#Not all brands are good enough to last your entire life
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sincerity--extreme · 3 months ago
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Homophobic that, whenever you spend money, said money disappears from your bank account... I feel like, if I spend money on actually import things, the number there shouldn't change at all, and once a month I should have the right to get a little treat and have the same rule apply
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months ago
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I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO
synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.
word count; 6.1k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((
a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple
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geto looks beautiful in the rain. 
it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.
you can’t help it, though.
it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.
those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue. 
you take that as your cue to move closer. 
he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.
you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.
you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.
(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)
nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.
”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.
”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”
with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”
”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 
silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 
maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.
(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)
”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”
the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 
you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.
geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”
”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”
silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.
geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 
”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”
geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”
you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 
it makes you feel oddly flustered.
in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 
suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 
there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.
… but then there’s that gap. 
the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.
waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.
(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)
”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”
geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.
then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”
and with that, your shoulders drop. 
right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam. 
a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”
geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 
”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”
he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 
you’re still a little hesitant. but…
(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)
silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.
pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 
it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.
geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 
just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.
you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 
he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue. 
it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.
so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.
so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 
(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 
if you’re willing, that is.)
”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”
you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.
”… uh, sure!”
geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.
they’re pretty.
”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 
he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.
”why did you come here?”
you blink. 
silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”
geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”
ah. 
that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.
(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)
”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”
a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 
geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.
geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.
you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 
so you accepted.
(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)
what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.
an escape. that’s all it was. 
a way out.
he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 
you want to give him a genuine answer.
”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 
the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 
he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 
for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 
he doesn’t look at you when he answers.
”… i get that.”
there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —
a growing connection. 
(it makes you feel oddly bare.)
all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”
geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.
fleeing from the past. 
it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.
maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 
(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 
control.)
it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.
geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.
everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.
geto inhales a breath.
”by the way —” 
”— have you studied for the exam?”
you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.
then he barks out a laugh.
”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”
”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”
geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.
”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”
”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”
geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”
a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”
now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 
”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”
”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”
all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”
“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”
and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.
”and that makes me an honour student?” 
”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”
geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 
his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 
then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 
you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.
”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 
geto blinks, tilting his head. 
”hm?”
“you and gojo, i mean.”
a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 
what do you see in him? 
he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.
(then again, he’s…)
”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 
and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 
satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 
his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 
is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.
but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 
one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.
it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —
it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 
but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.
geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.
(satoru is a lot of things. 
most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)
geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”
he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 
he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 
”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”
geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”
you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 
”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”
geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”
”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”
a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”
a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.
after a tiny pause, you speak up. 
”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 
you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 
”… he’s not the worst.”
geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”
something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.
and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.
noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”
this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 
a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 
(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)
”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”
”right. of course.”
geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.
standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.
you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 
you think you’d be happy.
so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.
(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)
you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.
”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.
”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”
”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 
for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 
finally, geto takes the leap.
when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”
you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.
after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 
”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 
a brief pause. 
”… if you want to.”
geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.
so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 
geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.
”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 
(what a pretty name.)
suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.
finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.
and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.
”oh — right!”
swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 
”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”
suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 
did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 
maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 
he wants to know more, about you. he really does.
but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 
it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 
the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.
you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.
you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.
on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.
“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”
suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.
it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]
Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.
“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”
Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.
“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.
Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.
“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”
It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.
“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”
“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.
Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.
The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.
He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.
He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.
Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.
“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”
“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”
“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”
“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.
Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.
Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.
“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”
“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”
“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"
Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.
"Where'd... ya get all of this?"
"Hmm... here and there."
Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."
Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."
Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.
"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."
"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."
"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."
Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.
----
"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"
Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.
"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."
Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.
----
Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...
"Hair-dye?"
Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.
"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."
Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"
"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.
"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.
"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.
Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.
Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.
Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?
"Fuck."
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anashins · 1 year ago
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Snow in London
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Pairing: idol!Jaehyun x escort!reader
Genre: fluff, romance, smut
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: Jaehyun has to spend Christmas alone in London and figures that with money, you can buy anything - even company to make him feel less alone.
A/N: Merry Christmas guys - this is my gift for you! Have happy holidays and enjoy! (You might get confused as the story unfolds, but keep reading, it will all make sense, trust me)
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A bottle of wine and an escort.
If two weeks ago someone had told Jaehyun that this was how he was going to spend this year’s Christmas, he would have called that person a fool. Usually, he spent it among his family, friends and members, and everyone knew. Very cozy and comfortable, only with the people closest to him.
Now, Jaehyun himself was the person who looked like a fool. 
It was Christmas Eve and he was sitting in a hotel room on the other side of the world - London, to be exact - far away from all the people dear to him. If only he hadn’t accepted this campaign shoot for this certain luxury brand, he would be home by now, fast asleep after having enjoyed good food with his family.
But fate had other things in store for him when it was announced this morning that all domestic and international flights were canceled due to the heavy snowstorm that would last a couple of days. Jaehyun knew it was his responsibility as a global ambassador, but he had really begged to not accept this job in case something like this would happen. It didn’t usually snow in the UK, so his team had just shrugged his concerns off.
But somehow, he had sensed it, and now he was locked up here with nowhere else to go.
When Jaehyun looked out of the window, he saw white everywhere with not a single vehicle passing by in the streets, and the snow wouldn’t stop falling. He doubted he could take a flight tomorrow or the day after that. Or the day after that even. It was frustrating. 
With a ‘thud’, he let himself fall back onto the bed. At least he was in a high class hotel close to Hyde Park and the staff had invited him to go to the bar with them, but Jaehyun wasn’t in the mood for company now. Well, at least not the company of so many people he didn’t know well enough. 
Why an escort then? 
Jaehyun didn’t want to spend Christmas Eve entirely alone, but he also didn’t want the commitment of having the person around until the next morning with the obligation of getting something physical out of it. He would rather leave it open. Or even worse, he didn’t want to take the flight back with that person and work together again depending on how this night would end. So that was why the staff was ruled out and the hotel employees as well just because they were short handed during the holidays.
Jaehyun just didn’t want to be alone on Christmas Eve and he had the money for it.
The fact that he had indeed never done something like this before was mirrored in how his heart jumped the moment he heard a knock on the door. Luckily, it was just room service bringing the wine he had ordered shortly before, leaving him all alone again with a simple “Merry Christmas”. 
If this Christmas Eve was going to turn merry for Jaehyun, he also didn’t know yet.
The second time he heard a knock, he opened the door even more nervous to find you standing in front of him whose picture he had only briefly seen on the website this morning.
The first thing he noticed about you was how much prettier you were in real life. If he were being honest, you didn’t look like your photos at all as in fact, he found you more beautiful in person and with your bright aura, his nervousness directly dropped a bit. 
Perhaps, he had also not looked at the photos properly, because he wanted to leave it open whether there would be intimate contact at all, and there were not many working today. In the end, he preferred any company over none at all and this was a time where he couldn’t be picky much since he also didn’t want to reduce a person to their outward appearance only and wanted to talk to them too.
So Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised to see you, a pretty, young woman with a nice energy, standing in front of him. 
The second thing he noticed was that you must be cold, because despite your body being covered in a thick black puffer jacket and a pair of black pants that ended in boots, there were remnants of snow everywhere on your body, and since the flakes were melting by room temperature, it looked like you had just run through the rain with your face uncovered also.
For a special day with special services, if Jaehyun were to be blunt, you were dressed and styled quite ordinary - which he didn’t mind at all though since you were only going to stay in the room anyway, he had dropped the fact beforehand! He just couldn’t help but to notice the great difference in the sexy clothings and heavy makeup you had worn on your online pis and the way you were styled now. 
But he’d rather have you warm and cozy than sexy during such a weather, he wasn’t one to pay much attention to outer clothing anyway when most of the time he was wearing lounge pants himself. Actually Jaehyun felt really relieved since he also hadn’t dressed up much for this occasion, wearing his slacks and black shirt at most. 
“Good evening. It’s cold outside, come in.”
Jaehyun opened the door widely, and the third thing he noticed about you was how good you smelled when you walked past him with a light,
“Good evening. Thank you.”
You opened your jacket and Jaehyun, like the gentleman he was, helped you get out of it and hung it up on the wardrobe. When he turned back around, he observed you standing in the room, wrapping your arms around yourself and trembling with your light clothes since your upper body was only covered in a blouse.
“Didn’t you use the shuttle I ordered?” he asked.
“You ordered a shuttle for me? Oh…” You shook your head. “I used the subway and walked all the way from Oxford Circus to here.”
That was why you looked like you had walked through the snowstorm - because you literally did. “I paid for a shuttle service straight to the hotel too, no?” Jaehyun was sure this had been listed on the bill as an extra service for which he had already paid.
“I didn’t get the notice, she didn’t tell me. Only the hotel, floor and room number. There are no cars or services running, so….”
Suddenly, Jaehyun felt bad. He assumed ‘she’ was the operator in the company, something like a manager. “Take off your clothes.” 
“What?”
He was confused that you had turned confused, so you were looking at each other, equally puzzled. “I want to hang them up, so you don’t have to walk around with wet clothes and risk getting a cold. And I want you to take a shower please, to warm yourself up.” 
You blinked a few times, but then replied, “Oh! No, I was only taken aback a bit…”
“Don’t worry.” Jaehyun finally realized what had run through your head. “I’m not like that.”
Even though you only nodded as a reply, he clearly saw how relieved you were, and he started questioning whether you knew what you were actually here for as you appeared a bit insecure about this entire situation. Even though it might not happen right away or at all, the job description was very clear and you weren’t a newbie if he had to believe the website. But Jaehyun shrugged it off as this was a special circumstance and day you might not get into often as well.
Jaehyun then sent you to the bathroom with information on where to find the towels and a bathrobe. He just couldn’t live with the thought of having a woman come over despite the weather and dealing with the consequences.
Rummaging through his luggage, he found a simple white long sleeve and checkered lounge pants that must be way too big for you, but he figured it was better than leaving you in a bathrobe or making you wear your own clothes again before they had fully dried.
When you walked out of the bathroom approximately half an hour later, with semi-dried hair, a bathrobe way too big for you and wearing no makeup at all anymore, the fourth thing Jaehyun noticed about you was that you were an ordinary young woman who he could have also met on the streets or in a club, not someone he paid to spend a few hours with.
And if he were to say it out loud, he wouldn’t want you to misunderstand this. There was no negative connotation with this thought, especially not in regard to your job which services he was making use of himself. It just dawned on him that you were two ordinary people in private, alone on Christmas Eve. 
In the end, when it came down to loneliness, you were both the same.
“You’re so kind to me,” you stated when Jaehyun handed you his clothes.
“I figured someone who has to work on Christmas Eve deserves more kindness than usual.”
“It was okay,” you simply stated and returned to the bathroom while it echoed, “There weren’t too many rude customers today, thank god.”
Jaehyun tilted his head in question over this cryptic statement. Had you just used plural? Oh my, how many customers did you take in a day? Was Christmas Eve really that busy? But then he decided to brush it off. It was none of his business anyway, although it remained in the back of his head, itching him a bit. 
While he walked over to the table where he had also already prepared two glasses and opened the wine, you left the bathroom again, now fully dressed in his clothes.
Jaehyun attempted really hard not to look up and to stare, so he tried to catch a glimpse or two from the corner of his eyes while filling the wine glasses. Under any other circumstances, this would have been an awkward first date, and even though it wasn’t since he paid for your company, pretending to have it be one made it a little bit easier for him, he had to admit.
“Wine?” he offered, and he perceived in the way the look in your eyes changed that you very much welcomed this ice breaker.
“Thank you.”
Alcohol was not only very popular for making your tongue loose, which was why, two glasses of wine for each of you later, your outer clothes had become very loose as well and eventually landed on the floor next to the bed.
“You know,” you murmured in between kisses before Jaehyun slid his tongue along your jaw and only came to a stop with it by the side of your neck, which made you giggle. “I usually don’t do this the first time I meet someone… At least not directly.”
Jaehyun pricked up his ears, but didn’t stop nibbling on the soft skin. “Oh? But then, what do you usually do upon first meeting someone?”
“Usually we go out, to a restaurant or something. And if the vibe is right, one thing leads to another…”
Of course he knew about the fact that high quality escort services didn’t come with short lived physical intimacy only. But there was only so much he was able to do in such a situation, and now he was truly wondering if he should have ordered a room service meal first since he hadn’t even been fixated on physical contact only. It was his first time too, so he still felt a bit lost - and guilty he wasn’t able to offer more.
But he was just so attracted to you which was even more fueled by the bit of alcohol in his system now, and upon the first time he had leaned in to kiss you only moments before this, he knew you felt the same about him. Which was good! After all, he couldn’t imagine getting intimate with someone who had to pretend to like him for his sake and for the money.
“I would have taken you out first too, but during this snowstorm…”
He didn’t come to end his sentence, because you cupped his face and pulled him up, so that you were facing each other again, and you reassured him with your thumb stroking tenderly over his warm cheek, “I don’t mind this time.”
“Good.”
And with that, the last word was spoken just as the last pieces of clothing, your underwear, found their way onto the floor too. 
When Jaehyun was running his fingers through your hair, caressing the sensitive skin on your shoulder with his warm lips, he noticed that, even after showering, you still smelled as good as in the moment when you first had walked through the door. You weren’t wearing any heavy perfume or another scent. This was just you, the natural you. He liked it.
You were sitting on his lap and held onto his strong upper arms for support as he went lower with his lips to the area around your cleavage. Your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip when he bit into your nipple, making you gasp eventually. You felt him smile against your breast, and, almost as if he wanted to apologize, he licked over the spot and then gently placed a kiss on it. 
When he dedicated his mouth to your other mound though, he didn’t use his teeth anymore, but only his tongue. And a few moments later, you let your head roll back as he sucked on nibbled on that spot, causing sensations to run all through your body and your thighs to clasp around him even stronger as though you wanted more of him too. And you actually did, oh how much you did!
But a familiar tone made you both turn your head to the desk simultaneously where your phone was lightening up and vibrating. Who would interrupt you at such a time?
“Just ignore it,” you told him, and he nodded deliberately.
“Very well.”
He grabbed you by your bum and with a gasp, you then were flipped around and fell backwards onto the mattress with a giggle. When your phone had exactly stopped ringing, you couldn't tell in the end, because you long had Jaehyun’s fingers inside of you.
What he thought when he was pleasuring you with his hand, wasn’t only how hot you looked as a writhing and whiny mess under him from whom he couldn’t avert his eyes, but also how fun it was, because there was a smile showing on your face every now and then.
Jaehyun usually never did one night stands, though there had been a handful of ones throughout the years. But these girls, he had talked to before, even in a drunken state only. That he just requested the company of someone and they would actually match so well from the first moment on like with you, he hadn’t expected at all.
His fingers were drenched when he pulled them out of you after noticing how tight you had gotten around him due to your arousal, but he was determined to prolong the act. After all, you had the whole night and he could still sleep on the plane the next day - if they would run again - which he doubted. And a part of him already thought further and made plans to book you instead again.
“Look at me.”
Jaehyun didn’t know why exactly, but he just wanted that. It made him feel warm around his chest. And he could need a little warmth right now when it was so cold and lonely outside. He hoped you did too. 
Your eyes were indeed warm when you looked at each other, so he couldn’t help but lift his free hand and brush some streaks of your hair out of your face. There were worse ways to spend Christmas, he had to admit. Actually, this Christmas had turned really nice at this point.
Jaehyun got pulled out of his thoughts though when he felt the palms of your hands in his nether regions, first stroking along his inner thighs, then wrapping around his full length. No way this was happening. The unexpected sensation made him fold, and he had a really hard time propping his weight up against his elbows to hold himself in position when it all felt so good.
“You like that?” you whispered into his ear with a low voice that turned him on so much.
“Just keep going and I won’t be able to guarantee anything.”
With a brush over his tip, you wiped away his droplet of precum. You then retracted your hand to lead your stained fingers to your mouth and slid them in without breaking eye contact with him. This way you let him know that he nevertheless would end up very lucky this christmas. 
Even your phone vibrating again couldn’t interrupt the mood since you both quietly agreed to ignore it before he reached for a condom on the nightstand to prepare himself. There still were a few hours of Christmas Eve left, a few hours where you could still try out stuff. Right now, you both just needed to get it off.
Jaehyun wondered if there was something you absolutely wouldn’t do or liked to do, but there was no room to think about it much anyway when you were lying under him, completely naked, a light sheen of sweat covering most parts of your body, and your facial expression welcoming him with your lips slightly parted. 
Could he imagine a better gift for his situation? Absolutely not.
He parted your thighs with his knees when he sat in front of you and guided himself in. It was easy with almost no strength required, that was how wet he had already gotten you through his fingerwork. Grabbing your thighs to your left and right, Jaehyun slid you along the mattress closer to him so that you were eventually fully sheathed inside and stuck skin on skin.
You spread out your hands when he started to pull out, then pushed in again, and with every time, he added a little more force. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling as your fingers entangled with the sheet to your left and right, and you suddenly weren’t mad at your parents anymore for leaving you alone on Christmas, so that you had decided to still work and practically spend it with a stranger. You could imagine having a worse celebration than this one right here. 
It had been quite a while since you last had sex, and you weren’t sure it had ever been this good or if it were only the circumstances and you were just so into each other - which was so rare! But in the end, it didn’t really matter. If the first blind encounter was already this good, there for sure would be a second one!
You felt your climax nearing the moment he picked up his speed, and although you were able to cum like this, you still appreciated that he changed the position from kneeling in front of you to lying on top of you. It felt good to wrap your legs around his middle, and feel him, every stroke, no matter how hard or long, even more intense.
He was breathing into your ear, and at one point even kissed your earlobe, then your cheek. It was intimate and cute at the same time, and he eventually hovered over you with his face, so you spread out your arms to welcome him with a kiss on your mouth, and then hugged him close to your body.
His breathing turned irregular and it wasn’t in sync with his thrusts anymore, that was how you could foretell that at any second, he would cum. With your fingers grabbing into his hair, partly gently, partly determined, you signalized him that it was alright to let go, and that you would follow too.
As though he had been holding in until you gave such kind of approval, he came the moment he slid back inside you with a low groan right beside your ear. You witnessed his breathing turning regular and slower and him gaining back full control of his body, because he did not directly pull out of you after he was done.
Instead, he continued moving for as long as he was still able to and eventually got you off with his hands so that you shook in his arms and he was now the one having to hold you through your climax.
“Best Christmas Eve ever,” you eventually breathed when he let go of you and rolled to one side of the now messy bed. “That was a nice gift.”
“Right back at you,” Jaehyun said.
With a look at you, he observed how you tried to grab the blanket to wrap it around your naked body to keep yourself warm. He knew a better method though. 
Jaehyun moved to your side of the bed and laid down, but making sure to have closed his arms around you before to pull you down with him right onto his chest. For a moment, he was worried that it was too much and you would free yourself again. But as he felt your muscles relaxing and you eventually put an arm around him too, he was very much relieved.
“Why are you spending Christmas alone?” you eventually asked him after a few moments of silence. “She didn’t tell me.”
Ah, so details truly weren’t passed on upon request. “My flight back home got canceled due to the snowstorm, but I didn’t want to be all alone.” Jaehyun didn’t know whether he could ask this question back, but he did nonetheless. He figured if you didn’t want to or weren’t allowed to share private info, you would tell him immediately.
“Oh, you wanted to spend it among your family too but they live abroad?” He wanted to explain that he lived abroad too, but your answer caught his attention more, “My parents suddenly decided they would rather spend two weeks on a cruise in the Caribbean sea instead of celebrating with me, so I was alone too.” 
“I understand that.” If he would have been left alone on Christmas, since it was a holiday spent among the family in the UK, he would have rather worked too, Jaehyun thought to himself. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Yeah, that’s why.”
It was cold outside, but their bodies and hearts were warm, not only because of them sharing their physical warmth, but mostly because they were not alone anymore. 
So it was an unspoken agreement that their encounter wouldn’t end here. Or at night. Probably only the next morning. And even then, you both wondered if it actually would when it felt this good.
“Should I order room service?” Jaehyun asked instead.
You nodded with excitement. “Actually, I’m quite hungry.”
“Yeah, me too.” He laughed and stretched out his arm to reach for the phone, but you both heard a knock on the door before he could call anyone.
“Did you already order something before?” you asked out of curiosity, but Jaehyun shook his head. 
“Maybe someone from my team?”
You frowned. “Team…?”
But Jaehyun didn’t see it as he had already jumped out of bed to throw on some light clothes so that it wouldn’t get that embarrassing to open the door to one of the staff.
Standing in front of him was no familiar staff at all though.
“Good evening, here I am.”
Jaehyun was flabbergasted. Had it been a glass of wine too much? Because in front of him stood the woman whose exact pictures he had seen online this morning, he now remembered clearly. Not only was she wearing the exact same clothes, but also the same heavy makeup. No doubt, he wasn’t dreaming or imagining.
“I’m sorry for the delay,” she continued. “The shuttle you ordered couldn’t get through, I was waiting for so long. I ordered a taxi from Oxford Circus instead and that eventually got stuck. I had to walk the rest of the way, but now I’m here… What is it? Don’t you want to invite me in?”
“Pardon me… what?!”
On the other side of the room, you had finally picked up the phone call from your friend who had just called for the third time.
“Hey! You can’t imagi-... What do you mean? How can he still be waiting when I am currently with him? Yes, the guy you set me up on a blind date with, he’s here,” you defended yourself over the line, then paused. “What do you mean? I am in the room on the fifth floor, the exact room you told me.”
You looked over to the man who had just closed the door again and your eyes locked with undefinable gazes. 
“This is the fourth floor.”
Then, you both asked the other as realization dawned at the same time,
“Who are you?”
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diamonddaze01 · 1 month ago
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HEYYY. I read your off the record jeonghan's fic and OH MY GOD. IT WAS SOOOOOOOO AMAZING AND GOOD. CHEF'S KISS MWAH
I was wondering if you can do jeonghan 75 drabble. I would really really appreciate it. thank you and love you mwah
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off the record
pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.3k prompt: "guess who's going to be a father!" au: f1 au | warnings: mentions of pregnancy a/n: hello hello nari your asks always make me smile <3 // this is a continuation of [on the record] bc ferrari!jeonghan lives in my head rent free (highly recommend you read on the record first for some context)
The atmosphere at the Australian Grand Prix was electric, the roar of the crowd still echoing as the last of the race cars pulled into the pit lane. Jeonghan had just secured yet another win, and the sea of Ferrari red flooded every corner of the paddock. The team was in chaos—cheers and hugs, champagne spraying everywhere, mechanics shaking with excitement—but Jeonghan’s gaze was fixed on something else.
You stood just outside the frenzy, leaning casually against the barrier, your camera poised as you snapped a few final shots. You’d been here before, a part of this circus. But today, you had a story of your own to deal with, one that Jeonghan was certain would find its way to his attention.
Jeonghan peeled off his helmet and flashed a grin at the crew as they crowded around him. But his eyes were still searching for you.
A few weeks ago, you'd written something that had the entire paddock talking. 
"Guess Who’s Going to be a Father!" 
Yoon Jeonghan, Ferrari’s golden boy, had been linked to a famous model, Sienna Hartley, the stunning up-and-coming fashion icon known for her work with luxury brands. A few months ago, the paparazzi had caught the two of them together at a private event. The photos were casual enough—Jeonghan with his arm around her waist, a smile that seemed too comfortable—but it was the following week’s headlines that sent the media into a frenzy.
The shots of Sienna taken at an upscale café, her baby bump unmistakable under a form-fitting dress, had people running wild with speculation. Was Jeonghan going to be a father? Had he been keeping a secret relationship? The rumors only grew when neither Jeonghan nor Sienna commented on the speculation, leaving fans and gossip columns to fill in the blanks.
The rumblings were only growing louder, and of course, you had jumped into the fray, teasing the possibility of Jeonghan becoming a father. The headline had been coy but suggested a connection between the two, leaving just enough room for interpretation. And now, here he was, stepping out of the car, knowing exactly who was responsible for the chaos.
As he walked toward you, the crowd parted around him, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. He could practically feel the mischievous energy radiating from you, even from a distance. The subtle smirk tugging at your lips was all the warning he needed.
Jeonghan approached with slow, deliberate steps, his face a mixture of amusement and challenge. "So we write fake articles now, do we, sweetheart?" he called, his voice carrying across the pit lane.
You didn’t even flinch. With a calm, collected posture, you raised an eyebrow, offering him a half-smile as you lowered your camera. "Just reporting what people are saying," you replied smoothly, voice teasing. "You know, about you possibly becoming a father this year."
"People are saying that?" Jeonghan asked, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. He stepped closer, clearly enjoying the tension building between you two. "Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with the gossip columnists, huh? Could’ve sworn the last time I checked, we were talking about race wins, not baby bumps."
You shrugged, not missing a beat. "Well, Jeonghan, it’s not my fault your personal life keeps getting more interesting than your driving. You really should be more careful with who you’re seen with."
His eyes darkened playfully. "Careful? You think I care about rumors?" he quipped, leaning in just a little bit closer, his voice dropping to a lower, more flirtatious tone. "But if you wanted to get my attention, sweetheart, there are far better ways than a headline about some fake baby."
You tilted your head, smiling in that way that always left him unsure whether you were teasing or challenging him. "Who says I want your attention?" you replied with a hint of challenge, crossing your arms as if daring him to press further.
Jeonghan’s smile only widened. "You’ve got my attention now, don't you?" he teased, his fingers brushing against the barrier you were leaning on, his proximity making it hard to ignore the way the air between you two shifted.
You glanced up at him, keeping your expression casual, but the spark in your eyes was undeniable. "Oh, I don’t know," you said nonchalantly, "maybe I’m just here to enjoy the view of a guy in red doing what he does best – reckless maneuvers that still somehow let him win, y’know?" You paused, letting that sink in. "Though if you really wanted to shut down those rumors, maybe you should take a different approach."
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
You gave him a sly smile. "I don’t know. Maybe just come out and say you’re not the father. Or, you know, get more specific about who you’re spending time with. The fans love a good love story, after all."
The way his expression shifted made it clear that he wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to take that turn. His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration appearing under the surface, but it was quickly replaced with his signature smirk. "Sweetheart, you sure talk a big game for someone who's so quiet when it counts."
You leaned in just a little, enough for your words to linger in the air between you. "I could say the same about you," you shot back, eyes glinting with mischief.
Jeonghan paused, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, but you had him on edge in a way that he didn’t expect. "Listen," he said, his tone dipping lower, his voice now laced with more than just flirtation. "There's only one girl in the paddock I have eyes for, and it sure as hell isn’t Sienna Hartley."
The tension between you two was palpable, a spark igniting in your chest at his words. You met his gaze head-on, not backing down. "And who says I’m interested in your attention, Jeonghan?" you shot back, smirking. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm under pressure."
He leaned in a little more, his breath coming out a little sharper. "You really think you can get under my skin with a headline like that?" he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I’m not the one with something to prove, sweetheart."
You could feel his breath on your skin, but instead of feeling intimidated, a thrill ran through you. "Then why do you look like you’re about to lose that smug grin?" you teased, lifting your chin just slightly, making sure the challenge was clear in your words.
Jeonghan grinned, his teeth flashing. "Oh, I’m not losing anything," he said, the playful tone returning. "But if you really want to get my attention, there are better ways than headlines."
You smirked, standing your ground. "Oh? Well, if you want to do something better with your mouth than argue with me, you know where to find me." You shot him a quick wink and began to turn away.
Jeonghan's eyes widened for a moment as he processed your words, and for the briefest second, he was completely thrown off. His confident swagger faltered, and it was then that you realized: you’d left him flustered.
You glanced back over your shoulder with a smug grin. "But I’ll be honest, Jeonghan," you called out, "I’d much rather see you focus on keeping your title than keeping up with rumors."
And with that, you turned and walked off, leaving Jeonghan standing there, still processing your bold departure. His pulse was racing, but not because of the race. This time, it was because of you—your words, your attitude, and the way you had him on edge in a way no one else could.
"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, but the smile on his face betrayed how much he appreciated the challenge. “I should’ve asked her to dinner.”
But knowing you, this was far from over. And next time? He might just have something to say about it.
send me an ask for my drabble game!
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anantaru · 1 year ago
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DAY 12 — COCKWARMING
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — heizou, alhaitham, baizhu
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, cockwarming, tit play, teasing you to the brim like staaaaaahp, a sprinkle of brat taming because why not, mean genshin boys
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𖧡 — HEIZOU
"ah- i could get used to this."
and needless to say, it feels good, largely to heizou though— especially when he shadows his skilled fingers over your bare chest because he knows it'll drive you insane, his hand slowly settling down on top of your breasts, squeezing and massaging the mounds before groping your tits, together with his cock slipping past the solidness of your slit— throbbing, pressing and stretching inside.
you cling to him for your dear life, the fulfillment of his erection jammed within the bounds of you swelling pussy, candidly battering your cunt when you attempt to press down on his hips, or perhaps move for that matter, instead whimpering sweetly as heizou stills your hips with a solid arm whilst the other pinches your aroused nipple and tugs on it ever so slightly.
you pout out deliberately, yearning for him so terribly you cannot help yourself but moan into his neck, "heizou.." you say, stumbling over your words, "don't tease me now.. please." and it's not necessarily something your boyfriend would consider teasing— especially since in his opinion, you should be utterly aware on how his real taunting looked like.
in the span of no time, it had gotten to the point where it became a game between you both, one which he would most likely end up winning the moment he shushes your cute sniffles with a kiss, idly shuffling in his seat before unintentionally (it was very much intentional) moving his cock and thrusting up hard against one cloying, pressing, spot.
"fuck— well, you faced worse before, haven't you?" his words, although dripping of artificial consideration, vibrate all the way from your pouty lips, to your sensitive nipples being played with, to your wet messy core slicking up his buried shaft, shortly gushing around it so much that a white, thick ring of whites took shape around the base of his cock— he’s still entirely buried in you, with that single thrust hitting you like a sudden hot fever dashing on top of your shoulders.
heizou continues to keep you pressed against his cock, one hand long since branding the flesh of your juddering hips— and it's almost bruising to you, long fingers plunging into the skin hard enough to make you wince out and beg again, only to be met with a cocked up brow, a wet smirk and an even deeper throb of his erection.
your quivering body was exceedingly past recovering by now and you helplessly swallow down a bubbling sob from your throat when he grinds inside you again, yet with barely any strength aiding the move— the stiffened veins of his erection melting with your walls that the combination of those very sensations heizou brought forth focused on intermittently inching you into madness.
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𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
your thighs clamp against each side of alhaitham's hips while one arm freely closes around your waist, the last thing he'd want is for you to move and disturb his peace— whilst the other, well, was occupied in holding a book he was currently reading, adventurous eyes deciphering each and every little letter printed on top, eagerly memorizing and pondering about a much deeper, more crucial interpretation behind the portrayed story.
yet you're taking him just like he needed you to, raw and hard, while he barely gifts you any attention. ugh, some sort of punishment coming from the scribe? might be, but you knew alhaitham very well and that his mind simply wasn't wired that way, instead he probably thought that it would cost him far less effort to put two into one, pleasure and knowledge, as he referred to it, stitched together with both sides unable to slip past his grip.
it's mostly exhausting around your legs, specifically the insides of your thighs that began to stiffen and ache, forcing you to taste subtle early signs of lightheadedness from your desperate attempts to not move nor clench down on him so strongly.
another breathy gasp, and you let him know that you're obviously struggling with his cock being way too big and heavy to remain in that way without moving at the very least— a warm puddle of your arousal exuding from your hole and divulging at the foundation of his shaft, sending droplets of the mixture on the office floor.
"please, oh, please." you whine, suddenly flustered when you realize you just blurted those frenzied pleas out loud, establishing them right against the shell of his ears, his headphones since long disposed of and placed on the table next to you— whilst beyond questioning, besides the fact that alhaitham was wholly absorbed into the fantasy novel in his hand, he'd never pass up on an opportunity to listen to your short-lived whines, the cute weeps or the loud thuds of your heart beat reverberating against his chest.
"already?" he speaks softly before you meet his eyes, surprisingly enough his pupils were blown wide and you cannot even fathom this level of discipline when it probably hurt him too to not move at least an inch up and down your fluttering hole. "i barely started this chapter."
"then read faster!" you interrupt him, no, practically snap at him, nervously licking your lips as your hands run over his cheeks to make him kiss you, his raw erection throbbing at the bold move as he for once redirects his entire attention from that pestering, bothersome, annoying book in his hand that you would love to just dispose of entirely.
"okay, okay," the man shuffles around, "you better make it worth my time then." and he teases you, always, then drinks up a trembling moan that spumes up on your mouth as his quick tongue darts out to run around your lips and wet them with his saliva, your throat aching in excitement for what's about to come. 
alhaitham bites back a groan when you swiftly mould your walls over his cock, needful and slobbering your arousal once more— you're so soft there, ah, it never fails to amaze him. but to get himself on top of things again, most importantly to not lose himself in you, he traces your back up and down with his palm before teasingly rutting into your wet sex, it's barely perceivable to you and maybe that's what would ultimately tip you over the edge if alhaitham does not stop those cruel tactics.
although, pondering over his honesty, it's quite cute when you're frustrated and bitter because of a situation he put you in, or how much harder it was to stay disciplined in focusing on his book when a coat of a heavenly expression litters across your bristling cheeks— it just feels so dreamy to be inside you.
alhaitham might just look past the little shifts of your body that you sneaked between pauses, despite them offering you the tiniest teases and moments of friction on your overflowing hole, and yes, your leg muscles were screaming for some sort of pleasure, regardless keeping yourself still and happy to take his perfectly shaped length.
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𖧡 — BAIZHU
you brace yourself, without further questioning settling on baizhu's lap before lining your slit up with his leaking cock— his pre like a translucent film sheer on top of the rosy tip.
and for the most part, this scenario appeared to be quite familiar to you— at the end of the day, your boyfriend could never be entirely satisfied when you ride him for hours, he needs it without pause. it warms his heart when you’re on top— as if you were somehow claiming him, his groans exuberant with lust, a velvet tune on your ears so exciting as you watch how he succumbs to the touch of being engulfed by a warm, soft cunt.
this time, although, something didn't align with previous scenarios— because the second you had pushed him in, touched up his shaft with your wetness, baizhu instantly places both hands on your moving hips, breathily laughing in both bliss and an ulterior emotion as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, your pretty noises almost making him decide against doing this right now.
of course, you try to lift your hips so you could bounce up and down, his cockhead snugly enclosed and piercing your swelling flesh as he spread you apart by his girth, your body desperately clinging against his chest and it's only then, when you realize what's going on, your hot, breathless moans garnering his gentle attention.
"uh?" you tilt your head to the side, then wince when his cock reaches impossibly deep and nudges over your sensitivity, the infused tingles of that singular drag holding you captive, intimately trapped within his arms, "ah— is something wrong?"
"no, nothing." baizhu coos, mouthing a wet spot over your jawline before slotting his lips over your own. you fall into a kind of daze when he keeps you strong against his thudding cock, your hands on his shoulders when you press your nails into the clothed skin, breathing deep, slow, at least trying but your attempts immediately fall flat when he offers your body some teases of friction.
"is something supposed to be wrong?" you're sweating at his words, your leg muscles screaming when you gaze at him through confused, widened eyes, "i- i'm not sure," you babble, the shivers in your lower area doing everything in their limited power to keep the pleasure going for as long as possible, anything to make you feel at least something but baizhu wouldn't let you.
"think harder, darling." he grins, letting the exposed warmth of your cunt wrap around his cock as he lifts you up, "is this better?" no, of course not, you panic, this was even worse and you whine at the lost fullness, leaning against him to wrap your arms around his neck, his cock head still nudging at your slit.
"it's not, it's not, it's not.." you can hardly move, and baizhu swallows down your mewls with a lick into your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip before smirking when he feels how you're rolling your hips, or at least, try— despite that, you're being met with strong resistance again, wondering how someone such as baizhu, who was perceived as a frail man, suddenly claimed such sturdy force in his arms.
"easy now.." he whispers cruelly, and you can practically taste his amusement on your tongue.
"maybe then "i'll move."
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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temis-de-leon · 3 months ago
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Male!MC as the future king of the Devildom
Characters: Diavolo x male!MC (established relationship) with stellar cameos from Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Asmo and Barbatos
Main Masterlist
@beawesome04: Hello! I was wondering if I could request a one-shot of Diavolo reacting to being in another world where he meets the Male! Reader as the Future King of Devildom! Only that instead of the reader being the kind-hearted transfer student (Basically how MC acts in game), this Reader is a lot more serious and isolated. Hope this is good!
A/N: cannot believe that the roulette worked
.
It wasn’t the first time his eagerness had gotten the best of him, but to be fair, what else was he supposed to do when the circumstances of his life forced him to be so lonely and bored? With Barbatos and Lucifer always reminding him to do his work every hour of the day, who was he to ignore such tempting opportunities?
Plus, it wasn’t like he went searching for the mirror.
He had been merely strolling around the castle, hiding from his butler, when an old wooden door closed with a thud and left him trapped in a dusty room. Everything there had aged badly in abandonment except the mirror. It was a heavily magically charged object and its golden frame shined in the dark, engraved with creatures and symbols from the three realms that merged at the top. One of the corners showed a dragon curled around a lamb, both resting in a peaceful embrace, and he couldn’t help but think about you.
Sadly, sneaking around and having secret dates left you with an obscene amount of schoolwork, just like him, and although you always said you were aware of the consequences, he knew he should be more responsible. His burdens were too heavy to share and the last thing he wanted to do was selfishly take the time you could use for leisure.
Something changed in front of him and he finally realised that the mirror hadn’t shown any reflection until then, but it wasn’t entirely accurate; his eyes weren’t golden anymore, instead a light shade of brown, and he was wearing the generic RAD uniform. However, when he looked down, it was still red.
Diavolo hummed, too intrigued to turn around and continue his little escapade. In the blink of an eye, he switched to his demon form and although the mirror followed his movements, it didn’t change his appearance.
He turned back and stared again.
He looked human.
And just like that, as if his revelation triggered the powers of the mirror, a wave softly covered the surface of the glass and turned his reflection into a blur. A light showed in the middle while the room remained in the dark. Diavolo could only look, mouth agape and eyes open wide, as the brightness in front of him grew and slowly disintegrated the glass, shards turning to ashes before falling to the ground.
Then, in the span of just a second, the light engulfed him and he disappeared.
.
.
Powerful magic sucked him out of the room, pulling him through a suffocating white tunnel until he fell backwards on something soft, which, judging by the duvet and the pillows, was a bed.
Your bed, if he remembered correctly. How would he be wrong, anyway? It was the most recognisable room he’d ever seen. The bedding was pink and there was a tree above him; it was unmistakable.
The change of scenery brought a wide smile to his face and he wasted no time in getting up to search for you, but he was soon met with disappointment.
While it was true that you were the one who did most of the visits and he only went to the House of Lamentation on celebrations or for meetings with Lucifer, he had seen your room enough to know this wasn’t your room.
Just like his brand-new brown eyes or his black uniform, there was something familiar about his surroundings that slightly unnerved him, like the pictures on the walls. His face was plastered on all of them, mainly with the brothers, but there were some with the angels, Solomon, Barbatos and you as well. Not as many as he’d like, though, and while you looked happy in the pictures, your smile wasn’t as big as usual.
And your eyes had also changed, hadn’t they? Were your canine teeth sharper, too?
“Dia!” sang a voice from the other side of the door, making him jerk in surprise. “Are you coming out, hon’? You’re supposed to be at the castle in twenty minutes; let me see what you’re wearing!”
He stood there, unable to say anything coherent while frantically looking around for clues. There were clothes his size scattered around the room and his DDD, if that was even still its name, was charging on the table.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Asmo talked again.
“Me? Y- Yes, I am!”
“Then come out, silly, I want to see you”
“Yeah, I figured” he whispered to himself.
He was wearing the black uniform, but it was wrinkled and the shirt had partially come out of his pants. “The other him” had probably been napping before changing places. Was he in that dusty old room in the castle, then? Was he about to get lectured by Barbatos once he was caught sneaking around? His trusted butler would probably guess the unusualness of the situation, however.
Though Barbatos would probably lose his mind once he realised the prince was lost in an unknown location.
Diavolo was sure everything would be okay.
Smiling in uncontained excitement, he hurried to the table, looked at the screen and let his heart hammer against his chest as he read the messages; Lord MC was asking him whether he wanted to stay for dinner or not and he’d be crazy if he ever rejected that offer, especially in the strange circumstances he was living.
“Hey, Diavolo! Check this out!”
“Mammon…!”
The cheery demon opened the door with a slam, entering without any care in the world while flaunting a shiny black card. Asmo trailed after him with a frown on his face, but his brother wasn’t paying him or his protests any attention.
“I got Goldie back, so you better get ready to leave the house and go to the casino. I didn’t work hard to earn this money for nothing!”
Diavolo smiled back at his grin but didn’t say anything and watched instead as Asmo laughed in incredulity and mockery. Soon the room was filled with jabs and well-thought insults while both brothers went at each other’s throats, and before anyone could do anything too drastic, Satan appeared at the door and rolled his eyes at the spectacle.
“You want us to believe that you earned this money legally and honestly?”
“Why would you say it like that? You make me look like a thief!”
“That’s what you are, you useless scumbag!”
The argument didn’t show signs of dying any time soon so, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be at the Demon Lord’s castle in just a few minutes, Diavolo silently grabbed his phone and tip-toed towards Satan, who was waiting for him with a hopeless expression.
“So many years have passed and they still manage to embarrass me…” he lamented with a frown before swiftly closing the door and inviting Diavolo to walk beside him. “I thought you had plans with MC, aren’t you running a bit late?”
A wave of excitement flooded his veins at the mention of your name, but he forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t you who he had plans with, after all; it was another version of you that had every right to sit on his throne and bear what was otherwise his title. Did you have a demon form too? Were your duties as demanding as his? Were you as eager to run away from work as him? There was only one way to find out.
“I fell asleep” he ended up answering with no intention to continue. If Satan had expected a longer explanation he said nothing, but his silence was telling enough.
The Avatar of Wrath had stayed quiet because he wasn’t surprised. This Diavolo, the human version who was so similar yet different to the demon prince, overslept and wore a wrinkly uniform. He lived with the brothers and had no responsibilities other than being a good human world representative and surviving every adversity that was thrown his way.
How exciting!
They were at the main entrance before he could realise it and if he thought his day couldn’t get any better, he was very wildly wrong.
“Diavolo!” called a voice from the top of the stairs. “Where in Lord MC’s name is Mammon? Have you seen him?”
“Of course!” he answered with uncontained glee and Satan stared at him with raised eyebrows.
Although not as exhausted as his other version, Lucifer looked the same. He was even grumpy and everything! A deep frown on his face as he gracefully walked down the stairs, all the while mumbling insults and curses against the second born.
“So? Where is he? And don’t bother hiding and defending him; you know there will be consequences for you as well if you help him”
Diavolo had to bite down a giggle. There he was, his best friend, looking at him with darkness in his eyes, a mean smile and arms crossed over his chest. His words undoubtedly carried a real threat, but Diavolo was so thrilled about his adventure that he simply could not take him seriously.
“You will find him in no time, I’m sure” he laughed, leaving the eldest brother unimpressed and the younger amused. “I’m in a hurry, though. Lord MC is waiting for me”
That seemed to do the trick. Lucifer’s eyes opened wide in shock and one of his hands clutched his chest while the other hastily pushed Diavolo towards the door.
“Well, don’t keep him waiting then” he said in a scolding tone. However, once they were finally out of the house, his voice turned lower and softer. “See if you can distract him a little bit. Barbatos has been trying to get him out of his office, but you know how he is; if our friendship was closer, I would’ve tried myself, but I think that’s a job for you”
He tried not to stare in confusion, but the words had left him speechless. So far, the alternate universe shown by the mirror had proven to be one where Diavolo was in your place and you in his, so Lucifer’s plead was nonsensical in his head.
He would never barricade himself in his office for more than necessary, let alone turn down Barbatos’s advice to rest, so why did you? It didn’t make sense to see you, a human so cheerful and kind, as someone so closed and isolated; but seeing you doing so in a universe where you were supposed to fill his shoes was way, way more perplexing.
“Is everything alright, Diavolo?”
“Are you feeling okay?” asked Satan leaning over his brother’s shoulder.
They were both looking at him with worry and, thankfully, no suspicion. However, if he didn’t try to act more casually, someone would eventually figure out that he wasn’t the Diavolo they loved.
He knew very well how his version of the brothers, and everyone else for that matter, would act in a scenario where your safety was in question. He was in no hurry to discover if these alternate versions would react the same way.
“I’m fine” he said quickly, trying to downplay his behaviour. “I just didn’t sleep very well, that’s all”
That appeared to be enough for the moment.
Satan smiled and waved goodbye, wishing him a nice evening before entering the house. Lucifer crossed his arms again before bidding farewell.
“Please, do have a good time”
Then his eyes went back to the darkness.
“Rest assured, however, if I don’t find Mammon, there will be a proper punishment waiting for you upon your return”
And that time, he did feel chills up his spine.
.
.
His excitement had run down by the time he finally arrived at the castle.
While the city’s skeleton remained the same, the ambience reflected a side of the Devildom that he had never known. His kingdom was alive, full of colours even in eternal night and perpetually changing alongside those who populated it. This land, however, was muter; more elegant than casual. Every demon wore their true forms and spoke in mellow, cautious voices, blending in the dark and the breeze and moving as fast as he blinked.
It wasn’t dark or gloomy, as he saw various open stores and restaurants at full capacity, but it was certainly tamer… Conservative was the word.
Just like his Devildom showed the way he ruled as the future king, its alternate version was an obvious example of your leadership.
An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. Just how different were you?
He took out his phone, fingers just a tad uncoordinated due to nerves, and sighed when he saw no messages from you. You must have been used to his human version’s tardiness. There were, however, at least a dozen messages from Asmo; a mix of crying stickers and pleads that didn’t help ease his mind. He decided to read only the most recent ones.
Did you seriously leave the house wearing your wrinkly uniform?? I could’ve helped you choose something better! At least you’re already dating and you don’t have to impress him… But next time I’m making you even more beautiful! Also, insist on the foam party!! Lucifer will kill us if we do it at the HOL, but we need MC’s permission to use The Fall! And you know how he is.
And then more crying stickers.
Did he know how you were, though?
His mind went blank when the castle’s door appeared in his line of sight. There was no time to back down and he didn’t want to do it either, but would he be able to if he ever wanted to return?
Closing his eyes as he raised his hand to knock on the door, Diavolo searched for that deep root in his chest that connected every piece of his body and soul. It felt crimson and black, like coagulated blood, but also white and golden; hope for his future and his crown. While settled at the deepest end of his heart, its energy moved with tendrils; you would compare them to axons whenever he tried to explain it to you.
He searched and searched and bile went up his throat when he found nothing. His breath quickened and cold sweat covered his skin the moment he couldn’t transform into his demon form; the fear hitting him so forcefully that he felt himself grow lightheaded, falling forward against the door with his whole body.
It opened almost instantly and someone extremely familiar wasted no time in helping him stand.
“Diavolo! Are you okay?”
“I feel awful…”
The words left him before he even thought about them, but he guessed that was Barbatos’s effect on him, no matter the universe.
Gloved hands immediately straightened him, gently pushing him inside before closing the door and taking him to the kitchen, where he was seated and promptly served a warm cup of tea.
He looked up with a raised brow, showing his amazement like an open book, and received a soft laugh in return. The butler was worried about him, but Diavolo could tell he was trying to remain as calm as possible, probably not to freak him out even further.
“We thought you’d arrive sooner, so I prepared it a little while ago, but don’t worry, Lucifer warned me you were distracted by the brothers back at the House of Lamentation. And also that you were feeling a bit under the weather. Is that true? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Diavolo realised in that instant that acting casual would be an impossible feat. If looking at Barbatos was unnerving enough, then spending time with you would likely make his brain stop functioning. You were, based on what he had seen and heard so far, a solemn prince of a lonely nature, which was already too different from what he knew.
Being a magicless human with no definitive allies, he hoped the other version of you would be as wise and understanding as the boyfriend he was happily dating, but chances of survival based on speculation and trust were very slim.
Thankfully, he had the advantage of dating you in both universes. The thought alone warmed his entire body and he had to cover his mouth with a hand to hide his lovesick grin.
“I’m honoured, Barbatos” he said, trying to justify his abrupt giddiness. “Don’t worry about me, please, I’m just tired… And impatient to see MC as well”
There was a beat of silence before the demon chuckled with understanding, seemingly convinced by his answer, but Diavolo knew enough about fake smiles and his butler’s mannerisms to notice the way his green eyes had quickly scanned him from head to toe during that short second. The mixture of the blissfulness that dating you in both universes brought and the fear of being studied by a strange version of his friend was making his heart go crazy.
He asked himself, with unfamiliar horror, if the irregular flutter of his heart was audible beyond the confinements of his chest.
Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and a flow of fresh air entered the space.
“Diavolo, you’re finally here”
“My Lord”
Barbatos bowed immediately, an arm over his chest and another behind his back. You tilted your head in acknowledgement before observing your surroundings with contained curiosity, surely searching for what was taking so long. Finally, after finding nothing, you turned around and gave Diavolo a small smile.
He could barely return the gesture in time.
“I was about to go search for you, my Lord” said the butler with a polite expression, briefly looking at Diavolo before centring all of his attention on you. “It seems you were faster; I apologize”
“You were hosting my guest of honour, no need to apologize”
“Allow me to do so, sir”
“Very well, then”
The reflection of a mirror was not oneself. It was an image in reverse, only similar to reality on the surface.
You were there, but it wasn’t you.
There was no shine on your eyes, nor smile wrinkles on your cheeks. The red uniform looked unnatural on your body, more like a costume than a formal attire, and the way you stood in the middle of the room made him frown in discomfort. You looked regal and imposing, but not like the man he loved.
“Are you okay, Dia?”
Barbatos hummed in amusement before he could answer and you looked at him with a questioning glance.
“That seems to be the question of the day, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean…?”
“I slept awfully” he hurried an answer, but that proved to be worse.
The knowing glint in Barbatos’s stare felt like a sentence, which caught your attention and raised your suspicion. There was an unspoken conversation between you and your butler and before Diavolo had time to say anything else, you looked at him with both arms behind your back and spoke in a non-committal tone.
“Would you please wait outside? It will only take a moment”
He nodded and forced himself to get up from his seat. His body felt like an unoiled engine, joints cracking uncomfortably and making him cringe, but that wasn’t what was making him wince. It was the sensation of having no magic and no support in case anything went bad, of the idea of being perceived as an impostor whose intentions were still unknown.
The silence followed him as he left the kitchen and the last thing he saw before closing the door was the cup of tea he hadn’t touched, still full and no longer warm.
Could he find the dusty room where the mirror was located? He’d probably be able to retrace his steps from his office, but he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to reach the office without being caught first. One of the servants would eventually see him and report to Barbatos and then it would only be a matter of time before his fate was sealed.
But what other option did he have? Convince you that he meant no harm and that his other version was safe? He didn’t even know if he was safe! For all he knew, the human Diavolo could be experimenting with his new powers and driving Barbatos and Lucifer mad! The other six brothers were probably having a field day, which just made everything worse.
He supposed the best he could do was lay low and get on your good graces, although that might be difficult if he was impersonating your boyfriend.
Quite the adventure, indeed.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he heard the hinges again and saw you emerge from the kitchen. Your calm demeanour did nothing to ease his nerves, but he still placed himself beside you when you started to walk away.  
He tried to ignore Barbatos’s presence following far behind them.
Of course, he had no such luck.
.
.
Somehow, being alone with you didn’t make him as apprehensive as the others had eventually made him feel. Sure, the silence between you was uncomfortable and tense as a string, but at least he could distract himself by observing the flowers in the path and the nocturnal birds flying over your heads.
Just like the structure of the city, the flora and fauna of the Devildom remained the same in both universes, so being surrounded by the familiarity of something so simple was probably what was helping him stay grounded and keeping him from spiralling.
You took him for a stroll through the gardens, distractedly caressing the leaves and the petals as you passed and scratching the surface of the water when you went around the fountains. Not a single word was said, yet your tranquillity didn’t quiver. Perhaps, as non-social as you were as a prince, the silence was your source of comfort.
A long half an hour passed until you finally decided it was time to sit down and have a talk, although it might have been shorter; not once did Diavolo dare to grab his phone and check the time.
The wooden bench was wide enough to sit comfortably without being glued to each other, but he still leaned against the armrest and tried his hardest to ignore the way the ornate iron dug into his skin. You seemed to pay no mind, quietly admiring the horizon while the moon lighted your face and the breeze moved your hair. Diavolo couldn’t help but stare in wonder, wishing his beloved boyfriend was there instead. His fantasy was shattered, however, when you turned to look at him with a hardened gaze.
“Who are you?”
The straightforwardness of the question caught him off guard. He expected you to dance around the topic, maybe even toy with him a little bit, but it looked like you didn’t want to waste any time on the subject.
He didn’t either, not anymore. He longed for the comfort of your presence and the warmth of his magic; everything that was part of him had been ripped away and while it had been entertaining at the beginning, his impatience was running very thin.
Diavolo sat straight, vulnerable and at a disadvantage, but still the future Demon King.
“I am Lord Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom” he said with a secure tone. Your expression changed almost imperceptibly, turning to stupefaction before going back to emotionless. “I’ve been transported to this world on accident and I’ve lost my powers. I mean no harm”
“Incapability to make harm and unwillingness to do so are not equal”
“I don’t want any trouble”
“Why would I believe you?”
“It’s in your best interest”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning”
He stared at you without blinking, trying to get his point across without showing any aggressiveness; hopefully, his human-like appearance would help his case.
“You are quite bold” you said with poorly contained ire and indignation. Your lips formed a thin line and there was a deep frown on your face; it almost looked painful.
“I am telling the truth. I’m not sure, but I believe your Diavolo is in my world. If you help me return, he may come back to you”
“And if he doesn’t?”
What a great question.
Nothing certain was on the table, only mere speculation. If he was a human living with the brothers while you were the demon prince living in the castle, it was logical to assume the alternate Diavolo was living in a world where he was the prince and you were the human. Where else could he be otherwise?
“I don’t know” he finally said, swallowing hard. “But I’ll be out of your way”
You stayed in silence for a couple of seconds before getting up and pacing for a few minutes. The grass flattened under your feet and the birds resting on the branches flew away. Your frustration would be noticeable even to the most obtuse demon.
“You were transported; how?”
“There’s a room in the east wing of the castle, not far from the office, with a mirror inside. I was running away from Barbatos when I found it. The reflection it showed wasn’t mine and I got curious, then there was a light and it brought me here”
There was a moment of silence where you both stared at each other. Thankfully, your anger had mostly gone away, having been replaced by intrigue and disbelief. It could be his imagination, but Diavolo was pretty sure there was a tiny smirk on your lips.
“You were running away from Barbatos”
“I was”
“For what reason?”
He closed his eyes with slight embarrassment, knowing perfectly well that the lecturing would follow him no matter the universe.
“He was making me work”
“I beg your pardon?”
There it was, the chuckle of incredulity. You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head as if that would help you hear better. The moonlight was crowning you, leaving your face in the shadows and making Diavolo feel incredibly exposed, but he still answered.
“I’ve been working for days on end and I was tired, but I had more paperwork, so I asked for more tea and took the chance to run away when he left me alone”
“You, as the heir to the throne,” you added with scepticism, “didn’t want to do your job?”
“I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend”
“And who that may be?”
“You” he barked, finally gaining the feeling of having the upper ground.
Diavolo watched with satisfaction as you blinked in surprise, petrified on your spot. There was a shift in your eyes, something that softened the accusation in them, and then, slowly, you walked towards him and sat down again, this time closer but still not touching.
“We are dating in your world?” your voice had subdued as well, slightly leaning towards contentment.
“Yes” he nodded, allowing himself to smile a little. “For a few months now”
“Just like us, then”
His heart did a flip at the statement even when he was already aware of the fact, cheeks growing warm and making him grin like an idiot. You didn’t notice, as you were too occupied admiring the moon in amazement.
“What perfection” you said with a voice hoarse from emotion. ���To find each other in more than one reality”
Diavolo forced himself to swallow and push down that painful spine in his throat. Meeting you had probably been one of the warmest moments of his life, being surpassed only by the day you shared your first kiss, and he kept both memories in his heart with extreme caution and care.
Knowing that those occasions had happened to other versions of him was just another memory waiting to be stored in his brain.
“Perfection, indeed” he answered with wet eyes and no amount of sadness in them. “One of my finest accomplishments”
You chuckled, what was probably the happiest he had seen you so far, before getting up one more time and offering him a hand to help him do the same.
“Come on, let’s get you home. We can search for the mirror and, if that doesn't work, luckily for us, I have a very talented demon who is an expert on portals to other realities”
Diavolo smiled at your teasing, sniffing and swallowing a couple of more times to fully erase the sudden raw emotion that you had both shared just then. Still, there was a bit of uncertainty left in his mind.
“What if your Diavolo doesn’t come back?”
You stopped in your tracks when you heard the question, but didn’t turn around. It seemed he had already seen too much of your emotions in just one night.
“I thought we made it clear” you muttered while continuing to walk the path. “We will always find each other”
.
.
Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @sammywo
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mxkyu--x9e · 4 months ago
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hiiii!!!!!!!! could I request best friend chan who confesses his feelings for reader on live not realizing they're watching? Hopefully this makes sense lol
|:: The chat's view on love
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Author's note: Hii!!!! Thank you for much for this request!! I hope I wrote this to your expectations!! Thank you so much,I'm sorry if it's not to your expectations because it definitely did not make me happy!! But I hope it's good enough.
Synopsis: With Bang Chan's live, Stays swarm in, asking questions and such..and one slip of his tongue revealed a big detail on his life...poor boy's crush.
Warnings: Idol! Bang Chan|| fem! Reader|| nothing really, sorry if it's pretty short.
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"No, Berry is actually doing good!! She's with Hannah in Australia, what are you talking about???" Chan asked the live with confused laughter, as he continued to talk with Stays on his chat. Almost a good few millions, actually.
As he answered questions, laughing softly it wasn't too big on his thoughts to really think everything through and see if Stays psycho-analyze everything he said or did. As he read out questions for himself, while playing random videos of his own entertainment.
"Chocolate or cookies and cream? I'm sorry...I gotta say cookies and cream, it's too bitter for me to eat chocolate in ice-cream." he said, shaking his head as he laughed. "How is your best-friend doing??" he read, and god was he delighted to talk about you!
He also took the time to check your texts from earlier this day, telling him to eat something, as he felt butterflies in his stomach and warmth in his chest, it was just adorable at how much you cared for him.
It felt delightful to get your texts, he didn't know why, it gave him some sort of joy...sure it meant he loved you, you're his best-friend after all, since his trainee years , but this just felt different...
Different from last month...He had no idea when it began, was it when you broke up with your stupid situationship type of boyfriend? Or was it when you personally came to see him after his group won and treated them all to dinner that night...
Maybe it was the fact that you cared for him so deeply, you got along well with Hannah and Berry and his entire family, the fact you always got a good morning and good night text for him in a weird way, how you're always ready to comfort him or others, how you're always the first to support him...It came naturally for him to fall in love with you, how couldn't he??
"They're actually doing pretty great. They recently got me a brand new rice cooker after my old one broke and I was crying to them about it...And god, was it so sweet!! It has bears drawn on it." Chan told the viewers, most commenting about "how cute!" they visualized it to be, how they'd like him to "show it!", and others as he laughed and nodded,
"I will, I will...when I can...But yeah, they've been good. I was texting them today about the new beats I was making and they told me very gently and sweetly, "go eat, la!!" and it's so cute! They're so adorable!!" he said, laughing, as he pressed his lips together to stop the biggest, giddy smile reaching his lips...
"I seriously adore them, they're such an important person in my life and I don't think I ever want to...I don't think I ever want them to leave me..or be apart and I don't want us to drift apart..I might not be making sense, but it's tr-true." he said,
"I ADORE them..." he said, before his eyes glanced up to catch the camera, and he quickly added, "Like a friend, of-course" His heart skipping a beat, as he thought of you again..perfect in his eyes, almost perfect.
He might have not noticed, but Stays definitely did. Speaking from the heart, his irises slightly growing large as he thought of you, an uncontrollable smile on his lips, the one smile where his tiny dimples start showing up as he smiles... That's love...not just admiration for a friend...
And you definitely knew it was love as you stared at the live with bright eyes, feeling flustered already, your stomach cramping in as if on a roller-coaster, you couldn't control your own smile after hearing his honey-dipped words...
The Stays watching knew the warmth those words spread, even in them...Like blankets on a particularly hard day when you simply want to cry, like the warm soup after feeling bad about yourself in the past few days, like the productivity you feel proud of after not living up to your standards, like that one friend's text after you feel left out...
It was warm and it spread to Chan's veins as he glanced at his phone, smiling down, seeing it was yours as he opened, his eyes widening as he scanned the words...
Trying to hide his urge to scream in happiness...But he heard a ping, and he quickly turned back up at camera, eyes widening a bit more that he was still Live..as he reached and looked at his phone, before hurriedly smiling towards the live and Stays,
"I-uh-I gotta go, Stays, a little-...Uh. A littl-emergency, I'm late-late to practice!!" he said, hurriedly shutting off the camera and picking up his phone, his bag and running out to see you as he struggled to put on some shoes, rushing down his apartment...tripping over his own feet slightly as he ran, smiling down at your text.
"I love you too. More than a friend though :)"
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© Mxkyu--e9e. I do not give permission to modify, translate, copy or repost ANY of my works. Reblogs are very much beloved!
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anto-pops · 2 years ago
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Secrets - Ominis Gaunt x Female! Reader
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Summary: After slinking out of Hogwarts for five long, stressful hours in the dead of night, you returned to a pissed off Ominis who is beyond fed up with your blatant disregard for your well being. The last thing he wants to do is let you off easy, so he patches you up and elects to 'punish' you for your infuriating secrecy.
Alternatively summarized as really, really shameless Dominis smut.
Yes, this is the most gratuitous thing I've ever written. No, I will not be taking questions at this time.
Word Count: 9.5k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex (seriously)
Full fic can be found here on Ao3 with much more informative tags
It was well after midnight by the time you returned to Hogwarts. You would have come back sooner if it had been up to you— seeing as you weren’t particularly keen on slinking through the school’s deserted corridors in the dark. But you were tired, bruised, and lacking a good amount of blood that had left your body through the deep slice in your leg, so naturally you moved slowly.
At least with the late hour, you would be able to avoid Ominis. There was no way you could deal with his particular brand of ire right now. 
You didn’t mean to keep these things from him, but he was a chronic worrier. Every time you left the castle walls for something– be it for potions ingredients, or to help out in a nearby village– Ominis would grouse about it. While he knew you could handle yourself in most situations, he was convinced that you continued putting yourself in danger simply because it was the only thing you were used to. From the moment you entered his world in your fifth-year, you had been fighting for your life and solving other people’s problems without so much as a spare thought for yourself.
He made it very clear to you that he wasn’t a fan of your heroism. “It’s not your job to fix everything,” he had told you one night after you missed dinner to take on an entire Poacher camp by yourself. 
You knew that. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t at least try to help where you could. 
Which was precisely why you had agreed to travel to Marunweem in the first place. The town’s doctor had sent you an owl requesting your assistance after a caravan of medical supplies was raided by Ashwinders. The grimy bastards had holed up in a cave a mile outside of the village for the better part of a month and had been robbing its denizens left and right, leaving the townsfolk too terrified to leave their homes and run the risk of getting hounded. 
Finding the slippery fuckers had been easy enough. What you hadn’t counted on was the second group of them that returned to the camp half-way through dispatching the first bunch. Their arrival had caught you off guard, which was the only reason one of the Scouts succeeded in hitting you with a Diffindo charm when your back was turned. You had been effectively handicapped for the remainder of the fight, limping around to dodge more curses and charms alike, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. In the end, you had made it out victorious, leaving a pile of Ashwinder bodies behind in your wake. 
Climbing the staircase to the Astronomy Wing was a trial in and of itself; your leg stung fiercely every time you lifted your knee to take another step, the torn skin pulling uncomfortably and throbbing with every minute movement you made. You were all too grateful to reach the top landing, the massive, oak entryway to the Room of Requirement revealing itself before you’d even reached the wall. A small mercy.
The heavy door swung shut behind you as you limped straight from the entrance over to your potion’s table. There was only one thing on your mind, and you already knew you had no vials of Wiggenweld left, so you started methodically gathering what you needed to brew a fresh batch. You lit the burner and added Horklump Juice to the cauldron first, letting that simmer over low heat while you riffled through a drawer to grab a rag. 
“Aguamenti,” you murmured under your breath, saturating the cloth with water before firmly pressing it against the jagged gash in your thigh. The fibers burned the raw skin underneath, but you grit your teeth through the pain, whimpering softly as you turned back to your Wiggenweld potion. Healing magic was always something that had eluded you– despite your best efforts– and as a result, you didn’t trust yourself to properly stitch your skin back together with a spell.
As you picked out a handful of Dittany to toss into the bubbling mixture, the telltale sound of clothing shuffling reached your ears. After the hellish night you’d just lived through, your instincts had you whirling around with your free hand hovering inches away from your side, ready to draw your wand from its holster in a heartbeat. 
It was Ominis. Shit.
He was sitting on the couch on the opposite side of the room, bathed in the silvery moonlight that streamed through the skylight overhead. Your tunnel vision upon entering the room had allowed you to overlook his presence entirely– but he’d also made no move to make himself known. His sharp, angular features were drawn into a tense expression, and his fingers tapped impatiently against his crossed legs, betraying just how pissed he actually was. 
Fuck. 
“Ominis, what are you doing just sitting there? You scared me, why didn’t you say something?” Your heart hammered against your sternum so hard, you were certain that he could hear it. 
“What am I doing?” Ominis’ voice was like a whip, cutting through the air as viscerally as the Diffindo charm that had sliced your leg. “How about you tell me where you’ve been for the last five hours, or why you’re bleeding out and trying to fix it with a potion instead of going to the Hospital Wing?”
There was a split second where you considered denying his claims, but you knew it was pointless. He had likely heard you mewling and smelled the blood the moment you walked through the doors— and besides, lying would only upset him further. “I had to deal with a few Ashwinders in Marunweem,” you confessed, wanting desperately to leave it at that so you could focus on dealing with your leg.  
Ominis finally stood from the couch, his imposing presence amplifying as he strode across the chamber with his wand clutched tight in his white knuckled grip. “Since when are ‘a few’ Ashwinders getting the jump on you? Don’t sugarcoat the truth, I’m in no mood for your tip-toeing.”
You sighed as the blond planted himself directly in front of you, the slender fingers of his free hand reaching for your shoulder, and once he found you, he followed your arm down to where you held the rag against your thigh. His brows slammed down at the grating confirmation that yes– you were hurt, and he tsked disapprovingly before nodding over your shoulder at the potion’s table. “Sit down, I’ll do it– and turn off the burner.” 
Once again, you found yourself hesitating, if only because your pride had never allowed you to easily accept assistance from other people. But the rigid set to Ominis’ shoulders had you complying relatively quickly, afraid that if you protested him helping, he would really let you have it. So you cranked the burner knob to the off position, then shuffled over to the other end of the table. 
A soft hiss slipped through your teeth as you shifted to hoist yourself onto the flat surface, the movement pulling at your wound painfully, and you instantly felt Ominis’ warm hands around your waist. He helped you hop up on the table, letting you get settled as he pried the rag away from your thigh. His ministrations were soft and thoughtful; a stark contrast to the unyielding, vexed expression on his face. 
Your trousers hung in tatters around your injured leg, fluttering listlessly around your calf, so Ominis tore the remaining fabric away and discarded it to the floor. His wand flared briefly as he summoned a collection of Wiggenweld potions beside you, handing one to you soundlessly. 
As you worked the cork out of the top, you muttered, “When did you brew these?” 
“I didn’t,” Ominis replied evenly, taking the damp cloth from your trembling fingers to re-saturate it with water. You jolted in place when he pressed it to your thigh, but the tender sweep of his thumb across your unmarred knee soothed you instantly. “They’re technically Sebastian’s. I’m sure he’ll be less than pleased to find them missing from his trunk, but he’ll understand.”
Humming your acknowledgment, you finally popped open the vial and knocked back its contents, relaxing into the table as the liquid warmed your insides and worked its magic. When Ominis pulled the rag away from your leg, you were pleased to find that the bleeding had subsided significantly, but the skin was torn too deep to fully stitch back together after one dose of Wiggenweld. 
The blond lifted his wand to cast a diagnostic spell, setting the blood-soaked cloth off to the side before a lyrical chant slipped from his lips. Vulnera Sanentur was far from an easy spell to cast– much less master– but Ominis did it without a second thought, never once lifting his head as he expertly worked to mend your skin. You knew that he had taken to studying healing magic after your sixth-year, but you hadn’t actually seen Ominis use any of what he’d learned until now. The feeling of your skin pulling together was strange, but not uncomfortable, and you watched wide-eyed as the gaping wound closed up and left only a faint, pink scar behind. 
“When did you become so proficient with healing spells?” You asked him as he stood straight, summoning a few Dittany leaves into the palm of his hand. He twisted them between his fingers and wafted the scent towards his face before holding them out to you. 
“Around the same time you and Sebastian started using yourselves as shields in Crossed Wands. Now hold these on top of the area for a bit, otherwise the scar will linger,” he instructed you matter-of-factly, and his stern tone made your shoulders sag. You truly hated it when he was upset with you. 
“I really am sorry, Ominis.” You muttered remorsefully as you accepted the leaves, and his brows pinched together at the sound of your dejected tone. “I didn’t mean to upset you with all of this–”
“I’m getting rather tired of sitting idly by while you throw yourself into danger. What is it going to take for you to realize that what you’re doing is incredibly careless? What happens when the next spell hits a little higher and kills you, hm? What would I do then?” His frustration rolled off of him in thick, potent waves that made your stomach churn with anxiety.
“Ominis please, I know you care about me, but there are things I’m obligated to do– especially as a wielder of this ancient magic. No one else can do what I can–” 
“I really don’t care about everyone else,” he practically growled the statement and closed the miniscule space between the two of you so that he could brace his arms on either side of your hips, caging you between his long, lithely muscled arms. “All I care about is you and your wellbeing, but you have this infuriating ability to do the exact opposite of what I ask. Why? Sometimes I get the feeling you see me as more of a chastising parent than your boyfriend.” 
Hearing that made you scowl, “That’s absurd, of course I don’t see you that way. I just hate to worry you with these things–”
“Well, I am worried. I’ve been worried. You used to be more careful about these excursions of yours, but now you’re beyond reckless. You used to listen to reason and now you’re too stubborn for your own good.” His eyes were like burning pools of moonlight, piercing through your very soul as he leaned forward to trail his hand up your arm and across your shoulder. “I have a growing distaste for your rebellious streak. Why must you insist on being so disobedient?” 
Something about the word disobedient had your retort shriveling up in your throat, and your mouth snapped shut with an audible clack of teeth while your eyes flickered between Ominis’. His expression was drawn tight, but there was something else there– something domineering about the way he spoke to you. You’d seen this side of Ominis before, but it had been a long time since you’d actually done anything that worked him into such a state. Uncertainty washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you swallowed around a lump in your throat. 
Ominis’ hand on your shoulder continued to rise, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your clammy skin until they splayed outwards and he was holding you loosely by the neck. There was no helping your startled gasp at the brazen move, and you stared wide-eyed up at him as your nails dug into the surface of the table. Your silence was palpable, as was the shiver that coursed through you, and Ominis acknowledged both of those things with a taunting smirk. 
“What, nothing to say now? Has it sunk in? Have I finally gotten through that ironclad head of yours?” 
You honestly didn’t know what the hell was going on in your head. Things had shifted so suddenly that now instead of feeling remorseful for aggravating your boyfriend, you were keenly interested in seeing what treatment you’d won yourself by doing so. “I-I’m sorry, Ominis–” 
He tightened his hand briefly to angle your head to the side, pulling another gasp from your parted lips, and he hunched forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of your exposed neck. You could feel his lips smiling against your pulse, betraying exactly what he had in mind for you, and you whimpered pitifully under him. 
“I didn’t ask if you were sorry, I asked if I made myself clear; I don’t like you putting yourself in harm's way, but I especially loathe it when you try to keep things from me.” You felt the pinprick of his nails digging into the soft skin below your jaw– not overbearingly tight– but it made you acutely aware of the placement of every one of his fingers, and the sensation had your heart skipping beats one after another. 
“I know, I understand,” you whispered, your voice airy and fleeting. “I wasn’t going out of my way to keep secrets– I just came here to take care of my leg, I wasn’t expecting you to be waiting for me–”
His teeth nipped at the skin of your neck, pulling another gasp from your throat and cutting your rebuttal short  “Would you have told me about it if I hadn’t caught you slinking in here tonight?” 
“E-Eventually–” you started to say, and in a flash Ominis was pulling away from you to glare fixedly in your direction. His grip on your throat stayed gentle but firm as he angled your face back to his, and one of your own hands finally shot up from the surface of the table to wrap around his slender wrist. 
“No lying,” he hissed, nearing closer so that his lips were mere inches away from yours. “You and I both know you would sooner tangle with Devil’s Snare before telling me you’ve been galavanting through the Highlands taking on dark wizards by yourself.”
“I would have,” you bit back at him, the conviction in your tone making him draw pause. “Maybe I would have omitted a few details, but yes, I would have told you. I don’t make a habit of not telling you things.”
“And yet, here we are.” The ghost of his breath danced across your lips, your mind flooding with unrestrained fantasies and ideas that were made all the more potent at the feeling of his thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw. “Sometimes I feel like the only way to keep you out of trouble would be to restrain you and lock you away in your bedroom. At least then I could make sure you stay safe.” 
You hated arguing with Ominis. You despised making him doubt your sincerity. It made you anxious anytime you knew he was upset with you, in large part because he got angry with you so rarely. But right now, an offhand comment like that was doing more to frazzle you and fuel a slew of unholy thoughts that had no business existing at the same time he was scolding you. 
What the fuck was wrong with you? 
Ominis elected to release his hold on your throat at that moment, jarring you from your thoughts, and he dropped the appendage to your thigh. Your breathing hitched when he trailed his palm lightly over where your wound had been minutes earlier, and he shook his head disapprovingly at you. The scar was still evident under his touch– the Dittany leaves he’d given you still gripped loosely in your fist, unused. 
“How does your leg feel? Any other wounds I need to know about?” He asked you, almost somewhat… cunningly. 
The sudden change in topic wasn’t unusual, but it was the way he presented the question that made you pause before answering. You decided to humor him and testingly lifted your knee, pleased to find that doing so didn’t cause you burning pain any longer. “No, and it’s a lot better actually. Thank you.”
He seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, his wand-bearing hand sliding up your forearm to lightly grasp your elbow as the other skirted higher up your leg, stopping to toy with the frayed fabric of your torn trousers. “Don’t thank me yet. Come with me.”
In a flash, Ominis had tugged you off of the table, his grip on your arm like a vice as he began leading you further into the Room. “Ah– Merlin, Ominis, what are you doing?” You nearly tripped over your own feet, but the blond’s unrelenting hold on you kept you upright as he pulled you behind him down the narrow staircase that led to the larger portion of the vast chamber. 
“Such simple instructions and yet you fail to follow them,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “At this point, I’m convinced you’re doing it on purpose to get a rise out of me, so consider this your punishment.”
Ominis knew exactly where to steer you when he reached the bottom step– with or without his wand– and the nervousness you felt was greatly overshadowed by the ripe anticipation that blossomed in your gut. He threw his shoulder against the door to the bedroom to shove it open before hauling you through the entryway, immediately getting to work to show you exactly what sort of ‘punishment’ he had in mind. 
“Stop whining and use your words.” 
Ominis’ sharp voice cut off your guttural moan, and he removed his hand from your throbbing core once again, killing your building release for the nth time tonight. You couldn’t help it; you sobbed at the loss. The imposing blond man leaned forward, whispering his response along your jaw slowly and playfully nipping at the skin as he moved down. “The sooner you apologize, the sooner we can cease this incessant game.” 
You’d been here for some time already, sprawled out on your shared bed in the Room of Requirement with Ominis circling you like a hawk. Every so often he would elect to touch you again, giving you a modicum of reprieve from the burning tension between your legs, but not before pulling his fingers away right as you were on the cusp of your climax. The two of you had been going at it for close to an hour now, and it was suffice to say you were losing your fucking mind. 
Your wrists had been tied snug together and bound above your head, rendering your hands useless as your boyfriend toyed with you to his heart’s content. You were a flushed, panting mess underneath him, hopelessly writhing against the sheets in search of more of anything. The ache between your legs was tantamount to torture.
As you drew your knees together in a feeble attempt to create some friction for yourself, Ominis felt you fidgeting and sat up to stop you in your tracks. His long, elegant fingers gripped both of your legs and spread them apart, leaving you fully exposed to him as a throaty whine sounded from your lips. 
“Please, Ominis–” your raspy voice cracked on his name, drawing a dark chuckle from him that sent a thrill down your spine. 
“I don’t know why you’re begging when you know you should be apologizing,” he chidded you, tilting his head to the side to cast a taunting look in your direction. “I know what you want, but what about what I want?” 
“I-I already said I was sorry,” you gritted through your teeth, momentarily grateful that Ominis couldn’t see the piercing glare you fixed him with. How many times did he want you to say it? “What more do you want me to do?” 
He moved into your space so fast, it made you gasp and press harder into the mattress. His eyes were stormy and swimming with emotion as he growled, “I want you to mean it. Every word. Apologize for keeping secrets and for making me worry– then you can start begging me to come.”
Ominis brought his hands to your chest to drag his blunt nails lightly down your front, stopping the appendages over your pert nipples to pinch the sensitive buds, and your stuttered apology caught in your throat at the feeling. “Hah– I am sorry Ominis, I really am. I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll tell you everything from now on– n-no more secrets– ah–”
The wet warmth of Ominis’ mouth came over one of your nipples, followed by the sharp sting of his teeth clamping down, and it had you moaning and arching into him further. You heard his throaty laugh, blearily lifting your head in an attempt to get a better look at him, but he was already moving back to sit on his heels with his hands tracing burning circles on your legs.  
“Hm, that sounds better,” Ominis murmured down at you, trailing his fingers tentatively over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You had half a mind to shift your hips closer to him– desperate to finally have your release after so long– but you knew doing so would just set you back even further. The urge to please Ominis any way you could was bone deep, so you fought down the desire to move, remaining a twitching, keening mess atop the sheets. 
“Please,” you whined softly, tugging pathetically on the rope bindings around your wrists. “I want you so badly Ominis, gods– I want you to fuck me, make me cum for you. P-Please, Ominis, please.” 
He didn’t respond at first, his hands stilling against your legs as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. You sounded divine begging for him like this. It almost made him want to cave early and finally give you what you wanted… but that would be too easy, especially considering it was your sneaking around that had landed the two of you in this position in the first place. 
No, he intended on playing with you a little while longer before wrapping things up. 
“You know I like taking my time,” Ominis purred down at you, and there was no missing the teasing undertone to his voice. 
The tension in your gut seemed to worsen in that instant, and you honestly could have cried. 
Ominis’ hands left your thighs to brace on either side of you as he leaned forward, a predatory glint in his milky blue eyes. His head dropped into the hollow of your throat, flicking the tip of his clever tongue against your pulse before licking a broad stripe down the vulnerable column of your neck. You shuddered at the bold move, whimpering at the expression he bore when he pulled back to smooth down your hair affectionately. 
“So I will take my time fucking you, and you’d best believe I’ll have you screaming my name so loud you won’t be able to speak afterwards. I’ll bend you in half– fuck you so hard that we break the damn bed– and you know what?” 
It took you a second to realize he was asking you a question, but the most coherent response you could muster was a soft whine. It was enough. 
“When you’re shaking under me, fucked out and sensitive from finally getting to come…” Ominis smiled, licking his lips as he bent forward again to whisper devilishly in your ear, “I’ll keep fucking you, hard and fast until you’re brainless and drooling and all you can think about or say is my name.” 
You were positive you were already brainless. The filthy, wicked promises dripping from Ominis’ mouth left plenty to the imagination, and you were a damn good visualizer. With a low growl, he sank his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, biting and sucking an angry mark into your clammy skin. You moaned in earnest, all too pleased to finally be moving forward with things. You didn’t think you’d ever wanted to come so bad in your fucking life. 
When Ominis pulled away, you half expected him to start marking up the other side of your neck, but instead he backed off to shift around and swing one of his knees over your bare chest. He held himself precariously over you, refraining from smothering you with his body weight, and in doing so you were faced with Ominis’ straining, confined arousal mere inches from your lips. You huffed out a needy breath. 
“Be a good girl and take it out,” he instructed, a coy smirk stretching across his face.
You squinted up at him then, giving the rope around your wrists a pointed tug, and he felt the motion reverberate through your prone form. He only laughed at you, shifting slightly to rub his clothed erection against your lips teasingly. 
“Use your mouth if you can’t use your hands.” 
It took you a second, but when you finally understood, your mouth parted on a long, low moan as your hips wriggled excitedly. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you drew in a deep breath before zeroing in on the catch of your boyfriend’s trousers. You surged forward and dragged your tongue up the thick outline of his cock, tracing along his undoubtedly uncomfortable arousal until you were kissing your way up the fly to the button. 
Ominis just listened, half amused and half extremely turned on as you struggled to figure out your plan of attack. You nuzzled briefly against his groin before throwing caution to the wind and deciding to just go for it. Hooking your front teeth over the edge of the fabric above the button, you absolutely allowed them to scrape over Ominis’ light happy trail, relishing in the shiver it drew from him. You tugged the material down, and with a helpful push of your tongue, you managed to get the button through the catch. 
You didn’t bother to hide your excitement; a giddy noise weasled it’s way past your lips, and you grinned smugly to yourself. Ever the perceptive one, Ominis felt his waistband loosen and gently raked his fingers through your mused hair in silent praise. That was the extent of his congratulations, though, before he was tugging on the strands softly to urge you towards the significantly easier zipper. You caught the thin bit of metal between the tip of your canine and clenched your teeth, dipping your head to pull it down, and your victory was marked by the barely there sigh that snuck out of Ominis’ parted lips. 
The blond elected to take pity on you then, sitting up on his knees just enough so that he could shove his trousers and briefs down around his hips. His fingers moved slower when he got to the front of his waist, tilting his head to the side before carefully peeling the restrictive fabric away from his groin, and his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his taut stomach. Taking himself in his hands, Ominis shamelessly angled his cock towards you and slapped the leaking head against your cheek a few times, leaving a streak of pre-come across your face that you feebly tried to lick away, to no avail. 
You nestled fervently against his shaft, your enthusiasm palpable and more than enough to make Ominis’ head spin. He was positive he wasn’t meant to be feeling such warm fuzzies when he was supposed to be wrecking you as punishment. 
Then again, you’d been a little too interested in his idea of payback earlier, so nothing was really going according to plan when he thought long and hard about it.  
“Ominis,” you breathed, dragging his attention back to you restrained between his legs. Your soft lips brushed against the head of his cock then, your quick tongue flicking gently at the sensitive slit, and the sensation had him shivering as his breathing kicked up in anticipation. “Can I suck your cock?” 
“I thought I answered that question already,” Ominis murmured, nudging his hips forward so he could smear warm pre-come all along your flushed lips. Your tongue darted out to lick at the slick trail, staring up at him with such intensity that you were certain he could feel your eyes on him. “You want it?” You nodded, licking your lips again as you tried leaning up to run your tongue over the head, but Ominis chose that moment to pull back just out of your reach. The whine that fell from your mouth was like music to his ears, and Ominis felt you begin wiggling your hips impatiently. 
There it was. Ominis’ goal was to work you into a needy, frantic mess— he wanted you begging and moaning for him until he was sure he had shattered your composure entirely, and somehow he had a feeling that was what you wanted too. 
Ominis’ fingers spread through your unruly hair and tightened a fraction as he pulled your head towards him, using his free hand to angle his impressive length towards your mouth. “Open.” 
He could feel and hear your hot breaths against his achingly hard cock as you stuck your tongue out in invitation, and Ominis couldn’t help the sharp pang of lust that shot through him at the way you just… obeyed him. It was exactly what he’d wanted from the moment you walked into the Room tonight. 
Breathing a quiet laugh, he went ahead and slapped the slick head of his member against your tongue, hissing softly when you immediately swirled the muscle around the head to lap up the copious amounts of pre-come he was already dripping with. The lewd, wet sounds coming from you beneath him were enough to leave Ominis twitching between your lips against his better judgment, and he tipped his head back as he lost himself in the blissful strokes of your perfect tongue. 
“Ominis,” you breathed after a minute, your lips brushing lightly against his cock entirely purposefully. “Please fuck my mouth.”
Merlin.
He needed a fucking second to process that, his eyes widening up at the ceiling at the same time a predatory grin split your face. The shock was quickly buried, however, and Ominis regained some semblance of control when he tilted his head down at you and tightened his hold against your scalp. “Hm, I don’t know. Have you been good enough to get your mouth and your cunt fucked?” 
You squeezed your eyes shut, chills breaking out all over your skin as a shudder coursed through you. Ominis loved being able to feel your physical reactions to his words, and he smiled despite himself. He was willing to bet that if he checked, you would be unbearably wet between your legs, staining the sheets preemptively with pooling slick. 
“You don’t think so?” You asked him, voice low with arousal. 
“It’s debatable,” Ominis moved back again, easily dodging your attempts to take him back in your mouth with an annoying smirk. “You’ve been pulling at the ropes for a while now, I can hear the fibers rubbing together.” 
You flexed your fingers on cue, your brows furrowing as you shook your head. “I was only shifting.” 
“Oh? How am I to know if you’re telling the truth?” 
Ominis languidly stroked himself with a degree of confidence that made your mouth water. Your eyes flicked down to his cock, any ounce of shame evaporating from your body as you wet your lips and forced yourself to remain well behaved. “You’ll just have to trust me.” 
“That’s unscientific– and also highly unlikely given the circumstances. How about this; you know I’ll always inevitably get the truth out of you one way or another. I’ll fuck your mouth, but if you’re lying to me, that’s all you get. All night.” 
Your jaw dropped, utterly appalled by the threat, and your drawn out silence told Ominis that you had absolutely been fibbing– but he just flashed you a sly grin as he continued to lazily work his hand up and down his shaft. He let you mull his words over, noting your audible gulp before you were muttering under your breath, “Honest witches have nothing to hide.” 
“Alright then,” Ominis hummed in amusement, sitting forward on his knees once again. “Open up, sweetheart.” 
You did so all too eagerly– ecstatic when Ominis finally guided his cock into your mouth, the wet heat making him groan low in his throat, and the sound got louder when you moaned and closed your lips around him firmly. 
Fuck.
Ominis slid deeper into your mouth, over your wet tongue, then oh– into your throat, and you had more than enough experience to be able to relax and take his cock nearly to the base. His thighs shook on either side of you, his hands finding their way back to your hair to hold you in place, and you took the liberty of hollowing your cheeks around him and swallowing. 
“Bloody hell,” Ominis moaned, his eyes pinching shut at the blissful feeling as he rocked his hips back. He moved just enough for you to be able to breathe, but after nearly an hour of dealing with his erection pressed uncomfortably against his trousers, that was about the extent of his patience. 
He got to work setting a steady rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of your incredible mouth, your tongue, hollowed cheeks, and the tiny movements of your head enough to leave him gasping your name. Your eyes were glued to him– unable to help but watch as a bright flush started to creep up the neckline of Ominis’ shirt and spread over his angular cheeks. In the heat of the moment, the urge to run your hands up his torso came over you, but the rope around your wrists stopped you in your tracks, making you whine around your mouthful. Ominis sighed and sped up some, encouraged by your muffled noises and the unrelenting, insane ministrations of your tongue against the underside of his cock. 
Ominis grew braver and rolled his hips perfectly in time with the shallow bobbing of your head, the tip of his shaft sliding into your throat for just a moment, and your choked moan betrayed exactly how much you liked it. Your whines turned pleading as you quickly adjusted to the intrusion, half brainless with need as you worked to pleasure Ominis the best that you could. The hand he had curled around your disheveled strands of hair moved your head in sync with his hips, giving you a small bit of leeway to angle your neck otherwise if you so chose, but you planned to do no such thing. 
“F-Feels so good, darling,” Ominis grit through his teeth, letting his head fall forward as waves of rapture danced down his spine. You made a throaty sound in response, your sucking growing sloppier with Ominis’ rushed bucking, but that was the farthest thing from a problem in his mind. The messy, wet sounds from his cock slipping out of your mouth before you greedily swallowed him down again were fucking addictive. 
It was all too easy to let himself be overcome with the sheer euphoria that came with being encased in your mouth, but the incessant, growing fire in his gut was becoming too much to bear. He was getting dangerously close, and he hadn’t spent all that time with his fingers buried in your cunt to ignore it entirely now. So as much as it pained him to, he shook the desire to come from his mind and tugged your head back. You pulled off of his cock with a shaky breath, thick strands of saliva and precome dangling between your lips and the swollen head. 
He hardly waited before he was shuffling down your body to give himself the space to start undressing, beginning with the top buttons of his shirt– and if you spent a little too long watching his deft fingers skirt down the row of clasps, he certainly didn’t need to know about it. The shirt fell open, revealing his smooth, pale chest, and he shrugged it off his toned shoulders without looking away from your spot on the bed. It never failed to make your stomach flip– how he always managed to zero in on your presence no matter where you were. 
With some impressive side stepping, Ominis shed his trousers and briefs together, kicking the offensive attire away from the edge of the bed so he could crawl back to you undeterred. He felt his way up your body, goosebumps breaking out over your skin in the wake of his fingers, and when he found your lips, he was leaning down to crush his mouth against yours in a heated kiss. He swallowed your mewls and gasps easily while he slid one hand up your raised arms to the rope around your wrists, running his fingers along the edge of the restraints in silent question.
“Leave it for now,” you whispered against his plush lips, and he smirked. “I like this.” 
Your voice was still rough from swallowing his cock, and the blond couldn’t help but notice— a spark of arousal shooting through him as he nodded and kissed you again. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, breathing hot against one another as your hearts raced in time and pulled you both away from the desperate precipice you’d been riding. 
“You’re shaking, love.” Ominis observed, feeling the small tremors reverberate through your body against his own. His hand trailed back down your arms while the other stayed propped under him, giving him better leverage to lean over you and press a chaste kiss to your temple. “I think you’ve more than made up for everything by now, what about you? Want me to take care of you? Will you be good for me?”
“Yes,” you rasped out, sounding ten different kinds of seductive without even knowing it. Ominis swallowed thickly, tensing when he felt you writhe in place against the mattress, your hips ever so gently brushing against his throbbing cock. “Please Ominis, I’ll be good– I promise– I’ll do whatever you want–” 
He silenced you with a suffocating kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth and rendering your brain a useless pile of mush as he splayed his fingers around the curve of your jaw. It left you entirely at his mercy as he practically stole your breath from your lungs, licking and biting at your lips until they were swollen and throbbing, and your nails dug fitfully into your palms in response to the mounting pressure between your legs. 
“You sound so pretty when you beg, love. So eager to please,” he whispered against your mouth in-between kisses. “So I’ll fuck you, but you can’t come until I say so. Understood?” 
There was a good chance you were about to combust. 
You didn’t think you were going to last long with Ominis’ cock inside of you, but if telling him that ran the risk of not getting fucked, you would rather say nothing. Still, your displeasure was voiced in the form of a pained groan, and your frustrated sigh against your boyfriend’s lips dutifully conveyed your feelings on the matter to him. 
“Don’t complain. Here I thought you were going to be good for me,” Ominis mused sarcastically, obviously teasing you with the promise of being filled up. “I never did find out… were you behaving earlier?” 
Dammit. You couldn’t stop the whine that ripped from your throat as you tried to duck your head out of Ominis’ unrelenting grip, to no avail. His hold on your jaw stayed firm, forcing your eyes to remain glued to him while he unabashedly rolled his cock against the curve of your hip– as though to remind you of his earlier promise. 
“You weren’t, were you.” It wasn’t a question. You licked your lips, honestly considering your options when Ominis angled your head to the side to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t you dare lie. If you tell me the truth, I won’t be mean to you.”
Your eyes slid shut, minutely shifting your hips towards the tantalizing feeling of Ominis’ cock pressed against your hip, before you shook your head and choked out a meek, “No.”
“Hm, of course not,” he murmured playfully, biting at the shell of your ear, then your neck, and he moaned softly when you tilted your head further to the side to offer more of yourself to him. “But I already knew that. Better late than never, I suppose.” 
In a flash, Ominis had released your face and was sitting back on his heels, gathering your knees together so he could pin them to the side and give himself better access to your ass. Before you could question him, he brought his free hand down and landed a good, echoing slap against the sensitive skin of your rear, leaving you arching helplessly off of the sheets with a wanton moan. With your wrists still bound, all you could do was flail your legs in Ominis’ hold, but his broad hand kept them pressed against the sheets– forcing you to bear the sting for a moment before he was soothing the spot with his warm palm. 
“O-Ominis–” 
You were cut off as he spanked you again, a shrill cry ripping from your lips as your spine rounded in your feeble attempts to escape, but Ominis held you in place despite your writhing. “Is that enough of a warning? Do you promise to be good?” 
“Y-Yes, yes, Ominis, please–” 
The pressure on your knees let up as Ominis shifted you back into your original position, only this time he nestled himself between your trembling legs with the heavy head of his cock dragging deliciously over your incredibly slick entrance. He slipped his hand under the crook of one of your knees, bending it back to give himself more room to rock his hips as he said, “I hope so.” 
“Please, don’t tease me anymore, Ominis– I can’t take it,” you gasped out your pleas, cracking your bleary eyes open to gaze up at the striking man towering over you. Those luminescent, unseeing eyes of his were seemingly alight behind the messy strands of blond hair that fell forward in his face, and the positively immoral expression he bore had you repeating his name like a broken mantra that filled him with renewed vigor. 
Ominis stifled a moan, biting the inside of his cheek as he finally pressed into you, and he let his eyes roll back at the feeling while you groaned with unrestrained contentment. You were fucking beside yourself, your hands twisting fitfully in your restraints as you let out a long, stuttered string of words that didn’t properly form, and by the time Ominis was fully sheathed inside of you, your patience had run out. 
“Merlin, Ominis,” your head flew back against the pillows, pathetically rocking your hips back in search of more, because his shallow grinding wasn’t going to begin to cut it. You craved this– you needed to get fucked through the bed, needed for Ominis to rail you like the world was ending– you needed more. “Ominis!” 
“F-Fuck, sweetheart,” He wheezed out, hugging your leg to his torso as he panted heavily from how unbelievably tight you were, and how incredible you felt. Part of him wanted to be gentle with you– to roll his hips smoothly and evenly to build you up slowly and perfectly– but Ominis knew what you wanted. Even if he didn’t, you took it upon yourself to educate him with your next breath.
“Ominis, fuck me, please,” you were practically sobbing, rutting down onto his cock with what little movement you could muster on your back. “Come on, fuck me– please just fuck me already– please, please, ah–”
Getting you this worked up took no small amount of effort. Ominis took immense pride in the mess he’d made of you for a brief moment, sighing when you squeezed tighter around his cock and moaned his name again. “You sound so fucking good, love,” he hummed, giving you a slow little grind that left you overcome with urgency. “I told you I’d take care of you.” 
Before you even had time to moan in response, Ominis was readjusting his grip on your leg, shifting the one still against the sheets further to the side so he had more room at his disposal when he pulled back and fucking rammed his cock back into you.
He didn’t waste any time in keeping up this way, either. 
You were utterly delirious. 
Ominis fucked you so hard and so fast, it seemed like it shouldn’t even be possible. The slap of his hips against your ass reverberated loudly off the stone walls of the bedroom, but it was overshadowed completely by how loud you were screaming. 
It was everything you’d wanted. Probably more so, because Ominis was fucking railing into you with some insane stamina, breathing loud moans of his own, gasping your name, and you couldn’t even find the brain power to beg for more. Every time he pulled back and left you nearly empty, he was fucking you open again with the force of his cock, jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your bound hands against the headboard and utilizing your newfound leverage to push back onto him. 
Ominis allowed you to rut against him for a few thrusts– enough to appreciate the lush sound of your ass bouncing against his hips– until the urge to take you over completely filled him. He moaned then, the noise low and savage, and he moved so that he was leaning over you with the knee he’d been holding flung haphazardly over his shoulder. Pressing into you further, you gave a whimpered protest at having your efforts cut short, but Ominis ignored you entirely in favor of spreading you wider to accommodate his larger frame. 
With you pinned beneath him in complete possession, Ominis wasted little time in fucking you harder, faster– his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the head of his cock clean past your sweet spot so intensely that it damn near knocked you out. 
If you could use words at all, you would have tried to warn Ominis that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t. You were so full of his cock, your throat raw from screaming, and you were being held down and fucked like you were merely a toy with your hands grasping pointlessly at air. 
You felt Ominis before you heard him when he loomed over you to groan hot in your ear, his cock reaching deeper and hitting you even better than before, and when you were right there– tense and tight and wailing Ominis’ name over and over– he fucking growled his warning against your temple, and you broke down and sobbed. 
“Don’t you dare come.”
Your noisy, brainless pleas fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend continued owning you, never letting up as he kept you pinned to the bed and chased his own pleasure. You were close– so fucking close that you didn’t know what to do with yourself besides cry and hope to whatever Gods existed that Ominis would have mercy on you. 
Pulling at the ropes around your wrists frantically, your garbled cries blurred together in a barely intelligible string of ‘please’s at the same time it started to hurt from how long you’d been on the cusp of your climax. Tears streaked down your face, frustration and desperation and too much pleasure twining together with the pain of holding back, and before you could figure out what was happening, Ominis was looping one of his arms under your back. He tugged you so you were arched towards him, your front held flush to his chest as he bent you precariously upwards, all the while maintaining his unrelenting pace. 
“Come on, darling, come for me,” Ominis urged you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweat-slick skin and making you shiver with delight for a multitude of reasons. He planted his feet firmly against the bed, bucking his hips up with a precision that left you boneless in his arms while he slammed his cock right into that mind-numbing spot so perfectly, and then you couldn’t hold back anymore. 
Your orgasm was earth-shattering. 
The world seemed to flash a brilliant white around you, making you oblivious to everything in existence but the guttural moans slipping from Ominis above you, and for a good, long minute, your mind simply halted. You were vaguely aware of yourself gasping as he stilled his movements, having the good grace to remain idly in place while his gentle hands willed you to relax. 
“I have never heard you scream that loud,” Ominis groaned, sounding equal parts wonderstruck and pained– which probably had everything to do with his still-hard cock twitching inside of you. He gingerly lowered your prone body down onto the mattress, relishing in the weak, fucked out whimper the action pulled from you. “Are you alright?” 
You tried saying yes, but it came out sounding more like a croak than a reassurance. Ominis chuckled darkly, sliding his hands down to your hips as though he were about to pull out, but your shaky legs wrapping around his slender waist stopped him in his tracks, and the movement had him choking on your name as he pressed down to hold you still. 
“You want me to keep going?” Ominis asked, his voice incredibly tight and strained from the way your pulsing walls squeezed around his cock again. 
This time, you managed to get your tongue to obey your brain and formulate a full sentence. “Y-Yeah, please Ominis. I want you to fill me up, please keep going.”
Ominis’ head fell forward, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist for a modicum of restraint. The tone of your voice was seriously doing him in, as was the way you seemed to suck him in deeper with your legs. “You have to tell me if it’s too much.” 
You made a tiny sound of agreement before melting back into the mattress as Ominis’ hand slid up your thigh, lingering for a moment on the tiny scar you’d failed to heal earlier. He said nothing of it though, instead leaning down to kiss you hungrily before taking advantage of your legs coiled around his back, rocking into your tight heat once again. 
The stark contrast between his earlier pace and his current one was almost dizzying. Ominis’ possessive snarls gave way to worshiping moans, and the hands that had previously pinned you down now reverently trailed up your torso to lovingly run his fingers up your chest, then your neck, and finally over your tear stained cheeks. It felt incredible; his cock moved so perfectly inside of you while his hands pressed and soothed whatever part of your body they could make contact with, but his restraint was still there. He had to be going insane– you’d been at this for an eternity, and he still hadn’t gotten to come yet. If his strained moans and trembling hips were any indication, he was holding back big time. 
“Ominis,” you murmured, forcing him into you harder with your legs, and the drawn out groan he let slip reflected his need all too well. “Come on, Ominis, please. I can take it.” 
“Fuck–” he blurted, his tempo faltering for a second before he braced one of his hands beside your head to once again pull nearly all the way out. When he snapped his hips forward again, he filled you with a hard thrust and ground into you so fiercely, the friction against your clit made your spine round off the bed with a keening moan. 
His gentle, easy pace fell away– his breath fanning warmly against your cheek as he kept up his firm, grinding thrusts. By some impossible miracle, you felt a familiar heat building in the pit of your stomach, your pleasure being drawn out of you for the second time all too easily. You were still overwhelmingly sensitive from earlier, and it allowed you to feel everything Ominis gave you even more vehemently. 
Ominis elected to drop his hand from your cheek down to your clit, rubbing tight, titillating circles over the nub as he continued spreading you open on his cock, and your scratchy voice filled the room as you threw your head back to wail for him. It felt too good– too perfect. You didn’t even know such euphoria existed, much less that your boyfriend could bestow it upon you so thoroughly. 
“Gods, I can feel you– are you close again?” Ominis buried his face in your neck to whine against your sweaty skin, barely maintaining his rhythm any longer– just desperate to feel you around him. “I’m so close– fuck.” 
“Yes, yes,” you croaked, wanting so badly to wrap your arms around his shoulders and curl around him like a second skin, but the rope around your wrists denied you, and your arms ached from the position they’d been left in for so long. “Me too– please Ominis, please– me too.” You threw your head back with a gasping cry as Ominis bucked harder into you, his hands grabbing and pulling at you as your combined sounds spiked higher and louder the closer you got. 
When Ominis finally came, he sank his teeth into the marred expanse of your shoulder, biting down to stifle the string of curses that threatened to spill from his mouth. The sharp pain intermingled with the burning pleasure between your legs, and that was as much as you could bear before you were falling over the edge with him. 
Ominis’ body tensed, his hips grinding into you as you twitched and gasped under him, and the rich feeling of him emptying deep inside brought you to new heights you’d never experienced before. He spent an ample amount of time just whimpering against your pulse, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tight to him. His lips parted on a soft moan when you held him back best you could using your legs, and he brought one hand out from under you to follow your shaky arms up to the headboard. You felt a telling tug on the rope around your wrists, and in a heartbeat Ominis had expertly undone the knot that tied you to the bedframe. 
As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him, the appendages were practically useless. You felt pins and needles dancing down your shoulders, which didn’t do anything to help with your hyper-sensitivity. But all in all, you’d never felt so satisfied in your fucking life, and you turned your head to press your lips against Ominis’ messy head of hair graciously. 
He shuddered at the feeling, lifting his head to gaze affectionately in the direction of your soft breathing. “Are you alright, love?” 
You hummed contentedly and nodded, flinching ever so slightly when you felt Ominis slide out of your overstimulated walls. He bent down to claim your lips in a heated kiss, chasing away any lingering tension in your body as he ran his hands down your sides dotingly. 
“You were so good for me, darling… so well behaved. You sounded so pretty falling apart on my cock,” he whispered his praises against your mouth, making you whimper, and you felt his expression twist into a smug smirk against your parted lips. “No more secrets, though. The next time you want me to fuck you senseless, you need only ask.” 
You agreed embarrassingly fast, vowing to forever voice every last whisper that crossed your mind from this moment forth. Especially if it meant garnering treatment like this more often. What other sinful secrets was Ominis hiding from you? 
As sore and achy as you were, a very big, very shameless part of you seriously couldn’t wait to find out. 
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scoonsalicious · 10 months ago
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Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.
Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic
"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.
Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.
You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.
"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."
You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"
"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.
Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."
"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."
You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"
Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.
Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.
"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.
"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.
"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."
"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.
Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark  was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly,  whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.
The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.
So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.
"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."
Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"
"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?
"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."
You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.
Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."
"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.
"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."
"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.
You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."
"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.
Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.
"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.
Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle. 
Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.
He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.
But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.
Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.
"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.
But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.
"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.
"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.
Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.
"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."
"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."
Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.
"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.
"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"
"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.
"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"
"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."
You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."
There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.
It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.
"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."
"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."
Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.
You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."
Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."
You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.
Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.
Next Part ->
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tashism · 16 days ago
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need to know all ur thoughts about tashi. all of em
omg okay OKAY OKAY okay…….
here’s my mini list of head cannons both sfw and nsfw
stanford!tashi is such a mean top but in the very playful way. like makes you gag on her strap and just giggles a little, hand under your jaw trying to get you to go deeper and making fun of you the whole time. “c’mon, i thought sluts like you were good at this kinda shit”
2019 tashi is much softer with a girl (imo) than she’s ever been with any man, letting you lay on top of her, your arms wrapped tightly around her torso, her hand carding through your hair almost reverently.
2019 tashi is also in desperate need of some sort of stress relief, practically falling over at any little touch you give her, her body begging you to touch her and kiss her and coddle her for once in her life.
stanford!tashi is the world’s most possessive girlfriend ever — hickeys are her favorite thing in the entire world. she’s not a big pda girl, but she’ll never take her hands off of at least some part of you, especially around art and patrick. and the second you’re feeding into whatever little flirting they start with you? you’re dragged back to her dorm in a heartbeat, bent over the side of her bed and grasping at her sheets as she eats you out almost feverishly, smacking your ass and your thighs and your cunt, scraping her nails over your back as she tells you just how dumb you are for feeding into the boys’ little game.
sugar mommy!tashi is evil in the best way possible. she’s already been divorced, the last thing she needs is some twenty-something wasting her time and money. she makes sure you’re on top of your classes at uni, barely even giving you attention until you’ve finished all your work. it doesn’t matter if it’s due in two weeks, the last thing she wants to deal with is a desperate, stressed out college girl. working you on the court every day for hours at a time, not letting up until she thinks you’ve had enough. . the praise is worth it though — more than worth it. getting her much sought after “good girl”s and nights spent riding her face until her jaw hurts. brand new clothes and shoes and perfumes, a new racket and shit, if you pass all your finals (“pass” as in tashi’s definition of pass, which is a solid 90 and above)? a brand new car all for her perfect girl.
vamp!tashi is the most perfect angel ever. sorry! yes, she has the normal edge that every other vamp!au has, but i just feel like she’d be the most adoring girl in the whole world — you’re her little soft spot. cooing at you while she holds your face in her hands, squishing your cheeks a little and kissing up your nose and around your cheeks. the “god, i could just eat you” thing always sounds a little too literal, but you trust her more than anyone in the entire world. i also kinda feel like she’s a bottom…….. LISTEN!!! she’s spent her whole life being the outcast but when you finally come around and don’t run for the hills she’s just a mush for you. melting the second you get her on her back, being the first person to show her how good she can feel, her hands laced through your hair and manicured nails digging at your scalp.
that’s what i have for now but there are def more i can think of. okay bye
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ebonyslasher · 8 months ago
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Hello! May I request a black noir x supe!reader where the reader is secretly apart of The Boys. Also maybe where the reader manages to get black noir to safely before Homelander can come and kill him? Maybe the reader finds out from hugie (pretty sure he was there when solder boy told Homelander he was his dad?? Don’t really remeber though) that Homelander found out that solder boy is his dad and probably going after black noir? Please and thanks!
Hey! I made up the supe powers for this specific situation since you didn't specify.
Span is from a couple of months before season four to after.
The Almost Last Moment
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After years of trying and IVF treatments, you future mother finally got pregnant. During early first trimester, your parents selfishly allowed doctors to inject compound V in fetus that formed into you. You were born their literal miracle baby. However, the only power that was apparent was your slight super strength when you were a toddler. Hoping for much more, they were disappointed.
As you grew, your true powers developed. The most exciting power that your parents were actually proud of was your portal making. Admittedly, it was fun jumping to and from anywhere in the world. Especially when you got some birthday money. What 10 year old wouldn't transport themselves to the candy store?
Another ability that you had was tying your aura to another. How they felt, what they felt, and why they felt would flow into the channel that you picked at. You could form the channel with anyone, but it was strongest with emotional attachment. However, if someone felt emotions strong enough, you didn't need a connection to feel them. Your parents didn't care too much about that one, but you thought it was useful.
The idea of being a supe was entertained for about 3 months out of your entire life. Your parents, although not sincerely encouraging, wanted the taste of fame and auditioned you for...well you didn't really know. All you did know what that your powers weren't "popular" aka not profitable enough to be on the forefront. Forget about being a part of The Seven. They offered some ads since you were pretty, but you declined. It didn't feel right, the commercialization of heroes.
Your parents were disappointed in your decision. Their standoffish behavior after pissed you off. If being a hero was just brand deals and politics, then they could do it themselves, since they wanted it so badly. Distancing yourself from them as an adult, you decide to stay low, attempting to live a normal life. The disappointment you had in other "heroes" furthered after observing the way they treated non-supes. So, it was no surprise that you joined The Boys after seeing a supe kill someone just to heighten their coke high.
The little rag-tag group had some interesting characters. What was very interesting was the allies they had within The Seven: Starlight and Mauve. The latter you had briefly met, along with A-Train, at your audition years ago.
Although The Boys represented powerful and much needed justice for non-supes, the work and aura was quite overwhelming. Needing an escape, you began volunteering at animal shelters in your free time. It made you feel good and wholesome, and gave you some much needed space.
This is where you, surprisingly, caught Black Noir's attention. He would go to the shelters to volunteer himself. It looked good for his image and he got to see cute animals. Black Noir noticed you coming in frequently and he became enthralled with your beauty and compassion. Every time you were there, he was there watching from afar. He came up to you one day and stared you down before lightly petting the bunny in your hand. It was...quite awkward to say the least. Him silently doing this and then abruptly leaving.
A nearby worker made an off hand comment that he comes in every week to spend time with the animals, sometimes showing them to children. How sweet. The next time you saw him, you approached, butterflies forming in your stomach. A beautiful relationship blossomed from there.
Although The Boys and The Seven's relationships was in hell, your relationship with Black Noir was heaven. God, he was perfect. Black Noir was such a gentleman. So polite, sweet, and dorky. His awkward habits were downright adorable. It pained you to keep your tie to The Boys a secret. It was apparent how loyal Black Noir was to Vought. You wished he wasn't so loyal to them. It'd make your job a whole lot easier with taking Homelander down.
As the relationship grew deeper, you couldn't help but blend your aura with his. This man is so damn stable. He would flicker through many emotions, like all humans did, but dealt with them head on. He was never afraid to feel things through. You were a bit jealous, but pleased he was emotionally healthy.
His stability was pretty consistent until you felt a sharp pang of paranoia, fear, and dulled pain one day. It shocked you into worry, immediately calling him. He never picked up. You continuously call and to no avail. This feeling of your own panic swept your legs to look for him, but...you couldn't find him. You tried your best to tap into the aura to locate him but the anxiety and paranoia severely dented your focus.
Not long later, Hughie and Butcher continued their escapades with Soldier Boy in hopes of finding his old teammates. You jumped up at the opportunity to join, stating that you'd be useful with your portal ability. Thankfully, they allowed it. It was during the fight with Windstorm when you felt a stronger pulse from the connection. You silently wandered off, using a portal to his location.
You find him, coming out of an abandoned building. Before you could call out, he leaves with quick determination. You try to catch up, deciding to silently follow him. Some time later, he walked right into Vought. Damn. You couldn't just walk right in. And you needed to get back to Butcher.
Your portal led your way back to the team just in time. You used your powers to help Soldier Boy kill his old teammate. Hughie turns to you with a questioning look but you trudge forward so he wouldn't ask anything.
It's an hour or so later when you decide to break into Vought using a portal. You stepped through, tapping into the connection to see how Black Noir felt. He was hopeful, happy, and focused with an underlying thrum of worry. Your shoulders relaxed as you finished stepping through the portal, into the hallway near a conference room. You see some movement and decide to peer around the corner. It was Black Noir and Homelander.
Homelander was speaking to him, going on about how he was able to see through the mask Black Noir had. How he knew what emotions Black Noir was feeling and what he looked like. As he started to speak about him having a father, you could feel some odd emotion welling up in the atmosphere. It wasn't coming from Noir, as you quickly tapped to check. It was coming from Homelander. The feeling was strong, with the air of slight sadness and animosity building quickly as he approached Black Noir. Homelander grabs onto Black Noirs' neck gently and asks,
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He makes this weird grimace and those intense emotions move onto new heights. You knew something bad was going to happen. You start to move when you see Homelanders' free arm move back. Quickly, you create a small portal. Homelander's hand goes through to portal instead of Black Noir.
Black Noir quickly looks at you and you book it towards him. With all the strength you could muster, you kick Homelander back. Putting yourself between the two, you create a portal behind Black Noir. You propel yourself back, bringing Noir with you as you both fell into the portal. You quickly close it as soon as Homelander almost flies through.
You're a mess of pants before you turn to Black Noir. He looked to be in a state on disbelief. You grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. Breathlessly you said, "Just in time...Earving."
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thedarkestrivernymph · 3 days ago
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Yandere! Kidnapper
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warnings: captivity, forced infantilization, nonconsensual themes, physical violence, drugging, collaring, stalking, dead dove: do not eat
—becomes increasingly more unhinged, lowkey inspired by a disturbing manga I accidentally read twice, so take that as you will.., so yeah that's my last post of 2024, happy 2025 people!
©Copyright -2024- thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved
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Y! Kidnapper that hunts you through the forest and tackles you to the ground after an escape attempt only to scold and berate you for every little scrape on your body, as if it wasn't his fault in the first place, as if you're just too clumsy for your own good.
Y! Kidnapper that never would do anything sexual without consent, but doesn't take no for an answer when you tell him you don't want him to bathe you—you are his, so of course he will rub you clean, even the spot between your legs.
Y! Kidnapper who tells you his entire day, everything, as if you're his lifeless oversized doll, only to pinch your nipples whenever he asks a question, daring you to answer and enjoys your torment in staying quiet and pliant for him
Y! Kidnapper who sits you down, clips even your toenails for you, kneads your sore muscles from doing nothing all day, carries you everywhere, doesn't even let your feet catch callous from walking on them, only to treat you absolutely diabolical in bed, branding each inch of skin he took such good care of either with his hand, a belt or whatever he gets his hands on..
Y! Kidnapper who's obsessed with providing warm meals for you, the highest quality ingredients are used—everything to accommodate your sensitive gut, only to drug you out of your mind and giggle while doing nothing else but cuddle you while watching TV and popping chips in his mouth, all while commenting on the script of the particular horror movie he’s watching and listing thousand of things he would've done better than the director
Y! Kidnapper who before capturing you was the weirdest fucking stalker in existence— openly groping you, offering you food with a smile (mind you he’s a complete stranger???), appearing in front of your doorstep at night to holler at you, banging his fists onto your door and actively breaking in only to stare at your sleeping form while jacking off. Did I also mention he would email you like you're his secret rendezvous? Oh and he went along and introduced himself to your whole family with a fake identity over email (like—wtf is whatsapp?), hahaha..
Y! Kidnapper who wants to control every single aspect of your life—from how you pluck your brows to when you're allowed to use the restroom. Will literally stare you down with a hand on the chain connected to your collar, that he forced on you after your latest escape attempt, while you're pants are pooling at your feet and you’re trying to pee. (Why? Because the window is a few feet away..)
Y! Kidnapper from who, let's be honest here, you will only ever escape in death and that will probably be in old age, with how well he takes care of you, having baby proofed his home enough to ensure that you couldn't hurt yourself even on accident and don't even think about using a razor! he will do that for you, just sit down in the bathtub, all drugged out of your mind, dumb and drooling, losing touch with reality, while he does everything for you
—just be his passive little kitten he declawed, and that's enough for him, just dependent on him and he will paint your cage gold, even if the paint will chip away one day
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emeritusemeritus · 19 days ago
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AHH HI! i was hoping i could request some weasley twins (mostly fred) Christmastime headcanons?
Hello my dear! Your wish is my command, hope you enjoy!🖤🎄
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{Christmas Headcanons}
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Fred
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He’s a last minute shopper, joining in with the frenzied crowds on Christmas Eve having left it all to the last minute to get gifts for his entire family. But somehow, to your constant amazement, he always manages to find good presents that no one ever seems to realise had been purchased mere hours before.
The only people he truly cares enough to think about ahead of time for are you and George. He and George made a pact years ago that they wouldn’t buy anything extravagant for each other but instead treat Christmas as a time to find the most obscure, strange or hilarious item to exchange. You inevitably get dragged into this year after year, sometimes as early as autumn to keep an eye out for the most bizarre things you could find.
Despite his natural prankster nature, he usually chooses very sentimental and beautiful gifts for you, never caring for the price now he had some money in his pocket, even despite your protests of keeping the budget small. A necklace with your favourite gemstone and the date you started going out, a limited edition print of your favourite book, a non-aesthetically pleasing but nevertheless thoughtful hamper of the snacks you’d discovered on holiday with him years ago that weren’t available in London- but of course Fred had found a way.
He longed for that moment when your face would light up and you’d look at him with a face of pure surprise and adoration. He’d give you his widest grin and open up his arms for you to jump into, proud and if not a little smug that he’d once again nailed it.
Absolutely cannot wrap a gift to save his life. There’s an equal amount of wrapping paper and tape used on each present and somehow it still doesn’t work, even on the easier and cleanest of square gifts. After the year he got fed up and used tin foil from the kitchen, you took over wrapping for him, unable to see his loved ones suffer through unwrapping his monstrosities anymore.
Christmas is a time for complete, unadulterated joy and should not be done by halves in Fred Weasley’s opinion. The tackier the better, the bigger the better and the word ‘minimalist’ in relation to Christmas is a personal slight against him. Tinsel? Beautiful. 1000 string lights? There’s still room for more.
Though the Weasleys had very little money for extravagant christmases when he was young, it had been a time that he’d adored for as long as he can remember. The food, the lights, the music- all of it could be unbeaten.
Cannot cook a single thing. He’s happy to let you take the reigns on this one and failing that, he’d treat you to Christmas dinner out at your favourite restaurant so that you could just enjoy the day without spending all day in the kitchen.
Loves muggle Christmas movies and would watch them religiously every year. His favourite is Christmas Vacation and would quote it multiple times during the season, even though most of the wizarding world wouldn’t have a clue what he’s referring to. Little full, lotta sap.
Christmas crackers are his absolute favourite thing. He loves to mess with the seemingly simplistic brand that Molly buys every year by inserting mini pyrotechnics and other surprising ‘gifts’… like the one with the enclosed, spring loaded boxing glove that Fred ensured Ron was on the receiving end of. He was particularly proud of that one, even if he did get a lecture from Molly.
George
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George Weasley underneath his vivid hair and fun loving prankster character, is a simple man. He loves his family and revels at any chance for them to get together and Christmas is the perfect example of that. The smells and the sights, the delicious food and the sense of magic in the sentimentality of the season are the reasons why he loves it so much. Unlike his twin, George likes a laid-back, simple Christmas with year long traditions to look forward to and a nice peaceful break (after the season-long chaos of owning the busiest shop in Diagon Alley).
Again in stark contrast to his twin, he’s a natural planner and likes to think ahead of gifts for his loved ones, starting late November until he’s done by mid December, leaving the stress of Christmas behind him.
Has a natural talent for wrapping gifts and they somehow always come out looking professionally wrapped, even if the bows and paper don’t always match.
His gifts are always thoughtful and personalised to the recipient but sometimes he blurs the lines of something you need becoming much too practical, his logical mind taking over. You mentioned that your feet were cold around him? You’re getting multiple pairs of socks that year, all anaesthetically pleasing in very practical colours. Your vacuum isn’t working right? Here’s a new one! Not the most exciting gift but it’s perfect, right?
Sometimes misses the mark slightly but it’s okay because it’s the thought that counts.
Surprisingly a really good cook and would have no difficulty whipping up a perfectly timed Christmas dinner with all the trimmings without breaking a sweat. He’d researched recipes for weeks and had tried out many of the different techniques in the weeks prior to ensure he finds the very best method for the big day.
Hates being cold. It’s one of the reasons he never minded getting the handmade creations of scarves, hats and jumpers from Molly because at least they kept him warm.
Secretly dreams of a Christmas somewhere warmer, just for one year, though he’d be worried that it just wouldn’t be the same and so he never risks it and stays at home.
Had a lethal right arm when it comes to snowball throwing, making him the most sought after team player in all the Weasley family snowball fights.
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dsireland86 · 5 months ago
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I Fucked Up
Had a quick idea about the picture above. I've seen this photo so many times, and it always leaves a sad impression on me. Hopefully now it won't. ☺️
Tags: @foliosgirl @xxkittenkissesxx @thefallennightmare @lma1986 @philomenie @concreteemo @reyadawn
It was just a fight, right? You'd be back once the dust settled, and you had cooled down some. You always did.
Folio stood there in the glow of the red exit light, eyes still glued to the door after it had slammed shut moments ago. You walked out, finally finished with the lame ass justifications and excuses he'd been giving you since last night. It was just a party, you told her. It was just a fan. There were no feelings attached at all, but that only seemed to make the situation worse. She said she saw enough, heard enough, and now.... finally felt enough.
It's not like he slept with the girl. Didn't even come close to it. It's just that between the weed, the alcohol, and the mood, Folio allowed the girl, who'd been overly friendly since she and her friends showed up at the after show party, to do a little more than he expected her to do.
Noah and Jolly always told him he was a little naive when it came to women. But that's why you loved him, why the two of you connected the moment you met. She wasn't like all the other girls, and you weren't like all the other guys.
Folio fucked up. Bad. Panic rose in his chest, and his mouth suddenly went dry. His hands that still held his drum sticks shook with fear over the idea of losing you. What he did last night with that girl as she sat comfortably on his lap; the kissing, the thigh grabbing, the way she ran her hand over the one and only thing that belonged to you, squeezing and massaging it in hopes to achieve the result from him that she wanted, but couldn't... because it wasn't you. Only you knew how to make him cum in your hand.
Folio was losing you. Fast, and he couldn't function properly to figure out what to do next. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of not having you as his. You were his world, his stability, the love of his life.
Pulling the little black box out of his pocket, Folio wiped the escaped tear away, staring hard at the box as if would tell him what he should do, but he heard only silence. That's when the emotional anger took over. Balling his hand into a tight fist, Folio threw a hard punch at the wall, putting a large dent with a small hole in it. "Fuck!" He looked down at his knuckles already bleeding.
"You know, that's coming out of your paycheck."
Folio turned around to see Matt standing behind him, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall.
"Fuck! I'm sorry, Matt. I shouldn't have done that." Folio apologized, running his good hand through his wet hair to get it out of his eyes.
Matt shrugged, moving away from the wall towards Folio. "Yeah, whatever. The guy running this place is a fucking dick anyway." He grabbed a napkin off the snack table on his way over, taking Folio's hand and applying it to his bloody knuckles.
"I fucked up, Matt. I fucked up so bad. There's no way she'll marry me now if she feels like she can't trust me." Matt could hear the panic and fear in Folio’s voice. Honestly, even he was a little surprised by Nick's behavior last night, but was willing to believe his friend's admission more than she was at this point.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Folio. She has a tendency of surprising people. Remember when she first started hanging out with us, and Nicholas accidentally dropped his entire cup of coffee all over her brand new white leggings because of the cat he saw that was about to get hit. Dude, Noah and I thought she was going to freak the hell out, but instead, she took off running with Nicholas after that damn cat. In the end, they were laughing hysterically."
Folio laughed at the memory. It was the same day he asked her out on their first date. He'd walked into the bathroom while she changed, but instead of yelling at him to leave, she told him to stay since he'd already seen her underwear. That's when he kissed her for the first time.
"What about when we went bowling, and Stephen dropped the 11 lb bowling ball on her foot?" Folio wrinkled his nose remembering how bruised her foot got after that. "A few moments of choice words under breath and two shots of spiced rum later, she made sure that Stephen didn't feel bad about it and eventually the two of them were so drunk, they were singing their own karaoke versions of Bad Omens songs." "Holy shit, that was so horrible."
Matt and Folio shared a few moments of a good laugh. Folio found himself a little more hopeful that maybe this could turn out better than he thought. Maybe.
Matt patted Nick on the shoulder and removed the napkin from his knuckles. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but slight bruising was already starting to show.
"That's going to definitely make playing a lot harder." Folio shrugged. "My punishment." Matt raised an eyebrow. "Your ass is grass if it fucks up my front of house." Folio chuckled. "Anyway, Noah’s with her. He took her to the roof of the bus and is just sitting with her." Folio sighed, but the tension returned.
Noah hopped down the ladder, his long legs reaching the ground a lot sooner than Folio’s would have. "What the hell happened to you?" Folio looked down at his knuckles. "The wall and I had a fight," he answered pathetically. Noah scoffed. "Who won?" Folio held up his hand, showing Noah the bruising and partially dried blood. "Apparently, the wall." Noah chuckled.
"She's hurt, man. Her heart," Noah shook his head. "She's really trying to understand what happened and not be upset with you. She loves you more than anything else, and she knows you love her too. That's why none of it makes sense to her." Folio nodded, indicating he understood. "What do I do, Noah? How do I fix this?" Noah took a deep breath, sighing. "If I were you, I'd be completely transparent. Tell her exactly how you feel, whether you think it's important or not. Right now, she's in protective mode. Her guard is up, and it's going to take a lot of talking and understanding to help her get past this. But," and Noah laid his hand on Folio's shoulder, "she's vulnerable and is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you, Nick. You're her world. You mean everything to her. That's why this whole thing hurts her so badly. She just needs to know she's safe." Folio nodded again as Noah patted him on the back.
She looked like a shadow sitting all alone up there in the dark. The soft breeze of the night ripped through her hair, causing some of it to flutter in her face. Folio couldn't see it, but he already knew how beautiful she looked. "Now, that's a view," he said, sitting down next to her in the spot where Noah just was. He looked out into the darkness, at the bright lights of the city that lit up the night like the sun. She didn't respond to him in any way, just continued to sit there in silence. From the lights of the city, Folio could now vaguely see the outline of her face, those same features that he would gaze at often while laying next to her in their bed. Her button nose, her pouty pink lips, her soft cheeks, they made his heart flutter, and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss each one. But Folio knew better. She needed her space.
They sat in silence for some time. Folio placed his hands alongside him, stretching out his legs. The slight breeze brought a chill, and he saw her shiver. "Are you cold?" he asked, not expecting her to answer, but she slowly nodded. His heart began to race. "Do you want my hoodie? I know you," "Yes, please," she said quickly, cutting him off. Folio almost slipped off the bus from shock. Regaining his balance, he quickly removed his hoodie and slipped it over her, hearing a satisfying sigh. "Better?" "Better," she whispered.
Feeling overwhelmed with fear, Folio knew he had to address the situation head-on before it was too late. "I fucked up. I know I did, and I'm sorry. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt us. I was just caught up in the fucking moment and I, shit, I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you, for breaking your trust in me, for making think or feel the wrong things.... fuck, I'm sorry." Folio hung his head, placing both hands on either side of his head. He couldn't hold back the little bit of tears that escaped and dripped onto his black jeans. His shoulders shook from the pain he was feeling inside, knowing that nothing he said or did was going to fix what was broken. It was over, and he knew it.
She sat quietly, listening to Folio pour out his heart to her. His apology after apology hit her heart each time like an arrow, piercing the thin layer of anger and pride that had already begun to grow. She knew, without a doubt, that Nick was sorry for what happened, and if she was being completely honest with herself, she was blowing the whole thing a little bit out of proportion. Folio had managed to stop it before it went too far, even though Noah had to step in and help a little. He never touched the girl inappropriately even though she'd managed to run her grubby paws over the one and only thing that could make her weak as fuck and bring out the porn star side of her. Just the thought of someone else trying to stake a claim on what belonged to her infuriated her. Truth was, she wasn't as mad and upset at Folio anymore now that he'd been honest with her and admitted he'd messed up. She guessed maybe that was the only thing her heart needed; to hear Folio apologize and admit he was wrong.
"Thank you." Folio stilled at her words. "What?" he asked, raising his head and staring at her, confused. "Thank you," she repeated, this time turning her head to look at him. His heart fell to the pit of his stomach at just the sight of her beautiful face. God, he was so fucking lucky. "Thank you? For what?" Folio sniffed, sitting up straight as she climbed into his lap. What the hell was happening? She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, placing her hands on either side of his face. Folio kissed the pads of her thumbs as she ran the back and forth over his lips. "I'm so confused, baby. What are," but his words were cut off by the pressure of her lips against his. The hunger and need Nick felt in just that one kiss was enough to set his world on fire and his nerves ablaze. He fucking wanted her, needed her like the air he breathed. She grinded against him slowly, up and down with her pussy centered right on top of his cock. Whatever was happening, Folio wasn't about to stop it.
"I just have one question, and then we're never talking about it again." The seriousness in her eyes was paralyzing. "Alright. What is it?" Folio asked, swallowing hard. "Would you have fucked her?" "No!" "Why not?" Folio grabbed her hips and pulled her closer into him, loving the slight whimper of a cry he heard in response. "Because she wasn't you, sweetheart, and you're the only one my dick belongs to." His eyes darted between hers, long and hard, until finally she smiled, and after one look at his lips, she kissed him again. Folio allowed her to take full control, using him for whatever she needed him for, because no matter what, he knew she loved him. Her fingers unhurriedly found his belt buckle, and he helped her undo it the second he felt her tug on it. She undid his jeans and pulled them along with his boxers down, lifting his ass up just enough for her to get them to his ankles, where he was able to toss them off.
"Mine," she said, taking Folio’s semi-hard cock into her hands. She wrapped her hand tightly around him and began her magical work of bringing him to the edge of sanity with just the use of her hand. "Oh, my god baby," Folio moaned, leaning back on his hands and throwing his head back, sighing at the feeling. Her fingers pinched his fully hard tip while her thumb spread the pre-cum that seeped from the tiny hole it worked open. This was his Achilles heel. Whether she was using her fingers or her mouth, only she knew it was the quickest and fastest way to make him cum. But that thought was ripped away the moment she removed her hand from him. The sudden loss made him whimper.
Innocently, she stared at him, searching his eyes for something. "What, sweetheart, what are you looking for?" He used a hand to caress the side of her face. She didn't answer, just continued to stare as she pushed her shorts and panties to the side. Holding two fingers up to Folio’s mouth, she told him to spit, to which he willingly obeyed. Using his spit as lubricant, which utterly wrecked Folio, making him wonder how in the fuck he deserved a woman like the one that was about fuck him on the roof of his bands tour bus, she aligned his hard cock against her heated aching pussy and slide herself onto him, biting her bottom lip as he pushed himself in, stretching her like it was first time, again.
"Goddamn, sweetheart, holy fuck!" She never broke eye contact with Folio, even as her pace quickened a little. "Fuck, ughh god baby you feel fucking amazing," he moaned quietly, holding her tightly against him so he could feel every inch of her soaking wet walls. "You're so wet, baby," he panted, already feeling the effects of her tight pussy clenched around his throbbing dick as she continued grinding, nice and slow, on him. "You're hiding something from me. What?" Her question startled him, but it didn't surprise him. Folio knew she could always read him like a book. She stilled with him still buried inside her. "Reach inside the pocket," he told her, eyeing his hoodie she was still wearing. She did as she was told but froze the moment her hand hit the box. "Pull it out." Her gaze was heavily laced with apprehension. "It's okay, just pull it out," Folio encouraged her. She did. The little black box sat perfectly in the palm of her hand.
"Nick," she gulped, her voice trembling. "Open it." Tears filled her eyes, but she bravely opened the box and gasped at the small yet stunning silver diamond ring. "Marry me, please." Folio licked his lips nervously, unable to keep his own tears away. The way she gazed at him made Folio think she was about to say no. She looked from him, to the ring, and then back to Nick. "Okay." Folio swallowed, clenching his jaw. " You will?" He was afraid he didn't hear her right." But she nodded her head. "Yes! I'll marry you, Nick." Without realizing it, Folio released the breath he'd been holding. Taking the small ring from out of the box, he slipped it on the ring finger of her left hand, bringing it to his lips where he kissed it, then placed it against his chest. Without another word, she began moving against him again, this time harder and faster, pulling Folio towards the edge quickly.
"God you fuck me so good baby." Folio whispered the harder she grinded her pussy against him. "That sweet little pussy belongs to this dick, doesn't it?" She nodded quickly. "Holy shit baby, yeah, right there, don't stop. Oh fuck." Folio squeezed his eyes shut, his entire face twisting in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the pressure of release became strong. "Fuck me harder baby girl, you're gonna make me cum!" He clenched her hips tightly, moving her back and forth on him to get her a little deeper. Her lips found his, devouring him as she tasted and the inside of his mouth with her tongue. He pulled her top lip between his and sucked right before pressing his tongue against hers and fighting for dominance. "Fuck yeah baby, right there, shit!" She grabbed his face between her hands and locked him in a deep dark stare. "Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me." Her soft tone and warm whispers was all Folio needed. "Ughh, god- fuck!" Folio bit down on one of his good knuckles, spilling his release inside her and coating her inner walls with his seed. They were both out of breath, panting and hearts racing. She stared at the ring on her finger, unable to stop smiling. "You like it?" Folio asked, finally catching his breath. She looked up at him with a smile. "I love it," she replied, looking back down. Folio could tell she was fighting more tears. " Hey, come here, sweetheart." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping her up tightly with his arms; the place where she always felt the safest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you." She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. I love you, and I forgive you. It's over now. Let's move on." Folio agreed as she laid back into him, still looking at the ring.
"I owe you," Folio said, catching her as she jumped down off the ladder. She grinned, thinking about what Folio did whenever he owed her. He always made up for it in more ways than one. "You bet your ass you do," softly slapping him in the chest. "I might have a few ideas that I know will please my fiancé." Her face lit up with the word. "Fiancé!" Jolly's voice rang out. Folio held up her left hand to show him. "About fucking time, dude!" Jolly exclaimed, giving Folio a hand slap with a hug. "Happy for you, man." "Thanks, Jolly." Folio focused his eyes on her, smiling at the happiness that graced her face. He never thought his fuck up would've led to this, but it did. And now he was the happiest he'd ever been with the only girl he loved.
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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 months ago
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Little random, but you've answered asks about Disney Princess movies before a while ago.
What are your thoughts on Frozen and Anna and Elsa?
Thoughts on Frozen
People like it, but to me it's a thoroughly "ok" film. It's far from Disney's best, not one of the worst, but sort of middle of the road. The plot's a giant mess and was clearly subject to last minute revisions (Hans's sudden villainy comes across as so sudden that it fails to make the point it was trying to make. It wasn't necessary, as the point Elsa makes isn't invalidated even if he wasn't evil and Anna still could have dropped him at the end. And we just get this "YOU FOOL, DIDN'T YOU KNOW I WAS THE MUSTACHE TWIRLING VILLAIN ALL ALONG?!" To which I can only say, "No, Hans, I didn't know that, kind of makes that scene where you left the castle to look for Anna personally very pointless. Nobody would have questioned you, dude." It makes a lot more sense when you consider Elsa was supposed to be the antagonist/misguided in initial drafts and the then desperate need for somebody to be the bad guy.)
Tangled, by comparison, is a much more put together film and in my opinion is much better, but it didn't have a hit song sung by Idina or Anna's adorable nerdiness and Elsa's general angst.
So Frozen gets to be the beloved film for over ten years on, rejuvenating the Disney brand for another generation, and I just have to sit there and take it.
(Perhaps a hot take, I'm not tuned in enough to know, but I thought Frozen 2 was much better as a film in general, much more put together/hard hitting, though it had far less memorable music/the big numbers just weren't as good. It's also a lot more hard-hitting, with none of the comedy and very little of the narrative of empowerment.)
Anna and Elsa
I do like these two and they're very believable characters who do go through character development that feels very real.
In Anna we have an isolated, awkward, young adult who is convinced that 'love' will save her, doesn't know where she stands with what was once a beloved older sister, and when she fucks things up tries to fix it without really addressing the issues she had in the first place until the very end of the movie.
She's fun, she's relatable, if short-sighted and naive, and it's clear that she does have to learn something from her adventure, and that she really didn't understand her sister and what she was going through.
In Elsa, we have someone who has been under immense pressure her entire life while also knowing that she has this terrible secret which means she will never live up to what she has to be to rule a nation. She ends up isolated from her younger sister out of terror of hurting her, which damages their relationship, and she too has growth where when we first meet her in the film, she sees coronation as only a one-day event she has to simply get over with as quickly as possible.
She's also a very relatable character, her struggle is something that speaks to a lot of people and has been iconic for over a decade for a reason, and she's refreshing in that her problems despite being a female lead have nothing to do with men and a man never enters the picture for her.
Even her moment of "WHEEEEEEEE I'M FREEE!" to Anna arriving and "NOOOOOOOOOO! ALL MY ACTIONS HAD TERRIBLE CONSEQUENCES!" is a great one as Elsa is only then really forced to confront both herself, her loved ones, and finally accept who she is by the end of the film.
TL;DR
Basically, I like both characters and I think people really like them for a reason.
But I do think the movie's a hot mess.
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