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poledancingdinos · 11 months ago

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Hostile Territory - Chapter 19

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings: past injuries

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @persephonepraxidikechthonios @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions

Masterlist

Day 203

It was the smell of coffee drifting up from the kitchen that pulled Sy from his light dozing. He jerked upright thinking he’d missed his alarm and overslept but it was not yet five in the morning.

“What the hell?” he muttered, running a hand down his beard. Should he shave it off completely before going to see Leah? She’d never made any comments about it, unlike a few of the older soldiers who had earned the right to bust his balls.

He threw the blanket off, rising from the bed. A shower would be in order but first he needed to investigate who else was up.

Shirtless and wearing only loose shorts, he stumbled down the stairs in search of the black gold he’d missed while he was away. The distinctive sound of bacon hitting a hot pan was followed by the blessed greasy, salty scent and Sy definitely did not groan aloud as he stepped into the kitchen.

“I figured after your mother came to bed announcin’ you would be leavin’ this morning that it would be my only opportunity to cook ya a proper breakfast.”

“I’m sorry I’m not stayin’. I’m sure Ma explained why.”

“Yes, she did. She couldn’t get back to sleep with her excitement.” His father added eggs to another skillet before turning to face him. “Had to tire her out,” he added with a smirk.

Sy rolled his eyes with a smile but didn’t comment. Had he been ten years younger, he might have made a disgusted sound but he’d come to admire the way his parents so clearly loved each other even after all their years together.

“You should head back up and shower then I’ll drive ya to the airport when you’re ready.”

Sy had long since mastered the art of two minute showers so he was back down the stairs within ten minutes with his bag packed and ready to ship out. As he sat at the table, his father delivered two steaming hot plates of food and equally hot coffees. They ate in silence for the first few minutes until Sy worked up the nerve to speak.

“Any advice?” His words were almost a whisper, but his father heard him all the same.

“Whatever ya have to say, make sure ya don’t leave any room for doubt. Sometimes us men ain’t so good at sayin’ what we really mean. Oh! And don’t let them flowery movies your mama likes so much fool ya. Showin’ up at a girls doorstep without an invitation ain’t all it’s cracked up to be—especially not when that girl knows her way around a gun. Make sure you’re not too disappointed if things don’t go as planned.”

Though unconventional, that particular piece of advice was completely justified. Leah more than knew her way around a gun. She knew her way around several types of guns.

“Fair enough.”

It was almost eleven by the time Sy made it to the small two story house in a quiet suburb. His attention immediately went to the crotch rocket sitting in the driveway. He’d always loved taking the old dirt bikes out as a teen and couldn’t help but wonder if it was Leah’s or her brother’s.

His question was answered when Leah walked out of the house holding a full-face helmet and wearing a protective jacket. She froze with the door half closed, staring at Sy. Her mouth opened as if to speak but she seemed to have changed her mind when she shut it again.

“Bad time?” He felt stupid asking but he didn’t know what else to say.

“How did you know where to find me?”

Sy walked up the old concrete path to where Leah still stood. He put his hands in his pockets looking a little sheepish. “I called BJ.”

Leah hummed in understanding. She’d given BJ a few of her sketches before they left and had put them in an envelope from a letter Caleb had sent her.

She wasn’t angry with BJ. He would never breach her privacy without good reason and giving her address to Sy was not a breach as far as she was concerned. However, she sort of wanted to see Sy squirm.

“What did that intel cost you?”

Stepping closer, Sy trailed his knuckles over her cheek before cupping her cheek.

“It cost me nothing but it was worth everything.”

Leah could have sworn she felt literal butterflies fluttering in her stomach but the moment was interrupted by an alarm going off on her phone. She cursed under her breath and pulled it from her pocket as Sy stepped back.

“I need to be somewhere in twenty minutes and I’ll be gone all afternoon.” She pursed her lips, chewing on her cheek. “You umm… You’re welcome to follow me.”

Sy didn’t hesitate to accept. “Lead the way.”

Leah nodded once, locking the door and heading down the walkway towards her bike.

“Did you drive here?” she asked, looking around for Sy’s truck as she zipped up her jacket.

“Not quite. I caught a flight then rented that sardine box over there.” He gestured towards the tiny hatchback that looked like a clown car next to Sy.

Leah straddled the bike, watching as Sy crossed the rest of the distance to his rental. Realizing she’d been so stunned to see him that she hadn’t even said “hi”, she called out to him.

“Sy wait!”

Leah climbed back off the bike, leaving her helmet on the seat before running over to Sy who’d frozen at the sound of his name. He turned just in time for Leah to pull him down into an eager kiss. His surprise only lasted for a second before he pulled her flush against his chest, holding her there with a hand on the small of her back.

Leah was first to break the kiss, sporting a deep flush on her cheeks as she took a few steps backwards. “Think the sardine box can keep up?” she smirked.

“It’ll manage,” he called back, feeling relief and excitement in equal measure.

When she’d straddled her bike once more and strapped her helmet into place, Leah waited just long enough for Sy to get in the car then led them through the empty streets and onto the main boulevard. Despite her jokes, she drove safely, following speed limits and constantly checking for surrounding traffic.

Sy guessed their destination as soon as the sign became visible in the distance and his suspicions were confirmed when her blinker turned on. They pulled into the lot in front of the tattoo shop. Leah squeezed into a spot next to a custom Harley and Sy was glad it wasn’t his truck he was forced to back into the last spot at the end of the lot.

For a moment, Sy was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to be alone with Leah but that sentiment was outweighed by the curiosity of finally seeing her relaxed and in her element. A bell chimed as he pulled the door open and held it for Leah to walk in ahead of him.

“Look what the fucking cat dragged in!”

A man looking to be a few years older than Sy jumped the counter, not seeming to realize there was a perfectly good opening a few feet away. He pulled Leah into a tight bear hug, keeping her against him long enough for Sy to start getting envious before finally releasing her.

Rationally, he was aware that Leah had known this man a lot longer than she had known Sy and that she was allowed to hug him if that was what she wanted but the alpha-hole part of his brain hated that the guy had his hands on his woman.

“You should have told me you were the one who booked my afternoon, I’d have dressed up or something.” He looked down at his all black outfit consisting of baggy jeans, an old band tee that showed off his fully tattooed arms and running shoes. “It’s not every day we get to welcome home our favorite pain in the ass.”

“Hey,” Leah punched him in the arm, “I gave my name to your receptionist when I called. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to read.”

“I was off yesterday, I didn’t know my other client had canceled until you walked in.” The man finally tore his focus away from Leah long enough to acknowledge Sy’s presence. “I’m Ash by the way.”

“Sy.”

Ash motioned for them to follow him to the back of the shop where metal music was playing through the overhead speakers. Sy had never been in a tattoo shop before but if he’d had to make a guess at what one would look like, it would be exactly like the room in which he was standing.

There were six workstations, three on each side of the room. Each had a different set up of chairs and metal tool boxes. The walls were covered with framed art work and pictures of finished tattoos. On some stations there were racks with hundreds of bottles of ink in different shades whereas others had mostly black ink. A woman with pink hair and a half dozen facial piercings greeted them on her way to the receptionist’s desk.

“Leah doesn’t normally bring anyone to these sessions. She’s more of a ‘suffer-in-private’ kind of person.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Sy realized how cryptic that response had sounded when Ash raised a questioning brow as he dropped onto a rolling stool. It seemed that Sy had lost his ability to communicate like a proper human being after so long away. Thankfully, Leah filled in the blanks.

“Sy and I are deployed together. He’s my CO.”

“No shit? Thank you for your service.”

Sy tipped his chin in acknowledgement, never knowing what to say when he heard those words. Luckily, Leah and Ash immediately got down to business, saving him from having to come up with an answer.

“Iʼm so stoked we are finally getting this piece done. Iʼve had it ready and waiting for months.”

Ash rolled across his work station to the desk. After a bit of shuffling around, he held up a piece of what looked like trace paper cut into some strange shape. In purplish ink was an outline of a fantasy style dragon.

Sy couldn’t quite tell what the final piece was supposed to look like but Leah seemed excited to see the image. They immediately launched into a discussion about some technical term or another which Sy did not understand. He simply watched Leah’s face light up as she and Ash compared the purple outline to an image on Ash’s tablet.

“Okay, strip.” At those words, Sy’s head snapped towards Ash. “I need to see if this still fits or if I need to resize the stencil.”

“What, are you saying I got fat since I last saw you?”

Ash wisely knew better than to answer that sort of rhetorical question but Sy couldn’t contain his scoff, drawing both Leah and Ash’s gazes.

“If anythin’, ya lost weight since your first day on base but your curves are still killer as ever.”

Had he not been watching Leah so closely, he would have missed that cute blush creeping up her cheeks before she looked away. Ash’s brows drew together in suspicion as he looked Sy up and down but he didn’t comment.

When Leah began to remove her pants it was Sy’s turn to blush. Looking back at the stencil, Sy realized the weird shape was meant to fit her hip and thigh.

Before he knew it, Leah was left in nothing but a shirt and a string bikini bottom. Obviously this wasn’t her first rodeo. She used a hair band from her wrist to tie the hem of her shirt then she did some twisty hand movement to make it look almost decorative. Ash busied himself with pulling on black latex gloves and handed Leah a roll of medical tape.

“Use that to hold the fabric so that I can undo the ties when I work on the upper half.”

Leah proceeded to cut strips off to tape the waist of her bikini to her stomach but when she got to her back, she couldn’t get it to line up properly. Seeing Ash was busy setting out little plastic cups of ink, Sy stepped forward instead.

Wordlessly, he took the roll from her hand, cutting a fresh piece. He made a conscious effort not to let his hands linger as he traced the small of her back, securing the fabric in place. He thought he heard Leahʼs breath hitch but the moment was interrupted as Ash began prepping Leah’s skin.

Once everything was ready, Leah curled up on her side as Ash instructed and the pixi-haired receptionist showed up as if out of nowhere with a second chair for Sy. He expected to be ignored for the rest of the afternoon but Ash seemed more than happy to include him in the conversation as he worked.

Once the outline was done, Ash suggested that it was time for a break. Not wanting Leah to have to wrap up the half-finished piece, Sy offered to run to the store across the street to get them both some snacks.

Ash had said to get something that was easy to eat and would keep her blood sugar up so Sy picked up two containers of pre-cut fruit and a few different sports drinks that had spouts so Leah could easily drink while lying down.

After Ash changed his needles for the second time, it seemed the pain was finally getting to Leah. She closed her eyes and didn’t speak except when asked a direct question. Throughout it all, she remained impossibly still.

“Now I see why ya barely flinched when ya got your head stitched up.” Ash had been running the machine over the same patch of skin for what felt like forever.

A small smile pulled at Leah’s lips but her eyes stayed closed. “What’s a few stitches when you sit through hours of getting stabbed repeatedly by multiple needles?”

That was a very valid point, indeed.

“How did you get injured?”

“I wanted to experience what it was like to be a victim in a slasher movie.”

Ash looked up from his work, cleaning away the excess ink and blood. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s her way of sayin’ she almost got killed by an ax wieldin’ lunatic.” Ash went pale, his face losing all its humor. He’d no doubt never realized just how risky their job really was.

“But you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, Sy saved my ass. I walked—well, limped—away with a busted knee and a couple stitches.”

All things considered, that was far from the worst of what their team had seen out there but those were the things no one ever wanted to speak of. It did no good to make close friends or family more worried than they already were when there was nothing they could do about it.

After the sixth hour, Ash put down his machine and declared Leah officially done. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights. Rolling off the table, Leah made her way to the mirror.

Using the excuse of the new tattoo, Sy allowed himself to fully study her legs. On her hip was now a black and gray dragon that followed the curve of her body to her mid thigh. On the same leg was the leshen she had mentioned all those months ago. The other hip had flowers leading down to a wolf’s head which was also in black and gray but not quite the same style. It almost looked like a contrast of nature’s good versus evil.

“I finally got to mark you with one of my own designs,” Ash commented as he pulled out a roll of cling film. “Even Niki came in with one of your drawings.”

“Niki?” Leah turned, allowing Ash to wrap her leg. “What do you mean Niki came in with my design? When did he get a tattoo?”

“Guess you didn’t have Insta out there.” He snapped his gloves off and reached for his tablet, pulling up a picture of a familiar cerberus tattoo.

Leah’s hand covered her mouth as she looked over the pictures.

“He said he got it because he liked the idea of something watchin’ over him.”

Tear brimmed eyes locked onto Sy’s. “You knew?” she asked, sounding almost betrayed. Ash seemed to think it was best if he left the two of them alone.

“I saw it in the gym and knew it was yours.”

Leah looked back at the screen, running her fingers over it. When she felt Sy at her back, she leaned against him, relishing his quiet strength. His hand found her hip, holding her as he kissed her temple.

“I’d say it had the desired effect.”

Seeming to realize she still had no pants on, Leah cleared her throat, putting down the tablet in favor of pulling on her jeans.

“Where umm… Where were you staying tonight?”

“Hopefully wherever you are.”

That put a smile on Leah’s face.

“So there’s that southern charm people keep telling me about.”

“Is it workin’?”

“We’ll see.”

Chapter 20

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson fanfiction #cpt syverson fanfic #cpt syverson x ofc #captain syverson x ofc

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madameaug · 1 year ago

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Happy Weight || JJK x OC

Pairing: Jungkook x Jennette

WC: 577

Context: Jennette and Jungkook have been together for over two years. Naturally, when you are around someone you are comfortable with, it's expected to gain some weight. Happy, relationship weight.

-----

Jennette turned her body to examine her behind, not in a boastful ego-stroking manner, but in one of confliction. As a black woman, she naturally had curves. The beauty standard within the black community praised voluptuous curves. The Coke bottle shape with minimal weight was recorded on the scale.

It was the same curves she genetically had. Nothing that caught unnecessary glimpses. Depending on the bottoms she wore, she could hide her figure. Even in her baggy sweatpants, her behind protruded further from her back. The same deposit of fat was now in her midsection. She rubbed her stomach, gently lifting her stomach. Peach-colored stretch marks across her pelvis creeping up her love handles. Mini rolls stacked upon each other. Lowering her shirt back down, she looked at herself in the mirror. Looking at her new body.

She could track down the moment she started the noticeable weight gain. Three weeks later, she moved into Jungkook's place. The next big step in their relationship. The once-in-a-while food rendezvous turned into a daily ritual. Jungkook's Korean dishes and Jennette's soul food knowledge. Their meals often were less than healthy but packed plenty of flavor. Savory smells linger in the kitchen every night. And every night, they ate better than the last.

A familiar scent of kimchi led Jennette to the kitchen. Jungkook rhythmically shook his hips as he prepped another side dish. He was humming an R&B classic 'Bust the Windows' by Jazmine Sullivan.

Jennette playfully grabbed a handful of Jungkook's surprisingly heavy ass cheek.

"Damn baby, you got a wagon." Jennette deepened her voice, imitating a thirsty man.

"I'm getting thick. Three C's." Jungkook laughed, continuing his cooking. "Just like you."

A brief frown coated Jennette's lips. Was her weight gain that apparent?

Jungkook served kimchi and beef skewers on the plate. Steaming waving above the meal. Jungkook blessed the food before taking a bit into her hard work. He moaned in satisfaction at the taste. For a brief moment, he paused, eating to look at Jennette.

She pushed the kimchi around her plate.

"Is it not up to your liking?"

"It's good." Is what Jennette said, but not what she wanted to say.

"Eat up then."

As told, Jennette took a few bites, but truthfully her appetite wasn't present anymore. Dinner was awfully silent. That was until Jennette spoke her question.

"Jungkook, have I gotten fat?"

Any good boyfriend would know that this was a dangerous question to be asked. A question that could very easily instill insecurity within one's partner. Unsure of how to answer, Jungkook went with his gut.

"No."

"Really? You don't notice the extra weight I've put on?"

"We've both gotten chunky. But it's just happy weight."

"Happy weight?"

"Yeah, happy weight." Jungkook shrugged carelessly.

"So you don't care about the ten pounds you've gained?" Jennette genuinely asked. She couldn't be surprised though. Jungkook's profession prepared huskier men who had muscle definition.

"I'm not losing sleep over it. Are you?"

"A little."

"We can work together if that's what you want. You know I've always wanted to bring you to my gym."

"Thanks, bug. I'll think about it."

The rest of the night continued in a light-hearted fashion. Jungkook lay in bed with Jennette pressed alongside him. He stroked Jennette's thigh.

"Don't lose all this 'happy weight' and then be unhappy with me."

Jennette laughed, reassuring Jungkook.

"I'll keep some of the weight and all the happiness. How about that?"

"Sounds perfect."

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

A/N: Jungkook and that shirtless gym picture....

He makes it harder not to be delusional.

Likeeeeeeeee omggggg

He's so fine, my God!

ruff ruff woof bark bark

A/N: I also think happy weight is so cute

Whether couples are gaining weight together or losing weight its adorable to me :)

#x black reader #jungkook x jennette #bts x black reader #jeon jungkook #black fem reader #black writers #jungkook imagine #cute relationships

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soranihimawari · 1 year ago

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And there was You

A royalty!au where our leads find themselves in the trials of young love & knighthood

Word count: tbd

Pairing: knight commander! miya osamu x royal!reader

Warnings: sword fighting; unwanted arranged marriages; first loves never go as predicted...

Reader armored // Armored! Miya Osamu

it's not everyday the knight commander is in charge of the heir to the throne. it is also not everyday both of them are seen giving each other grief over life within the palace walls. however, here within the kingdom, the nobles aren't shy to deal with the merchants and walk amongst the people. the only royal brave enough was yn, royal heir extraordinaire. apparently the rumours of them wearing a half mask from the players was to hide such a hideous face. no one has seen the crowned heir's total face and if rumours from the fisherman's ports rang true, you'd either be blessed or cursed.

ah, but you see? that was not the case at all. upon their birth, the royal adviser to the emperor and empress consort had scheduled a fortune teller to arrive. the thing was, the person was a trickster in it for just 1 golden coin. fortunes and cards were read before an audience of select inner court peoples. one in attendance would be the lady in waiting to the empress consort, now heavily pregnant and waiting the birth of the first sun of the empire. the conman convinced the emperor and empress the babe in the woman's womb would be hideously disfigured before the child would be one year old. years later, the mask of the child had been painted and repurposed and even as name day celebrations carried on, the mask collection grew. the heir back then was known as the child of 1000 faces.

all this was relayed to the empresses' inner court of ladies in waiting. one who too was awaiting the birth of their first son. however, that woman was blessed with two: one with hair the shade of spun wheat and the other? the other, the younger of the twins, had hair the sparkled like the dullest graphite. both of which grew alongside the masked heir, playing as children do, and right before the cusp of their debut, we find the friendly trio on the squire training grounds. they were receiving their final day of squire training. when asked why the heir wanted to learn the blade, all you said at the time was, "i wish to be with those who will not judge me for my hideous face when we go to war."

meanwhile, while this last session is in practice, your parents hold an audience with another prospective representative from a more urban neighboring kingdom to the south. since no one has ever seen your whole and true face, marriage seekers far and wide send their paige boys to see if the fox-ran kingdom rumours were true. many were emptyhanded when they had returned and life had gone on. however, with knighting ceremonies commencing tomorrow at dusk, you evading marriage talks for the last nineteen or so odd years of your life had been eluded. this was the subject of many arguments with your family, especially since your mother had put pressure on you to birth the next heir, which you absolutely will not do. you hit her with the physician's accounts of births to death ratios one night and she relents. your father, on the other hand, reminds you that though you had arrived late in their and life as well as their fifteenth year of marriage, you were the only child who had survived past age two in the royal records. you thank your father for the reminder, but also his encouragement of honoring the tradition of waiting until your debut to the court at age twenty. yet time moves ever forward, and as your childhood friends, now young men can be the bane of your existence, are seen walking shirtless and down to their bare minimum in the squire changes, you cannot help but stare for a moment before another knight in training from a merchant family, suna rin, makes the following comment loud enough for you to hear:

"which one do you prefer because if you keep oogling at their biceps, i am definitely going--"

"i'm going to stop you right there," you hiss. "atsumu is for the public women's eye, a brat whom i'll always admire as an older sibling."

"so, osamu then? to match your radiance, your exellency," suna teasingly pokes your side, making you bark a laugh.

the twins finish changing and although your gender remains neutral and a secret even to the outside world, your two friends, well three now that you count suna into the mix, ask you what you are planning on doing for this evening's pre-ball ball in their quarters. they offer you darts, meat and wine, and even cheeses. you sadly decline with a dejected look as the twins' mother comes around the corner, ready to scold her sons for hiding the 'future sun of the empire' again. for the third time this week. suna hears her round the corner and tries to soothe the mother's anger who also yells that he is just as guilty as keeping the heir for longer than expected on the squire grounds.

"but madam! they were only my sparring partners for a few hours," you try to defend them. keyword there is try. you learned the miya woman had a strict way of bringing up her boys, but she had the explicit permission to have her sons be your first and for a long time, only friends your age at the palace. regardless, she sighs, a few graying locks frame her face as she scolds her sons even further. yet, she turns to you again, softly smiling after sending the three lads on their way.

"yn, your excellency, you're late for your civics lessons along with reviewing the guest list for the squire graduation ceremony. i'm sure lord kita and sir aran would be delighted to know you'd be attending, not as the sun of the empire they serve, but you'd be nominated to lead the western riders with my osamu as the operating commanding officer. atsumu, though, i heard, shines brightly with the spears and blades, so i wouldn't be surprised if your father requests him for your personal guard when visitors arrive or long diplomatic trips are thrusted upon you."

you snicker and laugh a bit, amused by her confidence, when she escorts you to the bathing pools.

"roses and lavendar, like you requested," she bows and lets you bathe in peace.

late into the evening, after you had your fill of spare treats from the bakers in the kitchen, you bump into osamu, chest first, and your mask falls. he apologizes profusely, bows even lower as a sign of respect, yet as he is about to give you your mask, his eyes flit to your face. he pauses before giving you the mask and he, boldly, touches your typically masked side. his fingers are light and calloused, but you don't say a word. too scared to even breathe with him that close, he asks you if you had dropped the mask, a term of endearment falls out from his lips right after.

"you are stunning," he whispers so deftly you strained to hear.

"thank you," swats his hand away and grabs the mask from his hand and refastens it around my head. "it's not everyday i hear that coming from you, lord osamu."

osamu bows and he can't look you in the eye as he lets you take your leave. the compliment and his cheeks burn in the night air just as brightly as the torches.

a few hours before dawn breaks, you struggle to sleep. all you could think about was the exchange at the quiet halls.

"he called me stunning, a half-faced demon," you turn and wipe the stray tear away. "i wonder if he was sincere."

come dawn, the ceremony preparations were underway. you're in the waiting room as your attendants make sure your royal robes were pressed and not a crease in sight. your mask for celebratory ceremonies hangs with the others while you tie the last bit of ribbon to the back of your clothing. you are about to swap the masks out (the one on your face to the ceremonious one) when a knock is heard at your quarters. dismissing the ladies in charge of your clothing, you beckon the knocker come once the last woman leaves.

to your abject surprise, it is the familiar person from last night's impromptu rendezvous.

"lord osamu, this is a surprise," you say when he shuts the door behind you, locking it as quietly as he can. "is something the matter? you locked my door."

"i don't want to alarm you into running away, yn," he is gentle in tone. there is a serious side to this,you feel it in your bones. "but about last night..."

"were you sincere?"

you try to help him guide the conversation into a more positive light.

"of course i was! how can you ask me that, me who has known you as long as my brother has," he has this incredulous look on his face like you had just told him his favorite stray cat died. osamu paces in his formal attire as well and you stop him with a hand to his shoulder.

"you're not afraid of my true face?"

you're relief and comfort astounds osamu. he turns around and he sees that infernal mask and before you can blink, he slides it off with a tilt of your face with his fingers--he tilts it ever so high to just analyze the face that was hidden from the world. curious eyes, filled with shame and understanding we reflect his of warmth and steadiness; you were always told to stay hidden, hideous scarring rumors spread rampant, yet no one told you how beautiful you really are. osamu breathes you in like the moon begging to be blessed by the sun even during the day. he steps forward, a soft gentle smile on his face. you must be so scared, he thinks. i will prove to you how gorgeous i think you are, his subconscious continues.

"i was right. you are stunning, your excellency," he smiles when your lips quiver a bit when his thumb grazes past the corner of your mouth.

you glance away, briefly and he thinks he may have over-stepped.

“osamu, it’s just us here in my dressing room, drop the formalities.”

you stand on your toes and when he doesn’t stop you from grazing your lips over his, he holds you steady by your waist. he chuckles when you come back to the ground, realizing that you really kissed him.

“don’t,” he hushes you by pressing his fingertips against your lips. he can clearly see how apologetic you seem about robbing him of his first kiss. “i’d rather have my first kiss be with the person i know better than myself.”

hours later, the ceremony and knighthood names are also called out with surname titles, we find ourselves in a corner, speaking with the other knights who congregated in a corner. osamu eventually walked away to the balcony where after you receive praises, you follow him.

the remainder of the party is blur, especially now you’re on him; his hands carry you to an abandoned bed elsewhere through a secret passage. he knows what you seek and for you, you let him lose himself to his star.

one night of passion turns into two, three until the months go by and it becomes a regular thing. atsumu and suna are the first to catch on, they can practically smell you on each other: you started to smell more like the forgery and earthy forestry and osamu? osamu smelled of finer bathing waters like lavender and rose. your friends and who he considered his family sit far away in some abandoned part of the woods where you always fled to when you had disagreements with the council’s orders even if your father was for or against the laws being voted on.

“what are you going to do?” suna sits on the blanket glancing at you with a cat like tilt of his head. “you can’t casually tell your folks you don’t want to go to war because you fear you might be—”

“oh hush! whether the physician says it’s true or not, we’ve been careful ever since. these are dangerous times suna, you know this.”

atsumu and osamu were off finding wild blueberries to snack on when you sit down next to your brother in arms.

“if you say so, your excellency,” he nods as his bow when he rises of the ground to chase his tuto class friends. “but i will care for the child of a friend if you or osamu ever find yourself in that corner. regardless of drinking potions before and after, you know humans like us are pretty stubborn when we take root in our mother’s stomach.”

you chuckle, your mask vibrates. atsumu stays out in the field while osamu brings back a handful of what he had picked. you breathe deeply and sigh as he explains why suna came out to keep atsumu company in the field. so, you tell him, you tell him about how the last time you laid with him, you tell him about the stress you’re under in terms of assisting your father with running the council meetings while feeling a little ill—he asks you if you’d taken the potions the apothecary had prescribed you both, to which you nod.

“have you?” you ask.

osamu nods. “we can’t have anyone find out…if this really is the case, should we run?”

his smile is infectious when you tackle him and he laughs the blueberries rolling away slightly.

it only takes a scare to set the record straight a week later. by that time, nature takes it course proving to the physician though you are sexually not a ‘virgin’, you definitely are not with an heir. the report is given to your mother as you are away for a reconnaissance mission in a neighboring village. you return under kita’s direct orders along with your escort, osamu. this time, your mother and osamu’s wait for you both in your solarium. you’re laughing ceases when you come face to face with the two women who brought you into this world.

“are you mad child?” your mother is furious. “do you know what your foolishness would have caused of the results were the opposite?!”

she hands you the physician’s private findings. you’re not expecting which was a good thing; your ladies in waiting were questioned about your monthlies as they had been dubbed by most common-folk. thankfully the stress to run this place and upkeep appearances to the public were to blame for your monthly to be considered tardy as all hell.

your mother berates you, shames osamu, but you can’t get a word in to fight for him. his mother though tuts saying he had flown to close to the sun this time.

“whatever this is,” mama miya is worse off than livid. “end it now before your father, the sun of this empire, finds out.”

they are about to exit, but you find your voice. it is shaky and defiant.

you shield osamu behind you and he holds your waist with a gloved hand when you sternly say, “no.”

“you dare—?”

slap! your hand collides with the empress consort’s face. osamu’s mother gasps.

“i dare because how can you listen to the words of the conman who managed to fool everyone at court telling them i’d grow to be hideous when the first person to see me without this damned mask is him?”

you slide the mask off, frustrated and angry. “he praises my beauty, one that was hidden because you and father believed the less of a faux fortune teller. so excuse us for wanting to rattle the stars. you both had a love born from humble beginnings, so why is it so hard for you to understand?”

you do not permit them leave until nightfall. the women kneel with their arms outstretched fit hours on end and though this punishment may be cruel to some, you ask osamu if you want him to permit his mother’s leave.

“not yet,” he whispers. “mother, true or false: when father died in battle, did you wish it was me?”

you raise your brow and let the interrogation of the second son go forward. mama miya, strong and proud like a peacock, succumbs to her child’s rebellious questions and she nods. he circles back to take his stance on the truth you had shared hours ago.

“do i love the sun? of course i do, you said so yourself mother…perhaps i may be an icarus with my head in the clouds, but i will never dictate to my children who they can and cannot see in this infernal century.”

you dismiss his mother first after she caves understanding just how brazen love can make anyone.

your mother though? she laughs behind her eyes.

“your father will never let you have him,” she chuckles. “did you think you were going to have forever with him?”

osamu looks at you worriedly.

“guards! arrest him,” she barks. unfortunately for her, she forgets who actually has watch over this area at this time of night.

atsumu and suna walk in, smiling at you and osamu.

“oh, we heard everything through the door, your grace,” suna bows to you. completely walking up toward his friend who holds your hand. “was she spouting her nonsense about you two not being together?”

“my brother has an odd taste for people he loves,” atsumu chuckles. “we too love your child empress, just more in a familial sense. we protect our kind. beauty is skin deep, but our anger is palatable.”

“don’t maim her,” you say stepping back into the light. “she’ll be a good little bitch and tell the captain of the guards bandits came and took me and ‘samu away. suna and you, atsumu, are to chase our imaginary outlaw friends until this empire becomes a republic.”

your mother raises her arms to strike you, but instead she yields when three different swords are pointed at her direction.

“you heard the heir, empress,” suna mirthfully laughs.

“go escort her majesty out of these quarters,” atsumu directs. “i need a word with my brother.”

suna obeys as does a defeated queen. her crown askew, she bitterly bit her tongue saying the brat wasn’t supposed to love that long abiding to the actual predictions.

“still buying that charleston’s lies?”

suna’s dagger is jabbed through the hanging tongue of the empress. he tells her to keep her mouth shut as he ties a rag round her mouth to staunch the bleeding.

“ah, silence at last,” he says when he delivers the queen to her men. “assailants took her tongue, sir. atsumu is in pursuit to the heir’s room as we speak.”

meanwhile, the twins have their exchange with you.

“you had to fall in love with the heir,” atsumu laughs. “here.”

atsumu hands him a pouch filled with some coins. brass, silver, and gold.

“take care of him, of each other, ok?”

the ash blonde kisses your forehead and hugs his brother close.

“send a falcon to me when you cross the border north. there is a friend who wears robes of emerald and gold. itachimiya’s territory beyond the iron wall of date city, that’s your destination. follow the night stars on your palms. the love line psychics use is the pathway.”

you hear the commotion outside your doors.

“atsumu?” you walk up to him and kiss his cheek. “be well and thank you.”

“go,” he tosses his head to the window where osamu has scaled the wall there too many times to count.

like a thief in the night, seven horses are let loose from the stables minutes later, only two of them split off from the group carrying nothing else but the riders on their backs.

suna and atsumu are eventually bright in for questioning in the months that pass. atsumu’s mother mourns the loss of her youngest who is presumed dead because of the raucous that night and the king, your father, at first was beside himself with grief as well. however, upon hearing the story suna and atsumu told the courts, even if it was just a way to answer the public’s cry for answers, the emperor’s eyes watched them.

“summoned again?”

“to his private study this time sir atsumu,” a young squire says. “it says to bring suna.”

on that night, right before the lantern festivals, the emperor hears the story of how a conman fooled a royal family and how a commonly born nobleman feel for a shooting star. the night was clear and a falcon was on its way with an invitation to attend a ceremony in the spring.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #royalty!au #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #sora after hours #hq x reader

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alheria · 1 year ago

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Fresh wind on a hot day (4/9)

*goot injyred in hisoital possibky be hinr later dint worrj*

Every bone, every muscle, every last drop of blood in Street's body froze when he read the chaotic message from Buck, who then went completely silent, didn't respond to any following texts or calls.

They've been dating for a little over two months now but Jim was yet to witness his partner suffer an unavoidable in his field of work serious injury. He's seen a vast variety of bruises, cuts and abrasions on the unfortunate firefighter, however nothing so serious it required hospitalization. Which meant this new, uncertain situation scared the cop terribly. As if he wasn't already a little anxious every time he watched his Alpha leave for a shift, worried it might be the last time they see each-other.

That was kind of hypocritical, considering the SWAT officer wasn't at all concerned about himself getting hurt on the job. Last week, a bullet flew inches away from his head and he didn't even flinch. It really showed how much he cared about Buck, even though their relationship has barely began.

And it was just perfect.

Obviously, it started a little chaotic, with Chris firmly stating she won't allow it unless she properly meets Buck first and gives them her "blessing". Which resulted in only slightly awkward double date and learning both Alphas actually know each-other, crossed paths in the hospital Amelia works at when the firefighter's leg got severely injured. Small world, huh? Jim was terribly nervous the whole time, his best friend's opinion mattered to him a lot, but he also really liked his guy and wanted to keep him. Fortunately, the other cop was moderately satisfied with the extensive interrogation, and let them be. She said: "He's a little weird, cos who the hell constantly smiles, but a good person overall, approved.".

From there, everything seemed to work great. Maybe things happened a little too fast for regular standards, but nothing was rushed, purely organic. As Street started staying at Buck's more often, it became clear how different they are, in a complimentary way however. While the Alpha turned out to be great at cooking and ensuring his boyfriend does not live off snacks only, the Omega made sure the firefighter always has clean clothes to wear, eliminating wondering if a shirt he found on the floor smells okay enough to be worn for a third time in a row. Which was surprisingly mature considering how little brain cells were between those two unbelievably reckless men. Their personalities fit well too, Buck brought a lot of light and stability into the cop's insecure gloom, who in return gave him what he's always wanted - a feeling he truly belongs somewhere. And what's probably most important, the crazy work hours didn't bother either because they both were completely obsessed with their beloved, demanding professions.

Even if those dream jobs could easily have them killed.

Going to the hospital, which address he got from the dispatch, Jim made himself physically sick by constantly thinking about worst case scenarios, even though it was obvious whatever damage the Alpha suffered wasn't that serious, he managed to send the odd text after all.

-Hi, sorry, I am looking for my boyfriend, Evan Buckley. -Street nervously informed the standing behind the desk nurse, a little short of breath from rushing over there.

-Evan Buckley? -she frowned visibly confused but after a few seconds of deep thinking her face brightened up once the realization hit. -Oh! You mean our regular guest Buck? He's in the third room on the left, right there around that corner. -pointed in the correct direction. The impatient cop mumbled his gratitude and quickly disappeared to see his partner. He opened the mentioned door and briefly froze upon seeing the extent of fortunately light injuries.

-Oh Lord, Buck, what happened?! -Jim demanded when the initial shock faded, hastily approaching the half-sitting on the bed shirtless firefighter. The left side of his neck and face was heavily covered in scratches and wounds full of glass pieces a very young doctor was carefully removing, while the other, somehow even younger, bandaged the right hand, a long cut peeking from under the unfinished dressing. He looked oddly pale, his usually gleaming gaze was now clearly dull, somewhat sad even. This joyless expression did brighten up significantly when he heard his boyfriend's concerned voice.

-Small explosion, fell on some glass. -the Alpha explained vaguely, trying very hard not to move and disrupt the treatment. Which was quite a challenge because he needed to touch his partner. -It's not as bad as it looks. You didn't have to come all the way down here. You're still on duty, aren't you? -asked, hoping to distract himself from the itching.

-On-call. -Street nodded before remembering something that caught his attention a moment earlier. -The nurse called you a regular. Exactly how often do you end up in a hospital? -he wondered, instantly moving closer the second the doc was finished with the injured palm. His own instinctively gravitated towards the firefighter's muscular arm, grabbed it firmly and began to gently rub the warm skin.

-From time to time. -Buck grinned after deciding honesty on this subject won't do his already worried boyfriend any good. -Those poor med students have to practice on someone. -he joked, making the two women smile and earning himself a one very frightening death stare.

-You scared the shit out of me with that weird ass message. -the Omega whispered softly, looking down at the neatly bandaged hand. This could've ended way worse.

-Sorry babe, I suck at texting one-handed and my phone was dying, so this gibberish had to do. -the firefighter apologized, his heart feeling a little heavy upon sensing the officer's rapidly increasing distress. -I'm fine, really. Nothing a few stitches cannot fix. -assured, tenderly grabbing Jim's palm with his undamaged one. It was fascinating to watch how the anxious man immediately began to relax. Like if his touch was somehow magical. -You know...you look pretty sweet in your uniform. Can you like...bring it to my place some time? -he hummed, causing the involuntarily listening students to blush at that shameless suggestion.

-If you're well enough to joke around, maybe I should leave? -Jim rolled his eyes, utterly amused by the ease his boyfriend turned a serious situation into a joke with. And he was very thankful for that.

-Don't you dare! -the Alpha gasped dramatically, his blue eyes finally back to regular gleeful sparkling. Which made Street oh, so happy. -I need my emotional support boyfriend!

-Your who?! -exclaimed instantly a surprised, familiar voice belonging to a person whose arrival they failed to notice, too engaged in the silly bickering. The couple, still holding hands, instantly looked at the visitor. Buck's smile dropped like a rock, and he went eerily silent while the other man wondered where does he recognize this woman from. -I know you. -Hen informed, gazing at the police officer wide-eyed, clearly shocked by the unexpected discovery. -You're that cop who was dangling off the ceiling.

Nice, what a great achievement to be remembered for.

-Street. -reminded the slightly embarrassed officer.

-What? -the paramedic blinked furiously, struggling to comprehend this truly confusing situation. Apparently, not a single one of Buck's friends as much as suspected he might be dating someone in secret. He must've been hiding it really well.

-Jim Street, my name. -he repeated himself, not breaking the weirdly intense eye contact. Poor Alpha seemed so lost in thoughts, Jim started to worry if the overwhelmed mind is not starting to overheat, as her response took a good while to form.

-Right. Um...I guess you don't need a ride then, Buck? -she asked, glancing at her teammate who was equally paralyzed with shock. Street had to nudge him with an elbow to force out a reaction.

-Thanks Hen, I'm good. -the firefighter smiled weakly, his hold on the Omega's hand tightened.

-Ooookay. Um, I'll see you whenever you are back, and don't even think there won't be a conversation. Because I need to know every detail. -Hen then informed before swiftly turning around and leaving the room. The door didn't even fully close, she was already texting someone, most likely to share her findings.

-Busted. -Buck chuckled nervously when Street looked at him. It was truly heartbreaking to watch his always cheerful partner so unnecessarily anxious, and he couldn't even pull him into a comforting embrace to take some of that unease away.

At the beginning of their relationship, the Alpha made it very clear he won't talk to his crew just yet, and Jim didn't really care to be honest. The firefighter wasn't of course ashamed, he was wary. After witnessing their friend get hurt over and over again because he had a bad tendency to dive head in into any romantic encounter, they became a little judgemental towards his choices and often tried to interfere. And knowing that, he was afraid they might make him doubt in this fragile one before he gives it a proper try.

-Only you, babe. -the officer reminded, reassuringly patting his boyfriend's shoulder. He obviously told Chris and Luca straight away, they were his best friends. The rest of the team found out almost immediately after he returned to work post-injury, thanks to the irritating flaw in design. It's very hard for an Omega to get rid of an Alpha's scent they were in prolonged contact with, especially once it enters the bloodstream and unfortunately, they were both into biting. The first time it was easy to explain, but when the unfamiliar smell stayed present for unnaturally long, it became evident he's been seeing someone. So he obviously had to confess to avoid being secretly investigated by this overprotective bunch. -Will you finally tell them? -he wondered, fighting very hard not to pet Buck's hair, knowing well-enough it would make him lean into it, therefore disrupt the focused doctor's work.

-Do I have a choice? -he sighed, painfully aware at least three more people from his social circle were informed by now, if not everyone. This was surely the type of gossip you do not keep to yourself for a long time.

-You could always make up a lie, but you suck at lying so no, you have no choice. -Street hummed, glad his comment brought back the beautiful smile. His partner might've been skilled at hiding things, although once confronted, he was done for. That's how, among other things, Jim learned Buck would sometimes wear his Omega's freshly washed hoodies before putting them in the closet to leave the "I'm taken" scent on them. Which was both adorable and creepy.

-Ouch! I am already hurting, that painful remark was unnecessary. -the Alpha groaned, theatrically pressing a hand to the offended heart. -You are terrible at being an emotional support boyfriend. -he huffed, causing the older man to laugh sincerely.

-Well, I didn't expect myself to be any good at it either.

---

Once finally home, Buck's place that is, the pair found themselves on the couch, silently dozing off in a tight embrace after a long, emotionally exhausting day. The aching firefighter was resting on his Omega's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat, while his back got gently caressed under the warm hoodie. It was immensely relaxing, basking in mixed, comforting scents as their safe and mostly sound bodies closely touched.

Neither of them was ready to admit it, although both recently noticed the unfamiliar craving for that affectionate skin-to-skin contact. This insufferable hunger kept increasing the longer they were separated, and required merely a pat on the shoulder to start subsiding. One time, due to unfortunate work scheduling they had no control over, the couple haven't met at all for a whole week. It was nearly excruciating, to the point Jim's at first delicate irritation began to get tainted with raw fury, which flared up any time some external factor made him angry. What in his job happened a lot, on a daily basis, really. Somehow he managed not to kill anyone on purpose, however came close a couple of times before seeing his boyfriend and instantly forgetting how terribly neglected he felt past seven days.

Which made him wonder how would he survive if Buck had died today. He couldn't fathom not holding this strong, fearless, vulnerable man ever again, not brushing through the silky, blond strands, not watching the peaceful expression on the awfully scratched face. It was such an unbelievable privilege, finding a perfect for him Alpha who enjoyed being taken care of and spoiled, even though nature shaped him to be emotionally reserved and demanding, not overly affectionate and needy as he turned out to be. Where the hell would he find another person like that? Nowhere, most likely. -Jim. I'm really sorry. -the firefighter whispered unexpectedly, breaking the depressing train of thought. His tone sounded somehow dejected, and it put the Omega on high-alert.

-For? -Street frowned, not sure what is the younger man referring to, but starting to sense growing distress. He moved his hand from the hair to the highly sensitive neck, hoping it will calm his Alpha down.

-Scaring you. -Buck clarified, instinctively leaning into the pleasant touch. -I shouldn't have sent that message, but at the same time I...desperately wanted you to come. -he confessed quietly, shyly even, and the cop's heart just dropped all the way to the planet's core once the horrifying realisation hit.

This whole time, how could've he been so fucking clueless?!

Busy being worried, he didn't even think of that obvious possibility.

-You got scared too, didn't you?

Bingo.

The firefighter's body tensed at that softly voiced, spot-on question. A subtle reaction the vigilant, concerned boyfriend easily noticed, and responded to accordingly, by tightening the embrace.

-...yeah, a little. -Buck snorted, curling up further in Jim's protective arms. -When that explosion happened...for a few seconds everything went very bright and very quiet and I...I thought it's over. That I'm dead. When the team drove me to the hospital, I was still pretty shaken up and couldn't stop thinking how better I'd feel if you were there to hold my hand. I knew you were at work and didn't need to be bothered but...I just wanted to see you so bad...I'm really sorry.

Street's brain instantly crashed, overwhelmed by what he just heard. That was...heartbreaking. He had no clue in what kinds of relationships this man was previously, however they surely must've been toxic as hell. Otherwise, Buck would never even think informing his significant half he ended up in a hospital and needs them to come might be a bother. It was truly infuriating this amazing person had such a low self-esteem and evident trust issues he felt like he has to apologize for a natural reaction to a stressor. Those negative traits definitely required some work in the near future to once and for all change that unhealthy mindset.

-I'm glad you texted me then. -murmured the Omega after finally returning to reality. He then buried his nose in the fragrant strands to inhale that amazing scent and calm himself down because luckily, the magic worked both ways. -Partners should depend on each-other. I've got your back. -assured, gently tilting the firefighter's chin, so he can look into those gorgeous blue eyes, now slightly saddened. -And I won't ever judge you. If something is troubling you, I want to hear all about it. So I can help. -he added, leaning down to capture his partner's lips in a tender kiss.

-Thanks babe. -the Alpha smiled fondly once they parted, quickly reaching for one more kiss before saying: -Who would've thought cops can be so humane.

There he is. Classic Buck, turning a highly emotional situation into a joke.

-And who would've thought firefighters can be so insolent. -Street mocked, delighted to sense the anxiety fade. -Wait, do you even know what insolent means, or is this term too ancient for you? -he teased, remembering how last week he was the one made fun of because he had no idea what some new slang word meant.

-Wow, who's being insolent now, huh? -pouted the firefighter. -Apologize. -he demanded in a manner that absolutely did not feel like an order, but a hopeless request. And oh, if the Alpha wanted to, with current strength of their connection he could effortlessly make the officer profoundly apologize on his knees. But he would never do such a thing, and the bratty Omega just loved knowing that.

-You wish. -Jim chuckled, ruffling the golden hair before slamming Buck's brightened up face into his chest. -Ugh! I am so lucky to have you! -he exclaimed loudly, pressing a juicy kiss to the top of his boyfriend's head, who straight on melted upon hearing the honest confession.

-Seriously? -asked hesitantly the Alpha as he pulled himself up to tower over the older man. He was always the one showering the other person with adoration, it was hard to believe someone admired him this much for simply existing.

-Uh-huh. You are everything I could wish for, I don't even know how to properly put in words how perfect you are to me. -Street nodded, reaching for the firefighter's uninjured cheek to caress it gently while they stared at each-other in silence, their eyes glowing with reverence. -So fortunate.

-I...I don't know what to say. -Buck admitted, blushing furiously. He, perfect? That was an insane assumption, he was definitely not perfect, not even close. And yet, Jim apparently liked the whole picture. Why?! -No one has ever felt about me this way, I think. -he revealed, unsure of what to say. The Omega didn't seem to care, he pulled his boyfriend down by the nape and wrapped the long arms around him, once again holding his partner in a tight embrace.

-It's pretty new, and weird, to me too. Feeling this way, that is. -he whispered into the soft hair. -But some day, we will surely get used to it.

And learn how to accept it.

#m/m smut #ao3fic #m/m #9 1 1 fanfiction #SWAT fanfiction #Buck x Jim #omegaverse fanfiction #omegaverse

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measuringbliss · 2 years ago

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Spider-Man Read-Through 009: The Petrified Tablet (ASM 68-77)

MASTERPOST

In this arc, we see (in no particular order) cake, fire, water, chest hair, facial hair, and politics!!! Also, very interesting reader's letters.

Enter year 1969, a year I've fully read before thanks to THIS baby.

Bless my country and its compilations by year.

Of the three years I'd fully read before, this is probably the one I'm least familiar with, so I'm still curious to read it.

So our dear friend is after the petrified/clay tablet and shows off his hairy chest to his harem of henchmen, and I might almost enjoy it.

Replace "Spider-Man" with "a gay man" and see the subtext. Also gorgeous colors as usual.

Robbie's son, Randy, gets reintroduced, and navigating these pages fills me with nostalgia. Peter is absolutely clueless about local politics, which checks out in multiple ways (he has other stuff to do but he's also a white guy in that era). Peter is an outstanding guy though and would like to be involved. Don't worry, people, Peter won't get too ~political~. He eventually two-sides Randy. No, not like that. He's a bit wishy-washy through that issue. It happens.

The first panel is exactly what I love in these comics: purple, yellow and blue clashing with each other.

I wonder if Randy's gonna die, though, because he was introduced very effectively and almost suspiciously. May, at least, is very sick, again, as she's always been.

The issue ends with Randy and Josh getting arrested because they're Black the police thinks they're with the Kingpin, but Robbie's there and assures them they'll get the best lawyer. Peter isn't worried about them. He's a bit clueless, like I said. Randy is instantly very lovable, especially as he tries to fight the Kingpin and helps Spidey in the process.

In the letters, a very interesting question is asked by one Tom Prehoda: would super-heroes be on the front page of newspaper, would they really sell more than "pressing matters" (ie. "politics, and Vietnam, and the race problem")? And considering that many super-heroes do stuff every day in the Marvel world, wouldn't the front page get a tad crowded?

I think it'd be funny if there was a "Daily Vigilante Section" where the recent accomplishments AND failures of those individuals filled half a page. I imagine a lot of people would try and be featured in that kind of section. I'm sure you could do a few issues around that. I doubt I'm the first one to think about this.

(If you're wondering, this issue's letters don't get answers.)

Meanwhile, Nils Osmar says he finds that the last few issues have been less verbose and pleads Marvel to not reduce the verbosity even more, which I find quite funny. He did have a point: these issues have been *slightly* less verbose (the initial ASM run was completely indigestible at times) but imo (with today's sensibilities) it's much better that way, hahahaha.

To my 23-year-old French self, Randy feels incredibly sympathetic. And the confrontation between the young and their parent continues with Gwen going to the ESU protests and going to talk to her father. It's a fascinating theme! Much more entertaining than Kingpin's plot. Peter do be shirtless for a part of the fight, so that's nice enough. I can't wait to read what the readers said about this story arc.

This issue is very interesting and the diminution of dialogue bubbles is nice. In the next issue, the police thinks Spidey stole the tablet, the political plot gets resolved (the students won, yay! and Josh thinks maybe not all white dudes suck...).

In other news, Ned Leeds is back! I love Ned Leeds. Isn't he a key player in the Jackal arc?

So Spidey gives Jonah a heart attack, which is honestly quite deserved!

In the letters, Scott Hamilton deduces that Spidey has the strength of about 64 men and Stan Lee doesn't dare to say whether he's right or wrong.

Cole Kitchen, meanwhile, thinks Peter should enlist in Vietnam to end his bad Parker Luck while keeping the misery. Cap has been fighting for SHIELD and thus, the Marvel comics have no war chief among their super-heroes. Kitchen says he understands the Vietnam war's controversial status, but argues Marvel has never strayed from such subjects - as they "started a revolution in the handling of race in comic books". This is fascinating. I was certainly surprised to see complicated subjects even tackled in ASM #68. "Stan and John" inform me (among other things) that they've seen about as many letters for both sides.

As for Jan Wayenberg, she sent a long letter! She's in love with Peter (very understandably). She says a few gems, notably "Aunt May can't keep getting weaker and weaker without transforming into an anemic vapor."

Ben Brosgol wants May to be a supervillain, which I'm surprisingly in favor of.

Anyway, it's time for issue #71!

Spidey fights none other than Quicksilver. I very clearly remember that fight, so that's fun. The issue starts with Peter's who's shirtless once again, which is always a good sign.

Harry's back again, and once again gets gaslit by Peter. I love them, but dear lord, Harry needs some love. At least they have a bit of guy talk.

So Quicksilver's here to get the help of the Avengers, but they're in Wakanda, so he has to resort to spending some good ol' time with Spidey.

Thanks to Jonah being at the hospital, Robbie gives some much needed money to Peter. Robbie's great!!!

Overall, it's a fun issue. Peter knows some joy in his life, and he sure needs it, right?

This issue's letters bring some good food so I'll just screenshot them:

I definitely agree on the point that Peter should share his identity with *somebody*, and I think Harry would be a great choice, narratively speaking. My Parksborn tendencies might influence my opinion just a bit...

Time for issue 72! And it starts with a banger, as the Shocker assaults Captain Stacy with his (*snickers*) vibropowers. Sure. The issue tries to make the Shocker feel like Spidey's most powerful foe, but he's honestly a bit pathetic. I don't know, I just can't take him seriously.

By this point, the writers are acutely aware of how they showcased May for the past ~70 issues. But I'm not sure they knew I'd ship her with Anna five decades later. Anyway, Peter's outfit is an absolute win, it's very striking, can't help but love it.

The writers then prepare the Lizard's return, as Peter recounts how he beat him "a few months ago" (#45!), which explains why I was oddly not that invested when I read the actual issue.

And Flash is back -again!- from the war. He's still a jerk and Peter calls out his character regression.

THESE LOOK BEAUTIFUL.

This issue is alright, nothing fascinating. The actual subject of the Vietnam War is still avoided hahahaha.

In the letters, Eddie Christopher thinks the team uses the Kingpin too much and I definitely agree! But he seems to be fairly popular among readers. Charles Blackcrow is relieved that the student's protest wasn't a Communist plot, and also asks if Peter could graduate from college. Dear Charles, I think you had to wait for a bit more time. [He recently made a Reddit post, yay!]

Issue 73 makes it clear that the Italian mafia is involved in this imbroglio as well. Meanwhile, Randy wants to give up school and this feels VERY relatable. But his dad argues that education (knowledge) is a great power. Oh, how à propos! And Randy argues back that Robbie was lucky, compared to plenty of their siblings.

Peter wants to do an internship with Curt Connors, once again foreshadowing that the Lizard is about to make his return. And Curt, at least, is back, coerced into helping the Maggia, ooh~

In the letters, May is still very unpopular (and rightly so!).

Until now, this arc hasn't been particularly compelling. Sure, you wonder about this exact's tablet's purpose (although Silvermane mentioning his age several times in this issue certainly points the reader towards the truth), but the villains are lackluster (as you've seen, I'm no fan of the Kingpin, and Marko the Mountain Man isn't particularly helpful in that regard). The soap opera are the best parts, and sadly there's not many of them. The highlight is, of course, Randy, who's just been introduced to the readers and already has great dialogues with his father (and Josh).

However, in issue 74, a compelling plot point is brought forth: with Curt Connors forced to work with the Maggia to uncover the tablet's secrets, his Lizard alter ego is also sollicited.

Oh look, he's back to insult me!

Silvermane's age keeps getting mentioned and seems to be all he talks about.

Stan Lee laying it on thick.

Meanwhile, plot twist! Connor's son actually figured out his dad is The Lizard. I mean, yeah, that makes sense, it wasn't a particularly well-kept secret.

Peter wishes he could confide in his twink boyfriend. But what would he tell him anyway? The truth? I wish!

Sadly or luckily for us, Harry does make this famous apparition. I never forgot about this specific face. What the heck. I think he immediately gets rid of this muustache. Dear Lord.

Issue 74 ends with Silvermane drinking Connor's serum and being young again...! I figured it would be in the next issue, but oh well. I know how it ends.

In the letters, Stan says that the writers are still figuring out the Kingpin's wife. I don't recall ever actually seeing her, so I'm very curious! She should appear soon... I just imagine that fashion lady villain from Totally Spies.

Her name is Helga von Guggen, according to online sources. I love that Google immediately pointed me to the right direction with my query above.

The next issue has an iconic cover. SOMEONE DIES!

I love how subtle the twist is foreshadowed. Silvermane's transformation at first appears to simply make him younger... but for a few panels, his hair still have a bit of grey in them... but by page 7, the grey has disappeared. Sadly, as is constantly the case in these comics, Marko makes it explicit on the same page, barely letting the reader piece it together. If Silvermane's getting younger every second, when does it stop?

Side note: he really looks like Peter in these panels. I wonder how intentional this is.

So while Silvermane is busy looking handsome for five minutes, the Lizard is back.

CAKE!!!!!!!!!

For my grievances, I really enjoy this ending.

And while Silvermane is definitely dead (although I heard he reappears decades later, what the fuck Marvel), the Lizard is back.

An excellent letter from Steve Games lays out his issues with current-era Spider-Man. He argues the Ditko era is definitely different the two halves of the Romita Sr. half (during, and after No More). He calls out the emphasis on fights instead of the cast's personal lives, which I definitely agree with. We've been seeing so little of them!

I completely agree. Maybe my issue isn't so much the Kingpin than the fact that most of his appearances makes the secondary cast's appearance very limited. The letter isn't all negative either: the reader recognizes that three years before, Randy, Robbie and Josh probably wouldn't have appeared, and he appreciates that SM "now recognizes national problems and is more realistic about its portrayal of black people and other minorities". Steve essentially concludes that there's not enough Peter Parker content.

It feels cathartic to read such a letter. I couldn't exactly articulate it before, but I definitely agree!

In response, Stan Lee (by whom I mean "the actual person who answered this, I dunno what that was") says they'll poll the readership about that! Very interested to see how it goes.

In issue 76, neither Peter's handsomeness nor Harry's fu-stache have disappeared.

In retrospect, I assume Peter sending May to Florida was a move to make her less annoying to the readers. And almost as an answer to the aforementioned letter, the issue features more scenes with the regular cast. That's swell!

The issue is much better than some previous ones, although the Lizard battles lacks in variance... until the Human Torch flies in at the last minute!

The reader's letters mention the animated TV show, and I completely forgot about it 'til now. They complain the 1967 cartoon ridiculizes the brand. So even then, it was seen as very kitsch, huh? I've seen two episodes of it, I think it's cute hahaha. By that point, it was the gap between seasons 2 and 3 if you're curious.

Another reader asks if Peter could be drafted for the Vietnam War. Wow, this is fascinating. You don't really understand until you see it, huh. Someone agrees with someone else that Peter should tell his secret to Gwen's dad. There's also a patriotic doofus who really wants to mention his fascist advocacy group (the John Birch Society). This issue's batch is... oof.

Anyway. Final issue for this post! We've almost covered an entire year! As usual, any conversation between Spidey and the Torch is one of them (or the both of them) not listening to the other one.

I'm not sure why, but I really enjoy the colors here again.

Spidey uses his brain and tells off Johnny, which is smart. What is not smart (but entertaining), however, is Curt's son trying to help and fainting as the Lizard attacks him. What is smart, again, is Spidey using dehydration powder on the Lizard. That's clever!

Overall, it's alright as an issue. Not much to write home about (but the Lizard being momentarily stunned instead of hurting his son is compelling).

On the reader's side, Donald F McGregor (would, not unlike some other person, would go on to work in comic books and notably, for Marvel itself!) mentions that the outfits reflect the era, which is something I appreciate, as someone who wasn't born then.

Bill Labrie asks when the Goblin will come back, which I'm also curious about (surely it can't be The Night Gwen Stacy Died? It's around three years later, lol).

Dirck L. van Sickle says basically the same thing that was said a few issues ago: something should be done with May, she should get operated on and get super powers.

Robert E. Emmets asks "Doesn't Peter ever kiss girls like the rest of us?" no he's gay i'm sorry.

The next arc is about the Prowler, but I don't recall reading about him (even though my edition definitely had the first two issues), so that's nice.

#spider-man #comics #parksborn

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faithhearted · 9 months ago

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“If an apple falls on your head, I highly doubt the resulting injury will make you anything like Newton,” she laughed as she unfastened her shortgown, “And I’ve seen you both stark naked for swimming before, so I can tell you with undoubted confidence that you don’t have bitty bits like Woodhull does.”

While the two tended to disrobing, Katherine continuously caught Benjamin glancing up and she would bite her lower lip to keep from beaming like a harebrained ninny, particularly because he had to have realized that she had been looking curiously at him in return.

"Is this all right?"

With a sigh, Katherine turned to find him quite shirtless and looking rather finely built. Dramatically different than how she’d remembered him to be.

The last she’d seen him shirtless, in their aforementioned summer swims, he’d been svelte and lanky, still possessing the physical aspects of a boy. But that had since been replaced with the physique of a strapping and agile man. His muscles were denser and well toned and his torso was much sturdier than the boney, soft skinned pecks Katherine was used to shoving around.

“Um…y-yeah,” she finally answered.

Suddenly, Katherine realized that she was flushing, her cheeks a deep shade of red that rivaled that of the apples in the trees, and the next time Benjamin caught her staring, she looked away with embarrassment. Feck. The good Lord had blessed Tallmadge with a well endowed body, but her?

Well, she knew that some parts of her had a more convex shape to them than before, but for the most part, she was still scrawny and becoming a little taller had only made that worse. Earlier that same Spring, Katherine used her father’s coat to combat the cold while working in the orchard and one of the employees had mistaken her for a man from behind, as the coat covered her skirts.

At the time, it had hardly bothered her, but now, well, now she was suddenly apprehensive to know what Benjaming might think of her. After all, she wasn’t anything like the girls she’d seen him admire growing up.

"Do you need help?" he asked, gesturing to her fumbling hands as she attempted to unfasten her stays and petticoats, unable to do so now that her thoughts were so dreadfully jumbled, "You seem a little stuck..."

Katherine huffed, irked by her own sudden incompetence, “Fine, but laugh again and I’ll break your nose.”

Wait. Why had she said that? Though she didn’t know a damned thing about how to deal with men in a loving manner, she was certain that they didn’t find threats very attractive.

“Pretty much. I can read you like a damn book.”

"Really? You can read beyond your primer book?" Benjamin teased, catching her hands, lest she try and pummel him with her fists.

Katherine huffed, her lips at his neck making him shiver. “What the heck happened to ‘face of an angel’, huh? Can we go back to that?”

"Only if you take back the whole 'hopper-arsed' thing..."

“Trust me, it should have its own address.”

Unable to help it, Benjamin laughed, withdrawing enough to look her in the eye. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're jealous because you need a bum roll in order to fill out your figure?" Pressing a placating kiss to the furrow between her brows, he grinned before drawing her hands to his lips. "Don't worry. I happen to like your pancake arse."

Mercifully, Katherine didn't seem deterred enough to call off their impromptu coupling. In truth, she was absolutely right when she'd said their intimacy would be like breathing. The idea of this -- them -- was something that drew a flutter to his heart, and also felt sincere, natural. Ever since they were in swaddling clothes, Benjamin felt Katherine was one of the few people he could truly confide in.

Taking his hand, she coaxed, “I think I know a better place,” and started leading him toward the door. Helpless but to follow, Benjamin offered a bashful smile and stumbled after.

Out amidst Lucas Brewster's orchard was a line of healthy, blossoming apple trees that shaded them within the setting sun. While Katherine spread out a couple soft blankets, Benjamin hummed and gazed up toward the branches. "I'm not going to become Sir Isaac Newton and have an apple fall on my head, am I? Because that might ruin the mood..." Chuckling, he curled and flexed his hands, his palms suddenly damp due to nerves.

At his feet, Katherine knelt down and started unpinning her short gown. “Don’t just stand there, gawking, Tallmadge. If I’m going to be flaunting my tits and bits, then so are you.”

Benjamin jerked at that, startled. Cheeks burning pink, he muttered, "Well, hopefully you won't consider them bitty bits like you said to Abe two summers ago. I don't think he's ever quite recovered..." With a sheepish smile, he knelt down alongside her and shrugged free of his coat, taking care to spread it out alongside them.

It felt...odd being so vulnerable. While Benjamin unfastened his weskit, his eyes kept shyly darting in between Katherine's face and the task at hand, the heat in his cheeks rapidly spreading toward his neck, chest, and a pulsing ache between his legs. Exhaling, he eased out of his waistcoat, and then pulled the hem of his shirt free from his breeches.

"Is this all right?" he asked. Instantly, Benjamin felt foolish. They hadn't even truly started yet, and already, his mind was getting tangled up in all the potential missteps he could make. Tremulous, he clumsily pulled his shirt up and over his head, then tossed it alongside him in a heap, his hands instantly falling into his lap since he didn't quite feel permitted to touch unless commanded.

"Do you need help?" Benjamin asked, indicating Katherine's stays and petticoats. Chewing his lip, despite his anxious disposition, a soft, nervous bubble of laughter formed in his throat, and he grinned, biting his cheek to try and appear more subdued. "You seem a little stuck..."

#one last hurrah #kitty x benjamin #honorhearted #lime

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seakicker · 2 years ago

Note

fertility archon.. fertility VISIONS

There’s no set criteria for getting one, Only known facts about the people who receive them other then the fact that they’re sexual MENACES /pos

Men who receive fertility visions notice a sudden height increase as well and muscle growth.. and dick n ball growth teehee🥰 Loads become thicker, Man Musk (TM) becomes more present than ever.

Women who receive fertility visions notice sudden weight gain, Extra sensitivity around the nipples and pussy, the enlarging of the breasts and butt, and random lactation <3

holy FUCK yes yes yes come here so i can kiss your brain. make out with it, even. this is incredible and i am especially drooling at the concept of men with fertility visions being sweatier and having stronger pheromones than men without such visions hnnnfffgg

it almost seems like the people who receive fertility visions are chosen at random— there are people from all walks of life and all sorts of backgrounds with fertility archon visions. they wear them as symbols of pride and they more or less become the centerpiece of any outfit; who wouldn't want to show off the fact that they've received the fertility archon's blessing? i choose to ignore the canon that archons don't actually give out visions okay it's so much more fun when you imagine the archons handing out visions

men get taller, muskier, sweatier, more muscular, and a little hairier as well particularly in the pubic + happy trail region. their loads get thicker and larger; one condom isn't enough to hold their entire load so they usually end up forgoing condoms altogether... no big deal, it just prevents breeding anyhow! no use fussing with trying to put a new condom on while you're still coming because that would just be a mess, right?

i feel like others with fertility versions are particularly in-tune with each other's pheromones and thus the men's scents are even stronger to them, but those without fertility visions are also more attracted to these pheromones though the attraction is 100% subconscious. it's a little embarrassing because these men realize they need to change their shirts more often due to the sweat stains, so a lot of them just end up going shirtless when they're out. no big deal; that means less obstruction for the pheromones so they can better lure in partners to breed <3

women's pheromones are also stronger and, like aforementioned, do a better job arousing partners with fertility visions as well, though non-vision holders also find themselves subconsciously drawn to these bona fide succubi. their tits are much more sensitive than before and also grow a cup size or two due to both the vision's power and the sudden onset of breastmilk. the milk is absurdly sweet and rich and they're awful prone to leaking; taking a fresh shirt with you in your bag whenever you go out is basically mandatory when the shirt you're currently wearing inevitably gets stained with your own milk. hips widen + thighs and belly soften and grow and your hair and skin get softer and shinier... consider it an appetizer to the pregnancy glow you're sure to experience once you get knocked up.

very very delicious ask anon thank you for this FUCK

#im eating this UP #fertility archon reader #chats #spicy #sudden weight gain and hyperlactation... hot hot hot hot #cw breeding #cw pregnancy #cw lactation

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moonfairyland · 2 years ago

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So Hot You’re Hurting my Feelings

The blue and purple lights illuminated the side of Jungkook’s face perfectly making him appear tempting. In the duration of your relationship with the idol, you always wondered how this man got prettier and sexier each day. His ass must have been really good in his past life to be blessed with the face and body he has now. And the personality, of course. Jungkook laid shirtless in bed on his back with his tattooed arm bent at the elbow behind his head watching TV. Tonight he opted out of a shirt and just laid in his gray sweatpants - oh would you look at that - it seems he opted out of underwear too. We love a slutty man. Okay, so he’s not doing anything out of the normal, but you can’t help it. He is so fucking fine and you’re PMSing.

“Took you long enough.” The man in question spoke to you.

“Yeah, I got distracted.” You answer him as you lift the covers and crawl into bed.

“Something is always distracting you. What got your attention this time?” He asked you without removing his stare from the screen.

“You.” You speak out loud as you hook one leg over his lap and your arm over his chest wrapping yourself around him like a koala.

“Yeah?” Jungkook turned his head to look at you and moved his tattooed arm from behind his arm to wrap around your back.

“Yeah.” You whispered as your hand started to slowly move across his chest causing his breathing to go a bit uneven.

“You know what sounds like a good idea?” You ask him while staring up at him. He tilts his head up as an answer.

“You fucking me.” You softly spoke before giving him a small smile.

“I can do that.” He spoke breathlessly. Now, you and Jungkook were not new to sex. You had a pretty active sex life. Okay, that’s you being modest. You guys fucked a lot. Like rabbits. I mean it shouldn’t be a surprise. You both are young, healthy adults in their 20s. And he’s a fucking idol who works out majority of the day. Man has stamina. Man can move his hips. Man has good dick. Anyway, when it came to sex, Jungkook was usually the one who initiated it, and well, you were you. You had a hard time asking men for help. You would say you can do anything a man can do and better while looking prettier. And before Jungkook, this included sex. You still catch Jungkook off gaurd when you initiate sex or blantly just tell him you’re horny. Tonight was no different.

“Yeah? How good can you do it?” You asked him moving your face closer to his.

“So fucking good.” He answered while your lips brushed against one another.

You nodded before you prompted yourself on your forearm, leaned your head down, and kissed him. His soft groaning hit your ears which encouraged you to deepen the kiss. You kiss deep but slowly causing Jungkook to feel like he was in heaven. This happened every time he made out with you. He called it the Y/N Effect. Your slow kisses didn’t last very long though. No, you did a full 180 on his ass. Before he knew it, you were straddling his lap rocking back and forth while shoving your tongue in his mouth. Fuck, it was going to be one of those nights tonight. You moved your way down his neck causing him to tilt his head up thanking the universe for you. He used his forearms to move both of you and putting him in a sitting position. His hands move from your waist to down your ass pulling you closer to him and helping you rock on his dick.

“I’m so fucking wet for you right now.” You moaned as you pulled your lips from his and grind harder on him.

“Fuck” That’s all Jungkook could say. His hands moved to your oversized t-shirt working fast to get it off your body. You lifted your arms in the air, removing your shirt and exposing your tits right in front of his eyes.

“Fuck me” Jungkook spoke out loud before diving in and taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You threw your head back and moaned out loud. You were so horny that you wouldn’t be surprised if you came with just some grinding and your boyfriend sucking your titties.

“Can I ride you?” You asked, causing him to remove his mouth from your breast.

“Yes, fuck yes. Just let me taste you first” His eyes met yours before his hand made its way down and started rubbing your clit. Your head came forward to rest on his shoulder as your hips moved to create more friction.

“No, baby. I need your cock right now, please” Jungkook was either in heaven or having a wet dream. There were no other reasonable answers. He just heard his girlfriend call him baby, say she NEEDED his cock, and said please. Yeah, he’s sure that he’ll wake up at any moment.

“Jungkook?” Your face came into his line of vision bringing Jungkook back to life. This wasn’t a dream. This was real life. And he had a mission to complete.

“You want to ride my cock, huh?” His voice dropped a couple octaves, turning you on even more.

“Yes, god, yes.” You whined out loud and you knew that you would probably be embarrassed by how you sounded if you weren’t so focused on getting both of you off.

“Do it then. It’s yours.” He pulled your head from his shoulder by pulling your hair before kissing you. You moaned in his mouth before your hand moved frantically to remove his sweatpants. You guys only moved his sweatpants down to his knees before you started directly grinding on his cock causing him to moan loudly. Jungkook reached his hand out to open his drawer to get a condom before you stopped him.

“Can we go without one tonight?” Jungkook heard the sound of the gates of heaven opening when you asked him that. Listen, Jungkook knows that there can be consequences if one decides to fuck without a condom. But hey, when the woman of your dreams is grinding on you and asking you to fuck her raw, you don’t question it.

“Yes! Fuck ye- wait, are you sure?” He asked, causing you to kiss him sweetly.

“Yes” Jungkook nodded, trying to keep his cool and not bust a nut right then and there.

You went back to kissing and grinding on him for a couple of seconds before you wrap your hand around his length giving him a couple of tugs. With one hand, you pulled your thong to the side while the other lined his dick up with your entrance before you sank onto his length. You both gasped into each other’s mouth before Jungkook threw his head back onto the headboard causing a thud to echo through the room.

“Shit, Jungkook. That was so loud! Are you okay?” You asked through your small giggles. Jungkook kept his eyes closed, took a deep breath through his nose, and nodded a yes. You pecked his lips before moving up and sinking down again finding your rhythm.

“You’re so fucking warm. I can feel all of you, baby.” Jungkook moaned out loud as his hands found yours pinning them behind your back. The visual of your eyes rolling to the back of your head with your mouth open, tits bouncing, arms behind your back, and your pussy swallowing his dick would forever be imprinted in his brain.

“Oh my fuck, you feel so fucking good!” You moaned loudly going faster.

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum, Jungkook!” Your head snapped and buried itself in the crook of his neck.

Oh, thank god, Jungkook thought. He was so close himself.

“Yeah? You’re going to cum all over my cock?” Jungkook removed his hands, freeing yours from his hold before wrapping them around your waist pulling you close. You nodded and whined into his neck.

“Need more?” He asked you causing you to moan

“Yes, please! I want to cum for you!” Much to your dismay, Jungkook pulled you up from his dick causing you to whine out in annoyance.

“Patience” He moved his knees underneath him causing him to sit up before he pulled you back on his lap and lined his length. You sat on his lap in relief before he made you grab onto his neck and rose to his knees. With his hands around your waist, he started thrusting up to you.

“Oh my god, Jungkook! Don’t stop!” With his face buried into your neck, he repeatedly snapped his hips into yours and jackhammered the life out of you.

“Touch yourself, Y/N” He ordered in a demanding tone. You listened to him and rubbed figure 8s on yourself until you were shaking.

“I’m going to cum!” You moaned into his ear causing him to groan. Jungkook held on to you as you tightened around him and came all over him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” His thrust turned from sharp and controlled to sloppy and slow as he came inside of you.

After coming down from your orgasms, you kissed him as you felt him soften inside you.

“Jesus, woman. What came over you?” Jungkook spoke out loud while letting out a chuckle.

“You become like ten times hotter when I’m PMSing, dude.” You joked breathlessly.

“You and that fucking word, Y/N. My cum is literally dripping out of you and you’re still calling me dude. What happened to you calling me baby twenty minutes ago?”

You hold his face with both hands and kiss him multiple times before speaking again.

“I came. That’s the difference, baby.” You smiled sweetly before kissing him gently. At that moment, Jungkook couldn’t care less about what the demon above him was calling him as long as she kept kissing him. That damn Y/N effect.

#jungkook smut #jungkooksmut

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reallyromealone · 3 years ago

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Hi, again hope your day is going wonderful I have a request (if that’s okay of me to ask again) where the Tokyo manji gang go to this really nice and resort pool and meet the reader who’s very kind yet strict when it comes to safety of the people (I can imagine one of the members of the gang pretending to drown so they can be rescued by the reader) I understand if your busy and/or doing other requests take your time and I hope you are well. I also want to you to practice self care for you are someone that deserves it

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Toman was exhausted.

Working non-stop was killing them, and it wasn’t until Mitsuya saw an ad for a pool side resort that the men decided that they deserved a break.

Mikey offered Emma and Shinchiro to come but between The bike shop and school the two just didn’t have the time but there’s always next time.

The resort was high end and the men didn’t waste anything they had to offer and that included the multiple pools.

There was the adult section and the kids section and everyone was thankful for it.

Especially when the life guard came out.

The Toman men were smitten when they saw him, shirtless with a whistle around his neck and Company swim trunks with a simple pair of sandals.

It wasn’t until Souya accidentally dropped his goggles that they were blessed to talk to the lifeguard “Ah sorry! You dropped these!” (Name) said softly, the Toman men having read his name off his name tag that hung off the waist band of his shorts.

Souya was flustered as he awkwardly thanked him, his face looking angrier but to everyone’s surprise (name) was unphased and continued smiling “I hope you all enjoy the pools and remember—” pointing to the large white sign with red writing “No running!” And with that, (name) walked towards the life guards tower to start his shift.

Throughout the shift (name) kept a look out, watching everything with great care and tried not to laugh or blush when the group of men from before kept trying to impress him with dramatics.

(name) wasn’t a fool, he knew he was attractive and it wasn’t the first time people tried to get his attention.

But just never this blatantly.

It wasn’t until he saw a man with pink fluffy hair floating face down that (name) sprung into action and dived in, grabbing the man and getting him out before performing cpr, breathing air into him and pressing as Nahoya grinned at the others lips on his and kissed him back.

(name) pulled away as the rest of Toman glared at the smiling bastard “you were faking?! Why??” (Name) said angrily but honestly? He looked like a pissed off bunny more than anything.

“wanted to be saved by a charming prince ~” Nahoya teased and reveled in the slight blush on (name)s cheeks; a mix of anger and being flustered.

“whatever… Don’t do that again!”

The rest of the shift went pretty smoothly and soon he tagged out when another life guard came to free him from his shift and he walked away to the employee area to grab his stuff only to be halted by a short blonde “ehh? Where ya goin’” Mikey asked curiously, eyeing the other naked chest blatantly and (name) frowned slightly.

“my shifts over sir, I’m going home…please enjoy your stay though!”

“come get drinks with us”

“eh?”

“yeah… Come on I will be a good boy this time!” Nahoya said teasingly and (name) grew flustered when him and Baji draped themselves over him while Draken stood behind Mikey and stared him down.

“…fine”

“yes!”

“only one though!”

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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toxic-gorgon · 3 years ago

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Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless

Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.

Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.

When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die.

Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.

That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate.

You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try.

Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man.

When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer.

You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor.

But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts.

Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.

The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.

Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.

Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.

He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.

To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there.

“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease.

“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.

“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?

“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.

You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!”

Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.

Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey.

Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.

“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.

“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.”

Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were.

Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back.

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit.

Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”

With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises.

Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.

With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio.

He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb.

“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.”

Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock.

“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed.

He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?

“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #dio brando #yandere #yandere dio #dio x reader #hamon user reader #y/n #dio x y/n #extra spicy #dark themes #part 3 #stardust crusaders #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader

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maeve-writes · 3 years ago

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Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

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yukiwrites · 3 years ago

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Soldiers, Bird Watching

Thank you so much for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! I had a blast writing this so I hope you like it :D

Summary: Robin was someone who usually kept to himself, so people never truly got close to him physically. He bathed in his quarters and always made sure to walk as composed as possible alongside the Prince (even though Chrom wasn't a paramount of fashion), so much so that it left people wondering what he could be hiding under it all...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

The summers of Ylisse were usually a good middle ground between its two neighbors: not too hot like the Plegian desert, but still a great ways from the cold summers of Ferox. Honestly, it was a very comfortable land to live in, climate-wise.

The people weren’t used to wearing light clothing like the plegians did, so it was easy to see some people wearing long sleeves and thin coats during the dry season and immediately make the assumption that they were used to much higher temperatures.

Perhaps due to Robin’s still unknown plegian ancestry, he never felt uncomfortable during his time in Ylisse, even though he wore baggy and heavy clothing. Some of the Shepherds wondered if he was hiding a big scar or any kind of body deformity under all those layers since he almost never took his coat or shirt off in public.

(There was even a hidden bet among the men that never saw him take baths in the public bathrooms that he was hiding a big beer belly, but who was part of that bet and what it consisted of was debatable)

However, for the first time in a few decades, a heat wave strong enough to cross the mountains from Plegia landed in Ylisse with full force, making it one of the hottest summers the halidom had ever seen.

The plegian born felt right at home with their thin and revealing clothing, but most ylissean born people had to go around wearing less than usual.

Men fought to walk around shirtless (Vaike sassed every single one of them he passed by, comparing their muscles) or they would suffer heat strokes otherwise. Women wore string dresses at best, or, in Sully’s case, a very revealing crop top ahead of its time.

No one could beat her to force her to wear at least a camisole, so she basically joined the shirtless men in their protest to be allowed to walk around with their torso exposed.

Chrom, bless his soul, would join the protest himself if he hadn’t been recently crowned Exalt after the war with Plegia, so, frankly, he had more to worry about than dealing with the aftermath of half naked men. The heat wave itself was a cause of concern, so he and Robin spent tireless days coming up with strategies to mitigate its damage to the people and the land.

Of course, just because he was Exalt it didn’t mean that he was going to walk around wearing that stuffy coat and cloak in the middle of summer, so he was an adept of the half naked movement in spirit, at least.

Robin had laughed at his friend’s antics, though he, too, started to get bothered with the heat eventually. Thus, after a meeting, he went to take a walk around the south garden (which was the only one with a fountain big enough to house the overheated soldiers with room to spare) to refresh himself.

Along the way, he found his comrades wearing less and less clothes as he approached the water. Stahl waved from a shade, shirtless and sweating but at least eating some kind of cold dessert.

Gaius was lying down on a branch on top of the tree Stahl sat under, eating ice cream as his life depended on it.

Lon’qu was fully clothed, sitting in the middle of the fountain, right under the water jet, as if meditating — the heat hit him the hardest as a feroxi man.

Vaike wore a speedo (at that point, everyone gave up trying to make him wear anything remotely decent) and sat by the fountain as though he was tanning himself, but he waved loudly when Robin approached.

“Yo, tactical man! Finally cracked under the heat, eh” He wriggled his eyebrows.

Snorting, Robin nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll follow your example for today,” he said, peeling off his coat.

“Oooh!” Vaike clapped once, but it was so loud it called the nearby men into attention. “We’ll finally see what’s under all that thick coat o’ yours!”

“Hm?” Robin frowned as he pulled his shirt overhead. “What? I wasn’t particularly hiding anything.”

The moment he let the shirt fall on top of the coat on the floor, all sound but the splash of the water stopped.

Some men tapped their neighbors while they grimaced and handed them coins.

Others looked annoyed for a moment and looked away, but most just snorted and nodded as though greeting a comrade in arms that had taken long to return home.

Sully arrived from behind the crowd at that moment, wearing her now usual crop top. “Yo, what’s the commotion all about- Holy shit, Robin, your TITS, man.”

While the audience was aghast at how well developed Robin’s body was under the coat, the tactician himself was dipping his head into the water, feeling refreshed as it slid down his neck once he went back up.

“Huh? My… what?” He covered his chest with both hands like a chaste maiden.

“I mean, they’re bigger than mine! And I work out a lot.” Sully slapped her chest proudly, which made Robin blush and look away.

“I uh, I don’t think my chest can be compared with yours- I mean, biologically-”

“Hey hey hehehey, wait a second right there!” Vaike sprung up in a flash. “MY tits are bigger than yours and you never said that to my face,” he pointed at his own chest proudly, shoving Robin to the side.

“I see your tits every damn day, Vaike. You’ll poke my eye out with your nipple someday.” Sully replied like that wasn’t the most ridiculous conversation one could have under the scorching sun.

Robin looked from one to the other like the spectator of a ball game, still covering his chest with both hands like he was posing for a painting. “I, uh, think I better g-”

“And so what? You never said that to me! He’s not even that big, c’mon, look-” Vaike pulled Robin’s hand that was about to reach out for his shirt on the ground.

“Whooaa, hey-”

“See?” Vaike placed Robin right beside him with their, well, tits aligned perfectly. “Say it to my face now!”

Sully crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at Vaike’s nonsense. “Why do you want me to say your tits are bigger so badly? I’m praising Robin’s tits here-”

“Please don’t say that, please don’t say it like that,” Robin repeated like a mantra, closing his eyes and accepting his fate as he wasn’t strong enough to escape the grip of either of the two.

Sadly, none of them listened.

Their back-and-forth got so intense that some of the soldiers around started repeating their words, making the gossip flow out of the south garden into the castle in a matter of minutes.

With ‘tits’ and ‘robin’ being thrown around so often, one would think that the soldiers were suddenly very into bird watching, so it would take at least a week for people to trace back the gossip to its actual source— or at least it would, but not unless Robin manages to bury it with strategic thinking.

He won’t allow Chrom or Frederick or Lissa to hear about this even if it meant buying a whole stock of sugar to shut up Gaius… If any of the three hear about it, Robin will never be able to forget how he got associated with yet another kind of bird. In the worst, worst way possible.

#fire emblem awakening #robin fire emblem #vaike fire emblem #fire emblem #fe:aa #my writings #yuki's commissions

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 11- At Last

Summary: Finally reunited with Geralt, the two of you attempt to avoid Nilfgaard and find a tavern for the evening, although it appears destiny has other plans.

Warning: angst, fluff

Masterlist

-last and final chapter my Witcher friends, that is until next season, and yes I will be continuing reader and Geralt’s story. There’ll be more monster slaying and adventures to come!

Within minutes after reuniting with your silver haired lover, did the two of you immediately find a spot elsewhere from the main trail for well...you know. A place hidden away from any unwanted prying eyes so that you both could show one another just how much you've desperately missed each other, in more ways then one. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so euphoric, perhaps that's just what making sweet love to your Witcher does to you. Even when he's pounding you against a tree while whispering the most dirtiest of sweet nothings into your ear.

You hadn't touched him like this in weeks, nor seen him for that matter, but he felt wonderful and seemed to be enjoying his time with you just the same. Though all too soon would your bodies have to part from one another's close embrace. All to your utter disappointment did the two of you end your hasty love making session, seeing as the land is closely crawling with Nilfgaard soldiers and who knows what else.

You got what you could get, and anyways, that won't be the first nor last time you two fuck in the woods.

The grass feels soft against your clothed bottom as you lace up your boot, your gaze set to the individual across from you as your eyes unbashfuly admire Geralt while he lays in the grass shirtless. His beautiful golden irises staring up into the tree tops as the wind sways the leaves every which way.

You pull at the leather strings, tying a confident knot with skilled hands while a small breeze blows your hair back, you're admittedly feeling quite delightful if you're being honest. Though when your crimson eyes glance up at the snowy haired man again, he's turned his head to you.

Your eyes meet at once, sending a blissful smirk upon your lips, "Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" You teased, narrowing your eyes in a playful manner.

Geralt's lips curl into a half smile as he lets out a small hum in reply. Setting your arms upon your propped up knees, you freely show him an eye roll. Earning a proper chuckle from the man, "Y/N I was simply cherishing your stunning appearance."

Shaking your head you smile, "Yes, of course you were. And I am simply looking at a shirtless man with the most utter respect and clean of thoughts in my mind." You casually shrug, "Nothing else going on in here, I promise."

Geralt raises a greyish brow, moving to prop himself up upon his elbow, "That sounds honest." He hums, "But you are no virtuous maiden my love, and by that telling look on your face only moments ago. I can only imagine what things you may have been thinking of then."

You let out a snort before deciding to crawl over to him, where he lets you push him back into the grass, "Indeed I am not." You whisper close, leaning on an elbow as your other hand caresses his cheek, "But I am undoubtedly in love with a Witcher of all creatures to walk this earth, so if we're using our heads, what does that truly say of me then?"

His golden eyes keep to yours as he brings a hand to rest over your arm, "I would say it means perhaps I am a fool to fall for one of my enemies' creations, my dear Y/N..." He pauses for a moment, taking this brief second to focus on you and only you as he holds you with the most care, "you are most cunning and beautiful."

Leaning into his small touch you grin blissfully, a feeling of ease and calmness setting over you as Geralt studies your face, "You are no fool my White Wolf. That I am sure of without a doubt in my mind, I can't seem to be able to even jest about it." You chuckle, "Though you tempt me at times." The smile that he gives you is the most precious thing your eyes could ever be blessed with, its warm and genuine, filled with the deepest and most purest of love for you. His lady of night, the one monster he could never slay, nor would he ever dare.

Though your heart fills with joy for him, a sudden sadness seeps into your soul, obstructing your happiness. Your eyes fall downcast as you move to lay yourself next to Geralt in the grass, he follows you closely, a frown displaying itself upon his handsome features at your sudden spurt of melancholy.

"What troubles you Y/N?" Wonders Geralt, shifting his body so that he can rest an arm over your chest, pulling you in close as he studies your face.

Resting a hand on Geralt's muscular arm, you frown once again, "I was brief about my short time in Aretuza and the Elven keep, I know I told you about all those bastard soldiers I killed and when I helped the mages the best I could.....it's just. I haven't told you everything." Your voice feels so small in the large forest, now since you think about it. You haven't had the time to completely process what happened at Sodden's Hill, with all those soldiers, the other mages, and especially Yennefer.

So much death.

His brow furrows in thought, unsure of what you're going to reveal next, all he knows is that he doesn't plan on letting you go for awhile longer. Your Witcher hums in reply, giving you a moment to find your words. Taking a deep heavy sigh you turn your head to look out at the clouds. "We tried to protect the North from Nilfgaard, those fuckers had their own spout of powerful mages to test against our own. For the whole day we all fought together...every man, woman, child, and mage. Fucking farmers and tired refugees, they weren't warriors, Geralt. None of them were."

You take another shaky breath as Geralt presses his head against your cheek, "I did what I could to save them. But I'm just one person, I couldn't save them all....though I must admit, those people fought braver then most royal soldiers I've ever seen. They have good heart in them....well, I guess did. Not many survivors I think, just the ones who had enough sense to get the fuck out of there.....and of course myself, Tissaia, Triss, and Yenn..." A small lump forms in your throat as you remember what happened, causing you to choke on your own words for a moment.

You bite your lip hard, your hand squeezing tightly onto Geralt's muscular forearm as you collect yourself enough to speak, though your voice is raspy and broken, "Yennefer, right. She fought valiantly like a true warrior, she was like a phoenix, like a raging mighty dragon of power and flame...Geralt you should have seen her." A tear falls down the side of your face as you smile into the cloud covered sun, your voice above a whisper, "I'd never seen anything like it....it was.....beautiful."

A light kiss is placed gently over your tear streak while his hand moves to find yours, "What I would have given to see you slay those dogs alongside Yennefer, Y/N. I'm sure she is proud to call you a friend."

"She's dead." Those two words leave your lips so quietly that Geralt almost doesn't catch them, but he does.

The heavy weight of this news takes him off guard, he did not expect you to just lay such tragic tidings over him like that, he may have been greatly annoyed by Yennefer but he did see that stubborn mage as a friend. Though his heart hurts for how broken and defeated you feel from the terrors you'd underwent only yesterday, the great loss you've experienced, all of your traumas crashing down atop your soul in this moment. He wants to comfort you the best he can.

He listens to the steady beating of your heart, understanding how sad yet angry you're feeling, "I'm sorry Y/N. Truly I am."

A tired smile forms at the corners of your lips as you turn teary eyes over to your Witcher, your faces mere inches from one another, "She was my first real friend you know, and I think I was hers. I'm grateful to have spent the last of her hours on this earth by her side then.....glad she wasn't alone. I just wish..." Swallowing the lump in your throat, you focus on Geralt's shimmering irises once again, "I just wish the world wouldn't take everyone I give a shit about, so don't plan on doing anything stupid, okay? I can't lose anyone else or so help me god or whoever is listening out there, I will slaughter the bastards who dare take you away from me."

"I do not doubt it my love, and don't worry Y/N. I don't plan on leaving you anytime soon." He speaks honestly before pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "You have my word."

——

Geralt holds tightly to Roach's leather reigns as he keeps a firm hand over your lower abdomen, a small content smile gracing over your features while you sit comfortably in front of him on the large mare. Just as you always have.

Your hands rest over his as you keep a steady lookout over the trail ahead, silently overjoyed to be leaning against Geralt and all of his godly body holding you up. A blissfully drunken grin keeps to your face while your mind tumbles and reels with everything that he's just confided about from the last four weeks, like what you'd done earlier after a fine quick session of love making.

Apparently he's been busy.

Though for the second time today, another troubling thought randomly pops into your mind as things tend to do, and now you feel this time is as good as ever to actually address it. Squeezing his arm a bit you let out a half amused huff, showing that you're about to speak your mind on something idiotic Geralt has done, and he knows it.

Your Witcher figured you'd eventually spill your two cents, as you always seem to do.

"So." You begin, slow and filled with something Geralt's not quite sure of, he mentally cringes as you squeeze his arm again, "you just told him to fuck off and that you'd prefer to never see him ever again? Just like that? To our bard. Jaskier."

Geralt pauses for a moment as you wait for an answer, "Yes." Is all he whispers, low and filled with regret. He told you all about Jaskier and himself hours ago, hoping you wouldn't bring it back up, but of course you would. He's never that lucky, there's nothing you don't ever catch.

You raise a brow and shrug, "Can't say I blame you. That idiot has gotten our asses in a lot of shit over the years." He lets out a breath, glad you're not fuming at his heated rash actions on the mountainside after you dramatically parted ways. Suddenly you grip his arm tight, enough to actually feel uncomfortable, he sucks in a breath as you squeeze, "Although, I don't believe Jaskier completely deserved that." You seethe through clenched teeth before letting go of your iron grip. So you are angry after all, thinks Geralt, funny way of showing it.

"I know....I was just....I'm sorry Y/N." He replies, his voice much softer then he'd intended.

Your face falls as you feel the hurt in his words for what he's done, "I know Geralt." You sigh, "Enough with the sorry's and regrets okay....what's done is done and there's nothing we can do about it now. And anyways, as I like to say "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so don't feel shitty about it now." He gives you a hidden smile as you chuckle to yourself, "You can feel shitty about it later."

Geralt lets out an amused snort, "Always one for wise words Y/N. What would I do without your kind intellect?"

"Dunno." You casually shrug, "Be a far less intriguing creature I suppose."

He tenderly kisses the top of your head, "I'd be a fool to argue against that logic."

"You're still a fool either way." You jest, cackling at your friendly jab at him, earning a gentle squeeze on your hip that sends butterflies into your stomach.

Gods the things he does to you.

For a couple more hours would you both ride Roach down the trail, past countless trees and a few streams until the sun would begin her descent over the land. Through this time you've been admittedly back to your old habits of amusing your Witcher to pass the time, mixed with seeing how long it would take to annoy him before he threatened to kick you off the mare.

It had been quite the eventful stretch of time before you caught the nasty pheromones of war seeping throughout the forest from some place close by, but not seen by your skilled eyes just yet. You held your tongue, not wanting to worry Geralt over something as insignificant as rotting corpses in the woods. But as Roach gets closer and closer, you begin to feel more strange, your scarlet irises suddenly catch a ripped tent behind a few trees.

Nilfgaard. Smell of death, more destroyed tents. Those bastards did this.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, the scent of freshly decaying corpses overloading your senses just about making your eyes water, you can't smell anything else but the stench of death.

"What I would give to be in a flower meadow right now." You seethe, blinking away the reactive tears in your eyes, Geralt looks down to you, unsure of what you mean considering his sense of smell is not nearly as prominent as yours. "I think Nilfgaard found a camp just over there, gods it reaks."

His grey brows furrow in thought, though he's left his words in the back of his throat as Roach walks closer to the carnage. Suddenly the three of you are face to face with an older man and his horse cart as he desperately and stupidly does his best to move the dead in piles for whatever it is that he's intended for them.

What a strange man.

Geralt shifts from behind you, tilting his head at the bearded man, "Ill winds follow grave robbers." States your Witcher as he hugs you closer protectively, or perhaps to keep you from doing anything destructive. The greyed man looks to the two of you, quietly acknowledging your existence before turning around to continue his doings.

"If I was a grave robber, I'd be taking their belongings, Butcher." He adds gruffly, squatting down to examine another slain body, "So best keep your beast with you." He adds, side eyeing you cautiously as he goes to move another of the deceased. Well, he knows Geralt's a Witcher and that you're not human. Maybe he's not that idiotic?

Geralt smirks, "If I was to let her satiate her appetite, you'd be amongst the corpses." The man falls silent, looking wearily between the two of you as your scarlet eyes trail over the nervous man.

He lets out a sigh, finally breaking under both your hard gazes, "I was goin' home to my family when I came upon these poor souls." He points towards the rotting bodies, "Cintran refugees. Dead at least a week. Now they're a feast for the crows."

"They're not for crows." You implore, shifting your ruby irises across the shadowy wood line while you listen to the buzzing of feasting flies. You had previously forgotten about what else may lurk in the shadows ready to feed, until now.

"Wolves?" He wonders.

"No."

Shaking his head, he ignores your odd wary vigilance, turning to glance at the two of you, "With more hands I could move quicker."

Yeah, fuck that.

"The only thing you should do quickly is flee." Warns Geralt, alert to the same understanding of what creatures may be hiding close by. The strange man grunts as he drags a body over the leaves, ignorantly discounting both your warnings.

With a click of his tongue, Geralt pulls at the mares reigns, "Come on, Roach, back to Kaer Morhen." You shake your head at the man as Roach begins to take a couple steps forward.

"Don't leave!" Pleads the bearded man, while dragging another, "Look at these people. Innocent people, killed for what?" He exclaims, sucking in labored breaths as he stands to look out over the mass of dead refugees, "So Nilfgaard can have more land? We owe it to 'em to do better."

"I'm not better." Mutters Geralt as he directs Roach away.

Always so dramatic huh.

You don't make it even three feet before your sensitive ears prick at the sound of crawling under the dirt. You know exactly what's now hunting the man, without a second thought do you break from Geralt's muscular arms to jump off of Roach.

Your feet move inhumanly fast as you race for the panicked man who's now scrambling away on the forest floor as two hungry ghouls claw for a taste. Realizing all too late that your silver dagger is lost to the ages you quickly adapt to instead aim for electrocuting the ugly fuckers.

Your palms spread wide as white hot lightening crackles and sparks in the misty night air, piercing the grotesque bodies of the living undead.

They screech in pain, giving Geralt just enough time to cut them down before they're able to recover, the man stops whimpering in fear as he turns his head up to you and Geralt. Who's now crouched a couple feet from the wide eyed man while he cleans off his sword, his eyes now two pools of glistening obsidian.

Sparks crackle in your palms as you huff in annoyance, "Go home." Your voice strong and steady.

The man snaps his attention over to you, "I can help." He insists urgently, causing you to roll your crimson eyes.

"One bite will kill you." Implores Geralt sternly.

The man turns to him, "Or you two." Then back to you again, his eyes fretful as you notice how he's just about shaking. He's terrified.

You let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm immune." You conclude gruffly, pointing to both himself and Geralt, "But not you two, so if you want to see your wife again...go home." The man stays still, breathing heavily as he sits on the soft ground, his mind swirling.

Geralt slowly stands, glaring at the man, "Go...home!" He snaps in that gravely voice of his, the petrified man stares at him before looking to your equally as stoic face. The blood red glow of your irises and the low crackling of lighting in your palm shifting his mind to a new understanding of his current situation.

He lets out a shaky breath, "All right..." Huffs the bearded man before scrambling to his feet, his boots carrying him over to his cart as he throws something into the back.

You ignore him and watch as Geralt walks slowly forward, his black eyes cautiously surveying over the land as you take a step, "Let me be the first to say, but I don't happen to feel very fond of what else follows." You whisper softly, your voice laced with concern as you sniff the foggy damp air, smelling nothing but decaying flesh as it wafts into your nostrils.

Geralt holds his weapon tightly, opening his mouth to answer, but before he's able to say anything a piercing screech breaks out from the woods. His sword flashes in the moonlight as he cuts down another hungry ghoul. Without warning another one breaks out of the earth to his right, dead in a flash as he slashes it across the throat.

The dirt bulges upward as another crawls from underneath the ground, heading directly for Geralt, the beast doesn't stand a chance as your Witcher stabs the soil directly in front of him. Killing the damn ghoul in an instant. Suddenly a black screaming flash races past you and tackles him to the ground.

"Oh fuck!" Unknowingly leaves you lips as you race to his aid, five of them have him pinned to the ground already as you pull his silver sword from the earth that he had left behind in the scuffle. These starving bastards don't see you coming as you begin slashing and hacking violently away at the ghouls. Trying your damn best to get them off of Geralt, they scream in agony as you end their half-lives.

More race out from the shadows to surround the two of you, Geralt pushes and punches more off of him as you slice through their grotesque inhuman bodies. So caught up in your own world that you don't have time to make sure if Geralt is all right when another one jumps for your arm, only to be greeted with a hard cut to its sunken in stomach.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you turn your head left and right, readying for anything else. When nothing appears to move you lower his sword to your side, turning around to give Geralt a smirk and no less a cocky comment.

Your face instantly falls when he whispers a harsh "fuck" while he leans down to look at something on his left thigh. He shakes his snowy mane, standing to his full height as he takes a limped step towards you. His obsidian eyes finally finding yours as he takes another troubled step forward, he looks like a mess.

Your eyes glance down at the bite mark revealing itself from an opened spot in his dark pants, you suck in a sharp breath, your face dead serious as you watch him with wide glossy eyes. His face looks rough and sweaty as he limps closer, suddenly falling to his knees as he stares at you, almost pleadingly, his dark eyes full of pain.

"Geralt?" You whisper, your nerves standing on end at the sight of him, no way he's just been bitten, it can't be.

Your lip quivers as you drop the forgotten sword upon the earth, taking hasty steps as he looks tiredly into your frightened face. You quickly kneel down to meet his eye level as he lets out a shaky breath, your hands gently touch his dirt smudged face as he wills his hands to grasp your arms.

His grip is unnaturally weak as you look deeply into his eyes, your voice shaky, "You're fine. You're fine, it's just a small wound nothing worth worrying over....it's just..it's nothing...you're fi...." His head falls downward in your palms as his hands slip from their place on your arms, "No, no, no, no....Geralt, love look at me! Look at me!" He answers back with a low groan, you swallow the building lump in your throat as he struggles to lift his tired gaze to yours.

The weakest of smiles displays over his handsome features as he lets out a tired sigh, "You're beautiful....you know that?" His voice is soft and broken as you hold up his face, biting your lip to keep from crying. He smiles sluggishly, "Thank you for loving me...I....Y/N...I...love y..."

Suddenly his eyes shut as he goes limp against you, you catch him and quickly move to gently position his body so that his head can rest in your lap, "Geralt no!" You exclaim desperately through tears that are starting to blur your vision, "Wake up! Wake the fuck up you dick...you can't leave me here!" You shake his shoulder but to no avail, "Fuck! No, no, no....I just got you back." Tears race down your cheeks as a sob racks through your entire body, you suck in a breath, trying to contain your pain.

This isn't fucking fair!

The old man hustles to your side, now made aware of the dire circumstances, "Ohhh, dear...Uh....we can take him to my house, if you will.....Just, keep him awake." Proposes the man, you hold Geralt closer, your wet cheeks glistening in the moonlight as your crimson eyes glow blood red.

"If you help me save him I won't end your pathetic life because of your stupidity!" You snap, making him flinch backwards as you glare at him, a low growl emitting from deep within your throat. If Geralt dies you might tear this man to shreds.

He quickly regains his bearings, now understanding that his life is at stake if Geralt dies under his care. The man walks around you, reaching down to pull Geralt from out of your lap. Once you're free he looks to you, "Miss he's quite heavy, this one. Could you lift his legs and help me carry him to...."

He's left with nothing but a genuinely bewildered look as you pick your sleeping Witcher up, holding him in both your arms while ignoring the mans shocked expression as you walk over to the large wooden cart. Setting Geralt in the back on a couple soft bags of goods.

Jumping in next to him, you kneel down by his side while the man quickly ties Roach to the back. It's going to be a long night. Until dawn broke out over the horizon, the great sun coating the land in daylight would you lay by his side as he slept through the multitude of hours.

Finally coming to in the late morning, looking more pale then usual and clearly disoriented, his golden irises trying so hard to focus on your blurry face. The man, who revealed himself to be Yurga, kept his horses at a fast trot while you continued to hold tightly onto your Witcher's arm, squeezing it every time he would begin to close his eyes. Just keep him awake.

"I don't know about you." Starts Yurga, "But I'm not liking the sound of those explosions in the distance....bloody Nilfgaard better keep themselves far away from here. We don't need trouble like that round these parts. Not after everything they've done."

Geralt stirs underneath your touch, snapping your attention back down to him, you watch as his eyelids open and close, his golden irises looking rather lost and hazy. He's so pale, too pale.

"Easy does it Butcher." Affirms Yurga as he turns his head to the side, "You got bit, best keep your sights trained on the pretty lady in front of you."

Geralt's brows furrow as he turns his own head to the side at the sound of the mans voice, confusion clear on his face since the poison from the ghouls has begun to mess with his mind. Seated closely on his right, his muscular arm on your left and his broad body on your right, his face is much more faded in color now. Too pale and sickly looking for your liking.

Reaching an arm out, you gently touch his face, turning his head back to you, "Geralt, keep those fine golden eyes on me, you gotta focus love....you're becoming delirious, but you're not dead. Just stay awake Geralt I'll be right here." He blinks hard, his face appearing dazed as he listens, suddenly trying to sit himself up.

You quickly react, leaning over him to grasp both his arms, stopping him from moving anymore, "Be still Geralt. You'll only make things worse if you try and move, your bite is spreading slowly but moving will only bring you more pain." His face grimaces in discomfort, you release your grip, sitting normally once again.

Oh Geralt, be strong for me.

Your face a mask of deep worry at his reaction, he may be a Witcher, but if his wounds are not treated properly he will die. Leaving you completely and utterly alone in this world whether you're ready for it or not. You rest a hand over his chest, listening to the slow thud of his heartbeat, he stares up at the sky, his gaze lost in the clouds.

You can tell he's probably watching some hallucination playing out before him, his gaze seems so far away while you sit here on this stupid hay covered cart pulled by the slowest two horses you've ever seen. He stirs again, his pale face trying to find yours as he focuses in on your worried appearance.

You can tell he's back, especially when his left arm quickly takes yours that was previously resting over his chest. He squeezes your hand, "My bag. Y/N I need my bag." His voice his gravelly and urgent, you quickly turn to look around, the pull of the cart jostling you while your eyes hunt for the bag.

"Yurga stop the fucking horses for a moment!" You yell, letting go of Geralt's hand as you grab the leather bag. Yurga directs his horses to stop, turning abruptly around to see what's the matter.

"The bottle....Y/N.....you know which one." Rasps Geralt as your eyes quickly find the small glass bottle containing some dark liquid, a type of healing potion for sure.

Handing the potion to your Witcher he hastily takes it, ripping off the cork with his teeth before making a face and chugging most of it. He groans, pouring the rest over his infected wound, more groans of pain sounding as you listen to the sizzle of flesh take to the healing mixture.

Gently patting his arm you hand him a small smile of reassurance, "You definitely need a healer, I'm afraid not even my blood can heal these wounds. Those fucking ghouls." You growl as Yurga urges his horses to begin trotting down the trail again.

His body rests against the piles of clothes and hay while his hand reaches out for yours, "I need to go to the Blue Mountains....Y/N...tell him I need to...." Mutters Geralt with tired eyes.

You squeeze his hand, "What? No, we don't have....you don't have enough time, Geralt you'll die."

"He'll heal me....I just need to go...."

"No!" You cry, there is absolutely no way you'd both make it to the Blue Mountains before his heart stops beating, "Stay awake you fucker, we'll heal you soon enough, just stay awake....we're almost to Yurga's farm. You'll get proper treatment there....just stay awake."

Until the sun would set and the darkness of night crept over the land would you constantly play as an ever continuous jostling annoyance to Geralt, doing all that you must to keep him awake and alive. Soon enough would Yurga have to stop and let his old horses rest for awhile. In the meantime, you'd help Geralt to lean against a tree as you went off in search of healing plants that could help to temporarily stop the spread.

With not much to give from your herb hunting, you walked forth from out of the bushes and into the grassy tree covered opening where you're greeted with the sight of a dark-red haired mage tending to your Witcher's infected bite wound. You immediately freeze, though she's too focused to even realize that you're watching her work. For a couple minutes would you observe her talents before blinking once and suddenly she's gone. Just like that, gone.

Well that was fucking bizarre.

Suddenly Geralt bolts upright, your brows furrow as he looks all around him, his wide eyes shifting right and left until they finally find your familiar form walking closer. He lets out an audible sigh of relief, before his grey brows furrow once again in thought.

"Where'd she go? The woman?" He wonders, confusion clear on his face as he watches you crouch down to meet his eye level.

You raise a brow, "Can't say I'd know, but I wish I'd have time to thank her for doing whatever magical mage shit she did to your infected bite mark." You reply with a chuckle, "Now you've gotten yourself a new scar added to the collection. Though still a very handsome work of art in my humble opinion."

His face softens at your relaxed tone, suddenly realizing that there's no need to worry anymore, "Thank you Y/N."

You laugh, "What for? I didn't do that much, I didn't even know how to properly heal you. And I definitely wasn't planning on turning you into a vampire just to have you around longer."

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you study his face, "For keeping me awake this long, no matter how much I wanted to shove you off the wagon."

"I knew you wanted to do it, I could see it in your face. That is, when you weren't staring off into nothing like a lost boy who had too many special herbs." You jest, earning a pleasing chuckle from your sweaty Witcher. You smile, "Now. Come on my love, let's go." You reach a hand out for him to take, without a second thought he accepts, letting you pull him to his feet.

He shakes his head, steadying himself as he holds your arms, "Geralt you're acting like you've just downed half a dozen mugs of ale, lets rest on the cart yeah? Yurga will take us to his farm where we can get some proper food and drink, and if we're lucky....you some new pants."

His smile is soft as he looks down at you, Geralt touches your chin affectionately, "That sounds rather lovely."

Before he can do anything else you grasp the hand that's touching your chin, "I know exactly where your mind is going next and all I have to say is you're getting a bit more cleaned up before those pretty lips of yours are allowed to kiss me." He closes his eyes, resting his head against yours as he releases his hand from your chin. Now pulling you closer with his large strong hands.

"I could have died." He mutters, his gravely voice laced with a friendly playfulness.

"But you didn't."

"I could have."

"I know." You finally sigh, "You're still sweaty and smell like a dog who rolled in cow shit."

He lightly chuckles, "That's rude." Before pressing a feather light kiss onto your forehead where he then pulls away after a moment, "Guess we should help the old man pack the rest of his bags away."

Gripping his torso tighter you lean in close, "I'm enjoying myself too much." You admit, "Even though you smell rather atrocious at the moment."

"Oh please Y/N." Muses Geralt, his face inches from yours, "You still called be pretty when I was covered head to toe in Selkiemore guts, if I do recall."

"Did I? Must have slipped." You mutter lowly, brushing your lips past his.

"Y/N." Warns Geralt, his hot breath fanning over your smirking face as your ruby irises flicker from his plush lips to his golden eyes.

"On second thought. Perhaps you do look rather lovely at the moment, I think I'll just have to..." He's left guessing what you would have said next as your lips press firmly against his, both your arms pulling one another even closer now. Despite all he's just endured, Geralt tastes quite nice, his muscular body feeling even better holding you so close.

His lips move with yours in some pleasurable heated dance, soon enough does his calloused hands reach up to place themselves on either side of your face, you smile into the kiss at his urgency to hold you close. A couple more lingering blissful moments are shared flush against one another before your Witcher inevitably pulls away, first pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your lips once again before finally pulling away to look into your glistening eyes.

His hands still gently holding your cheeks, while your own ones grip around his forearms, "I hope there's more of that for when we find a tavern later." You muse, biting your lip as Geralt's eyes stare deeply into yours.

"Y/N. I'll let you take me any way you want." Mutters Geralt in that low and gravelly voice of his, "Just me and you."

"I think I'd like that very much." His lips find yours once again as your fingers trail down his back, wishing so hard that you were both laying on a soft warm bed in some hidden tavern in the mountains.

While you're both unbashfully exploring each others bodies like it was the first time, a sudden cough is heard from behind you causing the two of you to abruptly pull apart and look in that direction, "Uh...don't mean to intrude, but uh.....could we get moving if ya both don't mind?" Asks Yurga politely, trying not to find either of your amused gazes as he looks at a stick on the ground.

Right, you'd probably want to get out of the woods first.

The merchant Yurga had been true to his word, he had finally at long last made it to his home placed in a great clearing within the woods. A comfortable farmhouse on an open spot of land away from the fighting and battles nearby. His cart came to an abrupt halt as his wife quickly opened up the door and raced out to meet him, excitement flowing through her veins as a huge smile graced her face.

"We're all okay. The war is close, but we're okay. I need to tell you something." Exclaims Yurga's blonde curly haired wife.

"Me too." Affirms the older man with a slight thrill lacing his words.

His wife smiles, "I met a girl. An orphan, I found her in the woods nearby." Geralt halts all movement at the startling words, you doing the same as both of your furrowed gazes find one another.

No way this is who you think she's actually talking about. Hundreds of girls have been orphaned by the war.

"I met a Witcher." Speaks Yurga with a nod, "And a dhampir, if you'll believe it." Without warning Geralt jumps down from the cart and begins walking towards the woods much to your confusion, "They saved my life. Now fetch 'em some ale before they go to Kaer Mor-somthing." Urges Yurga, while you jump down from the cart, making hasty steps in Geralt's direction as Yurga and his wife finally look over to watch as the two of you make for the woods, "Hey, Butcher. Butcher! Where you goin'?" Shouts Yurga as Geralt continues onward, almost caught in a trance as he ignores the rambling merchant.

"Y/N?" Shouts the older man, causing you to stop and turn to him, "Where you two goin'?"

Your brows furrow, not completely sure of yourself, "I don't know." You whisper, keeping your body still as you look out at the thick greenery where Geralt had just wandered into for some unknown reason. You can't explain why, but you feel as though this is a path that only he must take.

The girl in the woods will be with him always.

He walks through the forest, his feet taking him somewhere or rather to someone who's been hiding from him for a long time. He can't even fully explain it, the call he feels to find what he's seeking. He suddenly stops, thinking his thoughts must be false and this urge to find who lingers in the wood is simply horseshit as per usual. A false sense of destiny. He turns around, walking a couple steps further back the way he came before an undeniable urge to look back consumes him.

The girl in the woods will be with you always.

And there she is, Princess Cirilla of Cintra, a shining beacon of hope in the dull wet gloom of the towering forest.

Destiny has prevailed.

Your boots shift from right to left as you stand idly in the morning air, your thoughts swimming around in your head of what could be taking Geralt so damn long, even if it's only realistically been about three minutes. Your new friends from behind you have instead left you to yourself and decided to tend to their horses, much to your relief.

Hugging yourself closer, you shiver, though you're not cold. A kind of magic of sorts seems to catch you in the misty air, a feeling you haven't felt since that night at Pavetta's banquet pulls around you like leaves on the wind.

How odd it feels, yet this seems right.

Two heartbeats reach your heightened ears, one so slow. But the other, beats normally like that of a child's.

You take a step back, steadying yourself as you wait for who you're expecting to inevitably appear. Shoes move across earth and leaves, signaling their close arrival. Your nerves die as two shadows emerge from the bushes and into the sunlight, the two of them are talking, unaware of your presence in the yard.

The child suddenly looks, her enchanted blue green irises falling onto you as she quickly comes to a halt, her eyes full of wonder and nervous apprehension. Geralt's brows furrow as he stops as well, his face turning to find the source of the girls fear.

His golden eyes spot you in an instant, he finds you staring curiously at the small blonde girl, the tiniest of smiles gracing your lips as you fiddle with your hands. You can't help but feel ridiculous for how you've been feeling about meeting this Child Surprise after so long, she is just a girl, a survivor of the unspeakable. Though you may not be the best with children in general, you feel no ill will against this one, all those previous feelings of loathing and judgement are gone to the wind.

Geralt's eyes are kind as he gently rests a comforting hand over her thin shoulder, she looks to him now then back to you as he speaks, "This is Y/N of Alkatraz, the dhampir princess of the High Northern Kingdom. My uh, lover?" He says cautiously, a bit unsure of what to truly call you before he thankfully finds his words, "Well...uh, my immortal companion, and someone who I love very deeply."

Oh, Geralt you adorable idiot.

Ciri's brows furrow in thought for a moment as she finds her courage, "My grandmother told me of that kingdom, she said it is ruled by vampires. Are you one?" She wonders, her voice a small nervous whisper.

The corners of your eyes crinkle in amusement as you smile, shaking your head, "No my dear princess, I am of that blood and character, but a dhampir is what I am as Geralt said. It's someone who is half vampire and half human." You assure the small girl, "No need to fear me, I promise you princess that I would never harm you in any way, you have my word."

A small grin tugs at the corners of her lips before her eyes fall downcast, "That's very kind, most people I've met so far out here have tried to kill me." She hands you the flash of a smile, "Glad to know not everyone is like them." She reveals freely to you with her small voice, so this is truly the Child Surprise.

The princess of Cintra.

"With us, you will not have to fear the damned talons of Nilfgaard Princess Cirilla...I will protect you with my life now."

Her brows furrow in thought at your truthful words, "You know of me? But how?"

You smile kindly, your scarlet irises flashing over to Geralt for a brief moment, "I have traveled with this handsome Witcher for almost fifty years, I know everything he knows. Even who you are." You take a couple steps forward, kneeling down to face her sad eyes, "And I am truly sorry for your loss, no child deserves the pain and fear you have endured since Cintra's fall. No less the horrors you have witnessed since your escape, these lands are undoubtedly deadly."

"Thank you, Y/N." She looks from you to Geralt, "I'm glad to have found you both then." You smile, standing up fully to lace your arm with Geralt's.

"Now, I think these kind people here may have breakfast waiting for us and some ale if I'm lucky, so my small friend Ciri, would you join us for a decently peaceful morning?" Ciri gifts your ears with a small giggle as Geralt hums in amusement. Proud that you're taking so well to the newest addition to your group of two.

You turn around just as the curly haired woman waves, "Would you all mind joining us for breakfast?" She calls out as a satisfied grin breaks out upon your face, "Of course we would be delighted!" You shout back, probably with too much excitement but you're trying to look as non threatening as possible. Also you are admittedly very hungry.

The three of you begin walking toward the farmhouse, Ciri follows the woman and her husband inside as Geralt stops near the entrance, you turn a raised brow to him, "What is it now? You planning on finding another magical orphan in the woods again?"

He looks down at the muddy ground before finding your lingering gaze once again, "No, just trying to figure out what to do next." Grumbles your Witcher in that lovable gravely voice of his.

You gently squeeze his hand as a smirk plays at your lips, "How bout we think of breakfast first? Then we can set our sights on paying our friends at Kaer Morhen a little visit. Bet they'd love that." You add sarcastically, wiggling your brows.

Your Witcher finally gives you a small smile, "Oh, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you again." He jests.

Lightly smacking his arm you take a step into the doorway, turning back to look at him, "What? Am I not nice and lovable? Can't believe you'd even say that."

"Only when you want to be." Mutters Geralt before gently kissing the side of your head while walking past you, "Now lets get some ale."

Tagged: @seninjakitey @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work) @a-girl-who-loves-disney

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #princess cirilla #roach the horse

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