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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

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Type of romantic gifts they'd give you

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]

Wyll

Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.

Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.

A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.

Karlach

Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.

Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.

Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.

Gale

Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.

A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.

Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.

Shadowheart

Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.

Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.

Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.

Astarion

Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.

The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.

Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.

Laezel

Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.

Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.

Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.

Halsin

Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.

You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.

Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.

Minthara

jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.

Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.

The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.

Karniss

Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.

Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.

Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.

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zumicyt · 9 days ago

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Billie comforting reader after reader has a long and bad day 🥺🙏

thank you so much for the request baby!! also yes yes yes!!!

safe place ● b.e

pairing: billie eilish # fem!reader

contains: FLUFFFF, Billie being an amazing girlfriend, overworked!reader, stress, comfort.

summary: lately work has been overworking you and billie feels like you need a break.

it was raining outside. the dark clouds were hiding the majority of the sky and stars. soft music played from the radio of your car and you were trying your best to take deep subtle breaths. you were almost fired from your job today because you had forgotten to bring some important papers that you had been working on for weeks. your boss yelled at you and told you to go home. it was now 7:32 pm and you were on the verge of tears. work has been so hectic lately and all you wanted now was your girlfriend.

you open the door of yours and Billie's shared apartment and shark runs up to you and licks your face. "Hi sharkie!" you tiredly say and take off your sneakers. you don't see billie anywhere until you hear large footsteps against the wooden steps. "Hi baby!" billie runs up to you and hugs you tightly. she senses a change in your behavior and cups your face. "What's wrong my love?" she sweetly says. at that point you can't take it anymore. "I can't billie. I'm so done." you say through tears and she shushed you and hugs you tightly. "I know baby. I know. Come on, let's go lay in the bed." you nod and follow your girlfriend into your shared bedroom. she gets you a fresh pair of pj's and changes you. she constantly checks on you to make sure your okay and it melts your heart. she picks you up and lays you gently into the giant bed. "now tell me baby, what's wrong?" billie plays with your hair and waits for your response. "I've told you, work has been so much lately and I almost got fired today for not keeping up with some important papers and I know it's my fault but still. then I was getting yelled at by my coworkers because I came into work late and I just couldn't do it anymore." you start tearing up once again and she hugs you. "I'm sorry honey. c'mere." you dig your face into her neck and inhale her sweet scent. she runs her hand through your hair and the other draws shapes on your back. "lets run you a shower okay?" billie gets up and begins a steamy shower for you. she picks you up and undresses you. you get into the shower and she starts washing your hair and massaging your scalp. she gets a few body scrubs and runs them over your body. you feel so relaxed in the moment and start getting sleepy. after your shower billie dresses you in your pj's and lays you down for bed. she pulls the velvet covers over your body and kisses your head. "i love you my baby." she whispers and walks out of the room

you wake up and look at the clock on your phone. 5:16 pm. you stretch your shoulders and look around for Billie. she's not here. you get out of the bed and put on your house shoes and walk downstairs. you see billie in the kitchen making something and humming to music. you go behind her and hug her. you feel her smile and interlocks your hands with hers. "did you sleep well?" billie asks and you just mumble. she giggles and pulls you to hug her properly. she peppers kisses all over your face and you both start to giggle. "what are you making?" you ask. "cupcakes! wanna help?" you nod instantly and she hands you a mixing spoon to mix the batter. after that is done she puts the tray in the oven and takes your hand to the couch. you both sit down and she starts scrolling the TV to find a movie. you settle on Spiderman No Way Home and wait for the cupcakes to finish. you hear the beep coming from the oven telling you the cupcakes are done. you and billie decorate the cupcakes with blue icing and start eating them. billie ends the night with cuddling you on the couch and whispering sweet things into your ear.

#billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #fluff fic #wlw #zumicyt's rambles

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ayyy-pee · 1 year ago

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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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druidwolf21 · 3 months ago

Text

Some soft fluff because what a day I've had and I need this lol

Roboute guilliman/F reader

fluffy

Very short but I needed this out

Dreaming

Guilliman swept a hand across his brow, wiping sweat and grim from his face as he looked up at the sky. The sun beat down heavy on him as he blinked and smiled, returning his gaze to his work.

His muscles worked and burned as he set about scything ears of corn, bringing them down with a long swing. The scythe felt heavy in his hands as he swept it back and forth, focusing only on the heat, the feel of the wood and the soft noise as the plant fell.

And he worked

And worked

Until the sun began to slow edge down.

Taking a long inhale he finally stood straight and stretched, his back cracking after hours of bending. He flexed his hands and smiled at the dull ache he felt.

Making his way through the raining stems, he headed towards the wooden cabin resting at the edge of the field, a soft warm glow flicking in the window and faint smoke spiraling from the chimmney.

His smile stretched further and he ducked through the door and was met by the smell of fresh warm bread the heat of a smokey wood fire and the faint bubbling from a large pot hanging over the flames.

You spun round, your dress twisting around your legs as you met his sapphire eyes and grinned, face still flush from the warm meal you had been cooking.

"roboute! Just in time my love, have a seat and I'll get you a drink" you patted your hands on your apron and collected up a glass and pitcher, setting it at the oaken table and pouring out a drink.

Guilliman sighed gently and sank into a chair, sipping from the glass. The wine was sweet in his tongue as he watched you flitted about the kitchen, filling a bowl with stew and gently placing it in front of him, along with a wedge of still warm bread.

You stood behind him, dropping your arms over his neck and nuzzling up to him, your hair tickled him as rested his head against yours.

"you work so hard, my love" you murmured "perhaps tomorrow the land can wait and we can go to the lake" a slender finger gently traced circles in his chest as you spoke. "I'll even wear that blue dress you like so much"

He twisted and caught your lips in a chaste kiss as your began to pull away.

"of course my lady, I could think of nothing I'd like more"

You gently ran a hand through his blonde hair before taking a seat at the table.

My love

My. Lo o v e

M y L o

My lord

Guilliman jolted slightly and scowled at the voice that dragged him so violently from his revere.

"what, sicarius?"

"The mechanicum have sent a serf to deliver some documents to you and an official from the high lords has also requested a moment of your time"

Guilliman rubbed his brown and gathered his thoughts.

"your lady is also at the door, lord Primark"

Guillimans head shot up and he rose from his seat

"Send her in" he waved to the marine.

You entered through the massive doors, your dress, that blue dress he loved so much, sweeping the floor . Your hair speckled with small shining stones which caught the light as you moved towards his desk. A delicate necklace chain hung from your neck, depending to your cleavage, the ultramarine sigil bouncing on your skin.

"roboute, my sweet, don't you think it's time you took a break" you sighed gently, laying a hand on his as you finally reached the desk.

"the imperium waits for no man, love, not even me" he smiled grimly, eye darting from the necklace and where it hung, up to your face.

You caught the look and smiled

"perhaps we could go to the lake? It's been so long, things will run without you for an hour? You gently kissed his cheek and pressed your forehead to him.

The Primark returned your smile with a dazed look.

He couldn't tell if this was still a dream, but hopefully this one didn't end.

@cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @beckyninja @lemon-russ @moodymisty

#primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #warhammer x reader #roboute guilliman #roboute guilliman x reader #roboute guilliman/reader #if you want tagging please let me know #fluff

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sodapopwrites · 2 months ago

Text

a ballad of flame and shadow part four

pairings - lucien vanserra x rhysands sister!reader, azriel x rhysand's sister!reader.

summary - When she falls into another length of darkness after the events of Calanmai, her, lucien, and azriel all look back on past memories.

word count - 3.5k

a/n - oh my god. this is a long one and azriel is so down bad. i'm so sorry. i love writing him pining and upset and not knowing how to deal with his feelings. i swear it'll get happier. not soon maybe. but eventually. also shout out to the rest of the inner circle who have to deal with these two's bullshit.

read the rest of the series here!

“She doesn’t want it”

His stubborn words to Cassian interrupted his every thought. There was a strange truth to them.

“He doesn’t want this. Not now.”

He wasn’t supposed to hear that. It wasn’t for him. But the confession in her words haunted his every movement. It was her truth that she had disguised as his. She couldn’t do this. Not now. He was right. In some sense he was right when he told Cassian she didn’t want the bond. He tried to relish in that. In that small victory over Cassian. But it never stuck.

When. When. When. When.

It was all he could think. When would it be okay to tell her? When would the weight of it not crush her? When her brother returned? If he ever did. It had been too long. Rhysand had been gone for far too long. He feared that the damage done between them was something even the high lord couldn’t fix.

In the days after Calanmai she had tried. Tried to go back to whatever normal her and Azriel had built. Tried to continue to let herself sleep in his arms. Tried to let his easy warmth spread through her. But she couldn’t. Not when that golden thread threatened to snap in place every time she drew too close to him. Not when she let herself once again fall into a spiral of guilt.

“It wasn’t enough”

Lucien's rage followed her back to Velaris. His curse a weight on her shoulders. A burden she unnecessarily chose to bear. And Azriel watched as she let darkness consume her just as she had done when Amarantha had first taken over. He knew that darkness well. He was forged from it. He let her withdraw from him and he let himself be consumed by memories of before.

Starfall the year before Rhysand had gone under the mountain. The year before Amarantha’s party.

Azriel’s gaze had not left her once since she entered the room. Her dress, a blue so dark it was almost black, sparkled with a thousand cobalt diamonds, they hung from her dress like glittering drops of rain. He tried not to think too hard about the color choice. Tried not to notice that the diamonds draping her form glittered the same blue as the siphon laid over the center of his chest. Tried not to wonder if it was a conscious decision on her part. Her hair flowed down her back in a cascade of midnight curls. He watched her eyes glitter, reflecting the light of the stars twisting through the sky above. Everything about her effervescent, bright with life. He wanted to drown in it. Instead he held himself back. In a corner of the room. Let his shadows curl around his chest protectively. He stopped himself from going to her, from reaching out to her. Her eyes finally found his, twinkling with a mischief that sent sparks through his entire body. His shadows circled tighter.

She crossed the room and stopped in front of him, smiling like she knew a secret she wanted desperately to tell him.

“Why is it that during every party I always find you skulking in some corner?”

A smile played at the corners of her lips as he shrugged half heartedly.

To keep myself from pulling you into the nearest room and consuming you whole. That’s what he wanted to say. But instead he held his facade of indifference. It didn’t deter her this time though.

“You’re too beautiful to hide yourself away you know.”

She was teasing. It was clear enough that she was teasing. It had to be. But when he held her gaze for a moment too long after her compliment she blushed and sipped her drink in an attempt to hide the flush of her cheeks. Maybe there was some truth to it.

“More beautiful than me?”

Cassian’s voice cut through the tension of the moment. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes at his friend's intrusion. Instead he scoffed and received an offended look from the Illyrian general.

“Aw Cass. You’re pretty too.”

Now that was teasing. She laughed as Cassian clasped his hands over his chest as if he’d been stabbed.

“Why is he beautiful and I’m pretty?”

“At least I didn’t call you the funny one”

Cassian rolled his eyes.

“I am the funny one”

Azriel’s eyes flitted between the pair in front of him. Slightly amused.

“I’m funny”

His voice was soft and only a little defensive. Cassian let a hand fall to his brother's shoulder and offered him a look laced with mock sympathy.

“Oh Azriel. You are many things but funny is not one of them.”

She tried to muffle her snort in another sip of her drink. Azriel looked to her, asking for some sort of defense. She gave in immediately.

“Maybe you’re just not bright enough to pick up on the subtleties of Azriel’s humor.”

Cassian scoffed at her comment and looked her up and down, “Nice dress. Those diamonds.” He let out a low whistle before sparing a quick glance at Azriel’s siphons, “They look awfully familiar.”

Azriel watched her closely. Waiting for her response with a new found intensity. She only shrugged before saying,

“I like blue.”

Cassian’s eyes were filled with mirth as he watched the shadow singer's eyes rake over her body, over the glittering diamonds. He knew exactly what Azriel was wondering, he was wondering it himself.

“Any particular reason why?”

He was baiting her. If there was one thing Cassian loved to do, it was bait the pair before him into a conversation about their unspoken feelings for eachother. She brushed the question off and turned entirely away from Cass, looking now only at Azriel.

“Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a request. Azriel pushed himself off the wall and let himself take the hand she had outstretched to him. He let her lead him to the dance floor. Let himself wrap his arms around her and hold her closer than he ever should have. He let her wrap her arms around his neck. Her fingers playing gently with the hair at the nape of his neck. The touch sent a shiver down his spine. He swayed them gently to the music and only let himself look away from her once. He saw Cassian and Rhysand watching the two of them dance, snickering to themselves. He shot them a quick glare before returning his focus to her entirely.

“What is the reason why?”

His question came out as a hoarse whisper. It sounded much more desperate than he meant it to. She looked up at him. Knowing he was asking the same question Cassian had asked moments ago. She let her eyes fall to the siphons adoring him, and then back up to his face. She gave him a small smile.

It was the only answer she could let herself give. The only answer that didn’t outright tell him she searched for small pieces of him everywhere. In every color, in every star, in every scent and feel. She searched for small pieces of him to carry with her. The only bits of him she ever dared to allow herself.

Azriel's eyes were closed. Clamped shut. Trying desperately to hold onto that memory. He shouldn’t let himself look back, not after those days had been gone for so long. But he had to. It was all he could do to keep himself from following her into the endless haunting night she had resigned herself to.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

Lucien had grown quiet and more brooding since his encounter with her at Calanmai. He sat down at the sprawling lunch table with Tamlin. The high lord of Spring court’s gaze was fixed on his friend. He stared at him with a nervous concern.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Lucien looked at him blankly before shaking his head.

“You’ve been sulking for months, ever since the Rite, you’ve been just…”

Lucien continued to stare at him.

“...Well dare I say unpleasant.”

Lucien sighed deeply. He pushed his food around his plate before responding,

“Too bad you’re stuck with me forever. Or until Amarantha finally decides to kill us.”

Tamlin let out a low growl. His patience stretched thin by the ginger’s foul mood. By Lucien’s lack of hope for their situation. Lucien bristled at the sound of it and stood up, excusing himself from the meal, and walking briskly out of the dining room. He made his way back to his room and sat on the corner of his bed. He let his head fall into his hands and he rubbed at his eyes.

Regret flooded through him. Regret at the way he had reacted to smelling the shadow singer on her. Regret at the way he had made his resentment all too clear to her. Regret that he hadn’t embraced her or kissed her while he had a chance. He wanted it all back now. Everything they had before.

She had come to him the evening after Starfall under some pretense of work. She always came to him as if they had something serious to discuss, and she always let it devolve into an easy flirtation.

They lay beneath a willow tree, far from the manor, so no one would know of her presence. Lucien propped himself up on one arm to look at her. She was bathed in the orange light of sunset. Her eyes closed and her breathing slow, as if she was sleeping. His hand came to the side of her face and he slid it from her face, down her neck, and to let it rest on her shoulder. He traced lazy circles across her skin, letting his fingers swirl farther across her skin, over her collar bones and dangerously lower. She hummed at his soft touch and opened her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Admiring you”

She smiled. The expression almost sad. Her eyes searching his so deeply it was like she was almost looking for someone else. He didn’t let it faze him. That expression was one she held often, and he chalked it up to having to hold the secret of the exact nature of their meetings. He cleared his throat.

“So what exactly is the business you had to discuss with me?”

His tone was light and careless as he leaned closer to her, waiting for her response.

“Mmm. You know I can’t really remember”

He let a wicked grin spread across his features, “Oh no?” His hand traveled farther down her body and she arched into his touch.

“Must not have been important.”

Her voice wavered as his hand continued its exploration. He brought his lips to hers. She chased him as he pulled away and there was a clear amusement in his tone as he said,

“How disappointed your brother would be.”

She tried not to recoil at the statement, “Interesting time to bring up my brother.”

“I’m just so sure he’d hate what this meeting has devolved into.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

She pulled him back to her lips, trying to kiss away every mention of her family. Of her complete lack of professionalism. Guilt laced her every movement against him.

God maybe she had been right. It was all he could think. Maybe she had been right. When was he ever not concerned about her family? About where she came from? Why else would he be so secretive about his affections for her? It wasn’t fair to her. To hold that over her. But he never seemed to be able to help it. That deep seated mistrust of the night court and all it held. Those it held.

He wanted it all back. He wanted her back. Maybe he could let it be different. Maybe he wouldn't have treated every moment with her like a distraction from her. From what she was. Who she was.

He pushed his palms further into his eyes. The sharp pain of it sent some relief. An escape from memory.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

She stopped herself from seeking Azriel out constantly. Stopped herself from going to his room when nightmares sent her hurtling from sleep. Stopped herself from going to dinner just to sit next to him. Instead she spent her days traipsing to Amren’s apartment, much to the general annoyance of the silver eyed female. Or training with Cassian. She avoided Mor with everything she had. Not wanting to answer the golden haired female’s questions. Always about Azriel. Always about why she wouldn’t just tell him what he meant to her.

She couldn’t let herself deal with it.

She sat in a plush chair that resided in the corner of Amren’s apartment. Amren was reading some ancient text and ignoring her as best she could.

She sighed. It was probably the fourth time she had let a gust of breath fall past her lips, all too audibly.

“Oh good lord. What?”

Amren’s voice was laced with annoyance.

“Nothing”

“Just go talk to him”

“No”

“Stubborn girl”

She looked at Amren, opening her mouth to spew some defensive excuse. Amren spoke before she could.

“So Calanmai didn’t yield the results you hoped for?”

It was the first time anyone had brought that night up to her. She curled into herself now. Amren narrowed her eyes,

“What exactly were you expecting from him?”

“I don’t know”

“What did you want from him?”

She thought about it. What did she want from Lucien? What did she want to happen when she snuck off to the bonfires of Spring Court.

“Comfort”

Amren clicked her tongue and shook her head waiting for the high lord's sister to try a different response. A more honest one.

“Fine. Not comfort.” She paused, “Distraction I guess.”

Amren gave her a small nod, “From Azriel.”

Not a question. A statement. One that made her raise her hands in defense and shake her head.

“No. From everything. From…from everything.”

Amren studied the girl before her. Her gaze held the truth. It was a distraction from Azriel. A small use of the fox to distract her from the golden pull she feared so deeply.

“What exactly are you so afraid of?”

Amren’s voice was softer now, her best attempt to be sympathetic.

“That he only wants me now because soothing some part of my pain, of my guilt, lessens his own.”

“Are you really so blind?”

She seemed a little surprised by Amren’s question. She quirked an eyebrow waiting for her friend to continue.

“He doesn’t only want you now. Use your brain for once. Look past the darkness of the last few years and let yourself remember.”

That was all Amren said before turning back to her book, shutting her out once more.

Let yourself remember.

When she returned from Spring Court, the day after Starfall. When she had slid into her seat beside Rhys at the dinner table. She avoided eye contact with everyone as she always did when she returned from a tryst with Lucien. She tried to make herself small enough that no one would notice her. It didn’t work. It never did.

“Any news from Spring Court?”

Rhysand kept his tone even. But asking the question simply to remind her that he knew exactly what she had been up to. He watched her deflate a little before lifting her head to respond to him,

“Oh you know. Roses in bloom. Flowers….Usual spring stuff.”

Cassian let out a small laugh at her lame attempt to play it off. Mor narrowed her eyes,

“Spring stuff?”

The judgment in Mor’s tone was evident.

“Yeah spring stuff.”

She started to eat. Still avoiding the gaze of everyone. Especially the shadow encircled male sitting at the end of the table. But Mor pushed the subject further.

“Why him?”

She shrugged. Really not wanting to talk about this.

“Why not one of your own?”

She looked up at this. Stared at Mor’s implication.

“One of my own?”

She didn’t miss the way Rhysand’s eyes flickered towards Azriel. Didn’t miss the way Azriel shifted in his seat and let his shadows unfurl, hiding him somewhat from her sight. The insinuation simmered in her stomach as she shook her head and continued eating. But after a moment of silence, a moment where everyone’s eyes were still on her she said,

“The only people I’m ever around are you guys.”

It was Cassian that spoke up now,

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

There was humor in his voice, as there always was when everyone ganged up on her. A small part of him enjoyed watching her squirm. Okay a large part of him.

“Not a bad thing. Just a vaguely annoying one.”

She stood up from the table, not able to bear it anymore. The judgment. The way Azriel wouldn’t look at her. Everytime she came back wreaking of Autumn and flame, he couldn’t bear to look at her. Couldn’t bear to be more than a couple feet away from her. As if he didn’t want to even be near the faint whisper of someone else on her skin.

She swept out of the dining room and shut herself in her room. She ran a bath. Scrubbing herself of any trace of Lucien Vanserra. She let the warm water encompass her. She sank into it. Letting her head sink beneath the surface. She held herself under water.

The way Azriel’s shadows came around him in a shield of defense everytime anyone mentioned their names in the same sentence together. The way his eyes lingered on her when he smiled, as if her joy could prolong his. The way he trailed close behind her like he wanted her every footstep to be filled with his own.

She couldn’t breathe. She let the thought of him consume her. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her. A chant. A reassurance.

She’d been in love with him for too long. She’d wanted him for too long to no avail.

He was too beautiful. Too powerful. Too important. He didn’t want her. He was too loyal. He wanted her happiness the same way he wanted Rhysands. He didn’t want her. He wanted to serve his highlord and he wanted to keep the inner circle safe. That was why he guarded her. He didn’t want her.

She couldn’t breathe.

She rose from the water. Taking deep calming breaths.

A short knock came at the door of her bedroom. She closed her eyes bracing herself for some dull and vaguely mocking lecture on taking her duties more seriously from Rhysand. She wrapped her robe around her and headed for the door.

It was not Rhysand. When she swung open the door. Azriel stood before her. He took in her wet hair and the way the robe clung to her damp skin. He swallowed once. Refusing to let his eyes drift from her face. She cocked her head in question. He pulled something from his pocket and held it out to her.

A necklace. A thread thin silver chain with a small cobalt diamond dangling from it.

She stared at it. She remembered her dress from the night before. Remembered the way his eyes lingered on the dangling gems. Remembered the soft questioning of their color. She looked up at him, at the shining cobalt siphons he always wore.

She gently took it from his outstretched hand letting it dangle from her fingertips. A small piece of him…from him. Offered up willingly.

“I uhm” His voice was low. Nervous even. “I thought you’d like it”

He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her. The chant racing through her mind as she tried to come up with something to say. Instead she looked back down at the stone of the necklace. No. Not stone. The same glass that made up the siphon on his chest, on his hands, on his shoulders. A small piece of him.

A nod was all she could muster.

She was still looking anywhere but at him. He cursed himself silently. Maybe this was stupid. Giving her this. Maybe it was too much. Too obvious. But as he watched her leave the dining room. As he let Mor’s comment about her settling with one of her own and Rhysand’s immediate look towards him sink in. He had to do it. As soon as dinner ended he had excused himself and had retrieved the necklace that he had been saving for her. That he had debated giving to her for years now. He had let his feet carry him to her room. Had decided that he had to try. To give her some wordless notion of his feelings.

He pulled the necklace from her fingers and motioned for her to turn around. She did so without question. She let him lay it around her neck, let him clasp it, let him brush his fingers so so briefly through her hair.

She looked towards Amren once more. Letting her words wash over her again at the memory.

“He doesn’t only want you now. Use your brain for once. Look past the darkness of the last few years and let yourself remember.”

Maybe he had always wanted her. The thought made her pale. She shoved the feeling of the golden thread in her chest down. She couldn't do this. Couldn't let herself hope when everything seemed so hopeless.

When?

She didn't know.

#azriel x reader #acotar #lucien vanserra x reader #cassian acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #rhysand #morrigan acotar #bat boys #amren acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #night court #the inner circle #a court of thorns and roses #azriel angst #azriel x oc #azriel x you

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xuchiya · 5 months ago

Text

"As long as with you" || jeong yunho

| genre: fluff. fluff. fluff | mentions: dislike. rain.

your entire body shakes when you see clouds form and grey hues were amongst them. you have been a total rainy weather kid from the beginning, you were thrilled to be under the heavy or light rain, just to feel the coldness of the water drop down from the sky.

"yuyu~ it's gonna rain! it's gonna rain!" if an imaginary tail can be seen, yunho would have noticed how it swishes side by side, excitedly. He can hear from the couch how you were squealing when the sky rumbled while he crumbled deeply on the cushion.

you seem to love the weather; yunho seems to be the opposite. He threads to it. He does not like how the blue sky disappears behind those thick grey clouds, it's like consuming the entire world with its darkness.

Now, yunho does not fear darkness nor the weather, it's just not soothing his taste. He likes sunshines, he likes when the sun creates a blissful feeling that it calms him down that he will see this again tomorrow, the very next day and everyday.

“Here it comes!” You cheered, sliding the window door open. The wind immediately greeted you, making the curtains sway beside you. Unbeknownst to you, Yunho stood up quickly before you could step out and enjoy the rain, he had closed it shut, shutting down your excitement.

Staring, then blinking at the sudden actions of Yunho, “Ah-Ah Yunho?”, you were so blinded by excitement it took a while for you to notice his pale face. Your eyes widen. Completely abandoning the rain plan, you sat Yunho down on the couch.

You run a hand on his hair while your other hand circles his palm, “Oh Yunho~” He shakes his head, “No no, I’m okay darling. I’m just scared you’ll hurt yourself out there.”

You smile at him, squeezing his hand, “Of course I won’t but I know that is not the only thing that … scares you.” Yunho does not like talking about his dislike of rain. He didn’t not have any phobia of them nor traumatic childhood memories, it’s just the way it is scary that he won’t be able to see the bright blue sky again.

Shakily, Yunho nodded, “I do not like rain. I never like them, maybe because they rain too hard they cause so much calamity in places or because they pour down so much that it makes me hope less and less that this will be my everyday mood and I do not like it.”

You were unaware of his dis-likeness towards the weather you loved so much, maybe because you grew up loving the only weather that sent calmness around you. The sun is your enemy, you hated how hot it was, how it burnt your skin and almost dried all your favorite plants and flowers planted on your backyard yet by the looks of it, Yunho loved the bright sunlight.

It took a minute, between you two, you just realized how opposite you two were. Hence Yunho being portrayed as the golden retriever and loved absolute sunshines, they were also scared of things too. They retreat to their spots that calms them down.

Taking his hand again, urging him to stand up, “Come on.” Yunho was confused until he was dragged inside your shared room and dressed him up in a raincoat, a bucket rain hat. You took off his socks and plunged them into soft rain boots.

You giggle, “So cute.” before taking him back towards the sliding window door that Yunho eyes widen, looking at you then towards the rain. You giggle running outside to which you howled and jump, watching as the rain drench from your head down to your feet while he stood still inside.

His heart thumps but then he realises that there’s nothing to fear. It just dawned on him, he did not like the rain, you do not like the sun yet here you both were loving each other despite resembling both you do not like. Yunho loves you despite liking darkness while you love Yunho despite loving the breeze sunshine.

Opposites do attract but they worked out.

As Yunho slowly urges himself to step outside, he removes the rain hat as he takes a step out of the door, removing the boots before he unbuttons the rain coat before running outside. The cold raindrops fell on his cheeks, the wind blowing on his drench skin yet it tickled him.

You turn around when you hear a giggle, your eyes widen when you see Yunho— not wearing all of the rain coat set; rather you watch how the water had drained all of the dryness of his clothes. The rain poured down on him, his hair was sticking to his forehead yet it made him more beautiful.

“Yunho— EEK!” You felt your stomach leaning on his shoulders as he placed you there and spun around. You hold onto his shirt while you chuckle, “Yunho!”

You dance, run on the streets, laugh and giggle. You never thought Yunho would overcome his own dis-likeness towards rain this fast. He seems to enjoy it as much as he loves the sunshine. You were distracted with the thought of him when you felt a warm hand on your waist and pulled close to a broad chest, looking up Yunho is already smiling on you.

“Care for another dance darling?” You chuckle, placing your arms around his neck. Swaying gently even with no music, Yunho leads you to dance rhythmically. You look up at him, to catch him already staring softly at you.

“What?” He shakes his head, leaning down to chase a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away, “I think I found my new favorite.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side, “What is it?”

He looks up, the raindrop slowly splitting on his face and cascades down to his neck before gazing at you, pulling you close to him, “As long as I’m with you, I love the rain.”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez yunho #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho fluff #jeong yunho #ateez jeong yunho #jeong yunho fanfic #jeong yunho x reader

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e-dubbc11 · 4 months ago

Text

Scars

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma, attempted kidnapping, fluff, smooches

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Billy comes home while you’re taking a nap, he notices a scar on your ankle and wants to know the story of where it came from

A/N: I found this idea online somewhere. I needed a little help with new ideas and this caught my eye. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The weather outside your window changed quickly from the early afternoon sun immersing the surrounding buildings in its warm light to it disappearing behind the fast moving gray clouds that swallowed up the bright blue sky.

“Where did the sunshine go?” You said out loud to yourself from your penthouse perch, gazing down at the busy city below.

This time of year could be quite unpredictable as far as the weather goes. Late summer was still very hot, sometimes less humid, and could get a little cool at night into the early morning. But also the sun could be blazing in the sky one minute and the next time you looked outside, your once blue sky was now fully covered in dull gray clouds, ready to rain down on top of you.

And then you heard it, the sound of light rain tapping against the window as you gathered everything you needed to give yourself a relaxing home pedicure. You had the bubbling and warming foot spa, the lavender bath salts, moisturizing lotion, and all of the tools you needed.

Soaking your feet after a long day at work felt wonderful. The hot water bubbled under the balls of your feet, massaging away the stress of your day. As you inhaled sharply and let out a forceful exhale, your shoulders relaxed and your eyes closed, tuning everything out except the rhythmic sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Hopefully, you will be finished before Billy comes home.

**********

Faintly, you could hear the rain drumming against the roof. Earlier, that sound had lulled you to sleep and it was also the first thing you heard as you were starting to stir. After painting your nails, you told yourself you were just going to close your eyes for a minute while they were drying.

An hour later, you didn’t even hear Billy come home.

The strong scent of nail polish hung in the air as he walked through the door. Billy called out to you but you didn’t hear him.

“Baby?” He said softly.

No answer.

Meticulously, Billy put his things away…his keys, jacket, gun. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt sleeves so he could roll them up to his elbows. He followed the scent of nail polish to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway to briefly watch you while you slept.

Outside, the sky was gloomy and overcast but inside you were his bright spot. You were the warm afternoon sun that danced across his face and made him smile after his dismal ride home.

Billy carefully walked over to the bed, looked at your newly painted toes and smiled because you had painted them black, his favorite. They shined like patent leather even in the dimly lit room. Your hands were resting on your stomach and he watched as your chest rose and fell gently with every breath you took.

He committed to memory the way you looked at that moment, the soft comfortable shorts you were wearing, his hoodie that you constantly stole from him to keep your arms warm, and he loved the peaceful look you had on your face while you slept.

When he looked closely at your ankle, he spotted a triangle shaped scar that he had never noticed before. Billy thought he had memorized every inch of your body but he didn’t remember if you had ever mentioned how you got that one.

Reaching for you with his agile fingers, he lightly and slowly traced the outline of your scar, while desperately trying not to wake you. Billy had a very light touch but between the rain and the slight tickle you felt on your ankle, your eyes gradually fluttered open.

A sly smile stretched across your lips as you looked down and saw him tracing the scar on your ankle.

“Whatcha doin’, handsome?” You asked.

Before turning his head to look at you, Billy smiled and replied, “I was admiring your fresh pedicure when I noticed this scar and I don’t know what it’s from, I thought I knew every mark on your body. Why don’t I know about this one?”

Billy’s tone was somber and his lips pulled back over his teeth like he was upset that he didn’t know all about your scar.

“It’s just an old bicycle injury, Billy. It’s not a big deal.” You replied and shrugged at the same time as you tried to conceal how nervous you were.

Billy brought his gaze up to yours, his endless brown eyes looked like two black ink wells and the muscles in his jaw tensed when he asked about the scar.

“Tell me, my love.” He said with an uncomfortable smile, almost like he knew it wasn’t JUST an old bicycle injury.

“Billy, I don’t know—“ You had started to say before he interrupted you.

“Just tell me what happened, sweet girl.” He said calmly. “It’s ok.”

Trying to smile, you sat upright in bed with your back resting on the headboard. It had been a long time since you had thought about that day.

It was around this time of year, late summer, the sun was high in the sky so it had to have been around lunchtime or a little after when you were outside playing with your brother and your cousin. You were probably around 11 and the three of you were getting ready to ride your bikes back home from the park where you were playing.

You were the oldest, it was your job to watch out for the younger ones, so you let them ride up ahead of you. Once they had turned onto your street, you felt immense relief that you were almost home and that’s when you sensed a car slowly pull up behind you.

And then you heard that voice.

“Hey sweetheart, you lost? Anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?” He had said with an evil smile.

“Pretty…” Billy hated that word. As you looked over at him, he had clenched his fist, his face was flushed with rage, while he gripped the blanket on the bed so tight that you thought he may rip it.

You couldn’t recall what the man looked like when he called out to you but you do remember his voice. It sounded like he did nothing but smoke cigarettes all day, it was deep, scratchy and made your skin crawl, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Nervously shaking your head, you said, “No, I’m fine.”

Your heart was leaping out of your chest and you felt the sweat on your brow about to trickle down your forehead when you decided to make a run for it. When you forcefully pushed down on the bike pedal, your foot slipped and you ended up slicing your ankle on the jagged teeth of the pedal which is when another man jumped from the car and tried to grab you.

But you managed to pedal as fast as you could to catch up to your brother and your cousin who were waiting for you around the corner from where the man tried to grab you.

They didn’t follow you and you never saw them again but the memory always came back when the scent of clove cigarettes was in the air, or heard a deep raspy male voice, or felt someone walking behind you.

It was something from your childhood that you never spoke of again until now, not even to your brother or your cousin who were with you that day. And you’ve been looking over your shoulder ever since.

Knowing what Billy had been through as a young child, your entire body tensed watching him seethe with anger. His cheeks were flushed and you could hear him grinding his teeth while still tightly gripping the blanket in between his fingers.

“Billy? Say something, please.” You said, breaking the silence.

He gently kissed the scar on your ankle and crawled from the foot of the bed up to you, pulled you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. His heartbeat pounded against your ear as you melted into his arms and closed your eyes.

“You don’t look over your shoulder when you’re with me, baby.” He said in a slightly confused tone.

You pulled away to snake your arms around his neck and look into his eyes.

With a warm smile, you replied, “Being with you is the ONLY time I don’t look over my shoulder, Billy. Because I know they’d have to get through you to get to me.”

Billy gently pressed his lips to yours which tasted like peppermint. His shoulders relaxed a little as he smiled back and said, “I’ll never let anything happen to you, sweet girl. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

After finally telling someone your secret, the weight of that secret had finally been removed from your chest and you could breathe a little easier now. Your terrifying childhood experience that had been kept inside all of these years was finally out in the open but you were ok with it.

“I love you.” You said in barely more than a whisper as your eyes welled up with tears. “So much, Billy.”

Billy just smiled, lightly brushed his knuckles against your cheek, and kissed you again before saying, “I love you too, sweet girl. And I’ll pay to have that scar removed, just say the word and it will be gone.”

In that moment, you felt so loved, so seen, and understood. All he wanted to do was make sure you were happy, that you were ok, and he would do anything for you to make that happen, even going as far as paying to have your scar removed.

“Oh Billy…that’s so sweet. But my bike probably saved my life, and yes, looking at that scar reminds me of that day but I’m very thankful for that bicycle and the mark it left on me…literally.” You said, trying to smile. “Thank you, my love.”

Although your experience wasn’t the same as Billy’s, he knew it could have been so much worse for you than it was but that didn’t make him any less angry about it. Your only wish was that he had been able to escape his worst nightmare also.

He knew what kind of real life monsters existed in this world and that he may never have had the chance to meet you if they had taken you. You were the person that understood him the most and loved him for exactly who he was. He didn’t even want to think about what his life would be like without you…but he’d never have to.

“Well, if you ever change your mind…” Said Billy, pulling you tight to his chest again.

You would always be there for each other, for love, comfort, or just to listen.

Relaxing into his embrace, you kissed him on the neck, and said with a smile, “I know, baby…I know.”

It felt good to finally let go.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @ittybxttykxttytxtty

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you

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wayfayrr · 6 months ago

Note

Here is the menace with Falling Star. So gather 'round, sit back, relax and please stay in your seat. Kick your feet up and grab some popcorn. Oh, and of course, lest we not forget, enjoy the show.

Here we go with a person from afar. Is as old as the stars and travels from world to world this is Lumine!Reader.

They are really old but nobody can exactly say how old as they look like 16 to 17 and are 158 cm tall.

They normally go by the name "Traveller" as they hide their real name, but since the Chain already has a Traveller.

They took the name "Viatrix".

Their Constellation is called "Viatrix" which means Traveller in Latin.

They have a twin brother, Aether. They are actually inseparable but they got separated by a unknown god named the Sustainer of heavenly principles.

Their abilities also got sealed.

They are a fabulous swordfighter and with their twin they are an unbeatable duo as the cover each others blind spots. But they are stronger than their brother.

From the two of them they are the rational but friendly one.

They are always collected and serious and they will say if they don't like something. They are the calm one of the duo.

But they also the strategist and would be a great detective.

But they love to explore and climb around, even Wild would be surprised how fast they can climb mountains even when it rains, they use their elemental energy and gloves to have a better grip.

But they have to take more breaks then their dear twin brother.

They can dive and jump out of the water like a dolphin and even jump from the water onto land and immediately attack if they have to.

They wouldn't be the most affectionate person and if someone got their heart they would hug and kiss their partner occasionally but not all the time.

They also cook very often, mainly because of Paimon, their guide in Teyvat, as she is always hungry. But since then they began to love cooking.

Reader has chin-length except for two locks of shoulder-length hair framing their face. They also have two light-blue Inteyvat flowers pinned on the right side of their head and two pale blue feathers tucked at the left.

They wear a sleeveless, backless, box pleated white tunic like dress-shirt, which is on back longer than by the front. It's held up by crossed black straps. They wear a long two-tailed scarf, with each tail having a gold, flat diamond-shaped ornament attached to the tip of the tail.

Their legwear consists of angled thigh-high stockings and white ankle-high boots.

They can use different elements, Anemo(Wind, Geo(Earth), Electro, Dendro(Plants) and Hyrdo(Water) as they met the Chain.

Their Song is "Dream Aria" from IONIC.

Reader learned about Yandere Chain and their first escape attempt.

Reader's PoV:

I woke up as Paimon shook me awake and as I looked at her she was covered in blood and looked terrified! I took her in my arms and looked around but only Sky was sleeping beside me in his bedroll.

„When did he change his place? Wasn't he beside Wild over there?“ I thought to myself and looked to the space by the other side of the campfire and me, where Sky laid before.

I stood up with Paimon and walked with her to the river nearby to wash her. She was shivering in fear. I've never seen her like that. We fought multiple monsters and people on Teyvat, so why was she so scared? As I got her out and dried her gently with Anemo she literally stuck to me like glue.

„Paimon, what's wrong? You look like you seen a ghost.“ I looked at her and she has tears in her eyes but she pshed me.

„Don't so loud!! They may hear us!!“ Paimon whisper-shouted at me so I looked confused at her.

„Who Paimon? Who could hear us?“ I whispered back but Paimon just looked at the camp and I understood what she wanted to say.

„The group? What have they done Paimon?“ she pointed into a direction and I sneaked to the direction and saw Wolfie eating bones, human or hylian bones.

The others of the group looked at him and gathered the bloody clothes. They put them in a fabric bag but they were also very bloody if I see through the reflection right. Paimon hid her face in my shoulder and I held it there. Then Wolfie turned into Twilight?! I had my suspicions but never thought I was right. So I sneaked back to the camp.

„Are you crazy!? Why are you going back there!?“ she whisper shouted at me

„I need to get a sword they took mine for "maintenance" probably to make me defenseless!“ I said back and looked around the camp for a sword but the only one here was the Master Sword.

So I tiptoed to Sky and pulled the sword out of her sheath. As I got her I began to sprint into the opposite direction of the group.

„Wait, what about Sky? He is in danger if we leave him there with these lunatics!“ said Paimon worried but scared.

„No, he is one of them. Do you remember as everyone except for Wild went for "hunting"? They never came back with anything of the forest. No squirrels, no deer, no boar or even a bird, but they came back with a meat that was from a horse?“

„Is that why you said we shouldn't eat it!? You thought it was a person!?! Eeek!“

„Well not really, at first I thought they tried to poison us as we are not from Hyrule. I thought they saw us as a threat. But now I know they wanted us to help to get rid of the evidence.“ I explained everything but then Paimon jumped... Uh... floated higher in fear

„But they have Wolfie... Uhm Twilight... Uhhh... They have someone with a good nose! We will be discovered in the matter of days!! Or hours if they are back already.“

„That's why I look for mud. If we cover ourselves with it our scent will be overridden by the mud and he will not know where we are!“

„Good, Traveller. Paimon is scared...“

„I know Paimon. But don't worry, I protect you! I will get us back to Teyvat! I will find Aether! And never return to Hyrule!!“

„Who taught you to speak their language actually? Paimon is curious.“

„It was a knight in-training back then. Aether and I taught him some fast moves with the sword and he taught us his language. His name was "Link" like the boys back there.“

„Do you think they are related?“

„I think, it's more like they are his reincarnations. This eyes... I never forget how he looked at us and how they sparkled when we showed him something new. They have a part of him, I'm sure but thanks to their journeys and upbringings they developed differently than how he was.“ I sprinted more as I saw a mud pond and jumped in with Paimon.

I just bathed her but that doesn't matter right now. Our survival was more important than hygiene right now. I bathed us in mud before taking Paimon and ran into another direction but still away from the camp and the group. I just wished I had my abilities, if I had them I could fly away easily. But now I had to avoid all villages, towns, people, guards and especially the royals and the heroes. If one of them sees me, they will find us and I can't accept that! They scared Paimon to death!

„Spirit of the Sword, I know I'm not a hero of this world, I know I'm not even Hylian or from this world, but please, help me to flee from your crazy wielders!“ I thought to myself while the sword started to emit a blue glow and I saw multiple beacons in the in the horizon, but only I am able to see them as Paimon couldn't see them.

„Thank you, Sword Spirit. With that I can see the group in the distance and avoid them even better. I hope your ready, because I won't hold back when they try to catch and fight me!“ the sword blinked blue before going back to normal. Now I want to save her as well! She doesn't need a bunch of psychos as her wielders! I will take her with me to Teyvat, maybe she will like it and the gods over there are way nicer than Hylia.

This is how Reader's first attempt to flee and they were really good, especially with the beacon on the Hero's Spirit. But they will catch them eventually. Maybe in a dungeon or after entering a portal. But it would be funny if the Chain wouldn't be able to wield Fi anymore because Fi also fell in love with Reader. Just imagine a Yandere Sword Spirit. She may be asleep but her conscience is still awake. So the group would definitely delude themself into thinking that Reader woke up and got attacked. And as we all know Sky is a hibernating bear when he is asleep, took Fi to protect themself and Sky. But they will definitely notice that Paimon is more fidgety around them and that Reader and Paimon talk way more in teyvatian than usual. But they discarded it as soon as Reader mentiones that Paimon isn't feeling well, because of the shadow, which they believe as they can't understand that they plan to run away again but this time to Teyvat. Away from the group forever. But they get the meat for cooking for Paimon and themself and just said that the last meat they had with the group made Paimon sick and they don't want Paimon to feel sick all the time and as the group sees them as Paimon's parental figure so the boys try to fill the other spot, which is hard as hell as Paimon can't understand them and vice versa. Ughh... Why are Yanderes so crazy to handle?

OOOOHHH another genshin reader!!! lumine makes so much sense too - and also???? the way that she's been to hyrule BEFORE????? with aether albeit but she's visited before????????? AND MET A LINK BEFORE?????

Hell with the link described they met WARS before?????? it'd be an interesting take if that is the link - and he just hasn't joined the chain yet, reader could be why he ended up siding with them even

it's a shame the chain are so set on being controlling with them though - they really can be incredibly stupid at times, because sometimes there really are better ways to act. it's good for reader though they aren't like a frog being slowly boiled, they actually know to try to GTFO of the situation there

PLUS FI????? sweet baby yan sword spirit love them so, if they're a yan too though.... maybe there's a way to bond their sword to them... or something happens to their original blade so they can never use it again...

also poor paimon sfvdvgdfgvdszf never getting the chance to learn the language and is just lost there not understanding (i'd say teach em but they would probably let it slip they know the language)

#man I love this one so much #I really wish I had more to add but I'm just????#in awe with what you write /gen #It's such a treat to see you in my inbox menace <333 #the ideas and how you write is just???? so good?????#moss✦answers #yandere linked universe #linked universe #yandere link #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #menace anon

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dyeher · 1 year ago

Text

flowers as our witness| mha

Includes: kastuki bakugo x fem! reader Warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, praise, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise, soft sex. Summary: first time sex with katsuki bakugo and you’re not sure if he’s being gentle for you or himself. Notes: inspired by Howl’s moving castle theme ‘merry go round of life’ by the god mc.

Katsuki makes love to you for the first time on a feather soft blanket under an orange splattered canvas of a sky. There are pinks and purples in the background and the blue skies have darkened with the receding light. Half of the sun has already disappeared into the horizon and the evening warmth is being chased by the gentlest of breeze.

It’s a slow, sloppy affair.

Katsuki devours your mouth in a mind melting kiss that turns your legs to jelly. You don’t know how he does it but as he guides you to your back on the blanket he manages to shove the remnants of your picnic off.

He consumes you; his kiss is a branding, a claiming, a fierce reminder that you are his. And as he settles between your thighs and parts his lips for your eager tongue it’s also a reminder that he is yours. With every grunt and moan and breathy sound you draw from him you’re reminded—in the recess of your mind—that you are his equal and this—your relationship—is a precarious balance of wills.

When he eases himself to his elbow so you’re pressed chest to chest, and there is so little space between your bodies that even your breaths mingle when you pull away, he smiles at you. If everything in the world were perfect then Katsuki Bakugou smiling probably wouldn’t be such a monumental event to you but, it is and you’re struck dumb—dumber actually because you’ve already been dumbed down to your baser instincts, reduced to a walking libido by one kiss—by how beautiful he is.

The waning sun casts his blonde hair in a golden halo that frames desire softened features. Even with his rough edges he’s beautiful but with the edge gone and his body at ease—a Katsuki only few have the pleasure of knowing—his beauty is almost painful. Eyes that have darkened to madder scan your face and lips—kiss swollen and soft—part enough to flash you his teeth in another, shorter smile.

If everything in the world were as breathtaking as Katsuki Bakugou’s smile, maybe there would be world peace. Alas, his smile is just as rare as world peace and when he gifts you with the bright, lopsided grin your heart does something scarily close to a backflip.

Your eyes shut as he peppers kisses across your cheekbones, soft and fleeting like the breeze. He ducks to your neck and rains those kisses along your collarbone and then lifts his head enough to press one on the top of your nose.

“You look beautiful in this light,” he mentions, almost offhandedly like it’s expected. “You look beautiful in every light,” he continues, not an ounce of surprise in his tone. Only reverence, only satisfaction, like he knew it was possible and now that it’s confirmed he’s glad he didn’t doubt himself.

His kisses get firmer. The fingers of one hand slipping between the strap of your dress and your shoulder and tugging it from your body. His lips follow the line of your shoulder to where the strap hangs loosely at your elbow before he moves his mouth to the breast he’s just exposed. He hums around the peaked bud, shifting when you prop yourself up on your elbows to admire him. His eyes are closed as he relaxes the weight of his body against you and tugs your other breast free of the dress. Warm fingers massage your nipple lazily, rolling it along the calluses on his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches, shoving your breast deeper into his mouth.

Your head falls back a grateful gasp leaving you as he switches his mouth to award your other breast the same attention. His name is a quiet plea on your lips as he pulls himself onto his knees to free himself of his shirt. You don’t have long to admire the hard planes of his abs or even the defined cut of his broad shoulders before he’s slipping further down on the blankets to bend your knees how he likes. And then he’s kissing the inside of one knee that he keeps in his hold before guiding that leg over his shoulder and turning to the other knee. By the time he’s reached the apex of your thighs you’re shaking in anticipation.

“Is this alright?” he asks, fingers running along the clothed pussy. “Can I touch you here?”

You nod mutely, and gasp when he kisses at the dampened material before hooking his fingers in the waistband and tugging on them. You lift your hips immediately, wiggling them as he drags them down your thighs. He leaves them tangled around your ankles, tangled in your shoes.

The first slide of his tongue through your folds has your eyes widening and your lips parting in surprise at the arousal that explodes in your stomach. Goosebumps erupt along your arms, pebbling your nipples further in the cool afternoon air. He does it again and you’re sure your heart constricts. For a moment your scattered brain cells band together long enough that you wonder if you’re having a stroke. But then he wraps his lips around your clit and hums and all thoughts of medical issues go up in smoke as all your nerve endings fire.

Katsuki eats your pussy like it’s a delicacy. Humming his approval with every gush of your slick he draws out of you. Lapping at your folds like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Grinding his hips into the blanket under him as though just having you spread like this for his tongue makes him hard enough that he can’t bear it.

When you cum it’s with your fingers tangled in his hair as you drag him as close to you as you can manage. You think, as your body sags into the blanket that he’s done but even as he climbs your body, kissing your thighs and stomach and chest and stopping to suck each nipple into your mouth his fingers skim the inside of your thighs until they’re bumping into your sensitive clit.

He kisses you softly as he drags his fingers along your slit. You try to squirm away.

“Behave,” he growls into your mouth and you still, something about his tone has your pussy clenching embarrassingly. Your heart thuds when he makes a lazy loop of his fingers around your clit. “Good girl,” he coos, voice rough. Suddenly your mind has spiraled into a place of being called a good girl and told to behave and begging Katsuki for your orgasms or to touch you, begging him to make you feel good.

You moan when he slips two fingers into you, distracting you from this new place he’s unlocked. Coaxing your walls apart with each experimental twist and curve of his them along your walls. Until he brushes against your g spot. You kiss him harder, hands wrapping around his shoulders as you buck into his hand. He chuckles at your frantic actions, one hand wrapped around your waist as his other hand works the spot inside of you.

You mewl when he pulls back to kiss the side of your forehead. “Cum for me, sweetheart,” he instructs near your ear. “Go on,” he urges. “Make a mess.”

And you do, gushing onto his fingers, embarrassing whimpers leave you. In your post orgasm haze you can barely help him as he rids you of your dress and untangles your legs from your panties so he can pull your shoes off. They’re discarded along with his own clothes somewhere and then he’s kissing you again.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Soft kisses litter your brow. You jolt as the head of his cock nudges your clit. You glance down between your bodies, gulping at the heavy cock bobbing between his legs. The head is flushed an angry shade of red as it leaks down the shaft. Thick and long and perfect and the biggest cock that you have ever had anywhere near your poor pussy. You huff in annoyance when your hips lift to press your entrance against him and he pulls out of reach. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, please-”

You’re interrupted by his lips as he wraps you in his arms until not even oxygen particles can fit between your bodies and kisses you until black dots swim in your vision.

When he squeezes the head of his cock into your pussy your consciousness splinters into a million tiny pieces. They scatter across the meadow with the sounds of your high moans, your whimpered ‘yes’ on repeat as he thrusts. Deep and slow, each stroke drags his cock along a part of your body that has you seeing stars. Or maybe it’s the fact that the sun has set and the moon is just high enough that it illuminates the length of Katsuki’s back as he folds his big body over you. Or perhaps those are the actual stars above you.

“Fuck,” Katsuki rasps. His voice thick with the struggle of keeping his thrusts controlled. “So, fucking tight.” The words are muffled into your neck, breathed against your skin. You can barely respond as the control slips enough for his pace to quicken. The sudden slapping of his thighs against your ass chokes you. Leaves you breathless and giddy and now you’re positive that these stars are definitely in the sky above you because you feel as tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

“Love you so much,” Katsuki slurs. His words follow a particularly artful roll of his hips that grinds his pelvis into your sensitive clit. They send you catapulting over the edge. Your orgasm surprises you both, forcing Katsuki’s thrusts to a crawl as he fucks you through it. He pulls back enough to readjust you. Guiding your thighs up and back and propping your legs on his shoulders.

“Oh- Kats-” your words cut abruptly when he folds himself back into position and kisses you. A frantic, messy kiss. He sucks your tongue into his mouth as his hips hammer into yours. This position has him reaching deep enough that you can feel the light bumping of the head of his cock against the entrance to your cervix. His thrusts are sloppy now, he chases orgasm with abandon and you watch, enraptured, lost enough to your own pleasure that you pay it no mind, as his eyes close, his lips part on every groan, every curse of your name as your pussy squeezes him.

“I’m gonna-” he groans, dropping his weight onto your legs entirely and squashing you closer to him, “-cum.”

“Cum for me,” you slur. “Cum- please Kat- yes, yes, thank you-” your words devolve into a mindless babble as he cums in you. His forehead falling to yours, his muscles trembling under your fingers. He gives a few weak thrusts before he stills and then his muscles go lax.

Much later after he licks your pussy clean and marvels at how pretty you look leaking his cum, he helps you redress but stuffs your panties into the picnic basket. He tells you it’s a souvenir. Something to remind him of this night. You rest with your back against his chest as your sunset picnic turns into a stargazing date with a bottle of criminally expensive wine and grapes that he feeds you while he points out as many constellations that he can recognize.

“Thank you,” you whisper into the night while he helps you back everything away.

He pauses, squints at your soft smile and the way you nervously fidget with the hem of your dress. “You’re welcome,” he grunts.

“We should do this again,” you continue.

Katsuki chuckles, “The sex or sneaking onto private property?”

You frown. “Both.”

He picks up the basket and reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his body. “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

He gives you a searing kiss before he drags you after him. The flowers sway with your movements and you try your hardest not to step on any of them, not even the ones that are wilting. They’re beautiful even dying and you owe them your respect because they’ve just seen you ass naked, it’s the least you can do after potentially traumatizing them.

author's note: hello, soft katsuki with a side of fries.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki x you #mha: beyablade!

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darkbluekies · 8 months ago

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What are the yanderes favourite seasons? Or favourite kind of weather? What your favourite season, Blue? :D

I personally love calm rainy weathers :3 perfect to sit on the balcony, sipping tea and reading something while listening to the rain dropping on leaves ^^

Silas: since he is from Greece I feel like he's a summer person. I feel like he wants a reason to show off his muscles. And he does not like being crammed in a winter jacket. Sunny, hot and warm breeze<3

Dr Kry: spring!! Life is starting to come back after a long winter, and he is fascinated by how the greeney is coming back to life. He starts his gardening and gets his will to live back. Sunny, not too hot and crisp air<3

King Edmund: probably autumn? Hard to say. I think he likes the atmosphere of autumn. He likes the smell of the forest after rain, the fact that he doesn't sweat his ass off anymore and likes the look of leaves in the wind. Sunny, crisp air, after it has just been raining<3

Jerry: this girl likes spring. I feel like she secretly likes to see the flowers and definitely likes warmer weather. Summer is also nice for her, but I feel like she isn't that big of a fan of sunshine. Cloudy, warm breeze<3

Hedwig: summer!!!!!!!!!! This girl will not stay in England once she becomes a real adult because she can't stand the weather!!!!! She loves to be by the pool, to wear summer dresses etc. Loves summer. Sunny, warm wind, extremely hot<3

And yours truly, I love all seasons, honestly. I think that autumn might be my favorite because of the atmosphere. I get all good book ideas in fall (example being the "story 1" of my private ones i showed a while ago lol) and I just love the look of the leaves and fog and such.

But my ABSOLUTE favorite weather is during the summer, when the sky is so unbelievably dark that there's a dark hue over the world, just before the rain starts. NOTHING gives me inspiration to write like that!!!

My favorite season to run is in winter because I don't sweat, it's dark early and the snow is fun to run in + everything is beautiful<333

#missmerymoon

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magewritesstories · 2 years ago

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James Potter // I Love You

summary: The three times James Potter tells you he loves you, and the one time you say it back. TW: mentions of fighting, James being James and not taking no for an answer (not completely creepy though), and alcohol consumption note: I love this man, and this aesthetic

The red and orange leaves crunched under your feet. It was the first week back at Hogwarts, and also your first Care Of Magical Creatures class.

The schoolyards smelled like rain after a long dry season, and it was just warm enough for you to dress in a comfortable white cardigan— made of wool because it’s still winter in England— and your white maxi skirt which had a pink flower print.

You closed your eyes, taking in the peace and quiet. It was 8:45 in the morning, and most classes didn’t start until 9:30, so there was barely another student in sight.

“Hey!”

You instinctively rolled your eyes at the sound of the voice behind you. You pivoted, fully-facing James, and you gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Hello, James.”

The brunet grinned at you, “Hey, [Y/N], so, have you made up your mind yet?” he asked, sheepishly rubbing his neck.

You raise an eyebrow at the question, “I thought I was pretty obvious last night James, remember when you decided to declare your love for me during dinner?” the 13-year-old shrugged, “Well, I just thought you were a bit vague is all.”

“ “When pigs fly” is vague?” You asked incredulously, but before he could reply, “Well, let me be more clear: I, [Y/N] [Y/L/N], will never go out with you.” The boy laughed, “Never say never, darling.” You rolled your eyes, turning back, “Whatever, Potter.”

“But I love you!?”

“Too bad!”

You sighed twirling your pink pen in your hands. Spring of ‘74 had decided to be unbelievably nice. There was a cool breeze ruffling through your hair, as you sat under a large willow tree trying to finish your arithmetics notes.

All your friends still had classes— since they all had a different schedule than you— which meant you were sitting alone, wracking your brain and regretting your decision of picking this over divination

At least Trelawny gave out sympathy P’s...

“[Y/N], my darling, treasure of my heart, how are you on this fine day?” James asked, loudly announcing his presence. You sighed, letting your head fall. Great, first Professor Fahey was giving you a hard time and now this guy.

“Amazing, until you came along.”

James let himself fall down onto the blanket, hand over his heart, “You wound me, my love,” He sighed, dramatically, “Why do you hurt me, when all I do is love you?”

“Leave me alone, James.”

“Never, [Y/N].”

You buried your face in the pages of Arithmetics For Dummies, half out of annoyance, and half as an attempt to hide your blush. But apparently, your ears liked James more than you, and they betrayed.

“Oh. My. Merlin!” James exclaimed, practically jumping up, he softly pulled the book away from your face. He leaned in to get a better look at your face. The two of you were now nose to nose.

His lips looked so soft, and kissable, maybe—

“I actually made you blush!” He said happily. Welp, there goes that thought. You quickly turned your head. You grabbed your bag, as well as the books and notebooks scattered across the blanket, before standing up and walking away.

“Oh come on, [Y/N] don’t be shy, it’s okay, you like me!”

A cold breeze ran through your sheer navy blue top. It was nearly midnight, and the stars were out on full display. You sighed, looking at the seemingly never-ending shining specks of light.

“Hey, you enjoying yourself?”

You almost didn’t recognize the voice, because of the softness. James sat down next to you, dangling his legs down the pier. You buried your face in your arms, which were wrapped around the knees and pressed against your chest.

“What do you want James?”

“Nothing, you just looked like you could use the company.”

“Why are you so persistent, James?” You asked, turning your head towards the Gryffindor prefect. He shrugged, looking up at the sky “I thought it was obvious— especially after I’ve said it a million times— I love you, [Y/N], I think you’re amazing and cool and way too smart for your own good, and I would be very lucky to date you.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his cheesiness. He turned his head towards you, offering you a small smile in return. You leaned in, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

“So take me out on a date.”

“What?”

“You, me, Honeydukes next weekend.”

James stared at you like a deer in headlights. “Really?” He asked, trying to fight the grin forming on his face. You nodded shyly, hoping that the redness of your cheeks wasn’t visible against the stark darkness of the night.

Once it was completely processed, James tackled you onto the ground in a bear hug. “Yes, yes, yes!” He shouted, “I promise you won’t regret it!”

You laughed at the elated expression on his face.

“I’m sure I won’t, Jamie.”

The room was an absolute mess. There were posters all over the wall next to them, and there was a cabinet above his desk filled to the brim with trophies. Three walls were painted a crème-coloured white, with the accent wall a muted red.

You sat on the bed, back pressed against James’s chest, snuggled up under a blanket, despite it being 20 degrees out. You squirmed a little as James attacked your neck and jaw with loving kisses.

You let out a laugh, something that James always argued sounded like angels singing, trying to get out from under his grip. But he just tightened his arms around your waist.

“James— James, let go,” you managed to say in between laughs as he started to tickle you.

“Never, [Y/N],”

After a few minutes, he stopped, letting you catch your breath. By now you’d fully turned towards him. The book you’d been reading long forgotten on his bed. James pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your lips, and then another one.

“James, stop it, you’re mom’s gonna walk in!” You chastised, although you kept complying every time he leaned in for another. He shrugged it off, “Nah, my mom won’t come in,” before you could add to the concern, he added, “And neither will Sirius unless he wants to be traumatised.”

You rolled your eyes that the exaggeration before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. You smiled, looking into the brown eyes that had slowly but surely become a comfort for you over the past year.

You’d fallen in love with James Potter.

You could practically hear the younger version of you let out an offended gasp, with bright red cheeks, of course.

But there was nothing you could do about it now, except for tell him and hope he felt the same.

“I love you,” you said shyly, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. You felt his grip on your waist loosen just a little. His face fell into an expression of shock, before splitting into a grin. “What did you say?” He asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes, face still burning, “You heard me.” James grinned, “I’ve waited three years to hear that.” You rolled your eyes,placing a kiss on his lips.

“I love you, James Potter.”

“I love you, [Y/N] [Y/L/N].”

#james potter #james potter x reader

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asphalt-cocktail · 10 months ago

Text

Lead Us to Temptation- Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Nicknames, heavy religious themes in this chapter, mentions of threatening with a gun and criminal activity, thunder storms, smut, oral f receiving, virginity kink (sorry but also I’m not), arguing, talk of marriage, good old fashioned catholic guilt

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

Read me on AO3

Chapter 1- Precious Lord Take my Hand

Dinner with Bucky in Thunder Creek was… well it could have been better. The dinner itself was lovely, the part that soured it was the big gray storm clouds that created a contrasting line against the bright blue sky. You could feel the humidity weighing the air in the restaurant and feel the sudden drop of pressure along with the cold breeze that blew in with the storm.

April showers did in fact bring May flowers.

They also forced you to bed down for the night in the local hotel. There was no way you’d be able to make the two hour ride back home and avoid ending up soaked to the bone or having a tree fall on you from the violent winds that whipped. You’d catch your death if you stayed out in this type of weather too long.

The spring thunderstorm promised the renewal of life to the brown and yellow earth, it brought both anticipation and fear. Fat raindrops fell from the sky, once a bright cloudless shade of green is now a tempest of charcoal gray as heavy storm clouds cover it. The heavy drops of rain were swallowed up by the thirsty ground turning the streets into muddy rivers.

Bucky licked his lips, deep in thought and looked down the street to the hotel. It was only a matter of time before the last rooms were taken by the other visitors in town. He handed you his jacket for you to cover yourself and wrapped an arm around you, sprinting at a leisurely but rushed pace to salvation. Mud splattered up the back of your boots, sticking to your tights and soiling the bottom of your dress. The creaky wooden floor boards just outside the hotel sag and groan under the weight of water as you step into the hotel, wet and shivering like a stray dog.

You didn't know how, but he’d managed to finesse the last hotel room in town. It was something close to a miracle you thought. Bucky would never tell you that he pressed the barrel of his six shooter deep into the side of the clerk and demanded a room while you looked at the various taxidermied game that hung like trophies on the wall.

After a nice warm bath your clothes were dry enough for you to pick the dried chunks of mud off the hem of your skirt and brush it off your boots. Since it was night time, you didn't even bother changing back into your petticoat, bodice, and dress. Instead you hid behind the changing screen, mind consumed with the fact that you and Bucky would have to share a bed tonight.

The rain swelled to a great deluge that is enough to drown out the conversations in the hotel lobby, people angry that there are no more rooms left and arguing with the clerk. Outside the trees bend and sway, the weaker branches snapping loudly and falling to the ground. There was no way you’d be able to make it home, not in a storm like this.

Thunder rumbled, low and menacing as you played with the little tie on the front of your chemise. You were scared, scared of what your father would say when you returned in the morning, scared of what Father Liska would say during your confessional. You didn't have to worry about what the women would say at their bible study groups. They already loved to talk about you out of both sides of their mouth.

You felt exposed in the thin white fabric, it did very little to hide your womanly figure. You’d never been in such a state of undress in front of someone before, not in your entire adult life at least. Nerves flipped in your gut as lightning struck outside, flashing and illuminating the low lit room followed by the low rumble of thunder.

The changing screen did very little to help you feel less exposed, knowing that all that stood between you and Bucky were a few tall wooden panels. You poked your head around the corner of the screen and saw Bucky’s back to you. He had already stripped down to his cotton drawers and was shedding his shirt.

Your eyes were drawn to a scar on his shoulder, it emerged from his skin like the smudge of a brush stroke, edges jagged and uneven, the skin taut. The pink hue stood out against Bucky’s tanned skin, starting at his shoulder and tracing the contours and muscle of his arm before it tapered off at the elbow. You could only imagine the terrible memories that came along with it.

You forced yourself to look away, now distracted by broad planes of his back, built from decades of intensive labor and living off the lam. The muscles rippled with Bucky’s movement tempting you to touch him.The sight made you a bit light headed and your stomach throbbed with an unfamiliar feeling. Stiffly, you stepped out from behind the changing screen.

The creak of the floor boards under your feet alerted him. He turned, it felt like Bucky’s eyes were going to burn your clothes right off with how hard he was staring. You didn't want to look up and meet his hungry gaze, but you could picture exactly what he looked like as he devoured you.

“Please stop staring.” You tried to sound biting, but it came out weak. Nervous even. You crossed your arms over your chest to try and allow yourself some modesty.

In one large step Bucky was in front of you. His hands lightly grasped your arms, and gave them a light tug. You rested them against the firm planes of his pectorals, “I'm just thinking about all the fun we can have tonight.” He dipped his head, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Just me and you.”

You gasped, breath stolen by his suggestive words. They made your gut twist with nerves. Every God-fearing part of your brain was burned away with a hellfire that warmed your body. You swallowed thick and exhaled through your nose, “I’ve… I’ve never…” you trailed off almost too embarrassed to let the words come out.

Bucky let go of you, hands jumping away like he just touched hot iron. The sudden distance between you both had you feeling exposed, vulnerable even.

Was it something you said? Did he not want you now?

“Bucky?” Your voice was meek.

You were a virgin?

Jesus Christ of course you were a virgin how could he be so stupid. So inconsiderate!

He wanted to skip all of the prose, all the ceremony of courtship and just take you here in this hotel room. He was thinking with his dick and not his brain. You must have been horrified at his advances.

He sat down on the edge of bed lost in his own head.

“Are you mad at me?” You didn’t know what else to ask. You pull him from the deep recesses of his brain and shattered his heart with the nerve in your voice.

“God sweetheart,” he huffed and grabbed your arms pulling you close and looked up at you, “Of course not.” His arms wrapped around your waist comfortingly.

If things were going to continue as they were he had to lay out all his secrets, even the ugly ones. He let out a soft exhale and looked away from you, “Look, if you’re going to be my woman there’s some things I need to tell you first.”

Well if that was supposed to comfort you it didn’t. It made you more afraid. What was he going to say? He had a secret family in Pennsylvania? He was wanted by the Pinkertons? He was a Protestant? That would truly be the worst out of all three of the options.

You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you were bedded by a Protestant.

He swallowed hard. Bucky desperately wanted to keep you hidden from his alternative lifestyle “I’m a wanted man babydoll.” His information served as a warning for what you would get yourself into should you continue seeing him.

His low, gravely tone sent a shiver down your spine and made the hair on your arms stand on end, “What do you mean?” You spoke in a hushed tone. You knew what it meant.

Well at least he wasn’t a Protestant. A criminal you could handle, something that could be forgiven.

“I’m not a good man.” He cleared his throat, his tone was almost pleading, “I’ve done…I do bad things.” He killed people, lied, stole, all without mercy. Bucky was not a nice man, he was mean and callous, calculating and manipulative. “But, Jesus, woman, I'd walk the line for you if it meant I could have you.” But for you, he’d get on his knees and beg for your love.

It should have made you push him away, seek the closest stagecoach, alert the town sheriff, run for the hills and call the Pinkertons, but hell it made you want him more. The air of danger around Bucky Barnes pulled you, like a moth to a flame, “You don’t have to walk any lines to have me.” You didn't care about his rambling ways. You wanted all of him, all his sins and imperfections. Your head spun with an intoxicating mixture of nerves and excitement, “I’m your woman now?”

“I don’t sit through Sunday mass for just anyone.” He reminded you. It was true, he’d manage to attend mass with you every Sunday and even stomached the post service lunch your family always had.

The heavens opened up and rain continued to fall from the sky, spraying the windows in waves. But you didn’t have half a mind to pay any attention to that now. Not when Bucky’s hand was sliding up and gripping the meat of your thigh so close to your butt, “Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky cooed and pressed his face between your breasts and kissed the valley.

Not when he was doing things like that.

“Lemme take care of you.” He coaxed your fear of damnation away with a few simple words. You moved, kneeling on either side of him and sitting on his lap, “That’s my girl.” He said softly, resting his hands on your thighs.

He kissed you softly, his beard scratching against your skin. You shyly opened for him, allowing his tongue to move and caress your own. You expected a rugged man like him to be a lot less gentle with you, but he was letting you set the pace tonight.

You could taste the sweat in his lip and the lingering tobacco from the cigarette he smoked an hour earlier. You relaxed into his touch as his hand slid up and snaked around you deepening the kiss.

Bucky’s hands roamed up your body, feeling the soft curve of your hips before grabbing your tits. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, noses barely touching, breathing in each other's labored breaths. His thumb brushed over a hardened nipple and you gasped at the foreign sensation, back arching slightly.

He wanted to watch you, see how your body reacted, see how your brain broke from the pleasure he gave you. His fingers kneaded the flesh of your heavy breasts and he pinched and twisted your nipples until they were sensitive and peaked.

Your cheeks reddened from embarrassment as he untied the front closure of your shift and pulled open the small split in the front, he kissed your neck then your chest before he pulled the thin white fabric down where it shelved beneath your breasts. You felt indecent. Exposed.

The cool air chilled you to the bone and made you shiver. Bucky mouthed at the sides of your tits licking and sucking on one and then the other until your back arched and you whined beneath him.

God if this was how you reacted to him playing with your tits, he couldn’t wait to hear how you sounded when he fucked you. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight, he was a gentleman after all. He couldn’t go having dessert twice in one night now could he? It was a bit too self indulgent for him and maybe too much of a shock for your poor catholic conscience.

But he was still planning on eating tonight. He was going to absolutely devour you. “Lay down.” You followed his command and moved, laying flat against the lumpy mattress and watched Bucky lay on his stomach and settle between your legs.

You sat up on your elbows, shuddering as you felt him kiss your thighs, getting dangerously close to your dripping cunt, “What are you going to do?” Your breathing quickened when you saw Bucky lick his lips and draw his lip between his teeth. He nuzzled the apex of your thigh, inhaling the natural heady scent of your arousal. The scent was so distinctly feminine, it made him ravenous.

“Bucky!” You squeaked, shocked at his behavior.

“Oh sugar, we haven’t even gotten started.” He said and kissed the top of your mound. In that moment you were certain Bucky Barnes was the serpent in the garden of Eden, beckoning you towards a life filled with sin and temptation, and by god you were going to take his hand and let him lead you there.

You gasped loudly, feeling the broad flatness of his tongue lick a stripe up your cunt, then back down again and shuttered at the foreign sensation. You flopped back onto the bed and hand immediately knotted itself into his dark hair gripping a fist full of it, hanging on for dear life, “Oh my god.” You huffed in disbelief. His mouth was really down there, licking you, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

His tongue traced little circles around your clit before he let out a groan and sucked on it, his actions hedonistic and greedy as he continued to indulge. The wet noises that came from between your legs mixed with the overwhelming pleasure that warmed your body and made you feel dizzy.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, a thick finger traced around your entrance before he stuffed it inside you. His finger penetrated your cunt, stuffing itself deeper inside you until the knuckle of his hand rested against your slippery skin. He pulled back and quickly added a second, stuffing them back in and curling them against your sinfully wet walls. You felt stuffed to the absolute brim, full with a delicious burn that made your fists clench the cotton sheets of the hotel mattress.

When you finally gained half a brain cell of consciousness you opened your eyes looking down and seeing his face coated in wetness.

Your wetness.

It coated his chin and cheeks, your thighs, drenched his hand as he fucked you with it. It was like the floodgates of heaven opened up from the Great Deep and the tide swallowed him whole.

The flat of his tongue found its way back to your clit, rubbing down and making you whine with pleasure. You dug your nails into Bucky’s scalp pulling a satisfied deep groan from your lover's mouth as he continued to devour you.

Bucky’s thumb replaced his mouth and he licked a spot of wetness from your thigh, “I can’t wait to fuck this tight little pussy.” He mumbled and pulled his fingers out, lightly slapping your sensitive, swollen clit. You hissed at the feeling and at his lascivious words before he stuffed you full once more and pressed his thumb against your clit rubbing it in a circle, “You want that?” He asked and you nod your head, “Want me to fuck this tight virgin cunt of yours?”

God he wanted to split you open, carve a hole for himself deep inside your untouched hole and fuck you stupid.

“Oh god yes,” you could feel your pussy throb as he continued to beat his fingers into you at a brutal pace and suck hard on your clit, pulling you closer and closer to the edge.

You clenched a fist full of his hair, grinding down onto his face, sloppily trying to meet the rhythm of his hand. The only sober part of your brain was thankful for the thunderous rain that continued to hammer the windows and covered the sounds coming from your hotel room.

Finally, your back is arching off the mattress, cunt pulsating and squeezing his fingers as he digs them further inside you, rubbing them against your walls and pulling more pleasure from you. Your body trembled, spasming around his fingers, flooding his face.

Bucky watched you in awe, your body writhing and twisting against the sheets, hair haloed around your head, lips kiss swollen and body flush with arousal. You were absolutely gorgeous. Responsive and gorgeous. He couldn’t let a girl like you go.

He was going to marry you if it killed him.

Bucky’s hands slowed and he licked your wetness off the soft skin of your thighs and stomach not wanting to waste a single drop of it before he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on those too groaning like he’d just had a tasty meal.

Watching him only fed sugar into the fire. You leaned up, pulling him towards you and sloppily kissed him, all tongue and teeth as you pushed down his drawers. Bucky smiled against your mouth and pushed your hands away, pushing you back onto the mattress, “Patience, sweetheart.” He scolded, and then laid next to you sighing with content.

“Aren’t we going to… well you know.” He stared at your confused expression and looked amused, “Have sex?” You finally said it out loud and it felt dirty. It felt like someone had dropped an anvil through the ceiling and it fell on your chest.

“Not tonight.” He answered, “We’ll work our way there, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I thought you said I was your woman” you didn’t know if it was because Bucky gave you an earth shattering orgasm, or what but you were just plain confused now.

“You are my woman.” He said and pulled you into his side, “One thing at a time love.” He wedged a leg between yours, tangling them together.

The following morning when you returned to town, braving the mud and fallen tree branches, the doors to the church seemed almost intimidating. You already knew how your father was going to react to your absence from the family home last night. Your brain was wrought with an overwhelming sense of guilt as Bucky took your hands and opened the tall wooden doors.

Father Liska’s homily only further propelled you into a cavern of guilty unholiness. It was like God himself told the father of what happened last night, of the wanton sin you committed. Laying with a man before marriage? How could you be so foolish?

“God does permit us to be tempted” Father Liska stood at the pulpit, usually his words of wisdom helped comfort you, “Not so that we fall, but so we grow in holiness,” No, this just made you feel worse, “Temptation forces us to rise up and make a choice for God or to succumb to the devil's temptation.”

You were going to be sick.

During the Rite of Peace you couldn’t bear to look at your father as he shook Bucky’s hand, death grip, jaw clenched, a bitter “Christ’s peace be with you.”

Bucky shook your fathers hand back firmly a smarmy smirk plastered across his face, “Christ’s peace be with you too sir.”

Then Bucky hugged your mom and kissed her cheek with a smooth “Christ’s peace be with you ma’am” which pissed your dad off too. Everything about Bucky pissed him off.

Once you were in the privacy of your family home, seated at the dinner table, Bucky next to you, parents on either end of the table, brother and sister-in-law across from the you, you father took it upon himself bring some good old fashioned shame to the table, “You didn’t return home last night.” He said loudly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Your mother said his name in a scolding tone, “No I didn’t. I’d have caught my death in that storm.” You sat up a bit straighter. It was true. Traveling two hours back home in the rain in wet clothes would have signed your death warrant.

“What were your sleeping accommodations like?” He probed further, trying to figure out a way to make you feel even guiltier than you already did. Remind you of the devil's presence in your life and how you succumbed to his temptations.

“Bucky paid for me to stay at the local inn. Is that what you want to hear from me?” You shot back sharply, “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big mess over it.” You threw your cloth napkin onto the table and pushed your seat back and stood up to leave.

“Sit down!” Your father snapped, “I’ll not have that disrespectful tone under my roof,” your father spoke sternly and then turned towards Bucky and pointed at him, “And you,” he said dramatically, “Are going to bring nothing but trouble for her and you know it.”

Bucky rubbed his hands in his trousers and leaned back in his seat, his casual posture contrasting your fathers intensity, “What makes you say that sir?” He was genuinely curious. There was no way your father would have known of his criminal history. Not when they were so far from the last town they’d committed a crime in and even then their faces had been covered. Bucky struck a match and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and waiting for the answer.

If he wanted to sit through someone pissing and moaning about how he lived his life he’d go talk to his own father, God rest his soul.

“You have no steady work, no land, no history outside of the few months you’ve been here. You parade around with a troupe of delinquents and bring good young women like my daughter down into the cesspit of a life you live. “

Bucky licked his lower lip, “With all due respect sir, it isn’t like your lifestyle is any better.” When your father scoffed loudly, throwing his hands up in disbelief, Bucky continued speaking before he could interrupt, “Wrath and greed might serve you well now, but you can’t buy your place in heaven.”

Your father was greedy, he was like a dragon who sat upon a hoard of black coal and iron, pillaging the Earth, taking what he wanted, and draining the life force of his workers. There was no way your father didn’t have as many, if not more lives than Bucky. His hands were undoubtedly stained red.

God spoke out, let there be light and your father damned his employees to a life beneath the ground. He probably didn’t even know their names, just the numbers crudely written on their mining helmets that correspond to his payroll ledger.

“Keep on digging, boy, that’s why you were born.” Born to serve the company, born to keep your fathers pockets fat and their own empty. It was a cruel, greedy joke that had been said too often.

Bucky took one more drag of his cigarette before he stubbed it out. You frowned, ultimately this was your mother’s fault, she was the one who had Bucky come by for after service lunch. Now here your father and Bucky were, making a scene in front of God and all his followers, “Now sir, I plan on marrying your daughter sooner or later, so I suggest you get all your acrimony out now because we will be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”

Your father opened his mouth to speak back and quickly your mother spoke up, “Not another word.” She hissed at him when he opened his mouth to speak back to Bucky, “James, dear, we’re extremely grateful you took care of our daughter. Aren’t we, darling?”

Your father didn’t answer her question, instead he stared, eyes narrowed at your lover. He didn't want Bucky to marry you. He wanted you to marry a rich, god fearing catholic man from town. Perhaps the son of the livery stable owner and farrier, maybe even the son of the Union Pacific RailRoad representative in town. Not some drifter with a silver tongue.

“It was truly my pleasure ma’am.” Bucky smiled sweetly at your mom.

Despite Bucky’s statement about taking your hand in marriage at lunch earlier you still couldn't help the internal barrage of guilt your brain waged against your heart. If Bucky was planning to marry you then it wasn't bad, right? You wondered if God could hear your pleas and if he would answer your prayers for clarity. You looked at the walls of your room, dimly lit by lamplight, the crucifix you’d gotten at your communion watching your internal struggle.

Your revelation was a self confession from the heart-To experience love and be loved was a gift, to sin was to be human. Perhaps love was the holiest form of rebellion, something that burned away dogma leaving something raw and utterly human, something to be forgiven with merciful grace.

Chapter 3- Hell Hath No Fury

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #marvel cinimatic universe #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #LUT

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let-me-be-an-egg-toast · 19 days ago

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reposting this because...why the fuck not

Original idea from @the-patchwork-girl-of-oz!

(im using my version of the characters (specifically their designs) so they may be described very differently from their canon counterparts!!)

Dorothy has succumbed to gentle slumber once again, snoring softly in the corner of the room. Toto lay against her rising and falling chest, the little canine also sleeping under her arm.

That's one of the few things that separate them from the Tin Woodman and his dear friend, the Scarecrow, the former supposes. He ponders idle thoughts while gazing upon the soft blue paint of the wall, while his friend laid on the ground, peacefully motionless. There was lots of this blue in this land, for it was Munchkinland, and the citizens' favorite was simply just blue.

If he were any other regular being, the Tin Woodman supposes he would be sick of seeing all this blue, but he wasn't, and he just stared at its splendor on the wall. It reminded him of many things - the far-away sky, the haunting rain, his little friend's checker dress....and one specific pair of eyes that he found he just can't tear his own away from recently.

"What are you thinking about?" The ever so keen Scarecrow asks, watching him with those oh-so blue button eyes. They were not of the same size, with the left one being slightly bigger and only having two holes, but the Tin Woodman supposes that was part of its simple beauty. They were given to his dear friend by a kind Munchkin girl after he had been brutally torn to bits by those horrible winged primates. That very moment forcefully hit the Tin Woodman straight into his core with the reality of just how vulnerable the Scarecrow can be, yet still be persistent and determined all the same.

"Nick?"

He snaps out of his thoughts to look at his companion, only to be slightly horrified he has been looking at the Scarecrow all this time.

"I am alright, dear Scarecrow. I was just thinking about how this wall matches your eyes."

"....I never realized that."

The Tin Woodman lets out a little chuckle. The Scarecrow raises himself a little to get a closer look at the blue wall.

"Huh. I suppose it does."

"It is Munchkinland after all."

The Scarecrow nods in agreement. "It is."

He lays back down.

"Do you like the color?"

"What?" The Tin Woodman turns to his dear friend, a little surprised.

"You like to stare at my eyes often. Now you're staring at the wall."

If he still had a flesh-made heart that pumped blood through veins that once existed, he sword he would've flushed. His gears did start to turn more, and warmth was starting to build up.

"...how long have you been noticing?"

"Well..." The Scarecrow tilted slightly to the side. "Ever since you started doing it."

Now he really was overheating. He felt the hot air push and escape through his pipes, which certainly did not go unnoticed by his companion, who simply laughed.

"I'm not sure if it's entirely the color," he finally admitted. "I'm still figuring it out."

The Scarecrow hummed in contemplation.

"Lay with me."

"What?"

"Lay with me," the Scarecrow repeated. "You'll get to have a close look at my eyes, and you'll figure out if it's just the color - or something else entirely."

The Tin Woodman then became stiff, almost as if he was rusted again, and he slowly lowered himself on the ground, right against his dear friend, who scooted a bit closer to him.

And so they stared at each other for a long time.

"Have you figured it out yet?" The Scarecrow suddenly asked, not impatiently.

"Not yet." The Tin Woodman turned to his side, now truly facing his lovely companion. "Maybe I'm just going to need more time."

The Scarecrow laughed softly, and the Tin Woodman wrapped an arm around him, and they gazed into each other's eyes for a long, long time.

(Finally posted it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61137988)

#writing #tincrow #tin woodman #nick chopper #scarecrow wizard of oz #wizard of oz #the wizard of oz #if there is no more food i shall cook for myself (and for those who even read this lmao)

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fangirl-writes · 1 year ago

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Pop the Question

John B. Routledge x Fem!Reader; Topper Thornton x Ex!Reader

Also featured: Kiesarah and Cleopope

Warning(s): Swearing, underage drinking, jealous Topper

Request: Hey, can I please have a request John B x Reader, where your on the docks with the pogues, just sitting by the water. You and John B are flirting, while Kiara, Pope and JJ are teasing you guys. Then Your ex Topper comes along being an asshole because he’s jealous.. on his boat. He asked you why your with John B and not with him.. because he hasn’t accepted the fact that you don’t like him anymore. Then John B blurts out your something more than just dating.. you said your husband and wife. Toppers reaction is too good not to laugh at! Thank you so much, love your writing because it’s amazing 🥰

Notes: This is waaaaay overdue. I'm so sorry. I had the hardest time writing it for some reason.

Anyway, I went back and forth between wanting this to take place before the seasons began or after and ended up going with after because it made more sense in my head.

It had been exactly one year since the pogues returned to the Outer Banks after getting the gold.

Alongside being hired by various high-status people to be essentially treasure hunters, they were getting used to living the good life.

John B. had a house built on the ruins of the old chateau, which JJ, Sarah, and you immediately moved into. Pope took his share into a college fund and Kiara donated to conservation efforts, with plenty leftover because come on it was actual gold.

Historic actual gold.

Of course, Rafe Cameron was still a pain in the ass and Topper was more of dick every time they saw him.

But none of that mattered today.

Because today they were boating and drinking some cold ones in celebration of a year on.

A year since John B. and Sarah said goodbye to their fathers.

For the second time. For the last time.

John B. was laying on the dock, feet dangling above the water, waiting for Pope and JJ to get back from filling up the HMS with gas. Kiara and Sarah were cuddled up behind him, Kie whispering sweet nothings into Sarah’s ear.

It was a bittersweet day. Such that if the weather were to match his emotions, it would be raining.

But the sky was blue, the water was clear, it was a perfect day.

The sound of footsteps coming down the dock drew John B. from his thoughts and he sat up to see you coming towards him.

You were holding a cooler, swinging it alongside you as you walked, flip-flops smacking all the while.

The sight brought him back to the beach, where you were walking towards him all dressed in white, barefoot on the sand.

A bright smile came across your lips when you met his eyes and he couldn’t help but smile back.

And suddenly his gray skies became sunny.

It had been a long road for the two of you, but your relationship was finally on a steady path.

After all the drama with his dad, the gold, his brief fling with Sarah, and all that time stuck on a deserted island, sometimes he couldn't believe he still had you.

“Hey, beautiful,” John B. greeted, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing your temple.

“Hey,” you replied, a small blush dusting your cheeks. “Hey guys.”

“Hey,” the girls replied, Sarah still lying in Kiara’s lap.

"Here, let me get that for you," John B. said, taking the cooler from your grip.

"Thanks, handsome."

"No problem, babe."

"Uh-oh, are JB and Y/N smothering us with their flirting again?" JJ said as Pope drove the HMS up to the dock.

"No, thankfully, you interrupted before they could get started," Kiara said, standing up with Sarah.

"Come on, you act like you weren't just showering Sarah with compliments," John B. retorted.

"At least I have the decency to keep it between us."

"You're all just jealous of how perfect our relationship is."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself," Kiara said, allowing JJ to help her step into the boat before doing the same with Sarah.

"You two really are insufferable sometimes," Pope piped up.

"Oh, you really wanna start this, Pope? Cause I can bring up exactly what I saw you and Cleo doing yesterday," John B. replied.

Pope blushed and JJ wolf-whistled.

"Okay, let's not bring Pope's exploits into this," You said, patting him on the shoulder. "We've got a celebration to be having."

"Now there's some sense," JJ said, grabbing for the cooler in John B.'s hand. "Let's get this party started."

But, as usual, something had to spoil the fun before it even began.

The noise of Topper's boat engine caught everyone's attention as he stalked over, the usual pissed-off look resting on his face as he glowered at you all.

You could feel John B. tense next to you and you grabbed his hand.

No, you wouldn’t let this lead to a fight. Not again, not today.

“Hi, Topper,” You said, painting on a smile.

“I see you big fish pogues still like to hang out around the bottom of the pond,” he said. “Good to see nothing’s changed.”

“Topper, go home,” Sarah spoke up, completely over his holier-than-thou attitude.

“Sorry, Sarah, but I’m actually not here for you. I want to talk to Y/N.”

You frowned.

“You ready to tell me why you’re with Routledge here and not me? Because if it’s the money you’re after, I’ll say I have plenty of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You ready to accept that I’m over you and that your money is actually your parents’?”

You and Topper dated for a while after John B. and Sarah went missing. At the time, you both needed a shoulder to cry on and, unfortunately, found each other.

JJ, Pope, and Kiara still haven’t forgiven you for abandoning them for Topper during that time. But it didn’t stop them from telling you when your friends turned up alive, and you'd all moved passed it by now.

Except, it seemed, for Topper. “You didn’t answer me.”

“I shouldn’t have to," You snapped. "Topper, you and I have been over for so long. Please let this go.”

“No, Y/N, I won’t let this go because you-”

“Topper, man, seriously, we’re just trying to have a nice day. Can we not do this?” John B. asked, trying with every bone in his body to stay calm.

"I wasn't talking to you, Routledge, butt out."

"Anything that involves Y/N involves me too."

"Oh yeah? You're that kind of boyfriend? Surprised she lets you control her that much."

"Fuck off, Topper, he doesn't control me!" You shouted.

"You know, just because you're his girlfriend doesn't mean you have to follow his orders."

You were fuming. Your mouth opened to say something else, but John B. beat you to it.

“She’s not actually my girlfriend,” he said, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Topper seemed caught off guard by this response. “Wh-what? She’s not?”

You smiled, reaching into your bag.

“No, didn’t you hear?”

The group around you began to snicker and grin.

Topper’s face flushed, embarrassed and no doubt feeling like he was missing something.

“Yeah, I’m not his girlfriend,” you said before holding up your left hand where a glittering ring now sat on your finger. “I’m his wife.”

You wished you'd have been thinking enough to get a picture of his reaction.

He looked like a fish the way his mouth opened and closed with nothing coming out of it.

John B. put an arm around your shoulders, his own wedding ring now on and sparkling in the sun. "Husband and wife, that's us. Had a nice little wedding on the beach and everything."

If looks could kill, your husband would be dead where he stood.

"Whatever. I'm done with all of you pogues. Have a nice life."

Topper put his boat in gear and started driving away while the rest of you waved sarcastically.

"Au Revoir!"

"Hasta Lavista!"

"Bon Voy-agee!"

"Hey!" Cleo came running down the dock. "Sorry 'm late! Got caught up at da market...did I miss somethin'?"

The group of you laughed.

"Nah," you said. "Nothing important."

"If you say so," Cleo replied with a shrug, taking Pope's hand as she jumped into the boat.

You nuzzled further into John B., playing with his wedding band. "That felt good."

"Good? That was fantastic? Did you see his face?" JJ said. "I want it framed."

The others animatedly dove into the story of what just happened to catch Cleo up while John B. settled for pressing light kisses to your neck.

"Feeling a little possessive there, Mr. Routledge?" You asked with a grin.

He hummed. "What do I need to be possessive for, Mrs. Routledge? I don't think I need to worry about him anymore."

#outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge imagine #topper thornton x ex!reader

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