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imanonymousfanfic · 3 years ago

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How do you think the strawhat would be with a crewmate who has a cat (or like three) ?

I am so sorry this took so long to answer. I've had university deadlines.

Anyway

This is my personal take on the characters. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing this. Thank you anon ❤️

Luffy would LOVE to have cats aboard!! Luffy would be giggling childishly after hearing the new crew mate has cats, unless that’s why he asked for them to join in the first place (no surprise there). Since it’s Luffy, and he’s oblivious as hell, he’ll probably do a couple things that would get them feisty, earning him a good cat fight. He’d end up looking like he does after Nami has a go at him. Luffy’s love will go on endlessly, as they’re not part of the StrawHat family. Before the cats can explore the ship, the idea of teaching the fur balls some “cool tricks” will come up, maybe even plotting to sneak some meat behind Sanji’s back. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it won’t... probably not, knowing Luffy. He’s good company for them, a good partner to play with if he has a feather stick. You will find them resting on his belly as they both nap in the sun on Sunny's head. And without a doubt, ass will be kicked if a single whisker on their faces is touched out of malice.

For a brief second, Zoro will question the cats safety: traveling on water, but at the end of the day it’s not his problem… kinda. Despite his stiff “cool guy” exterior, the swords man would definitely jump in after any of the cuties that have gone over board. He will angrily mutter about their reckless climbing and playfulness as he rushes them out of the water. I mean he does the same for Luffy, so what’s new? He’d give them some small here and there, nothing too special. Their compatibility will really shine when they crawl all over the man during his meditation, they will have fun tapping at his gold earrings, and as much as he would like his silence, the cats company will make him smile. There’s no doubt about it, Zoro loves them, he just expresses his affection to his crew own way. They’re part of the family and their silly antics will make his night shifts a lot more entertaining.

Sanji will ban any cats from the kitchen right away, which is entirely understandable. Cats shed like crazy and don’t think about where their paws have been. They would knock over things carelessly, even on purpose at times when they want attention. That will irk Sanji. Should it ever happen, though, he’d take the opportunity to show off his cool moves in front of Robin and Nami. His envy would melt the man, seeing them curled up in the ladies laps too, but that’s just Sanji being himself. Since are respectable for the most part, and for this reason Sanji wouldn’t treat them any less than he would the rest of the crew. He’ll work hard on their meals, spoiling their little toe beans off.

Chopper will be the CUTEST with cats, he will be befriend them on an emotional level much faster than the others as he’s one himself. He’s in tune with them, and since he’s a doctor, he will be eager to pick up on veterinary studies to care for them. You will find him often studying their anatomy, even physically studying the little fur balls himself. He’d play with them lots, mostly with him originally chasing them, but knowing Chopper, they will turn that around. You’ll catch Chopper reading books with the cats crawling over him and covering his desk. An adorable sight to see.

Franky is definitely more a dog person, but he won’t reject the adorable purring of a cat. He’ll walk around with one or two of them perched on his shoulders, the height and the stability of Franky is a fun place to hang out. They see lots, and he’s a fun person. When not busy, Franky will take a moment to give out some pets, maybe even making some kissy noises at them. He’ll incorporate some kind of play pen or netted area so they can play safely. You’ll definitely catch him blubbering emotionally about them at some point. It’s Franky, after all, he’s a ginormous softie. When maintaining the ship, he’ll keep the cats locked away for their safety, all the heavy materials and tools could be dangerous, and the last thing he wants is them hurt while they get a little too curious. Let’s hope whenever they crawl over him, none of their claws have a scratch at his banana hammock.

100% Robin is a cat mom, calling it immediately. She’s elegant and has that cheekiness that cats posses too. She likes to soak up some sun, explore her surroundings to understand them better, and is intelligent with a talent in sneaking around. Robin confirmed to be a human-cat? All jokes aside, Robin’s companionship with the cats is calm, just like how many of them like it. They’d be spoiled with lap cuddles, and her devil fruit will make sure none of them are left feeling jealous. Her and Chopper will be often spotted hanging together, or helping the vet check ups.

For some reason, I have a hunch Brook is scared of cats and his hair would pop off seeing them. He’d jump behind one of the crew members, his bones rattling loudly as you hear his cheerful voice pronounce his fear. Luckily for him they’re not dogs, his femur would be gone in seconds if they were. He’d be nervous around the little things at first but with time he will open up to them. Seeing how the crew plays and cuddles with them will make him step out of his comfort zone, and next thing you know, they’re huddled around him as he plays the violin. Music, after all, is calming for cats. He will have his own furry fans to give him all of the love, which will warm his heart (if he had one).

Nami will think they’re super cute, but wouldn’t be quite as enthusiastic as some of the other crew members. That’s just Nami though. She’d definitely be cracking some skulls if you hurt any of them, and she’s a very protective cat mom. She might not be the super cuddly type, but she doesn’t care about them any less than the rest of the crew. She’d save a little bit of money on the side for some nicely made collars, which will be a BIG deal coming from her. They’d be gold plated, or something nice along the lines which is definitely her way of showing affection. No matter how cute they are, however, they won’t be caught in her cartography space - their paws are chaotic and Nami needs her maps to be pristine. As cute as inky paw prints are, she rather not have them.

Usopp will talk to the cats a lot, befriending them like they’re any other person. Even though they can’t understand him or his exaggerated stories, they’re entertained by him no matter what. He’s enrapturing, able to hold their gaze as they get lost in his enthusiastic tone. They sure feel playful around him too, his goofy behaviour is exactly what they need, but they might end up chasing him across the ship with how much a coward he can be at times. With his ingenious building skills, he’d take the time to make them some cool toys, a crazy laser, a feather toy, who knows what Usopp has up his sleeve. Oh, the ideas are endless and Usopp’s designs will be spoiling their tails off. If only Sniper King is able to see how adorable they are… *wink-wink, nudge-nudge*

As I’m not fully caught up and his character to me is still quite hard to write about, I will try to capture Jinbe to my best understanding of him.

I imagine him to find great companionship with cats, understanding their free will, but sense of loyalty they have. Unlike dogs, who are loyal to nearly anyone, a cats sense of loyalty is out of a devoted love they choose to share. Jinbe holds a similar integrity with the relationships he choose to be a part of. Naturally their natures of being are opposites, as he’s a fish man, strongest when in water, while cats run from it. They share a wholesome companionship. If it isn’t Zoro first in the water to save them, Jinbe will be the next to be a kitty rescuer.

#one piece strawhats #one piece #anime #one piece cats #Monkey D luffy #roronoa zoro #one piece sanji #thousand sunny #strawhats #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #one piece hcs #one piece headcanons

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chudleycanonficfest · 4 years ago

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you belong with me

Day 11, story #1 is by @accio-broom

Title: you belong with me Author/Artist: accio-broom Pairing: Arthur Weasley / Molly Prewett Prompt: Soulmate AU Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): None, unless Arthur Weasley trying to enjoy his birthday offends you.

When Arthur Weasley woke on the morning of the 6th February, nothing was out of the ordinary. He took his time, easing out of sleep like a man with nothing to do. He stretched out his body with a loud yawn, then pulled back the curtains of the four-poster bed, ignoring the attack of the winter air that filled the dorm room.

He was going to have a perfect day.

Wiggling his toes on the plush rug next to his bed, he greeted his fellow dorm mates.

“Morning, Ry.” Arthur tipped his head towards the Gryffindor on the bed opposite him. “How’s it hanging?”

Ryan was not a morning person, and he grumbled at Arthur before snuggling further under the duvet. Arthur chuckled and joined in the conversation about the latest Quidditch scores, trying his best to not lament too long on the disappointing Cannons scores. He gathered his wash bag, and made sure he had clean briefs with his uniform, then waved a cheery goodbye as he wandered off to the bathroom, whistling as he moved.

Today was Arthur Weasley’s birthday, and the day he came of age, although the notion was rather peculiar to him. He didn’t feel all that more responsible than he did yesterday, but according to Wizarding Law, he could now leave school, get a real job and get married, should he wish.

He scoffed as the thought of getting married flitted into his head, disappearing as quickly as it came. That would mean actually landing himself a girlfriend, something he hadn’t yet achieved during his six years at Hogwarts. He hadn’t even come close.

As he showered, Arthur mapped out his day in his head. If it all went to plan, he’d enjoy a big breakfast with the rest of his school friends. His classes today were straight forward—double Muggle Studies this morning, then Potions this afternoon. Between these would be lunch, and a free period, where hopefully, he’d be able to go for a fly, if the weather was okay.

If he survived the day, then he and his friends were planning a night of wizard chess, birthday cake and butterbeer, which hopefully Ryan was going to sneak from the kitchens for them.

Shower done, he dried himself off in front of one of the mirrors. As he did, he examined his body. He didn’t look any older than yesterday, there were no new lines or hairs on his body. He was still the same gangly lad with violent red hair and far too many freckles to count.

Arthur settled his glasses on his face, then loosened his towel. Without warning, a soft femine voice filled his head, taking him by surprise.

Merlin, I hate red hair.

Tightening the towel around his waist, he looked around the bathroom for the source of the sound.

“H-hello?” he called out, but the only reply came from the echo of his greeting bouncing off the tiles. “I-is anyone there?”

I wish I were blonde or a brunette—anything but this. Nobody fancies redheads.

His heart pounding, he checked all the nooks and crannies in the room, only to find that he was the only one there. The tips of his ears turned bright pink as he turned his attention back to his reflection. Dark circles sat under his eyes, and a frown covered his face. He was tired. It was the only explanation for the voice that was still filling Arthur’s ears with insecurities. There had been a few late nights in the library recently, as well as some early morning Quidditch practices. They must be catching up on him.

He’s no spring chicken, after all.

Hurriedly pulling on his uniform, he combed his hair then carried on whistling, hoping to block out the now persistent voice in his head.

⁂

The girl’s commentary didn’t stop whilst Arthur ate his breakfast. It filled his ears, dragging his shoulders down with negative thoughts and observations.

Everything is so greasy here, the voice wailed. No wonder I’m putting on weight. I’ll get spots if I carry on eating like this. I wish Mary wouldn’t wear so much perfume. It makes me feel sick.

The negativity depressed Arthur and was the last thing he needed on his birthday. He’d hoped for a nice day, full of presents, and easy lessons and time spent with his friends, but instead, Negative Nancy was ruining his time. He didn’t even fancy opening his gifts, which had been delivered by owl mail just as he sat down for breakfast.

Glancing down the table, he tried to work out the source of the interference in his brain, but the Gryffindor table was full of people, and conversations flew around them from every angle. He sniffed, wondering if Mary’s perfume could lead him in the right direction, but all he could smell was baked beans.

With a sigh, he shoved his second sausage into his mouth, letting the taste of his favourite breakfast food cheer him up, even if it was only a little bit.

Muggle studies was Arthur’s favourite topic, but he found it hard to concentrate as his head filled with arithmancy. He hated the subject, there was a reason he didn’t choose to continue the subject after their O.W.L.’s, so it irritated him greatly that the thoughts were disrupting learning more about muggle bridges. They were such beautiful contraptions, too.

Lunch was just as bad. Although the voice was annoying, Arthur was starting to get used to it. However, what was infuriating him was how familiar the voice sounded, yet he couldn’t work out who it belonged to. Whenever it filled his mind, it brought warm feelings and stirred something new deep inside his belly. Whatever was happening to him, he felt awkward that he was getting a very up close and personal look into someone else’s thoughts. Throughout the morning, he’d experienced such a vast range of emotions, and he felt like he might explode.

His birthday was going downhill rapidly.

By the time Potions came around, Arthur was exhausted. He arrived at class before the rest of his peers, and as soon as he settled into his usual seat, he folded his arms and rested his head on them. He was about to drop off to sleep when…

“Good afternoon, Arthur. Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Arthur’s ears pricked up. It was the same damn voice he’d been hearing all day, but this time it was loud and happening outside his head. Peeking over his arms, he watched as Molly Prewett sat down next to him and gave him a warm smile.

It was her, the voice inside his head. How had he not realised this before now?

Although he and Molly weren’t best friends, she had been his potions partner since their first year, and they often found themselves sharing a table in the library late at night. Could she hear his thoughts the same way he could listen to hers? Or was this all one-sided?

“Oh, yes, it’s fine,” he said, finally lifting his head from the desk. “Perfectly spiffing.”

Perfectly spiffing? He’s never spoken like that before, and definitely not to Molly Prewett. He usually chooses his words carefully around her, not wanting to look like an imbecile.

She giggled, and Arthur goggled at her. Was she only laughing at his choice of words, or was his internal commentary amusing her. His pulse started to quicken. There had been many thoughts throughout the day, some that would mortify him if anyone else heard.

Arthur checked on Slughorn, who was distracted writing today’s recipe on the board. Summoning the courage, Arthur took a deep breath then reached out with his mind. He crossed all his fingers and toes that this would work as he thought hard.

“Hello? Molly?”

All of a sudden, Molly sat upright in her seat. Her face turned towards him, and even through the smoke from their cauldron, Arthur could see that her eyes were wide, and her jaw was almost reaching the desk.

“Arthur? Oh Merlin, is that really you? Is it your voice I’ve heard all day?”

“Yes? I mean, I think so. I’ve been hearing your voice since I woke up, and I was curious to see if you could hear the same.”

A red blush crept from Molly’s neck and onto her cheeks, and Arthur was sure it wasn’t from their cauldron or the heat of the dungeons.

“How much did you hear?” Molly averted her gaze from him.

Arthur paused, weighing up his options. Should he lie and protect Molly from inevitable humiliation? Or should he tell her the truth? It was a difficult choice, and both came with a list of pros and cons. But Arthur wasn’t a dishonest man, and if this problem continued for much longer, Molly deserved to know what she was exposing him to.

Plus, if she was experiencing it too, then she probably had a good idea of what he’d heard.

Reaching a decision, he flexed his mind again. “All of it. I’m sorry, Molly. I tried my best to ignore it all, but it’s all I can hear.”

“What’s going on? Do you think we should go and see Madam Pomfrey?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle. The mind-reading was not an illness or spell damage, and they hadn’t been near each other recently, save for right now.

It’s no coincidence that this started on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, and his brothers had mentioned something similar happening to them, although at the time, Arthur put it down to them yanking his wand. They often liked to tease him, as older brothers do.

It was Percival who’d mentioned it, while they were tinkering with a Muggle car in their father’s garage last summer.

“So, this school year is going to be fun for you, Arthur,” he’d said, a smile on his face. “Coming of age, you’re allowed to go to Hogsmeade without supervision, you’ll hopefully get your apparition licence too.”

Arthur had smiled, his stomach lurching with excited nerves. “If I pass.”

Bilius had piped up. “The family record is five attempts.”

“And Dad has never grown his eyebrows back.” Percival smirked at his brothers.

Arthur joined in with the laughter, relishing getting to spend time with Percival and Bilius. Percival had married almost straight out of school, and although Bilius remained single, he was always away on secret missions for the Order of the Phoenix.

Grinning at Arthur, Pervial spoke again. “Of course, apparition isn’t the hardest thing you’ll have to deal with. If the voices start, you’re in for a treat.”

“Voices?” Arthur fumbled with his screwdriver as a frown appeared on his face.

“Yeah, don’t you know?” Percival continued, adding oil to the engine. “When Weasley men come of age, they have a special way of finding their one true love.”

“What? No, you’re making this up. This is all fairy tale nonsense, surely? Bilius hasn’t met anyone!”

“How do think Perce landed his wife so quickly?” Bilius laughed. “Wasn’t his charm or good looks, that’s for sure.”

Percival and Bilius had erupted into giggles again. The tips of Arthur’s ears burned pink. There was no way this sort of thing happened, they were just having him on. But still, the thought had appealed to him. He was so unlucky in love, that the thought of being able to automatically identify his future wife had piqued his interest for sure.

Would he be like Percival or Bilius? Only time would tell.

⁂

Arthur hadn’t thought back on that conversation since it had happened. But if what his brothers had told him was true, then there were worse women in the world to be hearing in his head. Molly was kind and pretty. He’d always had a soft spot for her, but he’d never acted on it for fear of being rejected. Now, he probably didn’t have a choice.

Taking a huge breath, he reached for Molly’s hand and squeezed it. His grip trembled but felt it pertinent for him to try and be brave, given the enormity of what they were facing. In an attempt to distract himself from her internal panic, he wet his lips before finally whispering in a low voice,

“What do you know about soulmates?”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #marthur #molly weasley x arthur weasley #arthur weasley x molly weasley

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rhenuvee · 4 years ago

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“Your Tip, Love.” (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: Can students get part-time jobs...? Idk but just go with it dude.

Taglist: @obsessedwithrandomthings

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Why did your mom tell you to get a job? You weren’t poor, nor was this to look good or have work experience. She just hated when you had nothing to do at Hogwarts. It didn’t have to be a good job, but your mom knew that if you didn’t have anything to do you’d die of boredom.

And that’s why you’ve been working at Honeydukes starting this year. On the contrary, standing in the middle of the shop and offering samples of candies seemed to lose your interest very quickly throughout the weeks. At least you got discounts on the candies.

“(Y/n)! Could you get me a Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans- pretty please?”

“No!”

Unfortunately, it was highly embarrassing when your friends burst into the shop and demanded free candies from you. Even worse if you see a classmate or someone you worked on an assignment with. Every Saturday, it was a ritual of you crossing your fingers and praying to every great wizard you didn’t see a familiar face and make it awkward.

This Saturday, it seemed to be going fairly well. The customers who were willing to try a sample were very nice, and no one you knew came in. Ahh, today was going to be-

“George hurry up!”

You froze. You recognized that voice- you definitely spoke too soon.

Fred Weasley, you definitely knew him, who wouldn’t? Famous prankster along with George and Lee. One of Gryffindor’s star beaters. And you for sure wouldn’t forget him after that one time you were paired with him to do that assignment in potions.

You remember awkwardly walking to the table for you to work together. You felt sweaty- did you stand too far or too close to him? He did help you which was the opposite of his usual antics. Except you noticed from the corner of your eyes that he was grinning the whole time... why was this important?

You did not realize until your friend flat out told you- they thought you liked him, and that he liked you. They somehow noticed how smiley he was around you- which you did have to admit was out of place because y’all were in potions! And of course they saw your awkward and knew how clammy your hands would get when you were nervous. It was a day of relentless teasing.

But back to a present time problem- Fred, George and Lee had just walked into the store. They were bound to see you, you were practically a sitting duck.

Your panic mode gave you three options:

Fight - “Hi Fred!” but who were you kidding, your confidence was level 0.

Flight - Run away and have Mr. and Mrs. Flume scold you? Plus, wouldn’t that make you a tad dramatic?

Freeze - And then you could-

“Are those chocolate frogs?” asked Lee Jordan. You were snapped out of your thoughts and your face started to get hot instantly.

“Um, yeah would you like one?” you said shyly stretching out the tray of sweets.

“Free samples? Wicked.” The boys each took one chocolate frog from the tray and started to browse around the shop for any other sweets that interested them.

You weren’t able to see Fred’s reaction to seeing you, but knowing that he didn’t say anything made you guess that he didn’t recognize you, or something along those line. You turned your head in the boys’ direction. They were distracted by the shelves of candies and were not making things awkward with you.

You sighed a breath of relief and checked the watch on your left wrist. Your shift was almost done, and you could finally return to your dorm and flop on the bed.

The three boys paid for their treats and left the store. You took one last glance at them as they exited and then back to your watch.

“Hey (y/n).” You lifted your head to come to sight of Fred, who was in the middle of holding the door slightly open for himself.

“It was nice seeing you.” he said with a wink. With that he left, and you seemed to still be initiating the third panic mode option with your jaw dropped. Did Fred Weasley just say it was nice to see you?!

The moment Mr. Flume bid you goodbye for the week, you bolted back to the castle immediately.

---

It was another Saturday at Honeydukes. Fred had not said anything to you about last week, and you were grateful. Little did you know, that older Weasley twin had a plan.

“(Y/n)!” shouted your friend Maya.

“Oh hi Maya!” you said surprised that she came to Honeydukes.

“Just wanted to visit, wouldn’t want you to be lonely.” she joked. You rolled your eyes playfully. You couldn’t deny it though, you did enjoy when your friends made a bit of time to be with you at your shift.

You were talking for a bit, until you saw who you did and did not want to see. You watched with wide eyes as Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins entered the store.

“Hey isn’t that Fred Weasley? The guy you get all nervous around?” she whispered in your ear.

“Maya!” you scolded attempting to bump into her with your tray of sweets.

“Oh I see how it is...” she winked in amusement of the scowl on your face. She then went to the shelves in the back.

“Maya where are you going?” you asked almost frantically.

“Hm? Oh nothing, these chocolates look really interesting...” she said clearly putting on an act to seem busy. You were definitely going to get her back for that.

“Are those sugar quills free samples?” asked a voice which made you turn your head back to the front. You came to face Ron Weasley, who you knew as the twins’ younger brother.

“Yeah, feel free to take one.” You tried to sound less shaky, you hoped it worked. Ron’s eyes widened and started taking a few quills.

“Ronald!” scolded Hermione hitting his arm. Ron was taken aback. “She said take one, not an all you can eat buffet!”

“Alright I’m sorry!” Ron said slightly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, really!” you said trying to reassure them, you didn’t want to make it more weird. Hermione shook her head at him as Harry and the twins were snickering. They all parted ways within the store, except Fred didn’t budge.

“Sorry about my brother.” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine, it’s no big deal anyway.” you said. Your heart was pounding, the fact that you uttered a full sentence to Fred was an accomplishment.

“What’s a girl like you doing, working at Honeydukes?” Fred asked while picking up one of your sugar quills.

“Oh, my mom doesn’t like when I don’t have anything to do. I mean it’s fine really, I get a discount on candy.” you explained. “W-what about you?”

“Me? Well rumour has it that there’s a really cute girl who works at Honeydukes who displays the sweets every Saturday.” he said smirking. Your face went beet red- he was talking about you?!

“R-really...?” you asked attempting to sound oblivious.

“Yes, and she’s especially cute when she gets all quiet around me.” He was making you more embarrassed than intended. Way for him to call you out sis. You were about to say something, but the trio and George finished paying for their candies and were heading out.

“Fred, stop flirting, let’s go!” called George holding the door open for him. Your brain was going haywire- Fred Weasley flirting with you?? Fred chuckled.

“Be patient you prat.” George rolled his eyes in return. You watched as Fred fished in his pockets for coins and placed them on your display tray.

“Your tip, love.” he said. He bent down to your height and kissed your cheek. You were left with the feeling of his soft lips on your face. You couldn’t utter a single word out. Fred waved at your paralyzed state and left with George shaking his head and laughing at his twin’s romantic gesture.

“Oh my god...” said a voice behind you. You turned your head slowly and saw Maya.

“Maya! What the fu-”

“Did Fred just kiss you?!” she squealed. She looked more excited than you.

“I-” you couldn’t even English at this point. You knew she was going to tease you for this big time, so you had to change the subject. “Maya, did you really take ten minutes to admire those chocolates in the back?”

“Yes.”

---

Your shift was almost done for today, however your heart was fluttering the whole time thinking of Fred. Oh god, how were you supposed to face him now?

Suddenly you heard a thump coming from the cellar of the store. You didn’t go down there often, so you felt a little uneasy when you walked in slowly to check.

“Mr. Flume? Mrs. Flume?” you called out quietly. No answer. You looked left and right, there was nobody you could see.

Your whole body did a small jump as you saw a tile on the floor move. The tile kept moving until you saw it lift and move to the side. You were shocked to see Fred emerge.

“Oh hello love.” he said casually.

“Fred! What are you doing?!” you whisper-yelled as you went to help him get out. As soon as he stepped out, he dusted off his clothes.

“I missed you.” he said a smirk playing on his lips. Fred making you flustered twice in one shift? Your heart couldn’t take it.

“S-stop playing with me, why did you- no, how did you come here?! What was that?!” you asked pushing him up the stairs back to the shop. He purposely resisted a little to make your life harder. As soon as you both reached the top of the stairs, he leaned against wall.

“Didn’t know you spoke that much, (y/n).” he teased. You groaned.

“Fred, I already saw you this morning, why are you-”

“Go on a date with me.” You backed into the doorway from hearing what he had just asked you. You noticed that there wasn’t a playful grin on his face, but instead looked almost worried.

“Okay.” you said smiling.

“Okay?” he asked repeating your reply. You realized how short and blunt your answer seemed. No wonder you’ve been single all this time.

“I-I mean yes! I’d love to go on a date with you.” you said shyly. He walked over to your small form and lightly pinned you against the wall.

“Can I kiss you then?” he asked brushing your jawline with this thumb. You managed to nod in response. With that, he closed the remaining gap between you and locked his lips with yours.

The kiss made you dizzier ten times more than the simple peck from hours ago. And bloody hell was he a good kisser. Your arms went up to link around his neck, bringing him closer and deepening the kiss.

“Um (y/n), it’s the end of your shift you and your boyfriend can leave now...”

You both broke off immediately in embarrassment as you recognized the voice as Mrs. Flume. She was standing awkwardly behind the cashier. Oh god, you were going to get fired for sure.

“...I told him to use the front door but he just had to pull a Santa Clause-“ The three of you turned your heads to the door to see Lee and George mid sentence stopping to see you and Fred with your hands on each other and Mrs. Flume catching you in the act.

“Oh my- Mrs. Flume we’re so sorry!” said George pretending to be scared and apologizing a million times.

“Yes yes it will never happen again!” shouted Lee being just as dramatic.

“You know how couples get..” said George pushing you and Fred out the door quickly.

“U-uhm I’m so sorry Mrs. Flume, S-see you next week!” you stuttered out without even looking her in the eye. As you stopped outside you panted as Fred was giggling the entire time.

“Why are you laughing? Fred!” you said playfully slapping him on the arm as he continued laughing.

“Oh Merlin, (y/n) you don’t know how funny that was- your reaction was adorable!”

“You should be glad, we saved both your arses.” Said Lee proudly with George nodding along.

“Now you can finally go on your date!” Said George cheerfully. “But if I see you both snogging when you get back I won’t be there to save either of you again.”

You blushed at the thought of you and Fred snogging again. Fred scoffed and waved them off. He took your hand in his as you started to walk on your date.

“By the way, I don’t care what George says. There will be snogging, a hundred percent.”

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fickleminder · 4 years ago

Text

the years start coming and they don’t stop coming

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

Part 2 here

You’ve never seen the demon prince look so embarrassed.

“I can call for —”

“No, it’s okay. They deserve this.”

But you don’t, goes unspoken. You can see the pity in his eyes, feel the palpable disappointment in the air. Even Simeon and Luke make sure to hug you extra tight before stepping through the portal to the Celestial Realm, and Solomon promises to check up on you after you’ve returned home.

Thanking Lord Diavolo and Barbatos for their hospitality, you turn towards the final demon in the council room and put on the biggest grin your breaking heart can muster. “Hey, c’mere.”

Satan doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you. It’s almost like he’s trying to make up for his brothers’ absence, the way he crushes you to his chest and cradles the back of your head.

You can’t find it in yourself to blame them. As far as miracles go, this is a pretty big one. Lilith coming back to life is an unprecedented event, one not even Barbatos had seen coming. Nobody has any answers either. She’s definitely not a demon, not an angel, not human; just an immortal who knocked on the front door of the House of Lamentation three days ago.

Her brothers haven’t left her alone since. You’re happy for them, you really are, but a bitter part of you can’t help but wish her return had waited until after the exchange program ended. At least Lucifer had the courtesy to pull you aside and thank you on his family’s behalf (though you’re quite certain you had nothing to do with your ancestor’s sudden revival), in addition to making a pact with you as a token of his gratitude.

With that, you could have summoned all of them to send you off just as effectively as Lord Diavolo giving the order, but it won’t be the same and you know it. Your only saving grace is Satan, the one brother who’d kept his head and anchored you in the sea of loneliness you’d been set adrift in over the last few days.

“I’m gonna miss you, cat boy.”

“I miss you already,” Satan laughs softly, pulling back with a warm smile. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise.”

You squeeze his arms affectionately and glance past his shoulders at the closed doors. There’s the smallest shred of hope in you that thinks the others will come bursting through any moment now, scrambling for one final chance to see you. You give yourself five seconds, silently counting down to a pipe dream, before pressing a kiss to Satan’s cheek and releasing him.

“It might not seem like it now, but the Devildom will always be here for you,” Lord Diavolo says as the world around you fades to white. “Farewell.”

“Did you lose track of time at the library again? You missed dinner last night LOL.”

“Levi, be nice!”

Satan only hums quietly in response. He can’t be bothered to correct the assumption; it’s a convenient excuse for when his brothers actually notice he’s missing anyway.

The irony of Levi calling him out isn’t lost on him. While the otaku is still obsessed with his games and shows, he’s no longer as shut-in as he used to be, venturing outside the comforts of his sanctuary more often. Satan has passed by the common room on many occasions to find him and Lilith gaming or binging anime together, and the content expression on Levi’s face proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the void from his Henry’s departure has long been filled.

“Oh, but speaking of,” Lilith sets her cutlery down and smiles shyly at the fourth-born, “I haven’t had the chance to explore the libraries here yet. If it’s not too much trouble, can you show me around and recommend a few books?”

Shrugging non-committedly, Satan continues with his meal, not once looking her in the eye.

You’ve always wondered how someone with the Avatar of Lust for a brother can have such terrible fashion sense. It should be impossible to go wrong with dressing for a funeral, but you guess life (along with a certain eyesore of a tie) just loves to disappoint you. Still, you’re too glad to have Satan with you right now to care.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

You lean into the demon’s side as he holds an umbrella over both of you. Your eyes are drawn to the flowers he’d placed on your mother’s grave, the only splash of color against the dull tombstone. For the longest time, all you can process is the pitter-patter of the afternoon rain on the plastic wrap of the bouquet, and the comforting weight of Satan’s arm across your shoulders.

“She was in a lot of pain,” you admit after a while, your voice slightly hoarse. “The doctors had to sedate her. She went in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” Satan fidgets awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. He’s no stranger to death, but the loss of someone dear is unfamiliar to him. “Perhaps Simeon can find out if —”

“No, no it’s fine. I just — I need to —”

The umbrella is forgotten as Satan catches you, lowering you gently to the ground when your knees give way. You cling to him desperately, and it’s all he can do to draw you close as you start to wail.

Satan barely makes it three steps into the house before getting pounced on.

“How was it? Where did you go? Ooh you lucky demon, I want to hear all the details!”

“Oi, oi! What are you babbling on about?”

“Don’t act coy with me! Lilith saw you at the florist’s yesterday with the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers!”

“Yesterday? But —”

“How come you never told me someone caught your eye? I would have dolled you up, lent you some of my clothes —” Asmo gasps dramatically. “You didn’t wear that horrid jacket to your date, did you?”

Wrestling a hand free, Satan musses his younger brother’s hair. “None of your business,” he growls, walking away with a smirk when Asmo immediately releases him to fix his appearance. “Who do you take me for, anyway?”

“Aww come on, just give me a hint! Do I know them? Is it someone from RAD? Ooh, did you meet them at the library or —”

Ducking into the safety of his room, Satan shuts the door in Asmo’s face.

“Thank fuck. Who picked your outfit this time?”

“Barbatos. And shut up.”

You grab Satan’s arm with a laugh and lead him towards your table, politely introducing him as ‘Stan from work’ to any relatives who ask about the handsome young man accompanying you. Satan’s usual mask is in place, but there’s no mistaking the gleam of wonder in his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat and grinning sheepishly at the blond. “Sorry about them. It’s just that they’ve never seen me with anyone, so they’re really curious about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you invited me along. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” The romantic in Satan is openly basking in the ambience of the reception. “You mentioned that your niece had gotten married?”

“Technically my first cousin once removed, but yeah.”

“And you’ve not been seeing anyone?”

“You would have been the first to know if I have,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “Apparently a lot of people are put off by the way I dress. Too modest, they say.”

But not without good reason. The pact marks on your body may be slightly faded from disuse, but they’re still discernable if stared at hard enough: Lucifer’s at the back of your neck; Mammon’s over your heart; Levi’s curled around your right calf; Satan’s circling your left arm; Asmo’s dangerously close to tramp stamp territory; Beel’s just under your navel; and Belphie’s on your ribs at the side you like to sleep on.

Passing them off as tattoos without attracting the wrong kind of attention is a little tricky, so you’d rather take a page from Solomon’s book and cover them up. Being called a prude is easier than dealing with cultists.

(It also helps you to keep your mind off of them, because some wounds continue to hurt even after they heal, so there’s that.)

Sensing the drop in your mood, Satan clears his throat to get your attention. It’s only then that you realize there’s music playing in the background, and couples moving from their tables to the floor.

Your companion stands up and offers you his hand, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “May I have this dance?”

Lucifer’s tone books no room for argument. “This will be a family event, so I expect your attendance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little escapades over the past few months.”

“Tch.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Satan has to resist the urge to hurl his hardcover at the back of Lucifer’s head when he takes his leave. That’s no way to treat a book, after all.

Beel’s Fangol team has an upcoming match and it’ll be Lilith’s first time watching him play. She’s been hyped up for weeks, so it comes as no surprise that Lucifer would use the opportunity to turn it into a family outing. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Gone is the stuffy first-born who can spend days in his office if left unchecked. Lucifer is still as strict as ever, still fulfills his duties to Lord Diavolo diligently, but it’s like he’s managed to master balancing work and play overnight. He makes more time for his siblings now, even if it’s to dole out punishments for their endless shenanigans, punishments that vary in severity depending on how cutely Lilith pleads on their behalf.

Lucifer has always doted on her, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Belphie has even gone as far as corrupting her into pranking him, and she need only bat her eyelashes to get off scot-free.

Lilith was the catalyst for the Fall, her descendent the glue that brought her siblings back together, and her return the final piece in making their family whole again.

But you were family too, Satan thinks sourly, pulling out his D.D.D. to mark the date in his calendar.

When you invite Satan over to your apartment for tea, he never expected to be introduced to your new housemate: a handsome fellow with chestnut brown hair, sharp jade eyes, a runner’s body, and the softest-looking toe beans he has ever seen in his immortal life.

“Satan, meet Satan!” You hold out the tabby towards him with a shit-eating grin.

Both demon and cat blink owlishly at each other. The blond doesn’t know whether to feel endeared by the feline sharing his name or insulted that you would replace him so easily, but all it takes is a single bop on the nose with a curious paw for him to melt.

Satan the tabby, who normally prefers to scale your shelves and nap between your books, spends the entire day a purring puddle in Satan the demon’s arms, shamelessly relishing in pets and massages to the extent that at some point, you have a very real fear they might just end up absconding back to the Devildom together. Thankfully, some kibble and freshly baked treats help you separate the two for a while, at least long enough for you to get some decent conversation in.

You brew a pot of Earl Grey with the beautifully crafted tea set Barbatos gifted you when you had first moved in, and serve the scones you made earlier in the morning using the baking tools blessed by Luke during your housewarming. You don’t know if the little angel had actually imbued them with Celestial magic, but everything you cook somehow always lifts your spirits when consumed.

Satan has to catch himself in the middle of regaling you with Mammon’s latest half-baked scheme. The wistful look on your face is new; you’re usually eager to hear what his brothers have been up to, but something feels off today. He pours you more tea, slides another scone onto your plate, and waits.

“…Are they happy?” You ask after a while.

The demon knows better than to lie, even if it’s to spare you from the truth he suspects you’re already aware of. “Yes,” he admits grudgingly.

“I’m glad.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Lilith stands outside his room, holding a tray of tea and cakes.

“Hey, um, may I come in?” Her smile is both hopeful and uncertain. It’s a gamble, ambushing the fourth-born when he obviously has no interest in her. At best, he’ll make up an excuse to turn her away or just ignore her completely; at worst, well… she doesn’t really want to think about that. To her visible relief, he opens the door wider and steps aside.

Satan clears a space for her to set the tray down. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he drags your favorite armchair over and offers her a seat as well. He looks guarded but not openly hostile, a promising sign so far.

“You’ve been in and out of the house lately, so I haven’t had the chance to catch you. I thought we might sit down and talk,” Lilith says, pouring two cups of the hot beverage as she chooses her next words carefully. “The others told me about how you were born, but I understand that you are your own person. I’d like to get to know that person.”

A part of Satan is acutely aware of their one-sided relationship; he is familiar with her through Lucifer, but she has never met him. It makes sense for her to be curious about him, though Satan isn’t so sure he wants to return the favor. She reminds him too much of you in the way she prepares her tea, how she sits on your chair, her shy lopsided smile —

But she’s not you, and you’re not her, Satan has to remind himself lest he commits the same mistake his brothers nearly did after your lineage had been revealed. Now in a convoluted turn of events, it’s you who’s gone and Lilith here, and there’s no reason why he can’t give her a chance and treat her like the sister she could be to him.

It’s what you would have wanted.

Lilith tries not to let her shoulders slump too much when Satan quietly stands up and heads towards his door. She’s prepared to pack up and leave until she spots him grabbing several books from a nearby shelf.

“Have you ever read Mid-Fall Murders?” He asks, handing her a hardcover with a shy smile of his own.

“What’s it like?”

Satan’s grip on your hand tightens. “I don’t actually know,” he confesses, shuffling closer so that your shoulder and arm are pressed against his. It’s a strange sight, the two of you lying side by side on your bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.”

You’ve never heard a single word hold so much promise, but you have no reason to doubt the demon’s sincerity. Satan wouldn’t take pity on you just because you’re —

A light knock on the door, and in pokes Simeon’s head. “Ah, little lamb! I’m glad we made it in time.”

“Not so little anymore, Simeon.” You laugh softly, greeting Luke and Solomon as they trail in behind him. Satan brushes his lips over your forehead before getting up to receive your guests.

The day is as ordinary as it can be. You talk and catch up with your friends, trading stories and laughter over cups of tea that neither grow cold nor go empty. When the session turns into a mini book club gathering halfway through, Luke helpfully retrieves the debated titles from the massive shelf in the living room. He takes a while to find them; you’ve accumulated plenty of works over the years: recommendations by Satan, literature published under Simeon’s pseudonym, and handwritten tomes from Solomon to keep you in touch with your magic. The shelf is practically jam-packed with books, the only exception being a corner on the topmost tier, housing a little space that’s empty save for a worn green collar with a rusted bell.

Come sundown the five of you are still neck-deep in discussion, but as with all good things, the get together eventually reaches an end.

“Thanks everyone, it’s been fun,” you say, reclining back in your bed as Satan wordlessly cleans up. You squeeze his hand when he returns to your side and bid the others goodbye. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys soon?”

“About that…” Solomon clears his throat, wearing the smug look that usually accompanies a trick being pulled out of his sleeve, but this time it’s tinged more with excitement than mischief. “Simeon has a little present for you first.”

The guileless smile on the angel’s face betrays nothing as he steps forward and reaches into a small pouch at his hip. “Solomon, Diavolo and I have a theory. Now, keep in mind that this is all very experimental, but if it works, you’ll have more options to choose from, should you so wish.”

And then he brings out a ring.

“Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“Not in the mood, Mammon.”

“Oi, I’m trying to be nice here! Who do you think covered for your sorry ass when you came back past curfew the other day, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“You may think you’re all stealthy and shit, but your eyes were pretty red that night. I thought you were at a book club meeting. Did something happen?”

“None of your business.”

“Argh, fine then! This is the last time I try to be a good big brother.”

“…Mammon?”

“?”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what are you — you can’t just say that and then run off! Get back here!”

“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

Lilith’s countdown echoes along the deserted hallway, prompting Beel to nudge the deadweight on his back. “Belphie, go get your own hiding place.”

“Mmngh… zzz…”

“Come on, or she’ll win this round with a two for one. Again.”

“…Just dump me somewhere she won’t find me then.”

A tall order, especially since Lilith can easily track them down by listening out for Beel’s stomach and/or Belphie’s snores. Still, the sixth-born lumbers through the house as quietly as he can, doing a one-eighty whenever he hears Lilith’s cheerful hums coming from the opposite direction. Technically they can avoid being caught if they keep moving, but that would be cheating. They hid in the attic previously so that’s a no go, their room’s too obvious, the kitchen too tempting, the common room too exposed…

Maybe Levi’s room? The otaku had sound-proofed his walls to avoid distractions from the outside world when he’s gaming, so it’s an ideal location to hide. He can stash Belphie in the bathtub and run interference until time’s up.

Backtracking, Beel breaks into a light jog towards the other wing, keeping his ears open for their seeker. It’s only because of his heightened senses that he’s able to pick up the faintest traces of magic on one of the walls, causing him to pause in his steps.

“Hmm? Why’d you stop?” Slightly more awake now, Belphie rubs his eyes and slides off his twin, who’s studying the blank space intently. “What’s wrong, Beel?”

“There’s something here, something…”

“It’s just a wall —”

“No, don’t you feel it? I know you weren’t around then, but it’s the same glamor as that time Luke went missing and we —”

Beel goes white. He whispers a name, a name not spoken in the house for years, and a door flickers into view. One hand grabs Belphie’s in a death grip as the other twists the knob and pushes the door open, revealing an old yet familiar room.

The place is devoid of life. Most of the furniture are covered by sheets, resting under thick layers of dust. In the middle sits a tree, sagging with age and soft with rot. Sunken footprints mark the demons’ furtive venture into decrepit memory, and the creaking of floorboards with every step only tethers the growing nightmare closer to reality.

A photo frame crashes to the ground.

They deserve this.

Satan feels it the moment the spell concealing your room was broken. It had been his way of protecting your memory, ensuring that your sanctuary would only be accessible to those who made the effort to remember you. He cast it about a year after you had left the Devildom, after he realized that leaving your door in plain sight wasn’t doing you any favors.

Hidden away in an alcove at the back of the garden, curled up with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, Satan slides a bookmark between the pages of his latest novel and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Even this far away from the house, he can hear the cacophony of screams and shouts, objects being flung and shattered into pieces, a muted bang suggesting that a wall has just collapsed. The fallout comes as no surprise; waking up after living the past hundred years or so in a daze will do that to a person – or in this case, demons.

Although the sounds of fighting call to the rage bubbling within him, the vindictive thoughts of his brothers getting their just desserts cool it to a simmer. He knows he’ll have to face them eventually, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Meow?”

Emerald eyes blink open. There’s a faint rustle from the nearby bushes as a tiny Calico wanders out of the foliage, peering around the garden curiously. Upon spotting the blond demon, it perks up and makes a beeline for him.

“Hm? You’re not Callie. Are you new here, little one?” His mood considerably improved, Satan extends a hand towards the kitten. It skips the finger sniffing step and goes straight to headbutting his palm, begging for attention.

“You’re an affectionate one, aren’t you?” Satan caves immediately and scritches away with a delighted chuckle. He examines the markings on its tri-colored fur, wanting to recognize the friendly feline if it comes back in the future. The Calico is mostly white with patches of brown and black splashed over the back of its neck, near the base of its tail, just under the side of its ribs, and several other spots that seem to collectively resemble a familiar pattern…

Satan’s hand stills. He whispers your name, trembling with hope, and the kitten practically leaps into his arms, nuzzling his chin with a happy purr.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me replaced mc au

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Note

I am a HUGE winteriron shipper so if that's acceptable for you could you do a fic, however short or long you want with winteriron and the prompt: Russian Bucky. That's it. Russian Bucky. How, why, is up to you but that's the prompt! Thank you!

Bucky does not like that he’s in America again. Even if he is really only here to act as security for Natasha’s new art showing.

It’s loud, friendly, and he just wants to drink in silence. People never stop talking.

Natasha’s first night is all the exclusive donors and previous buyers. He knows some of the people. Bruce is actually his favorite American because he’s awkward and doesn’t like talking anyways, but he has a great way with reviews for art and placement of it.

There’s Clint, who’s a disaster who bought him a tiny bottle of shitty vodka and said “welcome to America! Please don’t kill me,” and Bucky’s not honestly sure why he’s invited because he’s very broke.

“He entertains me,” Natasha says, scarlet lips pulling into a grin as he watches him nearly trip and fall over an untied shoelace. “And he’s...fun. Very American.”

“Didn’t know your type was Americans,” Bucky mutters. “The first thing I know you to have bad taste in.”

“Oh, as if your type is any better,” Natasha mutters.

“And what is my type, exactly?”

“You don’t have one,” Natasha says glibly, “because you prefer staying forever alone and broody.”

“I’m not broody.”

“Your all-black outfit begs difference,” Sharon calls, grinning. “Hey Buck, long-time no-see.”

“Hi Sharon,” Bucky says, smiling slightly.

He sees Steve behind her, almost looking like a golden retriever. They had served together in the army when they were young, and Bucky’d had to drag that stupid boy out of too many fights.

It made them best friends, almost like brothers, and it’s the only reason why he usually adventures out to America.

“Missed seeing you,” Steve says, bringing him into a hug. “There’s only so many times Sharon will tolerate sushi with me.”

“He claims that it’s a miracle food,” Sharon says, rolling her eyes. “I just think he likes it because you like it.”

“I do not!” Steve teases. “Hey, Natasha.”

“Hey stranger,” Nat says, grinning. “Surprised to see you out of running shorts and tank tops.”

“You don’t only see me when I’m running,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “You come to see Sharon about every week.”

“Yeah but I only have eyes for her,” Natasha says, winking.

“Stop flirting with my wife.”

“Then stop being married to such a beautiful woman.”

Sharon snorts, looking down at her phone, and then back up at Nat.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I need to let my cousin in. He’s the one I told you about who liked your newspaper collage-work.”

Natasha looks over at Bucky for a moment and oh no. She has her match-making look on her.

“I think you’ll like Tony,” she says grinning.

“I’m sure he’ll be a good client of yours,” Bucky responds, lips pressing into a straight line. “I don’t need to be dating, Romanov.”

“Ooh last name, how scary,” she teases.

Tony is....American.

He’s already laughing loudly with Sharon about some sort of in-joke, and walks right up to Natasha with a smile.

“Miss Romanov, you look as wonderful as your art. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.”

He then kisses the top of her hand and starts into conversation about how he discovered her art from his assistant, Pepper, and he thought it would be a good fit for his personal home.

Bucky stays in the background, hoping that this talkative machine would follow along with Nat and distract her for an hour or two.

And then she turns.

“Tony...have you met Bucky Barnes? He runs security.”

“I haven’t,” Tony says, smiling. “Nice to meet you. Your parents name you after a family member?”

“President,” Bucky answers stiffly.

“And here I thought you were Russian.”

“I am. They just hated communism.”

Tony barks out a laugh.

“Well, come. Look at art with us and tell me more about yourself.”

“No,” Bucky states. He then turns on his heel and walks away.

No sense in giving this guy hope.

But he’s undeterred.

While he maintains his space, he still talks to Bucky throughout the event.

He comes back the next day with two robots to help wrap the works.

“What,” Bucky says, looking at the two creatures who seem to be bickering.

“They’re fighting over who gets to put the bow on it,” Tony says. “Dummy, put the bow on. You, I’ll give you a bow to put on. No sense in fighting.”

“You named them ‘Dummy’ and ‘You’?”

“Spelled differently,” Tony says. “Dum-E is just...he likes to make oil smoothies, and U has opinions about the alphabet arrangement. Don’t ask them about it. But how are you doing, Bucky?”

“Fine.”

“Only fine? We’ll have to change that. Let me take you out for a burger?”

“No. I don’t like American food. Or Americans.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Tony says with a sigh, but grins anyways. “Let me know if you do change your mind at all though, Barnes.”

Yeah, he won’t be.

Except that Nat likes America, and he thinks she found a muse in Clint, because she told Bucky that she’s staying in America for the next six months at least.

“I hate you,” he says, cursing her out. “Why here?!”

“Why not?” Natasha says. “Their winters are similar, if not nicer. Besides, you can be friends with Steve and not have to see anyone else besides Clint. And maybe Tony. I like Tony.”

“Why do you like him?” Bucky groans. “He talks too quickly. He is too American. I don’t trust his teeth.”

“Don’t trust his dentist then, not the teeth,” she responds with a shrug. “And I like him because he’s good people. Even if he doesn’t seem it. Keep an eye on him for me when he’s around, okay?”

“What, afraid he’ll overpay for your work again?”

“I’d like that,” Natasha muses, thinking about the obscene amount of money he had sent her way, under the guise of “her having too much immense talent not to.”

It was enough to give Bucky quite the generous raise, which was appreciated. But he still didn’t like him.

Tony becomes integrated into their lives with ease.

He likes improving Clint’s building, checking in on Nat, and invading Bucky’s space.

It’s not all bad. Sometimes Tony gives him a hot dog, which is good.

“You’re going to go rail-thin at this rate,” Tony says, shoving a baguette into his hands. “Who goes grocery shopping for you? Mice? Why do you have, like, miniscule portions? I know that Russia is different, but you still get fed.”

“We sacrifice half our food to the leader of Mother Russia,” Bucky deadpans. “And then we get our yearly tracksuit in return.”

Tony laughs, and Bucky kind of likes making him laugh.

Not in that way. Don’t go thinking that.

“Well, regardless. I think you’re almost conning me into doing this.”

“What, me? Getting free food? A whole baguette? I don’t think so,” Bucky says. “But next time, give me soup.”

Tony laughs again.

Bucky didn’t think he’d take him seriously.

“I wasn’t sure what soups you like or if you have allergies, so I brought four different soups,” he answers.

“Tony, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Silence Ice-Pop,” Tony shushes. “This one is black-bean soup, this one is broccoli-cheddar, this one is your standard chicken-noodle, and this one is French onion...”

“Well come on in, then,” Bucky sighs. “You’re gonna have to help me finish this soup.”

He doesn’t know why he does it.

But Tony’s bodyguard had a surprise funeral, can’t make it to a high-up event for Tony, and so Bucky volunteers.

It’s a charity, one that Tony never misses. Ever.

Natasha asks him to do it.

“I know you’ll complain and bitch, but genuinely he-”

“I already told him I’d go,” Bucky says. “Texted him.”

“You have his number?” Natasha questions, brows furrowing. “I thought you hated him.”

“Gave me soup. Can’t hate a guy who gives you soup.”

“Holy shit, are you gonna marry him?”

“Why would I marry him?” Bucky splutters. “What, because I accepted soup?”

“One time a guy called you cute, and you told him that he needed to stop revealing so much about himself because you could kill him,” Nat said. “You haven’t even threatened Tony’s life yet! I can’t believe I didn’t put it together! You like-”

“Do not finish that sentiment,” Bucky threatens. “Do not, if you do-”

“You like him!”

“I don’t!” Bucky hisses. “I do not like an American!”

“You do!” Natasha proclaims, laughing. “Oh my god! You like an American!”

“Shut up!” Bucky groans. “I hate myself!”

Natasha cannot stop laughing, wheezing on the couch. “Holy shit!”

“Do not tell him,” Bucky begs. “Don’t tell anybody.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Natasha snorts. “I won’t tell anybody for two months. But you have to tell him.”

“I don’t have to tell him shit,” Bucky scowls.

“I think you do. I think he could potentially like you.”

“No. I’ll get over it.”

Natasha gives him a flat look.

“You can’t just ‘get over’ a crush.”

“Yes I can. I’m Russian. We can do it.”

“No,” Natasha says simply. “Two months, Yasha! Two months!”

...great.

Now he has to deal with liking an American.

#this prompt is from forever ago so i am deeply sorry i didn't answer sooner #winteriron #bucky is russian. hates americans. gets a crush on one anyway. i think it's fun.#lovelyirony writes #bucky barnes #tony stark #natasha romanoff #sharon carter #steve rogers #buckytony

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Alt Ending, Part 5

Hot take but finals kinda suck

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Tag: @solangelo252

You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.

But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.

(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)

Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.

Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.

“Timmy,” she chirped.

He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.

“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”

She didn’t let go. “You need to.”

“Don’t have time.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”

“And I do!”

She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).

“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”

“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”

“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.

“I’m also literally dead.”

“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”

Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”

He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.

She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”

“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”

She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.

She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.

Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.

Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…

She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.

Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.

She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.

No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.

She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.

At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.

She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.

Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…

“Where’s Cass?”

His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”

Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…

She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.

On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.

On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.

Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.

She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.

Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?

She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.

“Duke…”

He pressed pause on the show.

“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”

There was a beat.

“Why do you ask?”

She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”

“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”

She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”

“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.

She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.

There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.

It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.

“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.

Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.

“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”

He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”

There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.

Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.

She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.

The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.

Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...

She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.

She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.

He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.

She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.

“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.

He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.

“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”

“Lower. I was being nice.”

Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.

“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”

He only laughed at her.

Despite herself, she gave him a smile.

She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”

He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”

Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.

It was quiet for a while as they stretched.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”

She could feel his gaze on her.

“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”

There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.

She cringed.

“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”

“Mari!”

Her mouth snapped closed.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”

She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.

He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”

Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.

“You’re the best.”

“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”

She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”

“Can I get that as my ringtone?”

“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.

She froze.

Bruce?

No. No way. There was no way in hell.

But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.

Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…

Oh. Oh shit.

Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.

Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.

Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…

“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.

“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.

She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…

Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?

Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.

He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.

She hesitated.

It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…

Fuck.

Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.

“Fake.”

The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.

He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.

But then it didn’t do either of those things.

Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.

He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.

“The fuck?”

“Language,” he chided lightly.

She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”

“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”

She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”

“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.

(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)

Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.

“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”

She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.

It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.

It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.

“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.

He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”

She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.

She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.

Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…

She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.

“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”

She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.

Heh. Little light particles with little knives.

Wait.

Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?

She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.

“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.

Marinette woke up a while later.

The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.

Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?

Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.

In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.

Oh? This was nice.

A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.

She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...

But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?

She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.

The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?

And she was being held down because the door was wide open.

Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…

And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.

What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…

Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.

Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.

Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.

When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.

This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.

She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.

Huh? Video game?

She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?

Wild.

“You’re finally up.”

She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.

“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”

She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.

“Gonna elaborate on that?”

He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”

She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”

“You know we never will know for sure, right?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.

“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.

“Do you care?”

“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”

He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”

She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.

“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”

“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.

She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”

“Unfortunate.”

She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.

She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He clicked his tongue again.

She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”

Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”

“Only if you let me play.”

He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.

She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.

“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.

“I can listen and play.”

Damian sighed a little and shook his head.

“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”

“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”

Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.

First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.

Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.

“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”

“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.

She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”

“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.

“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”

(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)

Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”

“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”

She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”

“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”

Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.

But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.

Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.

She really couldn’t tell.

She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.

Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?

Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.

“What’s going on?”

“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.

Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.

She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.

She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.

… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.

Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…

Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.

She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.

And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.

They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.

She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.

She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.

She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.

She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.

She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.

She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.

“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

Damian scoffed.

Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.

Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.

After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.

One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.

They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).

She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.

“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.

They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.

“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”

The silence spoke volumes.

She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”

Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.

“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”

Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”

“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”

“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”

Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.

Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”

Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.

She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.

She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).

She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.

Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.

She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.

“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.

Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.

A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.

“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”

Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.

Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”

“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.

“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.

Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”

“No. Just curious.”

“Oh. Good.”

“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.

Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”

“... yes. Very.”

The four lapsed into silence after that.

Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.

But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.

She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.

But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.

Green water. That apparently hurts.

Acid.

“FUCK.”

Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.

“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”

Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,

“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”

“It’s not about that --!”

Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.

“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”

Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.

“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”

And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.

#did i forget what the name of this was at some point #maybe #its whatever #alternate ending #alternative ending #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #harley quinzel #harley quinn #joker #maribat

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summonerscenarios · 4 years ago

Note

hi juno, i just saw sugar cubes with cat motifs that could double as emergency snacks on twitter today and it's the cutest thing I've ever seen!! that being said, how would the feline transients (of your choosing ofc) would react to MC giving them those cat-shaped sugar cubes for their Valentine gift? thank you in advance! (´ ∀ ` *)

sdfghjgf yikes it’s like 1am but IT STILL COUNTS. HAPPY VALENTINES FOLKS hope ya’ll are treating yourselves with the love and appreciation you deserve!! and here’s a lil post for the day, hope ya like it~!

---------

Durga

With Valentines coming up, Durga wanted to be one of the first to give you a present for the holiday, which means of course she’s gotta be the first to get there and get you something to blow the rest of the competition out of the water. It looks like you had the same idea however, as the pair of you just about barge headfirst into one another right outside of the Yoyogi dorms, sending the pair of you, and your respective gifts, spilling across the floor. It’s a humorous flurry of asking why the other got there so early, apologizing for the collision as the pair of you drop to your knees and check on the packages, and in the mixup Durga ends up picking up your package instead of her own.

Thankfully, the contents haven’t spilled over but the packaging is more than a little ruffled, and as her thumbs move to smooth the wrapping back out she spots the little name scribbled into the top corner. Her name, to be precise.

Durga lifts her head up to look over at you as you hold up her package, and from the expression on your face as you look at the little attached tag that she’d scrawled your name onto, you’re just as surprised as she is. You can’t help but laugh - what are the chances that you both ended up running into each other after looking for the other? Durga finds herself laughing along too at the sight of your grinning, and once it dies down you start urging her to open up her valentines gift; you really wanna see what she thinks of it!

While Durga tries to avoid sugary stuff, she can’t really deny her sweet tooth when you’ve gone out of your way to get her something so sweet, and that, coupled with the cute little cat motifs make her cave before she even sees your face, hopeful that she’ll like them. Plus, it’s valentine's day, right? She can make an exception juuust this once...it’s a stroke of luck that they’re the perfect thing to snack on while watching you open your own valentine’s gift, hiding her face in the box seeing your expression light up once you’ve peeled the wrapping away to look at the present she got you as a show of appreciation (and maybe something more who knows…)

Tezcatlipoca

It was the little cat motifs that sold you on buying the sugar cubes - they were just too cute to pass up! And it didn’t help that as soon as you’d seen them the first person that came to mind is Tezcatlipoca, if anything it’s what convinced you to buy them just for him to enjoy with valentine’s day coming up! Wrapping them all up was fun too - it had taken a while to get the kind of paper you were looking for, along with getting it all wrapped up and looking presentable enough to impress. There was a lot of care taken into getting them all the way over to the base, including having to bribe some of the luchadores with treats to slip the box past with you (which you would have done anyways, it was fun seeing them bristling with excitement when you’d pulled out some chocolate boxes you’d got just for them), but you’re sure it would all be worth it once you actually got the gift handed off to the jaguar therian - he’s all about sacrifice, so maybe giving would be nice for a change~!

That ends up going about as well as one expects, and you realize that once you pull the gift out from behind your back and hold it out to him the moment he whirls around, flashing him a beaming smile as you present it to him. Deadass thinks it’s a trick at first - he stares down at the box like he's waiting for some kind of test as if you’ve got a hidden trick up your sleeve, which unless he’s expecting the trick to be those tiny little cubes of sugar (in which case someone spilled the beans on your gift), is completely unwarranted. In the end you have to explain that because it’s valentines day, a day where you share your affections to others in the form of gifts, you decided you’d get a little something for him, with it being a holiday and all. (that he of course knows...maybe...not.)

That’s when Texcatlipoca takes the box off of your hands, and you’re kind of anxious watching him peel away the wrapping and pull out the small container of treats. He flicks open the lid with ease, and is greeted by rows of small, finely decorated sugar cubes, with cutesy cat faces and small, paw shaped confections for good measure. Adorable is the best way to describe what you’d gifted the feline, and as his eyes flicker over the lid of the container to look at you, you find yourself giggling and sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck as you explain that when you’d seen them you’d thought of him, so who better to give it too, right? You’re quick to add that they serve as great emergency snacks in a pinch too, hoping the double use was as appealing an idea to Tez as it was to you.

He’s not one to be outdone by your gifting gesture, so be warned that upon accepting your gift Tezcatlipoca is going to see this as a chance to outdo the gesture tenfold before valentine’s day has come to a close - you’ve caught him off guard with your small gift, and he’s going to return that sentiment in abundance, excited to see how you’ll react to the surprise.

Sitri

Sitri’s opening up more to valentine's day this time around, though you still thought you’d twist up the gift from the typical chocolate that people give out and think outside the box in terms of valentine’s gifts. The only trouble was picking out what you were actually going to buy - you wanted something that would make for a nice gift, as well as something that Sitri would appreciate and enjoy, so you’d wracked your head thinking of the perfect gift for the upcoming holiday.

That’s when you’d come across the sugar cubes - you’d actually heard about them from Ryota when he’d gushed about a store specializing in cat themed treats and how they were coming out with a valentine’s line. It was the perfect place to start looking for a gift, and so as soon as you had a free moment, you’d stopped by and managed to snag yourself a box of the cute little cubes before they’d gone out of stock. You had the option to get them pre-packaged, but you’d instead opted to hand-wrap them yourself so that you could include one or two other little goodies that you’d gotten for the occasion. It took a bit longer than you thought it would have, but by the time you’ve got it packaged up and tucked neatly away in a little gift bag, it’s right in time for valentines day, so you’re eager to head out and deliver your gift to the feline transient first thing after school.

Even though you’ve gotten him valentines gifts in the past, Sitri’s still surprised and a little flustered when you come up to him, holding out the gift bag to him with a warm smile and greeting of “Happy valentines, Sitri!” as you present him with the gift you’d picked out. That reaction is only amplified once he opens the lid and looks down at the cute cat cubes looking back up at him with adorable faces and whiskers decals to really seal the feline look the treats have got going on. Admittedly, they’re not usually the kind of thing Sitri goes for, mostly thanks to those years chasing the ‘cool cat’ ideal, but as he’s opened up more, as well as with your expression anxiously waiting for his response, he finds himself not minding the gift in the slightest. If anything, he’s more worried about the gift that he got you - you’ve put so much thought into his gifts, he hopes that your gifts can hold a candle to them as he fishes out his own gift to give to you.

Nomad

With valentine’s coming around once again, you were determined to get Nomad something this time around. Sure, you’d gotten him things in the past, but those had mostly been in the form of time spent together going out to eat places and such; this time you wanted to go out of you way to get him a gift from the heart, something that would help convey your appreciation for the gruff tiger therian. Even if it was just a small little gift, you were set on going out and getting him something, which is exactly what you do the moment the shops start setting up for the holiday in question...you just really wish you had a better idea of the kind of thing that Nomad would like to receive.

You don’t really peg him as the chocolates for valentines kind of guy - he’s worked enough valentine’s gigs you’re sure he’d like an alternative gift for a change - so you’d sought out something you wouldn’t normally have picked. Which is what led to you finding those sugary treats, and the moment you looked at them in the little decorative boxes on the display stand, you just knew that those were the treats you were going to gift Nomad with.

You don’t end up giving Nomad his ‘gift’ face-to-face however. Something came up that pulled you away from being able to give them to him in person (because seriously, what is with you getting dragged into other people’s problems during the holidays? You need a break), so you ended up having to leave them back at his office. By the time that he finally returns to the office he finds the small, cutely decorated box perched precariously right in the middle of his desk, with a small note attached to the top. Confused, but interest peaked enough to approach, the therian plucks the note off with one hand and picks up the box as he settles into his desk chair, reading over your hastily scrawled message.

‘Sorry I couldn’t give this in person but I hope you like em! Apparently they double as emergency snacks, that’s neat,huh? - call me later and tell me what you think! xx’

Popping open the lid of the box, Nomad soon finds out what your message was talking about, and he plucks up one of the cubes between his claws as he holds it up, brows quirking as he takes in the cutesy cat motifs that have been meticulously molded with the sugar cubes to make an undeniably adorable design. He shakes his head a little at the thought of how much bother you must have put yourself through getting so worked up trying to find these little sugar cubes. With that being said he definitely ends up keeping them - after all, imagining how excited you’ll get is enough to make him pluck a few out to try as he fishes out his phone to give you a call.

#Anonymous #housamo #housamo imagine #housamo headcanon #tokyo afterschool summoners #imagine #headcanons #durga #housamo durga #tezcatlipoca #housamo tezcatlipoca #sitri #housamo sitri #nomad #housamo nomad #request #ask

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twinkleallnight · 4 years ago

Text

A Twisted Tale

Chapter 4

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Word count: 2422

Characters: Liam, Drake, Riley, Olivia.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: None

A/N: We are participating in @wackydrabbles prompt 86: “Have you lost your mind” that appears in bold.

Catch up here

An AU of The Royal Romance paving it's way through mixed emotions of wants, needs and desires, of revenge and regrets, of trust, faith and hope.

A joint venture brought to you with love by @twinkleallnight and @annekebbphotography

Olivia's PoV

Aunt Lucretia stands beside me, looking up at me proudly. She has helped me in preparing for my dinner date with Liam.

"You sure don't want to stay back until I return? You may be interested in all the things that happened around?"

She gives me a loving smile, "You have a nice time, my dear. I somehow can't tolerate the Rhys blood in my vicinity."

"Now you are overreacting aunty."

"I am not." She snarled. "The Rhys dynasty has always been unfair to the Nevrakis clan. From times unknown, they have exploited the strength and valour of our people to rule their land."

"Do you think Liam is any different? They say he is compassionate to his people unlike his father."

"Have you lost your mind? They are all the same. Try taking away the throne from him and he will show his true colours." She fumes in anger but the next moment she speaks to me in a composed tone. "Remember Olivia, what they did to my sister and your mother. They reduced our family line to the extent that we are the only two left to bear the name. Don't let your aim be deterred by this boy's few sugar coated words."

"I will not forget what you have taught me aunt." I reassure her.

"Now I need to leave before your party comes."

It is late in the evening as I stand on the terrace of my Chateau looking at the golden Sun hanging on the horizons. The sequins on my dress shimmer delicately in its fading light. I am ready, waiting for Liam when unknowingly, I leave a cold sigh. The loneliness creeps over at such times and nibbles over my train of thoughts. It brings back the painful memories of the time when I was left alone after my parents assassination.

Aunt Lucretia has already left. I ponder the way she behaved today. It's difficult to understand her sometimes. She visits me often, she is there for me, she tells me stories about my parents. But she never stays around.

The sound of footsteps behind me bring me back to the present. Fiona, my chambermaid comes to inform me of the arrival of the king. I pat my hand on the parapet, as if telling the bricked wall to keep my secrets safe until I return. A quick check in the mirror and then I sway down to the great hall to meet Liam.

I see him staring at the portrait of my forefather, Diavolos Nevrakis in the hall.

"Are you asking some dating tips from Diavolos?"

He turns and smirks at me. "Nope... I don't need it. I have Leo remember."

"They are poles apart. Just to brush up your memory, Diavolos' extraordinary courage swept away your great grandma Kenna's heart. He was loyal, Leo cannot stay with one woman for more than a week. I really doubt what you are going to be if you consider Leo as your teacher.

He chuckles as he turns to look at me completely. "If I remember correctly, Kenna ended up with my great grandpa Dom. But anyway, Leo is not that bad. He has a way with ladies. He might surprise you."

"That's the point. Nevrakis never got a chance to be with Rhys even after all the love, care and loyalty they showed."

I waddle my finger between both of us. "What chances do we have Liam?"

He walks closer to me. "Right now? None!" He looks at me with a stern look on his face. Was he hurt or angry? I have never seen Liam like this. "You have to let me in... Stop pushing me away and I will give you all of me. Only then do we have a chance."

"And it starts with dinner today?"

"Olivia, this is your only chance. I am serious. I care about you, but I need to move on if this isn't what you want." His voice is laced with hurt. "And don't lie to me....." He pauses as if he is trying to find a way to say 'I will always find out the truth.'

I smile and advance to him, holding his arm into my hands. " What has gotten into you Liam. You never were so harsh."

I need to keep this under control. I cannot let him go astray with the new blue eyed beauty he has found.

Liam pours out his feelings. "I just feel like my heart is out there and you don't feel the same. I have to protect myself."

"From me? I say wide eyed.

"From heartbreak. I will be honest. I feel attracted to Riley. I want to see where things can go. I will not lead either of you on, but you need to know that I won't take your hot and cold anymore."

My blood boils at the name of the American brunette but I keep my emotions under control.

Instead I show him that I am hurt, I know the way to soften his heart. I look at him with sad, glossy eyes. "Liam, so much for our years of bonding? You know her since what? Five days? And we have known each other since I was five years old."

I know he will take a U- turn with this

He cannot see me hurt like that.

He reaches out and strokes my cheek with his thumb. "Liv, we have been friends for years and never did you show me any sign that you wanted more than friends. Not until I showed up with Riley....." He moves his hand away and I somehow already miss his touch. "There is something about her that has me captivated and I want to get to know her. Maybe just as friends."

"I understand Li." I use his short name for the first time in years. Now I need to have some excuse. My mind is running out of ideas fast. I just blurt out. "I had my reasons to keep you away Li." I try to develop some intimacy by placing my palm softly over his broad chest. "Let's give this a chance. Seriously this time."

"We can see how it goes." Something in his eyes tells me he is hesitant. What has happened since we got here? I keep my fears aside and curl my hand around his elbow and bean at him. "Take me for our date."

"It would be my pleasure." He gives a meek smile and I feel my heart sinking. Have I already lost this battle? I respond with a brighter smile and we walk out into the cold evening.

He helps me into one of the SUVs, and then instructs the driver. "Let's go have dinner." He is not the same Liam as he always is. I feel like he is distant. I have to fix this or my plan won't work.

At the restaurant, getting out, he walks over to help me out of the car.

I look at the signboard of the restaurant and then I smile at him. "You remembered?"

I feel a knot inside. He remembers my favourite eating place.

"I did." He shrugs. "I remember everything about you." He takes my hand and leads me into the restaurant.

I feel the knot tighten with those words. 'Focus Olivia. Don't fall for the sugar coated words' aunt Lucretia's warning resonates in my mind.

We sit at the table and Liam gives me a sweet smile, but there is something on his mind.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just admiring the beautiful view."

I turn around to check the view behind me. There is just a wall.. I look back at him puzzled.

He chuckles and raises his brow at me. "What are you looking at? You are my beautiful view..."

I feel the heat rising up my cheeks.

'This is not how it was supposed to be'. "How many times have you used those lines?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. Just take the compliment."

"I am not used to such compliments Liam. Unlike you I have not had a chance to date. My life is like an open book in front of you." I laugh inside at the contrast in the last comment I made. Still to keep up the game I nod politely. "Thank you anyways."

He stares at me silently and I have no idea what to think. It's as if he is looking right through me. "Liv, you need to accept and love yourself then you will see that other people care and love you." He reaches his hand out and cups my cheek. "You don't even realize how beautiful you are." He runs his thumb along my cheek.

I shiver at his touch. I curl my fingers around his hand and gently pull it away from my cheek. I need to breathe. I need to remember why I am here. I cover his hand with both my hands, I cannot let him go. The way he is treating me is cluttering my mind with so many questions. Oh Lord! Help me! I clear my throat and try to stay in the moment. " I will try. From now. " I barely complete a sentence.

This is not going to be easy I realise. I need to speak to keep up the conversation.

"Why me?" I blurt out.

"Why not...." He pulls his hand back and takes a sip of his drink. "I.... I Can't....." the waiter shows up and Liam stops talking giving him his order.

I keep staring at him. Is he really the son of Constantine? How can he be so loving when his father was so cruel? It's like a tug of war playing between my heart and my mind.

'The Rhys blood is all the same' aunt Lucretia's voice echoes again in my mind. I straighten up to be in my character.

He says something and I realise I have been staring at him all this time and missed out on his talk.

"Huh?"

"What would you like to eat." He raises his brow.

"Why? You don't remember what I like to eat?" I tease him and that brings in a sense of satisfaction.

'Okay Olivia try to keep it platonic and you may be able to sail through this successfully.' I make a fresh resolution.

"I was just checking. You seem too far away for a moment." He gives my order to the waiter.

We keep having small casual talk as the food is served. I keep picking myself from falling for his charm all the time.

As we finish our desserts I try to continue normal chit chat. "How are things at work? Now that you have a new…'assistant'." I air quote.

"We haven't started yet. She will only start on Monday. But from what I have heard and seen, she will make my life a lot easier." He smiles as he looks out the window.

I feel a sting of jealousy even if I brought her up in our talks. "Easier? You mean we will be able to spend more time together?"

"I will have a lot of free time on my hand." He doesn't give me a direct answer.

"Hmm. I would like to see what you plan to do with that time."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You will see soon enough."

"Liam, you do understand that if we are trying to be together, there should not be any hidden plans in between."

I am hiding my true motives and asking him to have a transparent relation. How ironic!

"I am not hiding anything. You will see what I spend my time on. That is me being honest."

"I like where this is going." I give him a sly smile and he grins back at me.

"I knew you would." He gets up holding his hand out to me.

I slip my hand into his as he clasps his other hand over it and pulls me into him. "Care to go on a long drive?"

His calm ocean blue eyes boring into me, I manage to give a slight nod.

He tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow and we walk out to his SUV.

The driver stands there but Liam signals him aside and himself opens the door for me. He then instructs the driver and rounds up to settle down beside me. The SUV wheels through the dark roads of Lythikos.

I feel the touch of Liam's fingers on my hand. I look down at my hand that is now covered with his and then I look up at him. He smiles at me and I reciprocate. As he feels encouraged with my welcoming smile, he entwined his fingers in mine. He makes small circles moving up my arm, causing the tingling on my skin.

"Where are we headed to?" I ask to distract him.

"The palace? I thought we could spend some more time together." I know he is still not convinced and I have to make him believe.

"Sure, why not."

We spend the next hour in each other's company, Liam murmuring sweet nothings and I, accepting his advances.

****************

Liam's POV

We are finally back at the palace. The time I spent with Olivia was very eye opening, she’s still guarded, but for right now I need to figure out what it is I am actually feeling. It has always just been Olivia and then this blue eyed brunette came crashing into my life and now my feelings are all over the place.

I left Olivia at her room even though she wanted me to stay. I just couldn’t. What the hell is wrong with me? I have always wanted Olivia and now I have my chance, but something is just telling me that why did it take me to bring another girl around for Olivia to finally open up to me. Why didn’t she open up to me all those times that I have made my intentions pretty clear.

I fall down on my bed as I stare at the ceiling, every time I close my eyes I see Olivia’s green eyes staring back at me and as I move closer the most dazzling blue eyes replace Olivia's and I can’t help being pulled into her even more.

I shoot up from the bed grabbing a shirt. “I need to talk to Riley. I need to know if it’s just me feeling this way.”

*************

Tags: @anjanettexcordonia @bascmve01 @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @cordonia-gothqueen @drakewalker04 @eadanga @gkittylove99 @krsnlove @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @indiacater @jessiembruno @kingliam2019 @lisha1valecha @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @ntoraplayschoices @princess-geek @princessleac1 @secretaryunpaid @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @queenrileyrose @texaskitten30 @txemrn @sfb123 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @aestheticartsx @yourmajesty09 @grsarco-blog @lovelyladyk88

#pixelberry #playchoices #the royal romance #trr fandom #trr #twinkleallnight #olivia nevrakis #king liam #a twisted tale

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kindahoping4forever · 5 years ago

Text

You Were Digging Plants, I Dug You // Ashton Irwin

This concept started a while back as a prompt fill and then I got stuck, used the prompt for a different piece and then that allowed me to get unstuck. (Yay!) Thank you to @cal-puddies for cheering me on while I figured it out (no jokes about it being too long, only clown emojis so you KNOW shit’s about to go down tbh) and also to @ashtonangst for her rallying when I gave her a sneak preview.

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash (back to basics, pals), what I can only describe as Domestic Thirst, Gardening!Ash, Hammock!Ash, literally so much thirst, brief reference to exhibitionism and bondage, unprotected sex in an established relationship, oral sex performed on a male

Word Count: 3707

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let me know what you think!

————-

You walk into the kitchen and sit your breakfast dishes in the sink, smiling to yourself when you see that Ashton has already swooped in and washed the pans you left sitting on the stove “to soak.” It was a rare occurrence for you to be up before him but you were working from home on deadline and had gotten up unreasonably early to finish up a project in time.

With your responsibilities out of the way earlier than usual, part of you had hoped you’d find your boyfriend still in bed so you could sneak in a few extra zzzs, maybe some cuddle time. But as you survey the kitchen, you spot his keys and sports bottle on the counter, indicating he’d already been out for a run, which is typical. You fill a glass with ice, pour some coffee over it and pad off in search of Ash.

You’re not surprised where you find him: out back, indulging in his newfound favorite pastime: gardening. You’re not sure how or why this hobby started but he absolutely loves it and you've come to appreciate it too: it’s hard not to get swept up when he’s excited about something. He currently appears to be in the middle of a heated confrontation with his green beans so you decide not to bother him just yet and you settle into a chaise lounger with your coffee.

You close your eyes, lean back in your chair and bask in the morning sun for a while until you reach for your glass and feel an empty table. You frown in confusion and open your eyes to see Ashton standing over you, happily taking a sip while checking his phone.

“Well good morning to you too, THIEF,” you jab. “You know, there’s a whole pot inside if you want coffee.”

He shrugs and takes another sip. “Don’t want coffee, want your coffee.”

Undeterred by the offended look you’re giving him, he sits on the edge of your chair and rubs your thigh. He asks you how your work went and you chat about your mornings, passing the iced drink back and forth between you until it's finished.

Ash sits the glass back down on the table and leans in to give you a quick peck before resuming his work. You attempt to deepen the kiss, throwing your arms around his neck and trying to pull him closer but he chuckles against your lips and breaks free.

“The clouds are starting to move, baby, I need to finish up before it gets too hot,” he explains, gesturing at the sky.

You run your hands over his arm as he gets up to leave. “But I missed not getting my wakeup call this morning,” you whine playfully. Since you started working from home, your favorite part of the day had quickly become seeing which one of you would be the first to suggest the morning start off with a little fooling around.

“Gotta get those stakes in the ground for my tomatoes,” he replies, squeezing your hand as he stands next to your chair, selecting a new playlist to accompany his work.

“You’d rather pound wooden stakes instead of your own girlfriend?” You tease, mockingly striking a sexy pose.

“Well especially now that you’ve referred to my sincere lovemaking as ‘pounding,’ ” he deadpans. You playfully kick at him from your chair but you’re a split second too late and he’s already walking back out to the garden.

You leave him to his work and return a while later with your laptop and another coffee, planning to get some work done while enjoying the nice day and your boyfriend’s company. But as you sit your things on the table, one glance over to the garden makes you realize you’ve walked into quite the distracting environment.

Judging from the pair of 8 foot wooden poles that are now protruding from the ground and the amount of sweat soaking through the back of his white t-shirt, Ashton has been hard at work. You're impressed by his progress but as he climbs onto his step stool to place his last stake, you realize it’s the perfect stage for you to drink in all the things you love about the way he’s built and you find your mind and eyes wandering.

You watch closely as he stretches his body to reach the top of the post and when you see the way his t-shirt is pulling between his shoulder blades, you’re reminded of how you were deprived of dragging your nails down his back that morning. Your eyes travel down and you consider how much you love his ass in light wash denim and how tight the material fits over his thick thighs.

Before you get too far fantasizing about bouncing on his thigh, Ash begins hammering the stick into the soil and your focus is drawn to his arms flexing with each strike; the rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt leave his glistening muscles and tattoos on display. You shift in your seat when you notice his long fingers curling around the rod and you start thinking about how much you wish they were wrapping around something else, like your throat or his own cock.

Your filthy daydream is shattered by the vibration of your phone, alerting you to a text message. You manage to tear yourself away long enough to type out what you hope is a coherent reply and when you look back up, he’s almost done tying the vines of his plant to the newly installed stake. He furrows his brow and you can’t help but recognize it’s the same look of concentration you saw on his face last week when you watched him tie your wrists to the bed frame.

You zone out until you see he’s on his way to return the toolbox and stool to the garage. You feign interest in what’s on your computer screen and somehow manage not to watch his ass as he walks away.

When Ash returns 10 minutes later you nearly burst out laughing at the absurdity of your situation. He’s traded his jeans for a loose pair of athletic shorts, lost his shirt entirely and is heading towards you with a giant bag of soil effortlessly hoisted over one shoulder and a large ceramic pot on the other.

“Just about finished there, handsome?” You ask, hoping the desperation you were feeling doesn’t come through in your voice.

“Not quite,” he says, oblivious to your need and instead bubbling about his project. “Those lavender seeds you picked out were delivered this morning, I wanna pot a couple of those for you.”

Your body is frustrated knowing you’ll have to wait longer for his attention but your heart sings at how happy this all makes him and how eager he is to share it with you. “Sounds good,” you smile at him. “I have a couple things to finish up and then maybe I'll make us some lunch.”

He sits in the seat next to you, beaming, setting up his supplies at the table. You both get to work but it takes less than five minutes for you to let your eyes wander over and observe him leaning over his pot, working with his large hands.

You feel a varied wave of emotions watching him. In one moment, seeing his hands firmly pat the soil with an open palm, you feel the urgent need to have him recreate that action on your ass. But in the next, the gentle way he’s handling the seeds reminds you of how his hands tenderly dance over your skin when you’re laying in bed, satisfied and talking softly to each other.

Ashton feels your gaze on him and looks up, eyes sparkling. “This’ll be so much fun when it blooms, baby, you made a good pick,” he exuberantly chats while you gather up your things. “Soaps and teas and candles… we’re gonna make so much fuckin’ cool shit.”

You smile fondly at his excitement and lean down to hug him from behind as you pass by. “You’re cute, you know that?” You press a kiss to the tattoo on the back of his neck and head inside.

You putter around the house, doing mundane things like plugging in your computer and seeing what's available for lunch but you can't keep your mind from wandering, filling with thoughts both erotic and soft. You thought this started just from disrupting your usual morning routine with him but it’s spiraled into the most distracting thing of all: you're horny but now you're horny with feelings.

You poke your head out the backdoor to ask Ash if he’ll be ready to eat soon but he’s not at the table where you left him; you laugh when you walk further into the yard and see him sprawled out in his hammock with his eyes closed.

“The second I leave, suddenly you’re done working. I’m starting to think that was all just a show for me,” you joke as you get closer.

He smiles at the sound of your voice and opens his arms, swinging one leg out of the hammock, placing it on the ground to stabilize it, indicating for you to get in.

“Ew, you’re all sweaty, though,” you tease as you carefully climb in.

He snorts as if to say “yeah right” as you curl up into his side and rest your head directly on his bare chest. He strokes your hair, you draw designs on his skin with your fingertips and you both lay quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the fresh air and the presence of each other.

“Everything’s looking great out there, Ash,” you break the silence to compliment him. “You’re really working hard and it shows. I love that you love it so much.” You lean down to press a kiss to the coin tattoo on his side.

You can feel the pride and appreciation radiating from him as he kisses the top of your head. “Thanks, baby. It’s been a lot of fun exploring something new.”

“I can tell... And watching you out there today kinda made me want to have some fun exploring too,” you say with a flirtatious edge to your voice, your hands starting to dance down his chest.

He giggles with delight, “That’s so fucking lame!” He cradles your chin up to him and kisses you sweetly. “You only get that cheesy when you're really worked up; I thought I felt you eyeing me out there but I didn’t know it was that bad, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to react, all sweaty and muscle-y and shit,” you playfully slap his chest and defend yourself. “I’m sitting there hoping you’ll be done so I can shower with you and instead you want to plant something for me? How am I not supposed to be dripping?”

Ashton laughs heartily and it reverberates throughout your entire body as you lay on him. You love the sound but you love the taste of him even more so you press your lips to his again. The two of you lay there, cuddled up together in the hammock, lazily making out for a lot longer than you would’ve expected, given how badly you’ve been wanting him all day.

Eventually, his hand ends up under your t-shirt and your hand finds its way down his shorts. Neither of you are in a hurry to speed things along; he leisurely palms your breasts, occasionally twirling a nipple. You lightly stroke his cock, enough to get him hard but not so much that he’s eager for this part to be over. It’s a comfortable, casual groove you fall into; enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies and the desire that mounts with each murmur escaping from both your and his lips.

You continue like this for a bit longer until his hand travels down your shorts and he feels how wet you are for him; the groan he lets out against your lips makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck, baby, you do need it, don’t you?” He teases you, fingers dipping in and out of your folds. “Poor thing, have you been soaked like this all morning? Think I’ve spoiled you, can’t even go a few hours without me.”

You moan into his kiss and together, you get yourself out of your shorts and panties. Ash tosses his own shorts to the side and you can tell he’s trying to mentally run the logistics and figure out which position is best suited to hammock sex; you’ve admittedly spent a fair amount of time thinking about this and you spring into action, cautiously rearranging your bodies, aiming to get on top.

The bed starts swaying as you move and he instinctively puts his leg on the ground to stabilize it like before; you nod your approval and are able to safely straddle him. He rubs your thighs affectionately and offers, “This seems a little ill-advised, let’s go in and I’ll fuck you in the shower like you said.”

You lean down to kiss first his lips and then over his jaw and neck. “You’ve done so much work today, babe,” you reply, already a bit breathy. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You sit up and slip him inside you; you take a moment to close your eyes and savor the sensation of him filling you, stretching you out. He’s right, you must be spoiled. You had him just last night and yet you’ve been craving this feeling and you’re so relieved to finally be experiencing it again.

You tentatively start moving on his cock, trying to test the limitations of your current location; he swings his other leg out the other side, giving you a bit more steadiness to work with but you still pay close attention to your movements. A couple bounces has the hammock making questionable noises so you decide on a kind of slow, rocking motion to start off with.

“This good for you, Ash?” You check, biting your lip to hold in a moan, wanting to get an honest opinion from him.

“Mmm hmm,” he murmurs, hands running all over your ass and thighs. “Don’t kill us, don’t kill my hammock and I’m good with anything, baby.” You roll your eyes at his noncommittal attitude but judging by the way he’s licking his lips and his fingers are digging into your skin, it seems to be working for him just fine.

You lean back, bracing yourself on his legs to get a different angle; you close your eyes and moan as he hits deeper inside you, causing you to arch your back. You feel his hands trying to pull your shirt up but he can’t quite reach. “Wanna see those pretty tits, baby,” he rasps.

Ashton holds your hips, helping you balance as you sit up and pull your top off. You look around slightly, considering your surroundings as you throw the clothing to the ground. You lean in and lowly ask, “That wall is high enough that no one can see, right? I’m not trying to give a peep show to the neighbors.”

“Oh sweetheart, they’ve definitely already seen the show when I’ve had you pressed against the upstairs window before,” he jokes, massaging your breasts now that you're close enough.

You shake your head amusedly and resume moving. You circle your hips a few times but the bed shifts a little more than you’d like so you try a slower grind. You discover you’re able to achieve a wonderful friction on your clit if you keep at it while you’re leaned in to him and you can’t help the sounds that begin pouring from your lips.

Ash pinches your nipples, watching with rapt attention as you work yourself up. “Love seeing you like this,” he breathes. “So hot watching you use my cock to get what you need.”

You scratch your nails over his chest and he hisses; you whimper softly in return and lean in more, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. “Want you to get what you need too, handsome,” you pant against him, increasing your pace a little.

“What I need is for us to get off before one of us gets so rowdy we end up flying out of this hammock,” he cracks, desire and amusement lighting up his eyes.

His hands roam from your chest to your ass and he grips your cheeks tight. He experimentally rocks up into you, causing you both to gasp. He gently moves against you again and you slowly follow his pleasurable rhythm while remaining careful not to upset the hammock.

The languid pace makes for a torturous buildup to your orgasm but you do feel it building. You can tell that Ashton isn’t nearly as close as you are so you attempt to slow your hips again but he grabs your ass tighter and drives his cock into you deeper. “Go ahead and cum, baby, I know you need it,” he encourages.

You moan softly and arch your back again, finding that friction you need. He sneaks his hand between your bodies and presses his thumb to your clit and it only takes a few rubs to set you off. Your eyes close and your mouth wordlessly babbles as your body tenses and your pussy throbs around him; his touch both intensifies and soothes your feelings as he quietly intones, “Good girl, baby, yes. Fuck, look at you. Such a good girl.”

You bask in the pleasure you’ve been waiting all day for and eventually your body begins to relax; you brace yourself on his chest, taking a moment to collect yourself. He tenderly rubs up and down your arms and you open your eyes to grin at him warmly, silently thanking him for his patience.

You bend down, kissing along his jaw and you euphorically chirp, “Love your cock… love you.”

He chuckles at both your words and at your kisses tickling his skin. “I won’t take offense to the fact that my cock ranks first on your list.”

You smirk at him and slide gracefully down his body, letting him slip out of you; you promptly use your tongue to begin cleaning the evidence of your release off his cock and he curses under his breath appreciatively. You take him in your mouth and bob as enthusiastically as your location will allow.

You can immediately tell by the way his breathing has changed that this will be more than enough to finish him off and it’ll be relatively soon. You pull off and rest your head on his hip as you stroke him steadily. “Feeling good, handsome?” You coo, enjoying the way he seems to shudder under your touch on every downstroke.

“Love your mouth… love you,” he quips, in a voice that is somehow simultaneously amused at his own joke and nearly blissed out from how you’re working him.

You giggle at his wisecrack and lean over to take his balls in your mouth; your tongue dances over the seam and he yelps deliciously, hands rushing to grip your hair. You pull off with a pop. “That’s what you get for being a smartass while I’m trying to make you cum.”

Before he can protest, your tongue is on him again, licking over the drops of precum that have dribbled down his shaft and he’s groaning your name. You brace your hands on his thighs and start to sink down to swallow him into your throat but he’s pulling you back up by your hair before you get very far. “Too close, baby,” he warns.

Heeding his advice, you decide to instead suckle at his tip and jerk him off again; you open your mouth and flit your tongue along the ridges of his head and as you run over his slit, he makes an obscene noise you can’t get enough of.

Ash alerts you of his orgasm with a squeeze to your shoulder and a strained chant of “Baby… baby… fuck…” and it’s enough for you to quickly get your mouth back on him in time to feel his cock twitching against your tongue as he starts to cum. He grunts quietly in time with your head’s movements and you cheer him on with an eager “mmm” for each spurt you swallow down.

His breathing begins to slow and you contentedly hum as you release him from your mouth and peck your way back up his body. You rest your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat settle and he plays with your hair, satisfied and lost in thought.

A minute or so passes before you pop your head up, inquiring, "Ready for lunch now?"

Ash lets out a gleeful cackle. "Got what you wanted, now you're ready to move on, huh?"

You shrug, carefully navigating your way out of the hammock and collecting your clothes, tossing his shorts to him. "Thought you knew by now I'm only here for your body," you smirk as you get dressed.

He stands up and steps into his shorts, pulling you in to him as soon as he's done. "Same," he teases, managing to both smack your ass harshly and also kiss you lovingly.

Ashton swings his arm around you and you turn to walk towards the house together; you've only gotten a few steps away when you hear a cartoonish metallic crash. You both whip around to see the bed of the hammock freely swinging off of the frame that has both collapsed and become uprooted from where it was secured.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, waiting to see how he'll react.

Ashton puckers his lips and shifts them from side to side as if he's contemplating how irritated to be. Finally a devilish look crosses his face and he quips, "Well… I guess the good news is: if just watching me plant things got you this horny, it'll be fun to see what you'll want to do to me after you witness the actual hard work I'll have to do repairing this."

—-

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal @castaway-cashton @boomerash @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @abadaftertaste @myloverboyash @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @ashsun @everyscarisahealingplace @wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @another-lonely-heart @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @ashtondaddy90 @golden166 @burstintocolor @mfartzzz @babyoria @saphseoul @petunias-pet @youngblood199456 @notinthesameway- @seanna313 @calumftduke @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @Redeserts @zackoid @queenalienscherrypie @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum @laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @valdanvers @Obey-Kaylin @lovelybonesetc

Click here if you’d like to be tagged for future fics and click here if your name is on my list but crossed out (Tumblr won’t let me @ you)

#5sos smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin fic #kindahoping4forever #smut #kh4f fic #You Were Digging Plants I Dug You #ahhhhh i've been excited for so long to post this but things just kept happening #Feedback is appreciated #I'm always excited to hear what y'all think but ESPECIALLY on this one #RIP to Beth I feel like especially #yes when I was editing this last night I added in a reference to the coin tattoo because HOW COULD I NOT #you're welcome for keeping your thirst up to date #fr tho hope you enjoy and thank you for reading #thank you to Cass for trying to convince me this was like the hottest thing I've ever written - I disagree but thank you

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animatorweirdo · 4 years ago

Text

Frozen heart: Music in the dark

You fall into middle-earth with your best friend and start a new life.

Warning: Swearing and scary themes.

This chapter is a bit long but it might be interesting to read.

"Run! Run! Run!" You yelled.

The ghouls screeched behind you and your friend. You two ran like crazy through the forest. The ghouls jumped from tree to tree as they pursued you two. You could hear their haunting screaming above the ground. You could also hear them from far away on the ground too. They were trying to surround you two.

You and your friend hopped over a fallen log. One of the ghouls managed to jump at you. You quickly pulled your friend over the log. The ghoul crashed into the log, breaking it in half. The ghoul would have gotten your friend if you didn't pull her away. You two didn't waste time and quickly ran away. Another ghoul appeared in front of you, blocking your way. You two screamed and ran in another direction. The ghouls were literally everywhere. You started to doubt that you two will escape alive.

"Jump!" Your friend pulled you with her and you two, then stumbled down a rocky hill. You grunted and gasped as your body rolled down the hill. Rocks and sticks under the snow hitting you and scraping your skin. You two finally managed to get to the down of the hill. The violent spinning stopped. You laid on the snowy ground, breathing heavily. Everything was stinging.

"Camilla!" You called for your friend. She appeared in front of your line of vision and quickly helped you up. You groaned when your ribs started to ache. There was a chance of broken ribs. You ignored your pain and checked if Camilla had injuries. "Come on; we need to keep moving," She said, pulling you gently. You heard hollow screaming in the distance. They were coming. You two quickly moved, and to your surprise, you two managed to find a cliff and a waterfall. There was a long drop over the cliff. The place was pretty sweet, but there was literally nowhere to go to. You two were trapped. "Are you freaking kidding me?!" Camilla yelled.

You two gasped when something dropped behind you. You two turned around and were faced with a giant ghoul. It was bigger than the other ones, and it had blood-red eyes than rotten yellow. You smelled a foul smell of death. The ghoul growled at you two, licking its sharp teeth. It was ready to devour you two. You looked around in panic. There were no more escape routes, except the waterfall if you jumped, and hope the fall won't kill you. There was a tiny chance that you two will survive, but it was better than getting eaten by a giant blood-thirsty monster.

"Hey, this might get us killed, but would you rather be food than jump off a cliff?" You asked. "Are you crazy?" Camilla asked. "Maybe, but there is a tiny chance of survival," You said. Camilla stared at you like you grew another head. She turned her attention back to the giant ghoul. It started approaching you two with hunger in its eyes. She glanced at the cliff, then at the ghoul. "Fuck it!" She yelled. She grabbed your arm and jumped over the cliff with you. You two screamed as you fell toward the bottom. You fell through a cold mist before being engulfed by cold water. You screamed from the shock the cold water gave you. Your screams were muffled by the water, and the air in your lungs turned into bubbles. It was so cold. It was like thousands of cold needles were stabbing you from every corner.

Someone suddenly grabbed your jacket and pulled you up. You gasped as you burst through the surface. The cold air struck you like a brick. Camilla pulled you out of the deep water. You stood up after your foot hit the bottom. You hugged Camilla's arm as your legs felt like jello. "Fuck, it's cold," Your teeth clattered. You turned toward Camilla. "Are you okay?" You asked. She was shaking as well. You both were dripping wet from the cold water. "Uhm... look over there," Camilla suddenly pointed out. You followed her gaze, confused, then froze when you saw people. They were wearing strange medieval clothes and were staring at you two with shocked and frightful expressions. Why were they wearing medieval clothes? You then noticed a slight change in the environment. The waterfall was gone, and it was morning. If you recalled correctly. It was still nighttime before you two jumped over the cliff. You also didn't hear the ghouls anymore. Where in the hell you two ended up to?

"Camilla... where the fuck are we?" You asked.

And that's how you two came to this world. Middle-earth, the land of humans, dwarves, elves, and orcs. There are even people called Valars and Maiars, who are like gods of this world. You and Camilla were completely dumbstruck when you heard that from the village people you met at the lake. However, you two needed to do a lot of convincing to make them believe that you were not the dark lord's servants. This dark lord guy, Morgoth was a big deal and something to be afraid of. You and Camilla, however, didn't think about it much and started traveling in this new world. It was fairly exciting, but sometimes you two got really homesick, which led you two to settle down in a nice village near the mountains of Himring and the place called Maglor's Gap. Weird names, but this was another world, so it made sense.

"Cami! I'm home!" You came through the door. The door slamming against the wall with a loud sound after you kicked it. "Can you like not break the damm door?!"Camilla yelled from the table. She had a bowl in her hands, and there was an open book on the table. You frowned in curiosity after you smelled a mild scent of coffee. "Are you still trying to make coffee out of those beans?" You asked, walking over to the table. "So what?" She asked back. "You don't know how to make coffee, and those beans aren't really coffee beans," You pointed at the bowl of green beans. "Well! It's better than nothing," Camilla continued what she was doing. You shook your head then approached the kitchen cabinets. Camilla and her caffeine addiction. It's been five months since you two came here, and she started to miss her morning coffees desperately. After you two moved into this village, she has been trying to come up with a recipe to make coffee out of the beans that closely resembled the brown coffee beans. She has tried at least five times, and every time it failed. You two ended up drinking something worse than expired milk.

You opened the cabinet, then saw something very bad. You two were out of food. Again. "Cami! There's nothing to eat!" You turned toward your best friend. "What?" She turned toward you then saw the inside of the cabinet. She groaned, knowing what an empty cabinet meant. "For fuck sake," She stated.

You two walked through the thick forest, holding baskets. It was spring, so finding food was easy since you two mostly fed of from berries and mushrooms. You two occasionally buy food from the village, but money was difficult to get in this world. Technically, you two were broke, really broke. You two sometimes do volunteer works to earn some money, but the money was not enough to feed both of you, so it was off into the forest every time the cabinet was empty. Berries and mushrooms were free.

You crouched down to pick up a batch of brown ceps. Too bad you disliked mushrooms, but it was literally one of the only things you can eat. You fell on your knees after they grew tired of crouching down too long. "You know something, a supermarket would be a really cool place right now," You said and stared at the sky. "I know, too bad credit cards are completely useless around here," Camilla answered. She sighed and stretched her legs. "We could have at least fall into a world where we can at least use our world's currency," She explained. "This world sucks. I wanna go home," You stated. Your thoughts ran back to the memory you saw the giant ghoul for the last time. You actually didn't mind getting eaten by a ghoul right now. Sounds a lot better than walking around in this world, eating berries and mushrooms. "Okay, come on, the cabinet is not gonna fill itself. We need to be back before the nightfall," Camilla stated. You mentally whined. You really didn't want to go through a forest. You wanted to go back to the house and take a nap.

After three hours of suffering and looking through a stupid forest. You two managed to fill your baskets with delicious berries and edible mushrooms. You two were currently in a large meadow. You took a big yawn and looked around the meadow. You stood under a large tree. It gave perfectly shaded from the sun. You set your basket down then sat down, leaning against the tree. "(Name)! I'm gonna go back to the village to buy some meat!" Camilla called. "Okay, I'm gonna stay here and relax a bit," You answered. "Okay, but come back before the sunset or I make dinner for myself!" She called. "Alright!" You answered. You then saw her pick up her basket and disappeared into the forest you two came from. You took a deep sigh and leaned against the tree. You then glanced at the scenery you saw in the distance. Mountains, wide-open land, and forest. It felt so same and unknown at the same time. You didn't really know what to think about it. You and Camilla encountered many types of people. You once met dwarves and that was an exciting experience. Dwarves were quite friendly folk, despite what things have been said about them. Elves and orcs were the only ones you two haven't seen. Elves could be nice to meet, but maybe not orcs. They are said to be the dark lord's servants and the most violent creatures on the earth. It's for the best that you two won't even think about them. You got more serious things to worry about, like getting some decent food on the table.

Your head laid against the bark of the tree. You yawned, and your eyes started drooping. It was peaceful. You don't even remember the last time you found peace. Your eyelids started to close slowly and it was hard to keep them open. Maybe a little nap won't hurt. You were about to close your eyes, but then you remembered something that motivated your eyes to stay open. You never slept well because of the nightmares. Every time you go to sleep, nightmares always bother you, making you wake up in the middle of the night. You were technically an insomniac. That's why you are always tired. You stared into nothingness as you tried to keep your eyes open, but they wanted to close so badly. You yawned. It's been ages since you had a good sleep. The whole thing almost sounds foreign to you,

Birds singing caught your ears. The song of the birds made the situation worse. Your eyes were harder to keep open. A yawn broke out of your mouth. Maybe a short nap won't bother. There was a tiny chance that you will catch a nightmare in such a short time.

You wake up to a sudden sound of a gust of cold wind. Your heart started beating up after you noticed there was snow everywhere. You stood up in a panic. What happened? Why it was winter out of a sudden? You looked up to the sky and saw that it was dark. You weren't sure if it was a night. The moon and the stars were missing. It was just pitch-black darkness. You gasped when you heard a deep rumbling sound from the forest. You stared at the forest where the sound came from. No, it coulnd't be. You backed away with a beating heart. You almost fell on the ground from the startle when you heard the same sound behind you. Your whole body started to shake from a familiar feeling of fear. You stared at the forest in front of you. There was nothing but darkness, but you knew. You knew what lurked in there. Stalking you. Ready to devour your whole existence.

You backed away, not breaking eye contact with the dark forest. Your back hit against the tree. Burning tears started to come out of your eyes. "Please... don't..." You fell against the tree. A familiar feeling touched your bare hands. You saw frost covering your hands under its white layer. Heavy breaths escaped your mouth. The warm air turning into a visible mist from every breath you took. You hugged yourself to protect the last bits of warmth you had. "Go away, Go away..." You begged. The tears running freely across your cheeks. You heard heavy steps coming toward you, but you didn't dare to look up to see what it was. You knew what it was, and you didn't want to look into its eyes. "Go away, please..." You were whimpering at this point.

The silence and the wind were replaced with gentle and beautiful music. You stopped shaking as the fear you felt disappeared. The beautiful music was accompanied by soft humming. Was somebody... singing? Everything suddenly became dark.

You opened your eyes and stared at the green grass in front of you. It was warm, and there was no snow. The sky was blue, and the birds flew across it with freedom. You looked at the forest. There was nothing. You dried up the tears that managed to dry up against your skin. It was just another nightmare. You almost laughed for even thinking a short nap would spare you from nightmares.

Your attention was caught by familiar music you heard in your nightmare. You looked around the tree and saw a person playing harp. The person was obviously a male, telling from the deepness of his voice. He was quite tall and had long dark hair covering his back. What really caught your attention was his ears. They were pointy. Was he an elf?

You stood quiet and listened to his music. He was a pretty good musician. The dreadful feeling of fear you felt before was gone. You felt calm and relaxed like there was nothing to be afraid of. His humming was also very calming. You can only imagine what his voice sounded like. You were gonna take a bet that his voice was angel-like.

The music ended shortly, and the silence took over the meadow. The birds started singing, and the crickets went on with their business. You almost didn't notice how quiet it was when the elf stopped playing. It was like animals stood quiet for him to play his harp. You heard the elves had a special bond with nature, but this was the first time you got to witness that happen. The silence between you and him started to bug you. You were still literally staring at him while he didn't even know you were there. To avoid future awkwardness, it's better to say something now than nothing.

"Nice song," You said.

You almost crapped yourself when he suddenly snapped his attention toward you. His eyes were steel grey and almost sent shivers to your spine from their coldness. He was quite handsome, though, but you still better be careful with your words. He looked like he was having a bad day. "Who are you?" He demanded. Bingo, he had a great voice. You quickly regained yourself. "Sorry if I scared you, but in my defense, I was already here taking a nap before you started playing," You explained. He stared at you for a moment like he was trying to figure out if you were lying. You shifted uncomfortably, wanting to look away from his intense stare. Oh no, you managed to make this awkward, didn't you?

His expression became softer after he saw your basket and not any traces of suspicion. "I see. I apologize for my attitude. I'm having kind of a bad day," He explained. Hah, you knew it. "No worries, not every day is a good day," You said. He chuckled, which sounded like a scoff. "Unless every day is a bad day," He muttered under his breath. You frowned when you heard that. He was probably having more than just a bad day. You could offer some comfort, but you didn't know him at all, so it's better to stay out of his personal business. Silence took over the atmosphere for a while.

"So... do you live around here? I heard you don't meet elves around these parts often," You asked. He looked at you, then chuckled. "Bold words from someone who lives in elven lands," He said with an amused tone. Was he making fun out of you? "Hey! I recently moved to a village around here. I haven't gotten time to learn anything," You defended yourself. "Oh really?" He questioned with a challenging look. "Yes," You answered. He stared at you for a moment before chuckling with a tiny smile. You crossed your arms and smiled along. His mood seemed to turn positive, which was a good sign.

"What's your name?" You asked, wanting to know. "How about you tell me your name first since I was the first one to ask," He said back. You rolled your eyes. "Okay. My name is (Name). May I ask what's your name?" You answered. He chuckled. "I don't think you want to know," He said. "And why is that?" You asked. This intrigues your curiosity. "Because when I tell my name, people tend to avoid having anything to do with me," He explained. That sounded a bit dark. Telling from the tone of his voice.

"Try me," You said. He glanced at you curiously. You got guts. "My name is Maglor from the house of Feanor," He waited for your reaction. "Cool," You casually said. Okay, not what he was expecting. He stared at you curiously.

You glanced at the sky and saw the sun descending on the horizon. "I need to go," You got up then picked up your basket. "I need to be back at home before my friend starts making dinner without me," You explained. "See you around, Maglor from the house of Feanor," You waved your goodbye then walked into the forest. Maglor watched as your figure disappeared into the forest. You were... interesting for a human. He glanced at the sunset, then sighed. He got up, holding his harp against his chest. He better go back too. He glanced at the forest you disappeared into. There was a very tiny chance you two would meet again, but for some reason, he had a tingle of hope that you would meet again. He was not sure why. Maybe because he had a normal conversation with someone that didn't include the drama of his family and the damn oath. He started to walk back to his brother's fortress. The sun finally settled down, making room for the moon and allowing Varda's starts to give light to the middle-earth.

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trvelyans-archive · 4 years ago

Text

If anyone else – anyone, even Sally or Nick – asked you to go on a hike with them, it would be an immediate “no”.

With Gray, it’s an immediate “yes”. (Though, to be fair, he could ask you to spray paint the Chicago Bean with him before lighting it on fire, and even then, you’d only hesitate for a split second before Googling what store that sells spray paint is closest to your house). Sure, it helps that this is a walk instead of a hike, and it helps more that he drove you to the lakefront on his motorcycle, but still… Sally would get a ten-minute walk to the closest Burger King to your house and a ten-minute walk back at most, and even then, you’d probably complain a little anyway.

Though maybe you could be convinced on a night like this, considering how nice it is outside. You and Gray stopped to watch the sunset an hour ago, sitting on a bench close to the water and splitting a Diet Coke and a bag of fries (which, unfortunately, you were forced to eat without ketchup after the first half, though it helped that he fed some of them to you). Now that it’s getting dark out, the two of you have started walking back to his motorcycle to head to his place, and you occasional sneak a sideways glance at him when you can, just to admire how pretty he is with his hair all windswept.

Four years ago, on a night like this, you’d sit and watch the sunset through the kitchen window while sitting on the counter and eating a whole sleeve of stale crackers, and now you’re here strolling through a nice lakefront park, holding hands with the man you’ve been in love with for the same amount of time.

… Weird. Life can be really weird sometimes.

Gray glances over at you when he feels you looking, and you watch in real time as he starts to smile. “You look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs eventually, once he’s smiling enough that you can see his adorably perfect dimple. “Did I say that already?”

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes. He even had the audacity to say it after he wiped a smear of ketchup off your cheek and then stared at you adoringly for ten seconds like that was something stare-worthy.

“Well, there’s no harm in reminding you.” He tightens his grip on you and tries to pull you a little closer to him on the sidewalk. “Because I love you.”

“You’ve also said that already.”

“I know,” he replies, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. “But it never hurts for you to hear it again.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and look away, trying to pretend that he can’t see and also isn’t smirking about how much you’re blushing.

It’s especially nice out because of how quiet the park is, you think. The couple times you’ve been here before with Nick or Sally or another one of your friends that quickly dumped you, it’s been packed bench-to-bench, but it’s practically empty tonight, save for a handful of other couples who are also wandering down the sidewalks or sitting on the grass and who very clearly do not want to leave.

(God, referring to you and Gray as a couple… also very weird.)

Eventually your path starts to curve away from the water and back towards the parking lot where there are much less people – much less light, too, with the trees on either side covering up the sky above you. You’re looking up and admiring the leaves when Gray tugs on your hand again. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You snort. “You don’t have to ask, Gray.”

“I know I don’t have to ask, but I want to.” He smiles. “It’s polite.”

That gets a smile out of you, too, and his grows a little wider when he sees it. “Just thinking,” you say, trying to go for the best enigmatic delivery you can manage.

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly willing to play along. Not that that’s a surprise – he’s usually willing to play along when you joke around with him like this, the same way you’d play along and arrange a getaway car in the event that you successfully burned down one of the most famous Chicago landmarks and weren’t immediately picked up by police. “Is there anything in particular you’re thinking about?”

Besides hypothetical arson? You turn around and look over your shoulder at the retreating backs of the elderly couple that just walked by you. They’re probably far enough away that they won’t hear you by now, unless they’re Ments with brain ranges like Nick’s (which is unlikely). “You,” you answer as you turn back around, satisfied that no one else can hear your conversation.

“Me?” Gray touches his free hand to his chest. “I’m honoured.”

“Oh, shush,” you say, shaking your head.

“I mean it,” he replies. He pulls you closer to him until you’re practically hip-to-hip and lowers his head to talk in your ear. “I like knowing you think about me, Mari.”

It’s hard to think when he’s so close to you, but you try not to let it get the best of you. “I’m thinking a lot of things about you right now,” you continue. He does dirty talk a lot better than you, but you’re working on it.

“Good things, I hope?”

He yelps when you elbow him. “Obviously.”

“Mmm. Like what?”

You glance over your shoulder again to double-check that the elderly couple is gone before giving Gray a wicked, albeit slightly self-conscious, smile. “Like how long we can make out in the park before people start yelling at us?” you answer.

He pulls you to a stop on the sidewalk, his eyes flickering to your lips a second before he leans in to kiss you – but not before you lean in to kiss him, first.

Kissing Gray is new, but it’s not weird. It’s the exact opposite of weird. He makes sure of that every time.

You shake his hand out from yours – which makes him grunt in protest, which makes you smile against his lips – and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer against you, so close that there’s barely a centimeter between your bodies. He places his hands on your waist as the kiss deepens and holds you tightly as he walks you backwards, off the path and into the trees, and you’re very glad that you came here tonight instead of some other time during the day, because not getting to do this would be a crime (and doing it then might, you know, actually be considered a crime). He grunts again as his back hits the trunk of a tree and you smile, moving your hands to cup his face, pulling him even closer to you until you can literally feel his belt buckle pressing against your stomach, so much that you’ll be shocked if it doesn’t leave an indent.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, moving away from your lips as his kisses start migrating down the line of your jaw and his hands move to the small of your back. “So perfect. So beautiful. Sometimes – you’re so beautiful – it hurts.” He stops kissing you to nip at your neck. “And you smell so good.”

“Okay, weird,” you say, as if you’re not secretly loving the praise.

“Mmm. Don’t think I didn’t see you smelling my pillows this morning.”

God - how many times has he seen you do that? “Only because –“

Whatever protest you were attempting to make dies on your lips when he kisses you again, a little more insistent and a lot more impatient than the last time.

You drag your hands down to the collar of his jacket and start walking backwards, walking until your back bumps up against a tree behind you, and Gray takes advantage of the situation by pressing the length of his body against you. “I love you,” he whispers, this time lining kisses down your other jaw as he slides his hands under your shirt. “I love feeling you against me. I love your body.”

“God, Gray…”

“What?” He pulls back from your neck, his face flushed and eyes sparkling. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you crazy?”

He grins and leans back in for another kiss. You don’t protest when he slides one of his hands underneath the band of your bra and thumbs at the hooks, and you especially don’t protest when he drags his other hand over your side and up your chest, cupping one of your tits in his hand and squeezing.

You moan, arching your hips against him, and he grins.

“I love the sounds you make when I touch you,” he whispers.

“I love when you touch me,” you reply, because you do.

He squeezes it again so you moan again, and then brushes his thumb over your nipple. “Good.”

This time, when he pulls away from your mouth, he starts kissing down the column of your throat, and you wind your arms around his neck to keep him steady. As you do, though, you catch sight of something behind him, and after a moment of deliberation, you tap his shoulder to try and get his attention – unfortunately for you, he’s very intensely kissing the line of your collarbone, and it takes you tugging on his hair to get him to look up.

“People are staring,” you mutter. Sure enough, the elderly couple you saw earlier is watching your make out session from the middle of the sidewalk, both of them smiling in amusement. Gray tears himself away from you to follow your eyes and then, once he spots them, goes completely still like a deer in the headlights.

He curses under his breath and then, a little louder, “uh, hello there! Don’t mind us, I’m –“

“He’s giving me CPR!”

“Yes, I’m just – what?” He whips around to look at you and stares until you eventually break down into a fit of giggles, at which point he starts laughing, too, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Ugh… I’m sorry, Mari,” he says, “I shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away.”

You shake your head, tilting your face to the ground to hide your blush as the elderly couple continues walking again. “It’s okay,” you reply. “Uh – kinda my fault, too.”

Gray sidles up close to you again, distracting himself by adjusting your shirt until it looks like you weren’t just furiously made out with. “I’m glad you stopped me,” he says once they’re out of sight. “I don’t know if I could’ve resisted you otherwise.”

You press your legs together and chew the inside of your cheek. “Uh, my pleasure,” you reply. “I mean, you’re welcome. I mean – thanks?”

He’s supposed to be the awkward one, you think miserably.

Gray laughs and leans in so he can kiss your forehead. “You’re the cutest,” he murmurs. “Also, Mari… I’ve been meaning to say thank you for coming out with me tonight. I know it’s probably not what you want to be doing on a night like this, but…”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, reaching for his hand again and twining your fingers together before you begrudgingly start to head back to the path. “Spending time with you is the only thing I wanted tonight. Well, I mean… I wish I had more ketchup for my fries, but…”

“Next time,” he promises, smiling until there are crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“Next time,” you repeat.

An easy silence settles over the two of you as you continue back to the parking lot, and you’re back to glancing at him out of the corner of your eye again, just to make sure he’s still smiling. Just to make sure he’s still happy. You could tease him like you do with Sally when you go to Burger King, pretend that he had to drag you out here and that your feet are killing you, but you’d know it’d be about as convincing of a lie as any of his (meaning not at all).

Plus, tonight was an eye-opener. If you could make out like that in a park like this, with elderly couples walking around like they own the place, imagine what would happen if you went on a real, actual hike in the middle of nowhere?

… Your feet might actually kill you, you think, so this is good enough for now.

#HI EVERYONE I USUALLY DON'T WRITE ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP FICS FOR SHIPS THAT AREN'T CANON YET BUT #I HAD BRAIN WORMS AND FINISHED THIS IN LIKE 2 HOURS SO. ENJOY THE ROTTEN FRUITS OF MY POOR LABOUR.#oc: mari #pairing: mari x gray #my writing #my ocs #mind blind #also this is rlly terrible. sorry everyone. gray is probably ooc and like it's all bad also. i say the word 'night' too many times.#enjoy anyway tho. if you want ! no pressure tho.#ANYWAY H I FEEL LIKE THE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE WORLD POSTING THIS BUT WHATEVER I GUESS #nsft

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prouvaireafterdark · 4 years ago

Text

Appetite

Here’s my Malex Secret Santa gift for @djchika, who asked for some domestic Malex with one of them teaching the other how to cook! I hope you like it, Deej!

Also on AO3!

***

“Hey, Alex?”

“Yeah?” Alex asks without looking up. He’d moved his laptop to the kitchen table at Michael’s request, but he still has a little work to finish before he’s free for the evening.

“Can you grab me the cumin from the spice cabinet?” Michael asks, and when Alex tears his gaze away from the screen, he sees Michael staring back, head turned over his shoulder to look at him as he stirs a pot of something on the stove that smells absolutely delicious.

“Sure, one sec,” he says, typing the last few lines of code as quick as he can.

When he’s done, he shuts his laptop and sets it to the side before straightening up and heading to the spice cabinet. He digs around a little, shifting bottles here and there to try to find what Michael needs, but he comes up empty.

“Bottom left, behind the paprika,” Michael supplies helpfully after a minute of Alex’s fruitless shuffling.

Alex looks over and sure enough, there, behind the paprika, right where Michael said it would be, is the cumin. He isn’t sure when exactly it was that Michael made the transition from feeling like he wasn’t welcome to stay the night to being intimately familiar with the inside of his spice cabinet, but the fact that he feels so at home in Alex’s space makes affection bloom warm in Alex’s chest as he plucks the bottle off the shelf.

“Thanks,” Michael smiles when he hands him the bottle, and Alex is helpless against the impulse to lean in and kiss him.

Michael welcomes the kiss without hesitation, humming softly against his mouth as he turns to face him more directly, the bottle of cumin still gripped between his fingers. Alex smiles, a little smug that he’s able to steal Michael’s attention so easily even when he’s in the middle of something.

It’s not until he feels the tip of Michael’s tongue flick against his bottom lip that Alex pulls back, not so eager to be the reason Michael burns whatever he’s cooking when they inevitably drive each other to distraction.

“Any time,” Alex says when he’s managed to put a few inches of space between them.

Michael blinks at him, his brain taking a moment to come back online, before he huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Tease,” Michael accuses lightly, and Alex rolls his eyes affectionately even as he steps behind him and wraps his arms around his waist.

“I don’t think I’ve earned that title,” Alex tells him in a low voice, lips barely an inch from the shell of Michael’s ear. “Not yet, anyway.”

Michael groans softly at the thought and Alex can’t help but chuckle and press a fleeting kiss to his cheek.

“Are you done with work?” Michael asks, leaning back against his chest a little in a way that makes Alex feel warm and protective. He knows it’s impractical, but he could hold Michael like this all day.

“Mhmm,” Alex hums. When Michael doesn’t say anything else, Alex hooks his chin over his shoulder and watches as he adds some cumin to the ground beef browning in the pot, not bothering to measure it. “What are you making?”

“Chili,” Michael answers, stirring the meat to incorporate all the spices. “You want to try some?”

Alex’s stomach growls audibly at the question, making them both laugh.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Michael says, and after a moment of more stirring to make sure the beef is all browned, Michael reaches into the cutlery drawer to his left and takes out a clean spoon without looking. He dips it into the pot, scoops out some seasoned ground beef, and feeds it to Alex over his shoulder.

Alex can’t suppress the pleased sound he makes when he tastes it. The beef is delicious—savory and a little salty with a strong kick of spice that lingers on his tongue.

“What do you think?” Michael asks, twisting in his arms to try to see his reaction.

“It’s really good,” Alex tells him, and he doesn’t need to see Michael’s face to know he’s warming under his praise, but it’s always nice to watch it happen anyway. If Michael isn’t careful, Alex will need to kiss him again.

“How’s the spice?” Michael asks. “I could add some more jalapeños before I add the rest of the ingredients if you want.”

“No, the spice is perfect,” Alex insists.

Michael beams at him before he turns back to the pot. With one parting peck to the back of Michael’s head, Alex steps away and gives him some space to work, leaning casually against the side of the fridge while he watches Michael push the spices toward the back of the counter and start assembling the remaining ingredients.

“How’d you get so good at this anyway?” Alex wonders as Michael squeezes in some tomato paste, once again without needing to measure it.

“What?” Michael asks, eyes on the pot while he mixes it in.

“Cooking,” Alex explains. “You’re so confident you’re not even following a recipe.”

“Yeah, I am,” Michael says, and Alex hasn’t seen a piece of paper or anything lying around with instructions on it, so Michael must have just memorized it, which is… not surprising for Michael as much as it is crazy for Alex to imagine doing himself. “I’m just… being creative in my interpretation of it.”

“So…” Alex starts, cocking his head, “you looked at the ingredients and now you’re winging it?”

“A bit, yeah,” Michael admits.

“Damn,” Alex says with the gravity that deserves.

“It’s really not that impressive,” Michael insists.

“Improvising a dish you read the ingredients for one time isn’t impressive?” Alex asks incredulously.

Michael is silent a moment while he thinks about it.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just used to it,” Michael says at last. “I didn’t exactly have a recipe book growing up, so I’d just do the best I could with what I could get my hands on, which didn’t always turn out so good.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks, curious to hear more.

“Mhmm. Learned the hard way not to use ketchup as a replacement for tomato sauce.”

“Oh my god,” Alex says, pulling a face at the thought of pouring a squirt of Heinz over some pasta.

“Yeah,” Michael laughs. “Not my finest moment.”

“Did you cook a lot when you were younger?” Alex asks, surprised he’s never heard about any of this before. In high school and that summer that followed it, he and Michael would usually meet up either in the afternoon when Alex had to be home by dinner, or far later when Alex could sneak out in the middle of the night, so food wasn’t really something they’d shared or talked about a lot.

“Depends where I was,” Michael answers. “The addicts never had any food to cook and the Fundamentalists were big on ‘family dinners,’ but cooking was ‘women’s work’ so I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen. When I was on my own though, I bought what was on sale or, well—” Michael cuts himself off, shifting his eyes in Alex’s direction before he sighs and says, “Let’s just say I had to get creative with my ingredients for a while in more ways than one.”

“You don’t have to talk in euphemisms, Michael,” Alex tells him kindly, reaching out for his hand. “I know you did what you had to do to survive. I’m glad you did,” he says, and he means it. He might have been judgmental about Michael’s criminal history at first, but they’re a long way from that disastrous evening at the Drive-In.

Michael tangles their fingers together and squeezes once, his smile a little brittle.

“Anyway, yeah,” Michael continues, “once I got access to a fire pit I was actually able to teach myself how to cook.”

“Wait, seriously?” Alex asks, eyebrows lifting in sudden surprise. “The fire pit?”

Now it’s Michael’s turn to look confused.

“Alex, I’ve made you dinner on the fire pit like a hundred times,” Michael says.

“No, I know, it’s just—“ Alex pauses, searching for the words. “I guess I never thought that that was how you learned how to cook.”

“Well, Sanders let me use his kitchen sometimes too,” Michael says.

“Right,” Alex nods. Michael’s mentioned before that Sanders is the reason why his omelets are nearly as good as Arturo’s. “So after cooking like that for so long, winging it is easy?”

“I guess, yeah,” Michael shrugs. “And, really, at the end of the day, cooking’s just chemistry—except things don’t generally explode as much when you mess up.”

“Mm, I don’t know about that,” Alex disagrees. “You should’ve seen me try to make brownies when I was a kid.”

“That bad?” Michael cringes.

“Oh yeah,” Alex answers. He’ll never forget that icy chill that ran down his spine when he’d seen what he’d done to the inside of the oven. If it wasn’t for Greg’s help cleaning everything up before their father got home, Alex probably would have been torn to pieces.

“Well, if you were making brownies, that’s baking. Cooking’s much more forgiving than baking,” Michael says. He gives Alex an assessing look before he says, “Come here, I’ll show you.”

Alex hesitantly closes the short distance between them, helped along by Michael tugging him by the hem of his shirt.

Michael must catch the reticence on his face because a second later he says, “Oh come on, you got this. I’ll talk you through it.”

“If you say so,” Alex sighs. “What do you want me to do?”

“Well, you can start by opening the cans of crushed tomatoes and kidney beans,” Michael says.

Alex laughs. “Okay, I think I can manage that.”

In the time it takes Michael to run to the fridge to grab a bottle of beer and an opened container of beef broth leftover from the stroganoff he’d made the other day, Alex is already done.

“Do I add all of it?” Alex asks, holding the can of beans over the pot.

“Not those yet,” Michael says. “They need to be drained and rinsed. Do you know where the colander is?”

That Alex does know—he may be culinarily challenged, but he’s got his shit together enough to know how to boil water and follow the directions on a box of Kraft like every other red-blooded American.

He fishes it out from the cabinet under the counter in front of him and takes it to the sink along with the can of beans.

“So I just toss them in the colander and rinse them?” Alex double-checks.

“Yup!” Michael answers, upending the bottle of beer over the pot for a few counts before taking a long drink. “Bring ‘em over when you’re done.”

Alex rinses the beans thoroughly and shakes them over the sink to get rid of the excess water before carrying the colander back over to where Michael is standing by the stove. There’s a cutting board set up with a knife and two green bell peppers when he gets there. The can of crushed tomatoes he opened is already empty, so Michael must have tossed that in too while he was waiting.

“Do you want to dice the peppers?” Michael asks.

“Um,” Alex says, looking at them suspiciously. “Sure?”

“Here, I’ll do one and you can do the other,” Michael says, stepping in front of Alex to get at the cutting board. “Just watch what I do.”

Alex stands at his side and watches intently.

“You’ll want to start by cutting the stems and the bottoms off,” Michael tells him as he slices them off one of the peppers. “Then you should slice it down the middle and remove the seeds and this white stuff inside.” Michael runs his knife along the inner flesh of the pepper, cutting away the white until there’s nothing but green. “And now we can dice it.”

Michael cuts the pepper into strips and then pushes them together horizontally so he can dice them with another swift pass of his knife, leaving the pepper in uniform squares.

“Okay, now it’s your turn,” Michael says, moving aside so Alex can take his place.

Alex picks up the knife and follows Michael’s instructions. He thinks he’ll be able to manage it okay, as long as he doesn’t let Michael’s gentle encouragement in his ear distract him too much—He knows his way around a knife after all, albeit in very different circumstances.

He’s doing fine until he gets to the actual dicing part. His fingers can’t seem to keep a steady enough grip on the pepper strips to make the kind of uniform cuts that Michael had been able to execute.

“Hang on,” Michael murmurs, and a moment later Alex feels him warm and solid against his back.

Alex swallows as Michael’s palms travel down the length of his forearms, not stopping until he covers Alex’s hands with his own. He feels caged in like this, pressed up against the counter a little, Michael’s breath fanning over the back of his neck, and suddenly Alex’s thoughts are very far away from the chili he’s supposed to be helping Michael make.

“You want to let the knife do the work here,” Michael tells him, grabbing Alex’s attention once again. “It’s sharp, it’ll slice through it much easier if you don’t add so much pressure.” He guides Alex’s hand as he slices through a row of peppers, the motion much smoother now. “See? Much easier that way. Now try it on your own.”

Michael drops his hands to rest on Alex’s hips as he watches over his shoulder. Alex tries not to be distracted by the way his fingers are edging up under the hem of his shirt, the way Michael’s low hum of approval when he passes the knife over the peppers again makes his heart beat faster.

He thinks he has it handled until Michael drawls in his ear, “Perfect. Just like that, Alex. Nice, even strokes,” and Alex nearly chops his own finger off.

“Michael,” he says sharply, head spinning a little.

“Hm?” the bastard hums lazily, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Are you fucking with me?” Alex asks, and he can feel Michael’s chest rumble with laughter against his back.

“Not yet,” Michael says, nuzzling into the side of his head a little to press a kiss over his pounding pulse, and Alex has to let go of the knife before he really does hurt himself.

He can feel Michael smile against his neck when he takes a deep, calming breath, bracing his hands on the counter.

“Go wash your hands,” Alex tells him, needing a minute to clear his head, “and then tell me how to finish this.”

“Yes, sir,” Michael says, and then the hands on his hips and the warmth at his back are gone.

Once he hears the sink running, Alex makes short work of the peppers and adds them to the pot.

Michael comes back a short moment later and stirs the diced peppers into the pot with one hand as he fiddles with the burner knob with the other. Alex leaves him to it while he washes his own hands.

“Perfect,” Michael comments when he’s satisfied. “Now it just needs to simmer for an hour.”

Alex doesn’t waste any time stepping back into Michael’s space, not even bothering to dry his hands on the dish towel Michael left by the sink. If Michael is upset about the water soaking into the thin fabric of his t-shirt where Alex grips his waist, he doesn’t say so. Instead, his hands slide up Alex’s shoulders, one of them finding a home in the short hair at the back of his neck.

“A whole hour, huh?” Alex asks, eyes drifting down toward Michael’s mouth.

“Mhmm,” Michael hums slowly, a coy smile spreading over his lips.

“That’s a lot of time,” Alex muses. “What do you think we should do with it?”

Michael’s grip on Alex’s hair tightens just a little. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

Michael manages to set the timer on the stove before Alex drags him back to his bedroom.

It’s a good thing, too. By the time the alarm goes off, they’ve worked up quite the appetite.

#malexsanta2020 #malexsanta #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my fic

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closedafterdark · 4 years ago

Note

jfc man when i asked for the saerom x trainer smut i was expecting you to pull up with a quick write. It was more than I could ask for thank you very much. Theres a not much fromis smuts so its always a great read. Anyways for the next promt: Jisun in a cafe mete-cute that turned steamy in the bathroom go (include titty fucking if possible pls and thank you)

A follow up to Saerom.

You looked outside the window, nervous.

The previous night’s rain droplets reflected as the bright sunlight hit it. Lots of people were enjoying a beautiful day with their loved ones.

Here you were, in an intimate cafe that was brightly lit and minimalist in feel. Only a handful of customers were inside, mainly people getting their morning started. You looked down at the giant leaf the rather cute barista made for you and sighed. Your parents have been pressuring you to get married, and so you agreed to go on a blind date if it meant they can’t interfere with your dream to be a professional photographer.

You knew nothing of this woman, only that she was a few years younger and the daughter of your father’s friend.

You dressed up, but thought it was overkill as you sat in the cafe. You spent the previous night debating all possible color combinations for your outfit. In the end you decided on: a shirt that you ironed longer than you should’ve to make sure not a single wrinkle was formed, a skinny black tie, black skinny slacks that were a bit too short on you and freshly shined black shoes. One would assume you were going to a funeral or were some sort of bodyguard. All that planning just for you to return to a color you always wore. You looked at your watch, the woman was almost ten minutes late. Taking a glance around the cafe, you see a table of several women stealing glances at you and whispering to each other.

Just then, the door opens and a woman runs inside. The sounds of her heels rang through the cafe floor as she hurriedly runs to your table.

“Ahh you’re my blind date, right?” she said, panting heavily.

“I think so?” you asked, a bit doubtful.

“I’m so sorry, I got so caught up getting ready I didn’t realize what time it was” she said, sitting down across from you.

“It’s fine, I haven’t been here for long anyways” you replied.

“Since I know who you are, I’ll introduce myself. My name is Noh Jisun” she said.

“Yes, my father’s told me you’re his friend’s daughter” you said, bowing.

“My parents are trying to marry me off since I told them I don’t want to be chef and want to be a singer instead” Jisun explained.

“I understand. Parents want what’s best for their kids and sometimes that means they make us do things we’re uncomfortable doing. Mine are the same, actually” you said.

“Hello, ma’am. Would you like anything to drink?” the waitress said to Jisun.

“A cup of red bean tea, please”

“Right away, ma’am”

“Not too many people are into red bean tea” you said when the waitress left.

“An older friend introduced me to it. It helps a lot since my face gets pretty bloated when I wake up”

Jisun picked up the cup of hot liquid and drank it. You watched as it flowed down her throat, causing her to hum in satisfaction. A little bit dropped onto her black long sleeved top, causing her to get a napkin and wipe it.

"This place makes it pretty good" she said.

"So, tell me about yourself" Jisun said as she fixed her top.

"I'm here against my will because my parents don't approve of me being a photographer"

"Well. I see then. Straight to the point" Jisun said, giggling.

You couldn’t help but admire Jisun’s long sleeved top that showed off her fair toned shoulders and impressive chest. She caught you staring at something before looking down and smiling.

“I take it you’ve noticed my breasts?” she said in a naughty tone, squeezing them.

“I didn’t... uh”

“It’s fine. Most guys usually stare at them or my thighs. Why don’t we go somewhere more... private?”

You placed enough money to cover the two drinks and a bit extra as you grabbed Jisun’s wrist and dragged her away. Her heels rang through the floor as other customers watched you two.

The spacious interior was rather easy to maneuver as you held her hand and led her to a wooden door that was clearly labeled “Men’s”. You didn’t bother checking if there were other people occupying the stalls before you began kissing Jisun’s neck, causing her to moan as you form a trail onto her shoulders.

“I wasn’t late because I overslept. I... ah... was late b-because I was touching myself. My father sent me your photo and I couldn’t resist” Jisun whispered in your ear.

“I wish I was made aware that you have such a nice rack” you said as you pulled down her top and exposed her marvelous breasts, which were extremely soft and round. You wanted to do nothing else other than bury your face and cock between them.

Your fingers squeezed Jisun’s pretty nipples, making her moan once again as you felt them hardening. As you began fondling her breasts, Jisun’s erotic moans and her licking your ear was making you even more turned on at the fact that you two were still in a public place. Her breasts were rather heavy, but still extremely soft to the touch. You licked her cleavage, tracing your lips all over her chest. The faint smell of vanilla lotion lingered through your nose as you inhaled her wonderful aroma.

You spread Jisun’s legs open, unsurprised to find her not wearing any underwear.

“I knew you were going to fuck me so I decided not to wear any. Not like I do regardless” she said, lightly biting your neck.

Your hands roamed the inner creases of her thighs until they found their way to her folds. You ran one finger tip up and down, causing Jisun to slowly leak onto your finger.

“You’re such a bad slut, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes” she smiled, before your hand went up her thighs and stopped before they reached her pussy. Jisun was beginning to get desperate, wanting you to stick your finger inside her already.

She tried holding your hand in place by closing her thighs, but you slapped them softly and prevented her from doing so.

“Bad girls don’t get to close their legs” you said.

Your hands returned in between her legs, inserting one finger after another as Jisun’s moans began to increase in volume. She tried moving her body up and down your fingers, but you held her wide hips and shook your head. You pumped them as slowly as possible in order to keep her wanting more.

This went on for several minutes until you surprised her by pumping faster inside her. Jisun’s tight walls surrounded your fingers as her moans came out in staggered breaths. You hoped there was no one else inside the stalls or outside the door as she did a terrible job of keeping a secret.

The sounds of your fingers being coated by Jisun’s juices as they fucked her echoed throughout the restroom. Her moans increased as you felt your fingers being drenched. Every thrust stained her thighs as she begged you for more.

Her juices leaked all over your hand as you used your free hand to rub her clit. Jisun was close, as she looked at you with desire in her eyes. You knew she wanted to cum.

That would’ve been the case, if she was in control. As her body squirmed and was about to reach a euphoric high, you pulled out your fingers as Jisun’s moans filled your ears.

“I was going to cum!” she whined, trying to catch her breath.

“Bad girls deserve to be teased” you said, squeezing both of her ass cheeks softly.

“But I wanted to cum...” she whimpered.

“That depends on how well you suck my cock” you said, taking off your cardigan and placing it in front of you. Jisun smiled as she knelt in front of you and began to unzip your slacks. With one swift motion, she lowered them and your boxers, freeing your extremely hard erection from its cloth prison.

Jisun smiled widely as she eyed your cock. She licked her lips, salivating at the thought of what she wanted to do first. Her hand gripped your shaft and began to stroke while simultaneously licking your tip.

“You’re so hard” she said as she planted several wet kisses on your tip while stroking your cock.

“Only have you to blame” you said, smiling.

Jisun kisses your tip once more before holding your shaft and licking downwards until she reaches your balls, swirling her tongue around before she takes each in her mouth. You moaned as you felt your balls coated in her saliva as she released them with a loud pop.

Jisun licked every surface possible, leaving trails of saliva behind. Her soft lips wrapped themselves around your cock, causing you to moan. Jisun sucked you hard, taking you all the down to your base before coming back out.

“That’s a good girl” you moaned as you ran your fingers through Jisun’s brown hair, placing a hand behind her head and guiding the rhythm at which she bobbed up and down on your cock.

Jisun continued sucking your cock as you held onto her hair.

“You’re so yummy” she said as her saliva slowly dropped down your length.

Jisun’s blowjob was very wet and sloppy, spreading her wetness everywhere.

You’re so hard... it feels so good...” she said, slowly stroking you.

K-Keep sucking, please” you moaned, feeling your body tingle.

“Of course... master” Jisun said in a seductive tone as she shoved your cock back in her mouth, rubbing it across the surface of her tongue repeatedly. You could do nothing but moan, it was as if you were under Jisun’s spell as she gave you the most incredible blowjob of your life.

“You feel so good in my mouth” she managed to say while slurping on your cock.

Jisun swirled her tongue around your head rapidly. “I haven’t had cock this good in awhile”

“Do you want me to do this?” she asked as you see saliva spilling out of her mouth as her face has now become flushed. Jisun squeezes her tits before wrapping them around your cock.

“Oh my god...” you moaned in awe.

Jisun moved her breasts up and down, watching your facial expressions as they squeezed your cock. They were so soft and jiggled each time they bounced up and down in front of you.

“Oh fuck... you feel so good between my tits” she cried, as she closed her eyes and moaned. The sounds being made felt almost as good as the sensation of Jisun’s tits sandwiching your cock: her tits splashing as she used your saliva laced cock, her soft, sweet moans, and the quietness of the restroom. Your resistance to cum was slowly fading, Jisun’s tits and mouth were doing a number on you. She started licking the tip of your cock in a circular motion as her breasts thoroughly massaged you.

Jisun regretfully let go and slowly began to massage your balls using her tongue, coating them with another layer of saliva as she gently sucked on each individually.

“Come stand up so I can fuck you” you said, pulling on her hair.

As Jisun tried to get up, her legs were shaking. She didn’t have the strength to stand, causing her to fall back onto her knees.

“Such a shame. Being a bad girl and not listening to an order from your master” you said as you stuffed your cock back inside Jisun’s pretty mouth. She did her best to hold onto your thighs for balance as you began.

“Mmph! Mmhmmhph!”

Jisun’s moans were muffled as she tried to withdraw her head from your cock; but you stood firm, holding her still. You felt the back of her throat as she continued to take your cock for quite a long time.

“Hmmph!” one last moan from Jisun as she tapped your thighs repeatedly was enough for you to withdraw her head.

Jisun started coughing loudly, saliva dripping onto the floor as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my god...” she said, while still coughing. “Oh my god...”

“Are you okay?” you asked, holding onto your cock while pressing it against her soft cheeks. You watched as your saliva spread onto her face as she Jisun closed her eyes and nuzzled against it.

“Yes, master” she said weakly. “I love your cock... please give me more”

You jammed your cock inside her again, pushing it against the sides of her mouth. Her tongue ran against the underside of your shaft as you began to roughly fuck her mouth. You wrapped her hair around your hand as her mouth bobbed up and down. The splashing sounds of her saliva and erotic moans felt amazing throughout your body.

“Mhmph! Mmmphmh!”

Jisun continued to gargle on your cock as you pushed her head down again. You forced her in place as she looked at you with extremely submissive eyes. She showed no signs of struggling, quietly taking the pounding your cock was giving her. You felt the back of her throat squeezing you until she slowly gagged.

Her eyes began to water, pleading for you to release your grip. You didn’t, wanting to punish Jisun for being a bad girl. But when you felt she’s finally had enough, you pulled on her hair. Jisun violently coughs once more as saliva rushed out of her mouth and left a large trail on your cock.

“I hope I wasn’t too rough” you said to Jisun, genuinely concerned about her.

Without warning, Jisun dives back onto your cock. The beautiful woman between your legs works magic with her mouth. Every movement of your shaft from her lips sends pleasure throughout your body. You look down and see a mess of brown hair as Jisun’s head bobs up and down.

Trying to keep the pleasure from overwhelming you, you do your best to savor it and relish in the fact that your beautiful blind date was on her knees in a very clean cafe restroom giving you one of the best blowjobs you’ve ever received.

“Jisun... that feels so good. Fuck, I’m about to cum” you said, knowing full well that’s what you’ve wanted to do the whole time.

Jisun bobs her head even faster as a response, starting at your tip and taking every inch until she reaches the base of your shaft. Her lips are wrapped tightly as her tongue is flattened and presses against your underside. Her gaze never leaves your own, as if begging you to finally erupt.

You closed your eyes, afraid staring at Jisun sucking your cock for too long would make you cum right away. You tried to prolong the euphoric feeling as much as you could. Jisun continued to work between your legs, her hands massaging your balls as her wet tongue glided across the underside of your head.

“Fuck... Jisun, I’m about to cum”

Jisun bobs her head up and down your shaft, as your orgasm finally arrives. You feel it from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. Your hands immediately grip the back of Jisun’s head as your cock erupts. You send hot, thick semen down the woman’s mouth and throat.

Your body shivers slightly as you hold her head in place. Jisun’s mouth is wrapped tightly around your shaft as you continue to drain your balls inside her. As your orgasm begins to wind down, Jisun feels your grip on the back of her head begin to weaken. She lifts her head from between your legs, releasing your tip with a loud pop. As you open your eyes, you see Jisun stare at you. She opens her mouth, revealing her tongue and mouth painted with your cum.

Her gaze is dangerously erotic as she closes her mouth and swallows your load in two gulps. She tilts her head back to put on a show for you as you watch her throat pulse with your semen being pushed down. Opening her mouth once more and humming in satisfaction, she sticks her bright pink tongue at you, letting you see she has swallowed it all. Kissing your tip several more times to consume the last few trickles of cum, she giggles as you lean against the sink, exhausted.

“You tasted so good, master”

Just then the door opened, causing both of you to look at who entered.

“Did my oppa satisfy you?”

“He did, Saerom unnie. That’s not fair you’ve kept him away from us! Nakyung and Gyuri would love swallowing his cum” Jisun said, wiping her mouth.

“Why would I share him with you whores? He’s my boyfriend. I only let you use him since I felt bad you haven’t gotten laid in months” Saerom said, untying her apron as she crossed her arms.

“Hmph, whatever. And he wasn’t able to fuck me, so I still have another chance with him!”

“As if! I only gave you one chance, it’s not my fault you couldn’t stand when he told you he was going to fuck you”

Jisun pouted, stroking your cock softly.

“You’ll fuck me next time, right?”

#asks #fromis 9 #jisun

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