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ramonathinks · 5 months ago

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matters of the heart — Nanami K.

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!

tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here

to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this

I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished.

The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one.

The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews.

“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person.

“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?

She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”

“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.

“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.

“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”

“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”

“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.

“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.”

“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”

“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”

“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat.

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.”

“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.

“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.

You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that.

You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months.

The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.

Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke.

“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.”

You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried.

It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago.

You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?

When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful.

“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand.

“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?”

It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.

The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself.

It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.

“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t.

“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.

“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.

“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before.

“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.

“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him.

“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial.

“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.

“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”

“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”

He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”

“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.

“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.

“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him.

“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”

The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him?

You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in.

“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?

“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid.

“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.

“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”

“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.

Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water.

His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?”

You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events.

He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.

Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more.

Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud.

Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum.

It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you.

When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.

But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.

Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his.

His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body – focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you.

Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation.

He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling.

“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves.

He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.

“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you.

“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response.

“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.

“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.

“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.

“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs.

You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.”

“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered.

Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow.

Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other.

Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.

It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.

“I know. I love you too, never stopped.”

“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”

“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex.

“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews.

Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.

Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too.

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valentinoappreciator · 4 months ago

Text

Sinful Habits

Media: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Valentino

Word count: 3.3k

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags / Warnings: Snuff films, rape, blow jobs, AU - 1950s, sexual coercion, mildly dubious consent

Where else to read: AO3 under the title "Sinful Habits", made by TheWeirdDane.

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is an AU of that 1950s VoxVal AU I'm working on. This scene won't be canon in that actual AU. My lovely friend & beta reader ( @hellsgreatestbrainrot ) came up with this little AU which is quite depraved and right up my alley <3 Read the tags / warnings closely, please! Also, I KNOW that TVs wouldn't stream live snuff films lmao. Let's just pretend that this is a secret channel that only the truly sick and twisted people know about <3

And also? Minors, do not interact!

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

“So, Voxxy, how’s your and wifey’s sex life? Anything interesting happening lately?”

He was sitting with Valentino in his apartment. Angel Dust wasn’t here at the moment; apparently he was working. So, Valentino had invited Vox over for a drink. At first, Vox had protested, albeit weakly and not really that genuinely; there was something so enigmatic about Valentino. It drew him in, like the swirling power a maelstrom had over a God-forsaken ship.

Vox blinked at him over the rim of his glass.

“And, pray tell, why should I divulge that to you?”

Valentino laughed loudly and flicked popcorn in his face. Vox scoffed.

“Oh, come now, live a little! Don’t be so fucking uptight, Voxxy, it’s not a good look on you. No one likes a stick in the mud.”

Vox couldn’t help the corners of his lips twitching slightly.

“Not quite true, now is it? It got you to me.”

Valentino snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, but only because you’re so cute. But now, come on, tell me something naughty you and your little wife have been up to!”

Vox sighed loudly, rolling his eyes as well. He made sure to make it extra dramatic.

“Fine, you incorrigible, insatiable little shit.”

Valentino whooped and punched holes in the air while Vox got to thinking. The kinkiest thing he and his wife had done? Well, it wasn’t like they were outrageously sexual, or kinky for that matter.

He scratched the back of his head. Valentino raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing.”

“I do, okay!” Vox snapped. “It just... might take a little while.”

Valentino groaned loudly and rolled onto his back after flicking another popcorn into Vox’s face. It fell into his drink.

“Do ya want some inspiration?”

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I could tell ya what Angel and I get up to.”

“No!” Vox immediately said, blushing fiercely when Valentino raised an eyebrow at him again, despite his almost comical position on the floor.

“No?” he questioned.

Vox groaned and set his drink on a nearby table.

“And why’s that, Voxxy baby?” Valentino purred. “Are you jealous of all the fun, naughty things he and I do on a regular basis?”

Vox blushed harder, wishing he could melt into the floorboards under him. He looked away from Valentino.

“As if,” he snorted with a supplementary roll of his eyes. “I don’t want to know what kind of heinous, God-affronting sex you two have.”

Deep down, though, he had to admit that he was... curious, at the very least. He was happy with the sex he had with his wife, yet he couldn’t help but feel there was... something lacking. He didn’t know what, and although he was sure that Valentino would be all too happy to help, Vox wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It could be something really complicated; something that would make him wish for simpler times. On the other hand, though... it could be something really simple that they could easily implement in the bedroom. His wife didn’t strike him as a prude; she had been more than happy to accommodate some of his more... interesting requests.

“Too bad,” Valentino hummed with a shrug of his shoulders, sitting up to take a sip of his drink before laying down again. “I’m sure it would rock your world!”

“I’m sure it would,” Vox said, not without a certain degree of fondness in his voice that he refused to acknowledge.

Not much time passed before Valentino opened his mouth again. He had that damning smile on his lips; the smile that said he had a good question lined up, ready to shoot.

“Okay, Voxxy. You don’t seem the kind of guy to be into heinous shit, so lemme ask ya; have you ever heard of snuff films?”

Vox looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I have not.”

“Do you wanna hear about it?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

“Oh, it’ll be to die for,” Valentino promised and sat up so fast Vox briefly thought he had spilled his drink.

“What is it?” Vox asked, caution lining his voice.

“You’ll see. Don’t worry, Voxxy, I only have the best snuff films available.”

He got up from the floor and went to the television, turning the appropriate dials. Vox followed him carefully with his eyes as he flopped back against the couch where Vox sat. When the television finally came to life, the screen was black and white and somewhat static. A few seconds later, however, the picture turned sharp, and revealed some sort of news announcement.

Vox glanced at Valentino who moved to the television again, turning more dials until the picture became that of... a dungeon of sorts? It sure looked like a dungeon, or perhaps a basement. Albeit, the rocky walls were lined with a wide array of tools. Some looked like the garden variety, others seemed to be fit for a dentist. Other than those, there were hammers and saws and shears, in an assortment of sizes.

Vox’s stomach sank. His throat tightened. His palms were suddenly clammy.

What, exactly, was going to happen in this ‘film’?

In the middle of the dungeon - or basement, or whatever - there was a massive bed, with a headboard made of metal bars. The bed was bathed in a harsh light, shining down on and revealing a bound and naked lady. She was conventionally attractive; not too skinny but not too fat either. Long hair that looked well-kempt.

Vox swallowed hard.

Her hands were tied to the metal bars of the headboard with rough-looking ropes, and her ankles fastened with heavy-looking chains to the bottom of the bed.

She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were closed. She looked... almost peaceful.

Feeling as if he was being strangled, Vox was about to ask if she was even alive, when he saw her chest rising and falling slowly, steadily. Sleeping, then.

“Is snuff film some term I’m not familiar with that means boring film?” Vox asked, trying to line his voice with bravery and sarcasm, rather than the all-encompassing dread that was thrumming in his veins.

Valentino chuckled darkly and bumped their shoulders together.

“Oh, just you wait,” he purred and leaned back in the couch, looking way too nonchalant. “The good stuff is about to happen.”

From the screen came the sound of a heavy iron door slamming shut, although it wasn’t on-screen. Vox went ramrod straight. Valentino snickered, patting his thigh absently, which made Vox jump.

“You’ve... seen this one before, then?”

“Plenty of times,” Valentino revealed with a wave of his hand.

As the door loudly slammed shut, the woman jerked slightly. She tried to tug her arms down from the unnatural position, but was stopped by the ropes. The camera was close enough to catch the fear in her eyes.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice shaky. She tried pulling her feet up. The sharp clanking of metal resonated in the otherwise empty room. There was... something about that sound that shouldn’t be as... enticing as it was. Vox instantly felt sick to the pit of his stomach.

“H-Hello?” she tried again, trying to tug herself free, but without success.

A man entered the frame. He was dressed in a black robe with a black hood that completely covered his face.

“Val,” Vox whispered and glanced at Valentino, “I don’t like where this is going.”

Valentino waved a hand dismissively.

“Don’t be a wuss, Voxxy.”

Vox bristled and scoffed. Valentino sent him a way too smug smile.

“I’m not a wuss!”

“Then keep on watching.”

Vox swallowed hard, redirecting his attention to the television screen. He was going to prove to Valentino that he wasn’t a coward. No matter what.

The hooded figure on the screen got closer to the bed. The woman began trembling. She tried harder to get free, but it was futile. The fear in her eyes was very real. It felt... too real, to Vox. Yet, he couldn’t help but keep watching.

“No! Go away! Get away from me!” she cried out, writhing and squirming on the bed.

The hooded figure now stood by the foot of the bed, and the camera angle changed, instead filming the scene as if the viewer watched it through the man’s eyes. The viewer had an unobstructed view of the woman’s intimate parts and her legs flailing the slight bit that the chains allowed.

The bed dipped slightly as the man got onto it, crawling over the woman to get on her eye-level. The camera followed, now focusing on the widening of her eyes, the sweat on her forehead, and her nostrils flaring in fear.

“No, please,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t--- don’t hurt me!”

The man was still quiet. He now pulled back a bit, and the camera showed his hand pushing between the woman’s legs. She gasped, then whimpered, and the flailing intensified. The chains clanked loudly, and the headboard’s iron bars creaked. But other than those sounds, and the woman’s pleas, the room was eerily silent.

Vox was transfixed. He knew where this was headed - he knew of rape. He knew that some people, some truly degenerate people, got off to that. He had never imagined that he, of all people, would watch a film depicting such a heinous act.

The man pushed two dry fingers into her. Vox felt all air leave his lungs. She was clearly not enjoying it and cried out and writhed on the bed, continuously begging the hooded figure to stop. Without relenting, without showing remorse, he began thrusting his fingers. He didn’t so much as groan; he didn’t make a single sound as he violated the woman.

Not even when he replaced his fingers with his - quite large - cock did he produce a sound. The woman, however, cried out. Tears streamed down her face, and her entire body was trembling violently. Gradually, her pleas for mercy died out, instead replaced by her hiccuping sobs.

Vox swallowed heavily. He almost didn’t notice Valentinos hand on his thigh, and only felt a sliver of pleasure when that hand crawled further up his leg.

“Oh, but Voxxy,” he began, but as if his voice was the reason that Vox needed to end the trance, he shook his head hard.

“Val, come on. This is enough, I’ve seen enough. Just stop it already.”

He grabbed Valentinos wrist, making him stop his hand’s advances. It was resting just a few fingers’ width from his crotch.

“But amorcito, I’m helping you. I’m giving you, heh, a hand. There’s no need to be shy about it. Not now. And this,” Valentino forcefully moved his hand to touch Vox’s cock, stroking him through his pants. Vox gasped. “This seems to be agreeing with me, wouldn’t you say so?”

Vox felt sick to his stomach, again.

“Val, please. We’ve already crossed so many fucking lines by watching this.”

“Exactly. So why stop here?” he purred, but Vox was getting antsy. Valentino must have sensed it, because he quickly and smoothly convinced Vox to keep watching. “How about this, then, baby? You keep watching the film. I won’t do anything. Promise. My hand will just stay right here. You keep watching. Nothing will happen. Promise, yeah, baby?”

Vox licked his lips, eyes going back to the screen. The hooded figure was now pushing hard and fast into the poor woman, whose eyes had closed tightly. Her head was tilted to the side, as if she was making double-sure she wouldn’t see her rapist.

He hated to admit it - and never would to another living soul, of course - but his cock was achingly hard. Valentino might just be touching him through his pants, but even so, he could feel himself leaking heavy drops of pre-cum. There would no doubt be a big, wet stain on the front of his pants.

The screaming and crying from the woman continued. Red burn marks from the ropes began appearing on her wrists. Her flailing fluctuated between violent and weak, as if she had accepted her fate.

The harder she was raped, the more labored Vox’s breathing got.

This was... this was real. This was real, actual rape of a real, actual woman. Done by a real, actual man. It was sickening, and Vox wanted it to end. No such luck, though.

“How... how much longer is this movie?” he croaked to Valentino.

“Another half an hour, baby,” Valentino purred against his cheek, sounding oddly out of breath.

Vox hadn’t even noticed how close Valentino had gotten. He barely even noticed how his hand was beginning to move - or was it actually his own hips that bucked so hard Valentino might as well have been jerking him off? Regardless, the sliver of pleasure was now a small wave lapping at his heart.

Then, suddenly, the reassuring heat of Valentino disappeared. Vox realized he had closed his eyes, and opened them in an instant, first fixed on the screen, but then going to Valentino who had slunk to his knees between Vox’s spread legs.

“Val,” he groaned. His eyes flitted back to the screen. The camera was now closer to the man’s cock hammering into the woman’s cunt. “Val, don’t, this is---” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Please, stop.”

“But I’m hardly doing anything,” Valentino purred and stroked Vox’s thighs slowly, from his knees and up to his crotch. “I’m just sitting here. That’s hardly a crime.”

Vox groaned, hating how his cock throbbed. It strained against the front of his pants, and it was starting to get painful. He looked down at Valentino, who looked sinfully enticing. He was all smug smiles and sultry purrs when he spoke again.

“Eyes on the screen, baby. Okay? Keep watching the film, and I’ll keep on doin’ nothin’.”

Vox shuddered. Closing his eyes for a second, they were pulled wide open when a particularly shrill scream brought his attention back to the screen. He wished he hadn’t.

The man’s hands were now wrapped tightly around the woman’s throat as he rammed into her, and an intense frisson of delight coursed through him. The small wave of pleasure had become an all-consuming maelstrom that threatened to bring him down.

“Fuck,” he hissed, leaning his head back a bit before looking at the film once more. Valentino’s hands were slowly sliding up his thighs, but this time, they didn’t back down again. Instead, they seemed to be busying themselves opening his pants. “Val, please,” he hissed, then moaned when his cock sprang free.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Valentino purred, forcing the pants and underwear down around his thighs, “keep your eyes on the screen. It gets so good, okay? Promise.”

Vox was half tempted to ask if this wasn’t the good part, but bit his tongue before he could entertain Valentino’s sick and twisted idea of a porno. Instead, he kept watching.

The man was putting more pressure on the woman’s throat, and arched his back slightly as he slammed harder and faster into her. Her screams soon became muffled and raspy from the choking.

Then there was a warm wetness on his cock, and Vox almost doubled over from the, frankly, obscene amount of pleasure that surged through him in that moment. He looked down to see that Valentino had taken his cock in his mouth and was now working him with the determination of a skilled and very well paid prostitute.

“Fuck, Val!” he hissed and immediately lowered a hand to Valentino’s head. Whether to push him away, or... pull him closer, Vox didn’t know, and thus, his hand hovered a few inches above Valentino’s skull.

Valentino moaned, and that reworked Vox’s moral compass so hard that he decided which it would be. He grabbed the back of Valentino’s head with both hands and pulled him closer. Valentino let out a muffled, but deeply pleased sound while easily swallowing him down.

His heart beat so fast it felt as though it was trying to escape his ribcage. It made him feel sick, but it made him sicker to watch the film while being throat-deep in Valentino.

“Val, I-I-I can’t, please, stop,” he panted, even as he began thrusting into Valentino’s mouth, his hands not even allowing him to move away. Valentino’s hands came up to rest on his thighs, letting his nails gently scrape over his flushed skin.

The hooded figure was now panting. Not loud, and not a lot, but enough that it was audible, even through the woman’s sobs and whimpers and pleas. It was a deep, guttural sound that spoke to something primal within Vox.

Each thrust in the film, he mirrored by pushing into Valentino, and Valentino, as if he had prepared for this, moaned and whined with the same volume as the woman on the screen.

“V-Val, your neighbors,” Vox hissed, one eye closing slightly. He felt Valentino wanting to pull back, but for some reason, he couldn’t get himself to let go.

Heat coursed through him. A tight knot - the tightest he had ever felt it - formed in his lower stomach where it threatened to become so hot and heavy that it would burn his stomach right out of his body.

This was sick! Sick! Twisted! Depraved! And he was... getting off to it? What had become of him?

“Please, please please please,” he gasped once he felt the knot become so unbearably tight. He kept ramming into Valentino’s mouth, pushing into his throat.

The inevitable was coming sooner than he would have liked.

“Val, please, I’m going t-to come,” he rasped, unable to stop himself from thrusting hard and fast, unable to let go of Valentino’s head, and, maybe most importantly, unable to look away from the screen.

Valentino’s hands slid to his rear end, squeezing hard, as if urging him to continue. He was moaning and sucking loudly on Vox’s cock, using his tongue to press against the underside of the throbbing, jerking cock in his mouth.

Vox’s heart was racing. The gears in his head turned at a velocity that rendered them red hot. Yet, despite feeling the thoughts, he couldn’t pluck out a single one. They simply moved too fast.

“Val, Valentino, please---”

And Valentino rewarded his desperate pleas with a move so impressive and bold that Vox was forced to come on the spot.

Valentino pushed past his gag reflex, taking Vox so deep that his nose brushed against the coarse hair of his crotch. At the same time, one of his hands cupped his balls, squeezing them gently, as if coaxing him to shoot his load straight down his throat.

“Fuck! Val!” Vox cried out, white-hot pleasure burning through his veins and rendering his brain absolutely useless. The gears finally stopped turning. His heart felt like it had stopped working as well. For a wonderfully long moment, his head was quiet. There was nothing but the pleasant buzzing and the blissful fogginess of a world-class orgasm.

It all came to an abrupt stop as the hooded figure reached his climax mere seconds later, prompting the woman to gasp as she felt his hot seed shoot inside her.

Valentino slowly pulled away from Vox, smirking up at him in a way that Vox really did not like.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re into snuff, baby,” he snickered. Vox groaned and put both hands on his face.

“I liked you better when you couldn’t talk.”

Valentino laughed, although the sound was a bit grating from the rough treatment.

“Well, give me a gag, then, and we might have ourselves a deal.”

Vox glared at him through his fingers.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Valentino pouted before getting up to sit next to Vox. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit one, putting it between his lips. Having taken a deep drag, he offered it to Vox who looked at the wispy smoke that rose from it. He swallowed hard.

Why the fuck not? What was a little smoking compared to getting off to snuff films? He had already crossed that unspeakable line, so why not indulge himself in another sinful habit?

#text #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin fic #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox #staticmoth #voxval #valentino hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #my post #my writing #im sorry for not being sorry about putting this on y'all's dash #those 5 people who haven't blocked me yet - i see you. i love you <3

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slimeywooper · 8 months ago

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Labmas AU - Unintended Consequences

Chapter 17 - Retribution/Renewal: Notes

It's best to read the story first before reading these as there's definitely going to be spoilers.

Nobori isn't haunted by the spirits of the people he kills. He burns them. This doesn't destroy them, but it forces them to 'move on.' (I realize this is different than what the Pokedex entries say, but Nobori has learned to go a step further than just making the spirits lost.) The random ones he encounters don't affect him enough to do anything about. He has learned to block them out when he doesn't want to interact with them, like changing the frequency of a radio. But with Kudari's spirit, he can't bring himself to block him out or force him to move on. He lets him stay as long as he likes, and speaks with him as if he were still alive. Nobori already knew Colress was an asshole to Kudari, but was never told about all the things that happened when he wasn't around. Yet again, this is from something I believe I read before: that abusers wait until they are alone with their victims to truly hurt them. Other people might hear a little of the abuse, or have an idea, but they don't get a front row seat, for obvious reasons. Now that Kudari is dead, he's finally divulging all the things he kept from Nobori over the years.

Alvis mentions getting the Pokemon to be a punishment, by that he means because it's not something that correlates to his area of study. Most of the assistants, barring Reader, are training to become researchers someday. So because he forgot something when setting up the other day, he thinks Frank is making him do the 'easy' work, instead of something more in-depth, and relating to the actual experiment. Frank didn't actually intend for it to be a punishment, he just doesn't want to deal with any mistakes.

When Colress calls Reader in the morning, he sends them to go help Frank to get them out of their room so he can search it. He was planning to just calmly fire Reader and keep them at headquarters, but discovering Kudari's badge is gone causes him to lose it. He did something similar to Nobori. He sent him on a mission to check his room, but it also served to let Colress be alone with Reader.

I want the dorms to have different types. The nicer ones, like the one that Reader is in, are basically like small apartments. They have a tiny kitchen, bathroom, shower, washing machine, dryer, etc. Reader gets a nice room because of their "deal" with Colress in the first chapter, giving him their house. Other grunts that are established and held in high regard within TP may get one of these rooms as well, but the cost is deducted out of their paycheck. The less expensive rooms are more like typical dorms, some of them housing multiple grunts.

Nobori talks to Colress after he meets Reader in their room, which is why Colress knows he's returned from his latest mission.

Colress has kept Kudari's name badge for years, and looks at it occasionally when he is alone and feeling nostalgic. These instances would have increased after Kudari's death. Nobori didn't realize how important it was to him, just that it was his property, and if he saw it missing, would know Nobori was being insubordinate by taking it.

Nobori placed the package to Reader in the outgoing mail pile for Team Plasma headquarters. Nobody that works in the office is going to tell the tall, scary guy, 'no.' Most grunts may not know who he is, or what his exact function is within Team Plasma, but it's common knowledge he works with Colress at the laboratory.

I realize this ending has gone off the rails, and no, it isn't an April Fools joke. While writing, it felt like the best way for things to go. I guess this negates the 'no happy ending tag,' but that was more for the hybrids than Reader, so it still stands in a way.

So that's it for the story! I still have more to say on it, but I will put that in a separate work for anyone that's interested. Thank you to everyone that made it this far, and even more so to the people that have endured my autistic notes! As much as I have enjoyed writing it, I'm glad it's done. I started it sometime in August 2023, and posted some chapters on Tumblr before I got my AO3 account. It feels nice to finish it, and I can definitely see the improvement in my writing when I go back and reread the first few chapters, though I'm positive there are plenty of mistakes I have missed throughout the whole thing. As my first work of fiction, I'm proud of how it turned out. Any questions or comments are appreciated. I've said it before, but it bears repeating, if I haven't explained something adequately, feel free to let me know. Sometimes It looks good to me but I don't realize it's hard for other people to understand what I'm trying to convey. But, once again, thank you for reading!

#labmas au #hybrid au #colress #nobori #kudari #submas au

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abybweisse · 2 years ago

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@eemoo1o-animoo

Tag asks

1. Undertaker says it's been at least 50 years since anyone had called him a reaper. And Othello says, in ch149, it's been about 70 years since Undertaker (as 136649) tried to escape and destroyed half of reaper HQ. So, if Undertaker and Othello are both correct about the passage of time, then Undertaker tried to escape around 1819 but failed... and finally succeeded around 1839, but probably snuck out instead of creating a big scene. Considering other stuff in the timeline, like Molly/Mally G's locket and when the queen ascended to the throne, he might have finally deserted at the end of 1837. Of course, if at least half a century/50 years is some understatement of his, he might have actually deserted around 1819.... the year Victoria and Albert were born. It's also the year Ivanhoe was originally published (has Cedric of Rotherwood giving off lots of Undertaker as Cedric K. Ros-- vibes). Othello might be better at timekeeping? I mean, in ch151, Undertaker says (admits) that 30-something years feel like essentially nothing to him. Without daily reports to make to reaper HQ, Undertaker might have lost some sense of time. But I don't think so, at least not when it matters, since his decisions must be based on things that were/are important to him, and he probably has those dates locked in his brain. If anything, Undertaker is probably being vague on purpose... and Othello is being more precise on purpose. Doesn't mean that Othello knows everything or has divulged everything he knows... and Undertaker might have truly deserted later than that "attempt" in 1819. So, Undertaker definitely deserted sometime between 1819 and 1839, and that's the absolute best answer I have for that, so far! 😆

2. Honestly, as I said above, Undertaker really shouldn't be wrong about his own timeline, if only because the things that determine his life choices are major events to him, and he probably recalls the dates all too well. The dates on those lockets, for one. Major historical events, like when Victoria was born, when Victoria became queen, when she married Albert, when Prince Albert died, etc. As well as personal dates he doesn't have lockets for, like Vincent and Frances/Francis being born (says he recalls "Lady Phantomhive's" birth as if it had just occurred), the attack and fire at Phantomhive Manor (Vincent's death), the night of the ritual sacrifice (he shows up to take real Ciel's body), and so on.

3. This means he might have deserted his post when Cloudia/Claudia was 9 years old... or a good 20 years before she was even born. I think it's somewhat safe to say that he didn't desert his post specifically for her. He could have met her while working with her father... or even while working with her grandfather, since no one seems to remain as watchdog for very long. Perhaps he saw watchdog after watchdog die, and when she became watchdog, it was too much for him to bear. It's also possible he never met her at all until she was watchdog, and they met during one of her early investigations. Vincent was 15 when he became watchdog, and it might be safe to assume she was also in her teens when she became watchdog. In order to avoid the whole "grooming" thing, I sure hope she was at least 17-18 when they met. If they met earlier than that, then we have to consider the possibility of grooming... or of him keeping his distance but watching her grow up, and both are disturbing thoughts. Considering what little we know of him, and how I see him as a parent and grandparent -- and how he took real Ciel to watch what our earl was doing as watchdog -- it's entirely possible he'd been keeping an eye on her for many years before they even met.... Still a bit cringe, I'd say. 😬 I would not put it past Yana-san to make him a super-creep in this way, all things considered. Hopefully not the grooming thing (major yuck) but the "watching from afar" thing (still a bit yuck).

Hi there, I have questions about Undertaker and Claudia Phantomhive as a couple. Does the mange show when they first met up with each other? How old was Claudia when this has happened? Was she an adult, or a 16/17 year old teenager? Was she a married woman, or a single mother? Were they an official couple in their society?

Undertaker and Claudia/Cloudia

Assuming they were a couple, and that Undertaker is Cedric K. Ros--:

1. We don't know when they first met. The best I can say is before 1851. 😉

2. We don't know what age she was when they first met. But she was born in 1830, had Vincent in 1851, had Frances/Francis later (though that could be minutes later, if they turn out to be fraternal twins), and died in 1866. If we knew the year they met, we would get a better idea of how their relationship must have evolved.

3. Idk for sure, but I should think she was single and had no kids when they met. If Vincent is truly her first child (and I suspect so), then she didn't have any kids until she was 21.

4. They might have been an official couple in some inner circle, but probably not official in general society. I very much doubt she would have wanted the queen (for instance) to know about any relationship with him. I suspect the queen finding out about their relationship has something to do with Claudia/Cloudia's death.

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moxfirefly · 4 years ago

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Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello x female reader #donnie tmnt #donatello tmnt #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #Donatello #Donnie #ns*w #oneshot

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little-mad · 3 years ago

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Downsides of Thievery Pt. 13 (Final)

~ Previous Part ~

Gavin couldn’t stop himself from turning over his shoulder to look at Rael, who apparently had information about his theft from the alteon diplomat. Immediately, Gavin was suspicious. What information could Rael possibly have about something he hadn’t witnessed? Anything he knew that the Emperor wouldn’t already, would have to have come from Gavin himself… “Oh shit, he’s not really talking about that is he?”

What did Rael hope to gain in telling the Emperor that Gavin had been commissioned to steal from the diplomat? Was he just doing his duty as a soldier by divulging everything he knew? Or was there something more to it? When Gavin had first told Rael that he had been hired to steal the ring, he’d seemed surprised, but hadn’t expressed any desire to confess the truth. Then again, Gavin had already proven unable to read Rael.

“Very well, go ahead,” the Emperor prompted, hands folded on the table as he looked at Rael with interest.

Gavin stared back at his former captor, unable to take his eyes off the giant man. “While Gavin Stone chose not to disclose this to the public, in our time together he did reveal to me that he was in fact hired by a third party to burgle Lady Elyth,” Rael explained smoothly. “So while Gavin Stone did perform the actual deed, the idea was not his own.” His voice had the same formal, all business tone it’d had when Gavin first met him, and yet this time there was a vague hint of...was it desperation? No, it couldn’t be. Gavin had to be just imagining things at this point.

The Emperor gave an interested hum. “Intriguing,” he remarked before turning to look at Gavin. “Is this true?” he inquired.

While Gavin hadn’t been planning on explaining the full circumstances of the robbery to the Emperor, he wasn’t about to deny it now that Rael had done so. Lying at this point would only make him look more suspicious than he already did. “Yes, sir,” Gavin replied, hoping the honorific wasn’t an improper term to use with the Emperor.

The giant sovereign gave a nod of understanding. He took a long, thoughtful pause as he considered the new information before focusing back on Gavin. “Is there a reason you didn’t report this?” he asked, a serious look in those yellow eyes of his.

God, it was intimidating enough being stared at by a giant, but being stared at by a giant who ruled over an entire dimension of giants was just something else entirely. And Gavin had thought meeting Orlando Bloom at a music festival when he was seventeen had been daunting. Gavin swallowed. “Keep it together,” he ordered himself. If he wanted the Emperor to treat him like a person, it was possible he would need to earn his respect first.

“Sir, whether I was hired or not doesn’t change the fact that I committed the crime,” Gavin started. “And since I don’t know the real name of the man who hired me, I didn’t see a point in reporting it to authorities.” There was also the fact that Gavin had never really been one to snitch, especially on his fellow criminals, but he wasn’t about to say that part in a room with a soldier and a political leader.

“I see,” the Emperor responded pensively. “Well, I consider taking responsibility for your own actions to be quite noble,” he told Gavin with complete sincerity in his voice. “Truthfully, I never took Ashryn’s suggestion very seriously,” he admitted. “I’ve worked quite hard to develop a peaceful and friendly relationship with humankind, and I am not about to undo that by mistreating my first human convict.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. Did he hear that right? Did the Emperor really just, one after the other, call him noble and say that he wouldn’t lock him up in a display cage? It was hard for Gavin not to let a wave of relief crash over him. The news was great, but he still didn’t know what fate did await him. Not being treated like an animal really was the bare minimum after all.

“Um...so what are you planning to do with me?” Gavin found himself asking. He was sick and tired of the uncertainty, of not knowing what was in store for him. Whatever his sentence might be, he just wanted to know what it was already so he could start figuring out how to cope with it.

The Emperor’s eyebrows lifted slightly. He seemed somewhat taken aback by Gavin’s abrupt question. It was possible the man wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to that way. Gavin hoped he hadn’t done something taboo. He wasn’t intending to be disrespectful, he just really didn’t know how to interact with literal royalty.

Apparently, the Emperor wasn’t too upset, because a small smile had taken form on his face. “Well,” he began, glancing back at Rael. “I find myself quite fascinated by your willingness to speak up in front of me in order to defend this human.”

“Is that what he did?” Gavin asked himself. Had Rael really been standing up for him? Was it really more than him just doing his job?

“You were aware that many important figures have negative opinions of Gavin Stone, and yet you risked your reputation by speaking up for him,” the Emperor went on.

Suddenly everything was beginning to make a lot more sense. The whole scene out in the hallway...it had been all about Rael protecting his reputation. He couldn’t choose a human over an alteon, lest he risk being looked down upon by his peers. Of course, none of that made what he’d done okay, but at least Gavin understood why now. “Does this mean he had some kind of change of heart...is that why he told the Emperor about me being hired…?” he pondered to himself.

The Emperor’s gaze suddenly returned to Gavin. “I believe I have decided what your sentence will be,” he announced firmly, a satisfied smile on his face that Gavin wasn’t sure how to take. “Since the two of you have clearly established the foundations of a relationship, I have decided that, in order to atone for your crime, you will serve under Rael as an assistant for a minimum of one year.”

Gavin’s mouth fell open, but before he could even form a coherent thought, he heard Rael’s stunned voice exclaim from behind him, “What?!”

The word had slipped from Rael’s mouth before he could stop it. He had just been so shocked by the Emperor’s announcement that all thoughts of propriety and manners suddenly flew out the window. “Sorry, your majesty,” he quickly recovered. “I just--I wasn’t expecting that.”

Take a human on as an assistant?! It was completely unheard of--of course it was unheard of, humans were tiny people who lived in another realm, why would one ever serve as an assistant to a common alteon soldier? Rael didn’t even know what to think. The Emperor clearly trusted him enough to put Gavin in his ward, but what the hell was Rael supposed to do with a diminutive person tagging along with him while he worked? Plus there was the matter of he and Gavin’s last encounter. Something told Rael the human didn’t much want to hang around with the person who had threatened him not once, but twice within a few hours.

“I’m aware that it’s unorthodox, but to be frank, this entire situation is unorthodox,” the Emperor stated. “This way, Gavin Stone will be able to serve his punishment while learning about and experiencing our realm.” It seemed the relationship between alteons and humans was even more important to the Emperor than Rael had realized--he was completely breaking away from the norm for the sake of diplomacy.

“Are you sure it won’t be too dangerous?” Rael had to ask. On a regular basis, his job wasn’t typically overly treacherous, but even the mildest thing to him could be potentially life threatening to someone as small as Gavin.

The Emperor offered a gentle smile. “I’m certain Gavin Stone will be quite safe in your hands, Rael.” It was easy for him to say that, he didn’t know what Rael had done just ten minutes prior--if he did, he would probably never let Gavin within a hundred feet of the temper-prone excuse for an Imperial Guard soldier.

“Uh--excuse me, sir,” Gavin piped up nervously. He was facing towards the Emperor, so Rael couldn’t see his facial expression. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see it. “What exactly can someone like me do as an assistant?” the human inquired, voicing the question that Rael had been pondering.

“You will do whatever Rael requests of you,” the Emperor told him simply, then turning to Rael said, “You may utilize him as your assistant how you see fit, so long as he isn’t put in significant danger of course.” Rael couldn’t believe how much faith the Emperor seemingly had in him. Where did it come from? This was by far the longest interaction he’d ever had with the ruler of Iaela, so why did he seem to trust a random soldier so much? “I’ll have some furniture and attire made up to suit a human. You are also free to request any accommodations you think you may need,” the Emperor added, already scrawling down notes on a sheet of parchment.

Rael opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He’d gone from disliking humans to being made the guardian of one in a matter of hours. He still wasn’t sure about his opinion on humanity as a whole, but he couldn’t deny the fact that one particular human had penetrated the tough exterior he had built around himself.

Like it or not, Rael cared about Gavin. He never would have spoken up to the Emperor if he hadn’t. As strange and inexplicable as it may be, he needed to accept the reality of the situation. Gavin would be his ward for at least a year. They would be spending a lot of time with each other. Rael couldn’t keep pretending to be indifferent to the tiny man.

After being dismissed from the meeting with the Emperor, Gavin had been carried off by Rael, taken to what he could only assume was Rael’s quarters. The entire trip there had been silent, because what the hell was Gavin supposed to say? He was so mentally and emotionally confused at this point that he couldn’t even begin to make sense of anything.

Rael’s room was small and simple; it contained only a bed, side table, and little chest of drawers. On the way in, Gavin had noticed the hallway had been filled with doors, which led him to believe this area was entirely made up of the rooms of soldiers. At least Rael had his own space, the last thing Gavin needed at the moment was to be faced with more alteons.

“Gavin,” Rael spoke up, finally breaking the silence that had stretched out between the two of them. “I know you’re probably not pleased with this arrangement.” Gavin stared up at Rael from where he stood on the bedside table. The giant was sitting on his bed, but of course, he was still looming high over the human. “I...I understand why you would feel that way,” Rael’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, Gavin could hardly believe this was the same person who had yelled at him earlier.

A long sigh blew out from between Gavin’s lips. “I sure hope you’re leading up to an apology here,” he snipped, folding his arms firmly over his chest. He wasn’t going to put up with some indirect expression of regret, nah--that wasn’t going to fly. If Rael wanted his forgiveness, he would have to make an apology as clear and plain as day.

There was no derision or amusement on Rael’s face, just a solemn frown. “Ashryn wanted me to prove myself by...reigning you in,” the alteon explained in a stormy tone. “I was too afraid of harming my reputation to not take the bait.” Clearly Gavin’s assumptions had been right. “But I was wrong...and weak for not standing up to Ashryn. For that, I am sorry.” It was hard to believe Gavin was hearing those words being directed at him from Rael. A few hours ago it would have seemed impossible.

As good as it was to hear the apology, Gavin still felt like there was something Rael wasn’t entirely grasping. “Listen, I know I look pretty tough, but you’ve gotta realize how--how freaky it is when you use your size against me.” Admitting he was afraid wasn’t really something Gavin loved to do, especially considering he was trying to convince alteons that humans weren’t weak little babies, but Rael needed to know the effect his actions had.

The size disparity between the room’s occupants suddenly became even more strikingly apparent. Gavin was standing and Rael was sitting, and yet Rael still absolutely towered over the human. No matter how equal the two may be intellectually, Rael would always have a huge automatic advantage over Gavin--and that was something they would both have to come to adapt to if they were going to be living and working with each other for the foreseeable future.

“Are you afraid of me?” The sudden question stunned Gavin. He wasn’t sure why, because it had always been something in the back of his mind. Maybe it was just shocking hearing Rael ask it so bluntly.

Gavin paused. How was he supposed to answer this? He had definitely had fear inflicted on him by Rael on multiple occasions, but was he really and truly afraid of the guy? Gavin gave a weak shrug. “I don’t really know...I guess sometimes…” Rael gave a tight nod, as if he had been expecting that response. “But other times you’re just a big, awkward dork,” Gavin quickly added.

A very slight smile pulled at the corner of Rael’s lips. “Alright, I’ll promise not to use my size against you anymore, if you can promise not to call me a ‘dork’ again,” he said the words so seriously, and yet the growing grin on the alteon’s face gave him away.

Gavin chuckled. “Fine, but you gotta promise not to give me any weird assistant jobs, like polishing your scabbard or some shit.” He really didn’t know how much someone of his size could really be of use to a giant, but he supposed this arrangement was better than being thrown into a cage.

Rael raised a single dark eyebrow. “Oh, but you’re probably the only one that could actually reach the inside.”

A grumpy frown took shape on Gavin’s face. “Okay, next rule: no size jokes at my expense!”

A warm, genuine laugh escaped from Rael. In a flash the giant man was reaching forward, and before Gavin could dodge backwards, a massive index finger was ruffling his hair, making the already messy locks even more of a disaster. “No promises.”

Gavin let out a long sigh. Somehow he had gone from being a professional thief to the assistant to a gigantic, elf-eared man from another dimension. “At least it’s more exciting than being a damn doctor.”

I was originally gonna make this two parts but I decided to just make it one big chunky final chapter! This story was kind of like the introductory prologue to Gavin and Rael so there's definitely room for more about them in the future if people are interested. I had a ton of fun writing this and totally appreciate all the nice comments and such that I got!

I've got a busy few weeks ahead of me but feel free to send in prompts/commissions for my ocs. I just may take a little while to actually get to them.

#ending on lucky number 13 i guess #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #g/t fluff #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Title: coward :: epilogue Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, heavy mentions of abortion, and brief mentions of trauma

notes:

we’ve finally reached it guys! the end :”> this story has been one of the things i’m very much proud of. From this chapter onwards, it’s all just fluff and well Atsumu and Y/N content. thank you for sticking around despite the slow burns and see you on the side stories and the drabbles. ill be accepting eight drabbles for this story and it’ll be open after all the side stories are complete, uwu.

previous masterlist [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

“...I wonder how you put them to bed.”

“They usually sleep immediately after I give them a glass of milk.” You blinked, looking up from your paperwork, “Did they give you a hard time again?”

“They chunked a pillow at me and that started a pillow fight.”

Soft laughter filled the room and Atsumu felt his heart soften at the sound of that, such a beautiful laugh you had.

It’s been a year since that confrontation but it feels so surreal whenever he wakes up to see you lying next to him, snuggled on his chest or the kids suddenly barging into the room to catapult themselves to bed with you two.

Him, you, children.

A family.

“Are you not going to sleep yet?”

“No,” You breathed, shifting through paper works,“I have to finish this if I want to watch your game next week.”

“Can I lay on your lap then?”

“We have a very big bed.” You deadpanned, you were still stoic and blank as ever but comparing to before, you were more open to him with your emotions and thoughts. Albeit, he didn’t know much about why you ran away - Daiki says to give you some time - or what happened with your family, he doesn’t mind because he promised he’d wait and be patient with you.

Atsumu even suggests that if you can’t talk to him about it, he’d willingly look for good psychiatrists around the area to help with your trauma. The sessions seem to be going well so far, albeit it was slow, you were finally taking the proper steps to heal.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Atsumu grinned childishly and situated himself on your lap. Unknowingly, you’d start playing with his hair. He suddenly feels like he’s about to doze off by the domestic gesture and the familiar sound of your breathing but he is immediately awoken by the small voice of yours.

“Do you want to know why I never introduced you to my family?” you suddenly asked, his eyes slowly turned towards you yet you continue to play with his hair nonchalantly as if you weren’t talking about a heavy topic, “Our situation was a lot like my parents. I was born when my okaasan was in the middle of studying medicine and my otosan was a law student.”

Atsumu remains quiet as he listens to your story.

“They were both from very rich families with promising futures, they dated, they were happy until I happened…” You paused, continuing to play with his hair, “Okaasan wasn’t able to finish her course and she got depressed because of that, her family had turned her back on her. So she begged otosan to marry her even if he didn’t want to so that she could finish her degree and return to her family.”

You continue your story; telling him everything about how your father fell out of love with your mother, how scared you were of your mother growing up, how she quit being a doctor because she was an alcoholic and almost sued for drinking on the job, and how you came to the realization that you weren’t supposed to be born when you were only eight years old, “...that night we met at the frat party was the day of my otosan’s wedding to his mistress, they had called out how the previous wedding and me was a mistake as a joke but it still kind of stinged.” You confessed, “I didn’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t met you that night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was soft, comforting even and it made you smile because despite his rather loud attitude, he understood you very well and was very patient with you.

He’s empathetic and it makes you wonder why you even ran away in the first place, maybe Daiki was right that night seven years ago, maybe you should’ve told him and stayed with him.

“Whenever I was with you back then, you didn’t make me feel that way so I didn’t want to spoil it or destroy that feeling. I didn’t want you to see me in that light.” You divulged, recalling the memories you had with him, “I felt like I was supposed to be there with you. You were a reminder that it was alright to be alive. That I wasn’t a mistake.”

Comfortable silence fills the air as he takes it all in.

Atsumu takes a hold of your hand that’s playing with his hair and gives it a comforting peck, “Was that also why you couldn’t tell me back then that you were pregnant?”

“You were being scouted for the jackals that time and I was scared we’d end up like my parents because I disrupted your dreams.” You ran your hands through his hair again, playing with the blonde strands, “I didn’t want the kids yet at the same time I couldn’t abort them because they were yours.It was very confusing.”

“Would you...Would you have pushed through with it? With the abortion?”

“Probably.” you blinked, recalling that moment you were at the clinic,you recalled the feeling of nervousness as you waited for them to call your name, “With the past I had, I doubt I would’ve made a good mother. Would you have hated me if I had done it?”

“No. I don’t think I would.I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love those brats, I love this family but at the end of the day, it would’ve been your choice.” He replies softly, drawing small circles on your hands, “It would’ve been better if you went up to me and told me though, at least I would’ve been there.”

“Well, in the end, I didn’t push through. I couldn’t do it. They were yours as much as they were mine and I couldn’t let that go after breaking off with you.” you paused, “I also told myself that they’d never feel that way, that they’d never feel as if they were born out of a mistake.”

“And you did a damn good job at it.” He complimented, “You placed your own okaasan to shame.”

“You placed my otosan to shame too…” You smiled softly, suddenly a question popped in your head, you might as well ask it now since the timing seemed to be better than ever, “Would you like to get married?”

Atsumu’s eyes immediately widen at what you said and he sits up, “What the hell, Y/N? I should be the one asking that!” He loudly exclaims and you cover his mouth to muffle his voice.

“The kids are asleep.” You choke back a laughter, shushing him, “And I think it should be me the one who should ask for your hand, after all the shit I put you through-”

The blonde setter takes your hands off his mouth and cuts you off, “First of all, that was my choice. Second of all, how many times do I have to tell you that we were both at fault there? We’re doing a damn good job now. Mind you,” he immediately scrambles out of the bed right after before you could say anything else and looks through his sock dresser, he takes out a small box and your eyes widen, is that what you thought it was?

“I was supposed to give it to you when I officially got in the jackals back then.” Atsumu sheepishly confessed, “I couldn’t throw it away after you left, it was the little hope I guess that you’d come back. I mean, I’ll get you a new one now since i got-”

“I didn’t think you were the sappy type.” You glazed, cutting him off, completely enamored by the gesture, “You’re very cheesy.”

“Only to you.”

You scrunch your nose, faking a disgusted look but Atsumu knows better than that and just crawls back in your arms and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips that you reciprocate almost immediately. It’s slow, languid, and passionate. Something people wouldn’t expect from someone like him.

“Don’t bother buying a new one, I think I like this one better.” You smiled, pulling away as you hold out your hand in which he happily puts on the simple band. He looks into your eyes again, the eyes he loved looking at since he was nineteen. The eyes that were filled with so much emotion that it always contrasted your face that was void of emotions. The same eyes that he dreamed his kids (and they did) to have when he asked you that one night if you wanted to have a family.

“I’m in love with you.” you break the silence.

You never said those words out loud before to him but hearing it now, after all that you’ve both been through. It’s worth it.

He’d do it all again just to be in this moment.

“I’m very much in love with you too.” He grins, leaning back in for another kiss.

Finally…

Finally he was able to catch up with you.

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046 ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ; @differentballooncollection ; @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ; @keijislut ;

@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi @brownie0food @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#coward series #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyu angst #miya atsumu angst #atsumu x you #atsumu angst

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minor-solemnity · 3 years ago

Text

To be a Seer pt.4

Tag List: @jinxqsu @naps-and-lemons @riddles-wifey @mainlynonsense @cakesarecute @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

You learn that girl is Annabel Wheatley. A third-year Hufflepuff student who, according to the chattering of your peers, is kind, quiet, and loves Care of Magical Creatures more than anything. The rumours surrounding her petrification spread like wildfire throughout the school, people who’ve never spoken to you before start stopping you in the hallway to ask if it’s true that you had seen the person who did it? if her body had really been hanging from the ceiling? if Tom Riddle had really run all the way from the sixth floor in order to protect you from the monster lurking in the school? You tell everyone who asks the truth. You don’t know who did it, Annabel had been sitting at her desk, Tom Riddle had not run anywhere to protect you from anything.

No one seems to believe this last correction. And you’re not sure you can really blame them; in the weeks following the attack, Riddle has taken to escorting you to and from class, acting for all the world to see, as your protector. He politely asks anyone who goes near you to leave you alone - “Can’t you see that this is incredibly hard for her? Do I need to start handing out detentions?” - to anyone who doesn’t know better, Riddle is a worried boyfriend who can’t stand to see his beloved so upset. Even Lizzie and Lucas seem sceptical.

“You must admit, it’s awfully strange that he’s suddenly showing you so much interest,” Lizzie says one evening in the common room as you’re attempting to study for an upcoming Ancient Runes test. “At the very least, he’s hardly hiding that he quite clearly likes you.” You shoot her a withering glare and Lucas laughs from where he’s lounging on the settee.

“I have no idea why he’s following me around all the time,” You say loudly, and promptly blush when a few curious housemates turn to face you. Neither Lucas nor Lizzie look at all like they believe you and you sigh, staring glumly at the textbook in front of you. “I honestly think he might just be worried?” You try to inject as much honesty as you can into your voice, hoping that this new tact will convince them. “It was… It was really disturbing seeing her.” Your voice grows quiet and Lizzie’s expression morphs into one of concern and you think you can detect a little bit of guilt too. Should you feel bad for manipulating your friends like this? You probably should. But you don’t. “And he was the only one around, you know? I don’t think I reacted that well.” That at least is partly true, it’s just that your poor reaction had nothing to do with Annabel and everything to do with Riddle.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Lucas clears his throat and the subject is dropped.

***

Lizzie’s sick (or at least, she’s claiming to be) and so you’re on your own as you make your way to Divination. Riddle’s also absent and you’d not realised how used to his presence you’d become until he’s no longer walking with you to lessons. The solitary walk from breakfast to Divination gives you time to think about everything you know about the petrifications and a certain Tom Riddle. The most obvious, and the thing you are most concerned about, is that Riddle very clearly has something to do with the petrifications. Even without your visions, his attitude in the classroom whilst you’d waited for Dippet and Dumbledore to arrive would have been enough to make you suspicious, let alone the fact that he barely lets you out of his sight these days.

But regardless of any of that, you had Seen him. You’ve been Seeing him for weeks and it’s always the same: a boy splintering apart into seven pieces, distorting and mutating into something grotesque and unearthly. There’s no convincing you otherwise that Riddle and the boy in the smoke aren’t one and the same.

It’s your moral duty to tell someone, of course. You should be banging on Dippet’s door right this instance instead of making your way to Divination. You should be screaming it in the corridors. You should be doing a lot of things. And it’s not as though you’re happy that muggle-borns are being attacked. It’s just that… you’re stuck between doing what you know is right and following your own damned curiosity. And there is part of you that is unwilling to divulge to anyone what you know because that would entail telling them how you know. It’s selfish and dangerous and you hate yourself for it a little bit, but the thought of admitting what you’ve Seen is enough to make your chest constrict and your palms grow clammy.

When you enter the classroom you’re not even surprised to see that Riddle is already waiting for you at your usual table. He smiles at you congenially, and even stands up as you approach, pulling out your chair for you to sit. One thing that you’ve learnt from spending as much time with him as you have been is that Riddle’s manners are impeccable. It’s not half as endearing now that you know what hiding underneath his affable exterior. “Good morning,” He says pleasantly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you after breakfast this morning, I had a few things I needed to take care of.” He leans forward as he says this, smiles conspiratorially at you like he’s letting you in on a secret. You have a horrible feeling that he’s testing you.

“That’s okay,” You say slowly, watching him carefully as you begin to unpack your things. “I’m sure that you must be busy this year, with all that’s happening. It would be selfish of me to keep you to myself all the time.” His smile widens and he nods.

“That’s very understanding of you. I must say, juggling schoolwork, prefect duties, and extracurriculars has been a lot more of a balancing act than I anticipated,” He pauses and the look he sends your way is entirely too knowing for your liking. “Still, I’m sure I don’t need to explain that to you.” You frown and anxiety begins to set in. The way Tom is talking to you makes you think that he knows about your visions, but that’s impossible. You’ve been so careful to make sure that no one knows. Not even Lizzie and Lucas. So how could he have found out? Unless he’s just baiting you? Trying to make you think he knows more than he does?

Not knowing what else to do, you simply smile and turn your attention to the front of the class where Professor Levintus begins the lesson with a small lecture on predeterminism and the role of destiny in Divination. Immediately, you perk up, scribbling notes on the lecture with a fervour that you’ve not felt since the petrifications started. You’ve always believed that the things you See are inevitable. That, once you’ve Seen them, your visions will come to pass no matter what you do. You’ve always believed this and so you’ve never once tried to stop them. Never once tried to change the future.

You think maybe you might want to see if you can.

“Sir,” You call, raising your hand. Levintus pauses in the middle of his sentence looking over at you, startled. “Forgive me for interrupting, but you mentioned that many consider the Sight to be absolute. Is that a fact or just a popular theory?” You try to keep your voice even; interested but academic. Out of the corner of your eye, Riddle sits up a little straighter, his attention focused entirely on you.

“Well, it’s certainly a popular theory. Many would argue that because all known instances of true foretelling have come to pass that it’s the only viable hypothesis we have at the moment.” Levintus explains. He looks like he’s about to move on with the lesson, but you still have questions.

“Surely, the keyword is ‘known’, though? There might be hundreds of foretellings that haven’t come to pass because the Seer acted to make sure they didn’t? Or prophecies that were never heard and therefore never acted out?” A hint of hysteria leaks into your voice and more students turn to look at you. Whilst it’s not exactly a secret that you take Divination more seriously than most, you’re not known for talking in class.

“That’s certainly a possibility, which is why I use the term theory. Is there a reason that you’re so interested?” Levintus smiles and cocks his head, “Do we have our very own Seer sitting among us, I wonder?” The rest of the class laughs, and, despite the way your heart does an uncomfortable flip in your chest, you force yourself to join in. The only person who isn’t laughing is Riddle who watches you with a small smile. You tell yourself that you don’t find it flattering.

***

You finish your rounds for the night and wave goodbye to the Hufflepuff prefect before heading straight to the Prefect’s bathroom. You’ve been given next weeks rota for patrols and aren’t surprised to see that you’ve been paired with Riddle. You haven’t been paired with him since the first week of fifth year, after which he’d only been partnered with other Slytherins but apparently times are changing.

You slip inside the bathroom and quickly set about filling the tub. You light incense and pour perfumed oils into the water. You smoke a cigarette and then light another one immediately after. These aren’t to help you See, but rather because you’ve been feeling on edge since Divination that morning. The next thing you do is pull out the small ornate dagger that you’d bought from Borgin and Burks the previous summer. You set it down carefully on the ledge of the bath as you sink into the warm water.

Driromancy is something you’ve studied but never attempted before. You’ve always found the idea faintly unsettling. Now though, you’re desperate for answers, and blood divination is said to be one of the most potent forms of divination. Blood magic is personal; it draws its power from the most essential parts of the user, and practitioners of driromancy are said to have highly intense and personal divinations. It is for exactly these reasons why you’re even considering it in the first place. Riddle has been haunting your dreams for months, he’s in the smoke you exhale, and that connects you to him somehow. In many ways, you know him better than he knows himself and you can’t shake the feeling that there has to be a reason for it. That there has to be a reason that of all the Seers in the world, it’s you that has been gifted the warning of his future.

You eye the dagger with a mix of anticipation and foreboding as the perfumed steam begins to work its magic and your mind calms and stills. You’re not sure how long you soak, allowing the water to soften your skin, but eventually, you feel the familiar tug at the edges of your mind, the gentle pull of the Other waiting for you to open your Inner Eye and See.

It doesn’t take much. A few drops on the tiles next to you, dark red against the white marble. You track the speed at which the droplets fall, the viscosity, and the patterns they land in. The slow, steady drip suggests someone determined, resourceful, and independently minded; the thin, watery viscosity indicates an uncertain future or a change of heart; the pattern that forms on the marble is a constellation - the hydra, representing a monster that cannot die.

You stare at the drops of blood for longer than you can tell, feeling strangely relieved by what they’ve told you. A future in flux is certainly better than a future set in stone. Especially, if the future is what you think it might be. It still leaves you with the question of how to change it. Riddle is, of course, the answer. Your futures are somehow tied together, however tangentially that might be, you just hope that his past actions aren’t indicative of how he might treat you should he find out.

The water has completely cooled, and you shiver as you clamber out of the bath and begin to dry yourself off. A quick vanishing charm and you’re ready to leave. You manage to take one step out of the corridor when you hear a soft hum coming from the shadows. Riddle steps into view and smiles down at you. In the dim candlelight of the corridor, he looks like a gothic prince. How did… How did he know you were here? Or was it just a coincidence?

Is anything a coincidence when it comes to you and Riddle?

He takes in your still-damp hair, your slightly wild eyes, the hitch in your breathing as he draws closer. “It’s a little late to be out, isn’t it? And hardly safe,” He says, and he’s close enough that you can see the way his eyelashes cast shadows along his cheeks. “I’d hate for something to happen to you when I’ve been trying so hard to prevent that.”

“Last I checked, prefects aren’t beholden to the same rules as other students,” You say and your voice is steady where your heart is not. He hums again and you’re struck by how pleasant the sound is, by the way his upper curls and his expression softens slightly. “I promise I’m being careful - though, I might ask the same of you, you know. Sneaking around the castle when you weren’t even on patrol tonight.” Without really meaning to, your tone takes on a slight teasing quality, gentle and sweet in the quiet hallway. You think you might be flirting with him which is… well, it’s an interesting development at any rate. Though perhaps, not one you should be surprised by; you’ve been spending enough time with Riddle to have grown somewhat comfortable in his presence (which is a somewhat unsettling realisation in and of itself) and you can’t deny he’s got a handsome face.

He laughs and the sound is beautiful. “I can assure you, no harm will come to me tonight.” No, you don’t expect it will. He offers you his arm, “It’s getting late though, and your common room is on the way to mine; allow me to escort you, seeing as I couldn’t this morning.” You know the exact moment that Riddle notices the shallow cut on your palm. He hums again, though this time, it isn’t from amusement but rather, you think with a small stab of anxiety, understanding. Like he’s putting the pieces together in his mind and is reaching a conclusion. Your hand hovers uncertainly in the air before you lay it gently against the crook of his elbow and he starts to walk you back.

Some distant part of you recognises that you’re in the middle of crossing a threshold, that you’re willingly walking into dangerous territory arm in arm with Riddle. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit curious about where you’ll end up.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle oneshot #harry potter #minific #tom riddle imagines #tumblr fic

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elmidol · 4 years ago

Text

Propane Nightmares [NSFW]

Pairing: Tyki x Reader x Earl

Warnings: Noncon; dubcon; loss of virginity; aphrodisiacs; canon-typical religious elements; fingering; double-penetration; oral; potentially other elements?; some verbal humiliation; probably some blasphemy

Notes: Originally Written April 25, 2011. Titled after “Propane Nightmares” by Pendulum. word count is a little over 8k.

reposting for @maskedjoker because I saw that tag on my Earl and Tyki thirst post~

Propane Nightmares

Originally, you had been appointed the task of gathering more information on the Noah after rumor had circulated regarding formal meetings between them and the folks of high society. Such was your job as a finder. No one had bothered the divulge, however, that the Noah had been tipped off on the Order’s intentions; there had been no cancellations on your orders, and, subsequently, no means for your knowing that your drink would be laced with drugs. It had been a sleeping drug, which had caused you to wander off from the other guests prior to passing out. When you had awoken, you had found yourself chained to a chair, your feet snug against the legs of the chair, and hands bound behind your back. Tyki Mikk sat in front of you, straddling a second chair, whose back was facing you. You watched his lips twist upwards upon his noticing you had awoken.

Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in all of your surroundings. It was a study of some sort, from what you could tell; a few bookshelves, a desk on the far wall, and an assortment of chairs. Upon returning your gaze to the Noah, you released a small gasp and your eyes widened—a second man stood behind Tyki. This gentleman you had previously believed to be one of the Earl’s many brokers. His current presence, however, allowed you to realize that he had a more intimate connection with the Family Noah. I wonder what his powers are, you thought to yourself; the Order already possessed information regarding Tyki Mikk’s abilities. Due to this fact, you jumped half an inch in your seat when Tyki leaned forward.

“Don’t be scared, girl~” Tyki said calmly, his smile a mockery of innocence. You shuddered at how well he pulled off the nice-guy façade. “We just want to ask you some questions.”

You swallowed hard, stiffened, and then took a deep breath. “I…I’ll die before I tell you…anything.” Despite the stutter and hesitance, your tone held true to the courage you were feeling—you were willing to die before handing over any sort of information to these men; no, they were monsters.

Tyki reached past the back of the chair and placed his hand on your knee. His fingers gently rolled the muscles surrounding your kneecap, the actions reminiscent of a massage. “The Order has made sure you won’t talk even when pressured by torture, right?” You narrowed your eyes slightly, your teeth gritting together behind your frown. Tyki’s voice dropped in volume, growing husky. “That’s why I’m here~”

“So what, you’ll remove my organs one by one?” you ground out, jerking your knee away. Your joint hardly slipped out of the Noah’s hands before the chain prevented you from venturing further.

Tyki smirked, swung his leg over the side of the chair, and stood in a fluid, graceful movement that left you blinking. You shrank into your seat a little. He, on the other hand, closed to distance between the two of you and there knelt. His eyes locked with yours; you held his gaze with eyelids half-closed. Your heart beat faster in your chest as you fully expected him to reach within you—his hand slid closer, fingers travelling up your leg—and you were waiting for him to go for a kidney. Without removing your clothes, his flesh met yours—in a much different manner than what you had expected.

You released a loud gasp prior to biting down on your bottom lip and averting your gaze; his fingers danced along your inner-thigh, travelling upward until just their tips met with your lower lips. You shifted your hips away from his touch. Tyki, an amused grin spreading at your retreat, only thrust his hand forward, and slipped his middle finger into your depths. Your eyes widened, and your legs began to shake.

“St-stop.” Tyki only stuck his tongue out at you. You stared at the organ, a deep flush settling on your face as he waggled it suggestively. He started thrusting the single digit in and out. He cupped your entire pussy in his hand, rubbing your outer lips while continuously withdrawing and plunging his finger inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut and attempted to cross your legs. The chains prevented you from accomplishing this task; all you had managed to do was trap Tyki’s arm between your thighs. Your breathing grew labored, and you flinched when a second finger was added.

The Noah gripped your legs with his free hand and spread them once again. He pushed his torso closer to you, making sure you would be unable to shift too much for his liking.

The Millennium Earl, meanwhile, had shifted position in the room; he stood so where he was able to better see what Tyki was doing to you. At the same time, he made certain he was able to view your face. His lips twitched upward upon seeing you begin to rotate your hips in time with the Noah’s sinful fingers.

Just as your body was beginning to grow warm, just as you could feel the tingling waves of pleasure coursing through yourself, Tyki’s fingers retreated. Your eyes snapped open. You continued to pant, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Tyki’s tongue lapping against the digits that had previously been inside of you.

“How many days have you been here?” the Noah asked, cocking his head to the side. Through with speaking, he sucked his fingers into his mouth and released a husky moan that sent fire shooting through your loins.

You only shook your head in response.

Tyki sighed, seemingly disappointed, before straightening himself up. He stood in front of you at that point, his hands working at the front of his pants. You swallowed twice as saliva gathered in your mouth, your breathing growing heavier by the minute. This sensation was foreign to you; having been recruited by the Order at a young age, you had been discouraged from participating in any act remotely sexual. In fact, education on sexual manners had been so censored that your eyes grew wide as saucers the moment Tyki tugged his pants halfway down his hips. The sight of his penis enthralled, disgusted, and repelled you at once.

You could not tear your eyes away even as he reached forward with on hand, gripped the back of your chair, and with the second hand took hold of his cock.

“That was an easy one too,” Tyki said with a laugh, his breathing growing rigid as he began to pump himself. He watched you, and was overly amused by the fact that your eyes were glued to his growing erection. “Ah, that’s right. You were probably raised by the Order, huh? You’ve never seen a dick?” He shifted his fingers to allow you a better view.

You bit down harder on your bottom lip and forced yourself to look away; fascinated though you might have been, you were still convinced of the Order’s teachings that premarital sexual activities were wrong—sinful.

The second male moved into your line of sight. You stared at him, still unsure of his abilities as a Noah. His presence also made you highly uncomfortable knowing that he was watching every dirty deed Tyki had performed—and would likely perform—with you. Tyki’s hand stopped mid-stroke and he muttered out ‘Duke’ when the man stepped between you and the Noah of Pleasure. Your eyes widened considerably at the revelation—the Millennium Earl had a human form, and said form was currently standing before you. He removed the hat from his head, set it off to the side, and stood erect once again. Your eyes were locked with his as he repeated Tyki’s previous question: how many days had you been there?

“You…you can go suck a dick!” you said with a hiss.

The Earl and Tyki both laughed a single, baritone chuckle and locked gazes with one another. Tyki’s hand ran up his length while the Earl motioned towards the Noah of Pleasure’s erection. “That one?” They both watched your face; the expression of pure and utter shock, of morbid curiosity and disgust as it crossed your features. Your eyes flickered between the Earl’s motioning hand and Tyki’s shaft.

“Th-that’s….”

Before you could finish your sentence, the Earl interrupted you, supplying an ending, “A sin?”

“A handful of sins!”

He cocked his head to the side, suddenly interested. “Oh? Not just the homosexual aspect, I see. Has the church taught you that oral sex is a sin? Then…if I were to…” With each word he moved closer to you, knelt between your legs, and had you literally trembling as his hands reached into the hem of your pants. He tugged them down, your panties in tow, and blew lightly on your exposed pussy. The warm air had you gasping and closing your eyes tightly. “…do this…” He pushed his face into you, his tongue wiggling out of his mouth and lapping at you. Your mind swam with a multitude of emotions as the sensation of immense pleasure filled you. His tongue retreated long enough for him to finish, “…are we sinning together?”

Your bottom lip slipped out from between your teeth, a chunk of shaky breaths erupting from your mouth. The Earl, meanwhile, began nibbling your inner lips, his tongue flicking along and tracing the entrance of your vagina prior to slinking in. You looked away from the Earl, trying to force the sight of him eating you out from your mind—the feeling alone was enough to boggle your brain. This, however, only resulted in you catching a glimpse and thus becoming entranced by Tyki’s hands pleasuring himself. One hand rolled his balls around, the other running up and down his shaft, fingers caressing the head.

You spread your legs wider just slightly without realizing what you were doing, and the Earl grinned at the obvious invitation. He left you disappointed; though amused and pleased with the fact that your body was responding so nicely to his ministrations, he drew back. Tyki, likewise, stopped masturbating, and your gaze fell away from him to the Earl’s face. You stared at the head of the Noah clan, your face flushed with arousal, embarrassment and anger, and your breathing coming out in deep pants.

“How many days have you been here?” You shook your head. Your mind, though blurred with pleasure, served just as well to remind you that you were not to divulge anything to the enemy. To this, the Earl only shook his head. He leaned forward, gave your pussy a single lick, and withdrew his tongue once again. You gasped, your hips bucking to meet the organ. “Was it one?” You bit your bottom lip yet again.

Tyki’s eyes were focused on your face, searching for any hints. “No.” The Earl nodded, leaned forward, and thrust his tongue into you deeply. You threw your head back, moaning, the sound muffled by your closed mouth. A whimper then escaped you—the Earl had pulled away. “Not quite,” Tyki commented. Again did the tongue assault you, that time trailing from your lower belly into your folds. You shook your head, and the Earl repeated the action in reverse.

“Oh God, yes!” You hated yourself for saying it, despised the fact that the Noah were laughing at you.

“Four days,” they said in unison. The Earl looked up at your face from his position between your legs. “Is that right? Four days?” You could not meet his gaze. “Or was it more? I could keep going.” You felt yourself growing wetter with his words. His mouth returned to your pussy, and he began suckling. You could no longer hold back the moans; a single finger had joined the Earl’s tongue—Tyki’s finger. The Noah of Pleasure knelt beside the other male, both intent on driving you over the edge it seemed.

Simultaneously, they pulled out. “It was four, right?” Tyki asked you. Before your mind, so filled and blinded by pleasure, could function correctly, you found yourself nodding. Then you stiffened, realizing what you had done. You bowed your head in shame, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry~” Tyki and the Earl spread your legs apart as far as they could go while bound. You winced slightly at the pain this caused you, and stared at the two men through watery eyes. “We’ll make you feel better~”

Your jaw dropped, and you could not even fathom what to think when the two Noahs’ tongues met—they failed to kiss one another fully, instead opting to not only rub their organs along one another’s, but also inside of your wet pussy. You gasped, swallowed, and fought for breath at the sensation of the two tongues battling for dominance against one another while still buried in your folds. Tyki’s was the first to retreat, and he blew lightly against your entrance, which was still being fucked by the Earl’s tongue. The Earl then moved away, having felt your walls tighten around his organ in a sure sign you were close to orgasm.

“Doesn’t this feel nice? The three of us sinning together.” Tyki chuckled off to the side, running a hand through his hair to push back his bangs. The Earl made light, small circles on your ankle as he spoke.

Swallowing the saliva gathered in your mouth to keep yourself from drooling, you forced yourself to take a single, shaky breath. You were doing all that you could to calm yourself, to bring your body under your mind’s command. Regaining most of your normal composure, you were able to once more glare at the Millennium Earl and Tyki Mikk with pure defiance in your eyes. Seeing the challenge this posed for gaining future information from you, the Earl grinned widely. You barely managed to fight off the shudder that threatened to run down your entire frame. This was a battle of wills, and you refused to allow yourself to be defeated, especially by the likes of the two present Noah.

The Earl stood before you and then walked behind your back. You felt his fingers dancing along your wrists, tapping against the chains that bound you. You turned your head to see what he was doing, however your attention returned immediately to Tyki when he raised himself as well. His dick stood painfully erect before you, and you eyed the organ warily while listening to the Earl’s next question.

“Did you recognize anyone to be Noah here?”

Inhaling deeply, you allowed your eyelids to drift close and outright refused to answer the question. To this, the Earl only gripped the chain one your wrists, tugging lightly so where the metal bit into your flesh. Used to this sort of pain from your training, you made no noise of complaint. Your heartbeat was beginning to return to its normal rate as well, your body completely unperturbed by the metal slicing through several layers of skin. The Earl shifted to where his mouth was directly beside your ear. Again did your heartbeat increase its rhythm; the feeling of his breath on your ear reminded you of the sensation below, of how skilled his tongue had been. You clenched your hands into fists and fought for control over yourself, almost winning when he asked:

“They water-board you as part of your training, correct?” You stiffened slightly. It was true that you were no stranger to being water boarded, however that in no way indicated that you enjoyed it. You twisted your torso a fraction of an inch to look up at his face. The Earl peered down at you, his expression one of pure indifference. “Does drowning scare you?” You blinked once. “What about choking—did they shove anything into your mouth, hmm?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and the Earl smiled in self-congratulations.

He moved to where he stood in front of you and motioned to Tyki. The Noah of Pleasure took up the position the Earl had previously held, his hands then seizing the restraints. You tensed your legs upon feeling your hands pulled back, and you knew full well the moment he used his power to push your hands and the chains past the back of the chair.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” You were too absorbed in what Tyki was doing to make note of who asked the question. The Noah of Pleasure released your hands, once more returning to the Earl’s side. The two men shared a look prior to the Millennium Earl grabbing you by the shoulder and literally tossing you onto the ground. He caught the chair before it was able to follow suit and collapse onto you. You winced as your shoulder then face smacked into the floor. A small whimper escaped from you, however you fought back any other noises.

You groaned as the Earl rolled you onto your back then sat on the chair, staring down at you. He placed his feet on your legs, which were twisted slightly due to the position you were currently in. You shifted, attempting to alleviate some of the strain, and were stopped by both the restraints around your ankles, and the Earl pressed down on you. He asked again if you knew what was going on, and that time you shook your head.

The Earl nodded, his eyes drifted towards Tyki, who recognized the signal immediately. The Noah of Pleasure straddled your chest, the tip of his erection touching your lips. Catching onto what they were planning, you swung your head to face the far wall. Your eyes were widened in horror, your heart beating loudly and quickly in your chest. You were certain Tyki was able to feel your pulse.

“Don’t even think about biting,” Tyki said. He then looked skyward, rubbing his chin. “Not that you really could.” The Earl and Tyki laughed at your expense. At the same time, Tyki gripped you by the hair and forced you to face him. He shifted his hips forward, the head of his penis flush against your lips. You could smell his musk, could feel the precum dripping onto you. All you had to do was keep your mouth shut, you told yourself. That’s all you had to do. Tyki grinned down at you, his teeth and eyes reminding you of a monster—you trembled at the sight of the trademark Noah-grin. You remembered at that exact moment that it did not matter if you opened your mouth or not—his ability made you completely vulnerable even should you successfully keep your mouth shut.

But that was not what he wanted, and you realized this upon feeling the Earl’s foot stomp down hard on your ankle. You whimpered and gasped, feeling the bone break, and instantly regretted it as Tyki thrust his hips forward, his penis entering your mouth. He did not stop there; the Noah made certain that his dick hit the back of your throat, and you gagged around the organ. Tyki slowly withdrew then rolled his hips again. You felt tears forming in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, as the sensation and thoughts of dying from asphyxiation clouded your mind. Above you, Tyki moaned. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, and he forced your head to bob up and down his length while he fucked your mouth.

After thrusting into your throat several times, he withdrew from your mouth. Still seated on the seat behind Tyki and above you, the Earl repeated his previous question: Did you recognize anyone to be Noah here?

You, however, were busy coughing and gagging. Fighting to catch your breath, you sobbed. All the while, Tyki continued to run his hand through your hair, rocking his hips, ever ready to resume. It seemed to them that you took too long; you screamed around Tyki’s erection as it entered your mouth and once more hit against the back of your throat. The vibrations of your scream caused Tyki to groan loudly in pleasure. You attempted to jerk your head away from him, but were unable to due to the fact that Tyki still held captive your hair. He did, however, relent slightly; the Noah no longer pressed himself to where he hit your throat, but instead ran the head of his penis against your tongue. You tasted the precum, at the same time your nostrils were filled with the scent of his musk. For a second time, Tyki withdrew from your mouth without cumming. He stared down at you while, for a third time, the Earl asked the question.

“J…just…” More tears spilled down your cheeks; you did not want to betray the Order, but it did not count if the information was harmless, did it? No, you told yourself. It wasn’t betrayal if it didn’t hurt the Order. “…I only…I only recognized the ones…that the Order…” You swallowed hard, your throat sore. “Only the ones that the Order already knows of…”

The Earl nodded, but you barely saw the action past Tyki’s body. The patriarch of the Noah family shifted in his seat, his own pants becoming unbearably tight. In his next question, you heard his voice deepen, grow husky: “What Noah do the Order know about?”

Your legs were growing numb, and you attempted to move them to get the blood flowing once more. The Earl allowed this, and even aided you just a little by pushing against your shins. Your gaze flickered to Tyki, then darted to the Earl, and finally settled on the Noah of Pleasure’s face. He was staring down at you lovingly—it was all about lust, you well knew.

“I…I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping this would satisfy the two. Tyki only sighed, gripped your head, and ignored your protests as he entered your mouth against. This time, his moan was loud. It echoed in your head as his hips rolled forward, the head of his dick sliding against the roof of your mouth. It tickled somewhat, and you shuddered in response. He moved, alternating between running the upperside of his shaft against the roof of your mouth, and the underside along your tongue. Your throat constricted the moment he ventured to move in that deeply. You hardly heard his hiss of ‘Oh, fuck yes’, your vision growing blurred from the lack of oxygen. You attempted several times to breathe through your nose, however were assaulted and overwhelmed by his scent.

His thrusting grew more frantic. You felt his hand hit against your chin, and your brow furrowed before you realized that he was cupping his sac while he continued to rape your mouth. You shut your eyes tightly, knowing what was coming—knowing that he was about to cum. You hoped and prayed that he would go ahead and thrust once more into the back of your throat so that you would not have to taste him. Those prayers remained unanswered; Tyki made certain his seed spilled on your tongue and filled your mouth. Upon pulling out, he slammed a hand over your lips, preventing you from spitting out the semen.

You swallowed several times, fought off the urge to gag, and sobbed pathetically when Tyki removed his hand. A handful of tears slipped down your cheeks; you were completely and utterly disgusted with yourself, were sure that you were going to Hell for what you had been forced to do—that’s what the Order had told you would happen. Tyki moved off your chest, and both Noah watched you cry. The younger Noah ran a thumb up and down your cheek in a semi-comforting manner. You could only shake your head in response.

“But…but I really…I really don’t know that,” you said, sobbing loudly and voice breaking several times during that short sentence. “I just…only ….the list…”

The Earl hummed in response; it was a bit late for him to be agreeing with you, to be accepting that answer, you thought. Tyki had already had his way with you.

Standing, the Noah patriarch took out a piece of paper from his pocket. You recognized it immediately as the list you had mentioned. If he already knew about the list….then why would they do that…? You sobbed yet again. He then knelt between your legs, reaching backwards and snapping the chains off with a brief summoning of dark power. You yanked your limbs away from him, curling in on yourself in an attempt to hide your lower half from his wandering eyes. Tyki watched with vague interest as the Earl seized your hips and pulled you into his lap. You cried into his chest, his hands crossed behind your back and unlocking the shackles on your wrists.

Your arms, sore and tender from the position they had been trapped in for so long, flopped lamely to your sides for a minute. Blood pulsed through your limbs in an aching speed that had you tensing and hissing in discomfort. At the same time, you were not oblivious to the Earl’s own growing discomfort, to the erection pressing against you from under his clothing. His hands were lecherous, venturing to touch and rub first your arms, then your hips, and finally your chest. He squeezed your breasts, causing you to gasp and attempt to retreat. Pulling away, you landed on your back against, only to have the Earl roll on top of you. One hand remained on your chest, pinching a nipple through your shirt and bra, and the other rested beside your face in order to prop himself up.

You grit your teeth together, shutting your eyes and gasping as he rolled the nipple between finger and thumb. His hips pressed into yours, his erection pressing tightly against your wet pussy. You whimpered beneath him, and felt tears running down your cheeks yet again. He began licking up the salty-water that fell from your eyes, his lips pressing gently against your eyelids after following the trail.

“Were you able to gather any new information on the Noah?” he asked, the hand abandoning your breast to trail between your two bodies—down, down, running over your abdomen, next your pelvic bone, and finally a knuckle slipping between your folds as he gripped the zipper of his pants. You heard him tug the metal down, and felt his hand move against you as he undid the button as well.

You opened your eyes and stared at him, horrorstruck as he pulled himself out of his pants. His hips shifted lightly, however he made no mood to penetrate you. “I….I…” He ran his tongue over his lips, and you stared, hypnotized by the pink organ. He slipped his hand back up your body, first cupping your thigh and slowly massaging up. You were growing wetter the higher he went, panting as his thumb hooked for just a moment into your pussy, massaging your clit prior to venturing higher. Subconsciously, you spread your legs further for the Earl and he rewarded you by pressing forward. Your body tensed upon feeling the head of the Earl’s erection brush against your lower lips. “Please…d-don’t.”

“Just answer the question,” he told you, although he obliged in the slightest by shifting to where his penis was not so snug against you.

“Y-y-yes.” You looked away from his face, staring instead at one of the bookcases in the room. This was getting to the point of betrayal, you told yourself. Anything further and you would be damned if you answered their questions. At the same time, you told yourself that you were damned if the Earl or Tyki had their way with you; premarital sex was immoral! You sniffled, chest heaving with yet another sob. “Just pl-please don’t.” You pulled your hips away from his, your hands moving to cover yourself. The Earl watched this with fascination, and Tyki also observed your actions with growing interest.

“You’ve already told the Order the information?” the Millennium Earl asked, placing both hands on either side of your head and moving to where he was on all fours over you. You sobbed in response to his interrogation. That was enough of an answer for him. “What information did you give to them?”

“I…I can’t…I can’t…” You felt as though you were suffocating; the feeling of weight on your chest, of air not able to get into your lungs was worse than when Tyki had fucked your mouth. Your throat was still sore from the abuse, and every ragged breath you took only made things worse. You gulped in a mouthful of air, fear clenching your heart as the Earl started to undo the buttons on his shirt. You shook your head, hands flying up to grab his, to stop his actions. He paused for only a moment as your fingers curled around his hand, and stared down at you. His erection throbbed painfully at the sight of you sputtering out nonsensical words, of you begging him to please wait. Then he resumed undressing himself, that time with more fervor, his eyes half-lidded with lust.

You pulled yourself out from underneath his body successfully just as he was shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. However, you had completely forgotten about Tyki’s presence, and were startled when the second Noah’s arms wrapped around your waist to stop your escape. While the Earl finished pulling off his pants, and while you tried to tear yourself from Tyki’s grasp, the Noah of pleasure peeled your shirt from your body with his ability. You covered your chest, which was then covered only by your bra, and thus left yourself open to Tyki’s hands removing your pants and panties completely from your body.

Crossing your legs, you turned your body halfway away from the two men, trying to hide yourself. The Earl sighed in contentment at the sight, and Tyki made quick work of removing his own clothes. He used only one hand, the second squeezing between your thighs, two fingers rubbing against and then into your vagina. You gasped, yours hips initially jerked away from the contact before Tyki began curling and uncurling the digits. At that point, you could not stop your body from responding to the touch. It did not help either when the Noah of pleasure tugged you closer, your back against his torso, or when the Earl moved to where he had better access to you. His hands gripped you, forced your legs apart, and he thrust two more fingers into your depth. You released a small scream at the pain that flooded through your mind, unused to such stretching and pressure in the lower regions of your body.

“Stop! That hurts!”

“Oh~?” Tyki peered down at your pussy from over your shoulder, watching as his and the Earl’s fingers thrust in and out of you. A few drops of red and pink came out as he jerked his fingers away for a moment. “You really are a virgin.” The fingers returned, and you jumped at the intrusion, bouncing against Tyki, accidentally causing the fingers to thrust into you harder. The Noah of Pleasure kissed the top of your head, his lips and kisses trailing down the side of your face, until he arrived at your neck. He nibbled at your flesh, tongue flicking out and teasing.

You were starting to moan as the fingers wiggled and danced within you, as Tyki’s tongue lapped at your neck, as the Earl’s free hand squeezed and tormented your breasts. You threw your head back, sobbing and moaning at the same time. It was getting hard to breathe, it was getting—so fucking hot. You felt sweat running down your body as you moved your hips in time with the fingers. Tyki’s hand joined the Earl’s and started to play with your other breast. The Earl, likewise, moved forward and started to lick the other side of your neck. You felt several times their tongues meet as they licked every inch of your neck. Tyki’s erection pressed into your back and you gasped, your tongue lolling in your mouth.

The Earl withdrew his fingers first, running them along your body and trailing upwards until he was able to lick both your neck and your juices at the same time. He then shifted and ran his tongue down your body, over the line he had previously smeared on you. Your tears seemed to have dried up, and you could only manage a shaky breath and a weak sob as the Earl’s mouth engulfed you. He sucked at your wet pussy, his tongue running along Tyki’s fingers and your inner walls.

Tyki withdrew his fingers, caressing the Earl’s face for a moment before moving both hands to your hips. You watched the action, confused. “Duke, we’re still going to ask her, right?” Tyki asked, pressing closer to you. The Millennium Earl kissed back up your body until his face was above your head and he looked Tyki directly in the eyes. You looked up to watch the pair, your mind and body still coming down from the high that the two Noah had given to you. You leaned your head against Tyki’s shoulder, and continued to pant. The pair of men gazed down at you, watching you watch them.

“That’s correct.” Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip as he moved to where his forehead rested against yours. “What information were you able to give the Order?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as you released your lip in order to say, “I’m not…not allowed…I won’t…”

The Earl seized your hips, his hands directly above Tyki’s. Both Noah forced your hips forward, and you scrambled against the feeling of the Earl’s erection against your entrance. He slammed his hips up, burying himself in you immediately. A scream ripped from your throat at the sudden intrusion. You jerked your body, attempting to remove yourself. The Earl, meanwhile, groaned loudly and whispered a multitude of words regarding how tight you felt.

“Oh, God!” you whimpered. “You…I’m…”

“Were you saving it for your husband~?” Tyki cooed, nuzzling you while dropping his hands from your hips to your ass. You stiffened as he began to knead your flesh, and you stared at the Earl, who had yet to move since he first entered you. “We’re very good at destroying innocence~” The two Noah laughed, and you shuddered.

“Are you going to answer the question?” the Earl asked, lifting his hips further into yours. You wiggled against him, unable to remove yourself from him as his hands held you in place. Tyki continued to massage your butt, his fingers running over your cheeks and seeking a different entrance. You tensed upon realizing what he was doing, your head whipping around to look at him. He smirked at you in response. “You have five seconds….four…” With wide eyes, you looked at the Earl. Tyki’s fingers wiggled into you, causing you to buck your hips. This resulted in your gasping and the Earl moaning lowly in his throat. “…three…”

“Wait, wait…”

“…two…” Tyki positioned himself, the tip of his erection pressing tightly against your anus. You opened your mouth then closed it. “…one…” Eyes impossibly wide and mouth hanging open as you prepared to beg once more for him to wait, you felt the wind get knocked out of you as Tyki thrust forward. A handful of screams tore from you, and once more you found yourself sobbing as your mind was filled with a searing pain.

“I hell need going stop trouble,” you said. The two men looked at your face, both blinking as you sputtered nonsense. The Earl was the first to laugh, and Tyki followed this by a chuckle. Both shifted their hips, attempting to establish a rhythm. You grit your teeth and hissed in pain.

Tyki looked at the Earl past your shoulder and suggested, “Maybe you should lay down?” The Millennium Earl obliged, shifting to where he was on his back and you were on top of him. Tyki moved forward at the same time, making sure he did not slip from your tightness. The new position did help to alleviate some of the pain you were experiencing.

You placed your hands on the Earl’s chest when you felt as though you were about to collapse from the slight discomfort that remained. The Earl and Tyki rotated their hips another time, and you shifted as a hint of pleasure washed over your body. Not again, I can’t be enjoying this—not again, you screamed at yourself in your mind. All the same, you could not prevent the ‘mmm’ from escaping you. You ran your tongue over your lips, the room suddenly feeling hot beyond all reason. You felt the heat start to center around your belly before it shifted lower.

The first time you rocked your hips in time with Tyki and the Earl’s thrusting, your mind hardly registered it. The second time, you cursed yourself. On the third occasion, however, you were growing so hot that you hardly cared. The phrase ‘I’m going to hell’ repeated itself in your mind over and over, and still you continued to ride the two Noah. You ran your hands up and down the Earl’s bare chest, trailing your fingers by the tips only down the Earl’s abs. They shuddered under your touch, and the Earl gave an appreciative moan, jerking his hips into you. You rolled your hips against his in return, making sure to wiggle against Tyki, who started suckling at your neck in response.

Suddenly the two paused, and it was you alone who was riding the pair. They both fought the urge to resume, seeing how eager you were growing. Tyki and the Earl steadied your hips with firm grips. You stared down at the Earl questioningly, mind in a boggle from the pleasure you were receiving. Your teeth started to saw through your bottom lip—it was so hot in the room! There was so much pressure in the lower half of your body, pressure that demanded you move against the dicks that were buried within you.

“What information did you tell the Order?” the Earl asked. You groaned in response, your hands shoving against the limbs that were holding you in place. Below you, the Earl rotated his hips a second before Tyki also swiveled himself. You moaned as a result, eyelids fluttering closed. “Did it involve our abilities?” This time, Tyki thrust forward, forcing the Earl deeper into you.

“Oh…mmm…” You were breathing unevenly, your hands running along your own body. One hand cupped a single breast. You pinched and rolled a single nipple, kneading the breast as your other hand wormed its way to way you were able to thrust a single finger into yourself. You moved it up and down the Earl’s shaft before focusing on pleasuring yourself.

Tyki pulled out of you right before the Earl flipped you onto your back, his hips withdrawing until his dick left you with a slick sound. Then he slammed himself forward, reentering you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, bucking your hips into his. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he started to fuck you from his kneeling position. You removed your finger from yourself and grasped at the Earl’s balls, rolling them and touching them. All too soon, the Earl reached behind himself, unhooked your legs, and pulled out; you cursed as he regained control of the situation.

“That’s a pretty strong aphrodisiac you put in her drink,” you heard Tyki say as your focus swam. “How much did you give her anyway?”

You were unable to hear the Earl’s response. You had once more buried your finger into yourself, adding a second as you started to scissor yourself. The two Noah watched you for a minute as you brought yourself to the pique of pleasure—and then the Earl seized your hands , securing them behind your back. He forced you backwards into his lap. You wiggled against him, trying to position yourself over his erection before noticing that Tyki had moved in front of you.

“I shouldn’t have given her that much,” the Earl muttered as you spread your legs for Tyki. The two Noah smirked; you threw your head back as Tyki entered you. Your hips were immediately moving against his, your legs wrapped around the man in order to force him closer, deeper. You were panting heavily by then. Tyki chuckled, moving in and out of you with skill. “Hmm.”

The Earl pushed you into Tyki’s arms, releasing your hands. You grasped the Noah of Pleasure’s shoulders, still riding him even as the Earl thrust into your anus. You groaned out an ‘oh yes’ and shifted to where you could enjoy them both in full.

Tyki’s hands were on your thighs, and the Earl’s on your chest. You had your legs wrapped around Tyki’s torso and arms draped behind you around the Earl’s neck. You pulled him closer, pressing your lips against his in such haste that your teeth collided. The Earl growled in response, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Simultaneously, Tyki started to nibble once again at your neck. Your lips left the Earl’s and you seized Tyki’s, your tongue running along his. Not allowing you much of a chance to get away, the Earl leaned further into you, his mouth joining. The three of your tongues fought for dominance, slipping on occasion into someone’s mouth, although you were never quite sure whose.

For a second time, both men pulled away and out of you. You whimpered; they had grabbed your limbs and stretched you out to keep you from pleasuring yourself.

“Did it have anything to do with…” The Earl paused, breathing heavily. “Did the information regard the Noah’s abilities?”

“Oh fuck…” You could feel that you were so close to cumming. Your body was screaming for the two men to enter you, while your mind battled with the effects of the aphrodisiac and the knowledge that you should not reveal anything to the two men. You swallowed hard, eyes wandering over Tyki and the Earl’s naked bodies. The sight of their erections alone was about enough to make you cum. “It was…how…the looks…”

The Millennium Earl whipped you onto his lap, where you immediately wrapped your legs securely in place; while he thrust inside, you pushed yourself onto him. The Earl reached past you, gripping Tyki’s hips and forcing the Noah of Pleasure against you. Tyki obliged without complaint, moving to where he was able to reenter you. He gripped your hair and harshly yanked your head back, literally shoving his tongue towards the back of your throat. You whimpered then moaned in response, moving your hips in time with theirs.

Your hands were running up and down the Earl’s chest, until you found his abs again. Releasing your hair, Tyki reached in front of you, his hands gripping harshly at your chest. You shuddered in slight pain and noticed that his rhythm was increasing, that he was getting close. You continued to kiss him, your hands seizing the Earl’s wrists and bringing them to your chest as well. The Earl groaned lowly, leaving one hand on your right breast while the other grabbed you by the back of your neck. He jerked you forward and claimed your mouth. You felt yourself tighten around him as he thrust his tongue in and out of your mouth, mimicking what was going on below. You came for a second time, and this caused the Earl to cum only a few seconds following. Tyki continued to thrust into you even after the Earl pulled out.

He then paused, realizing what had happened, and forced you onto all fours while pulling out. He positioned himself at the entrance of your vagina and then thrust forward. He had one hand on your back, keeping you in place while he fucked you as though you were an animal. Not that you minded in the least at that point—you were rocking your hips back into his.

You reached forward with a single hand, gripping the Earl’s shaft as it softened, and leaned until you were able to lap up the semen and juices that had stuck to him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you heard Tyki say. He pulled all the way out and then thrust forward, forcing your face further into the Earl’s lap. A moment later, Tyki came with a loud groan. He continued to thrust into you until his shaft had fully softened.

At that point, you were so hot once more that you rolled onto your back and, not caring who was watching, started to fuck yourself with your fingers. Tyki licked his lips, an action that the Earl mimicked. Both of them spread your legs and buried their tongues within your depths. “Oh, fuck yes,” you hissed jerked your hips into their faces. Tyki licked a trail from your pussy up to your neck then back down again, while the Earl forced your finger away and started to roll your clit between his teeth. When you felt Tyki slip his tongue into you again, you moaned. You felt your walls tighten around their tongues, almost sobbed in pure ecstasy as they continued lapping at you even as you came. You were left gasping for air when they moved away from you. Tyki wiped his chin with an arm, all the while licking his lips.

“Still can’t believe the Order was dumb enough to send a girl~” You blinked at him, your mind not fully registering what the Noah was saying.

The Earl took a deep breath, stared down at you, and made a noise of agreement; in the back of his mind, he wondered if the Order had expected this, but then dismissed the thought immediately upon reflecting on all the information he was able to gain from you. He then pushed himself into a standing position and crossed the room, where he retrieved a cup of water. The Millennium Earl sat beside you, helped you into his lap, and pressed the rim of the cup against your mouth. You greedily started to drink the water, whimpering as he would pull the glass away then replace it. He seemed to be purposely spilling some of the water on your chest.

Again he took the cup away from you. That time he did not give it back, instead taking a sip himself. You reached for it, but were unable to retrieve it as Tyki took the water and sucked down what little remained.

“Do we kill her?” the Noah of Pleasure asked, rubbing a hand down your back. He stroked you as though you were a house pet. You stiffened at his question, looking between him and the Earl. “She might tell the Order what you look like.”

The Earl brushed back some of your hair. “I’m not worried about that.” He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, caressing the area of flesh with his tongue. He released you, looking at Tyki. The Earl then shifted his gaze to you. “I wonder—what is the Order going to do to once they find out everything?” You shuddered at the thought; even if they did not put you to death for your acts of heresy, you were certain you would not be welcome amongst your comrades. “I suppose we’ll just have to return her.” You did not like the way he grinned as he said that. Your mind screamed as he once more moved atop you, as your body, under the influences of the aphrodisiac, responded to his sinful, lecherous hands.

*****

You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at your superiors. The way quite a few of them were eyeballing you left a wave of chills running through you; quite a few of them were leering at you in the same manner both the Earl and Tyki had. This fact alone made you wish that you had been able to leave out the information regarding your debauchery, however the Order had made it clear that they would tolerate no editing or omitting to your tale. There was a mutual agreement amongst your superiors that your body would need to be cleansed; at that, you shuddered. All the while, they admitted that they were thoroughly pleased with the information you had provided—especially that regarding the Millennium Earl’s human appearance. Really, he shouldn’t have allowed you to live.

#tyki mikk x reader #millennium earl x reader #d.gray-man fanfic #dgm fanfic #tyki smut #millennium earl smut #propane nightmares

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kitkatopinions · 4 years ago

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The sad thing is that Blake's most healthiest option romance wise is someone who gives her space and willing to let her go. Sun fits this description perfectly. But they went with a codependent toxic relationship partially held together by guilt in which one side is clearly submissive and the other too worried and insecure.

Yeah, tbh, the send off to Sun at the start of volume six made me think they would pick up the relationship where it left off eventually for a couple different reasons, but one of them was this reason.

I want to preface this post by saying that A. I don’t really like Bumblebee and I don’t need a reason to dislike it even though I have reason to dislike it, B. I’ve shipped BlackSun from Sun’s first introduction, and C. also I’m coming at this as someone who has been in a co-dependent relationship, so all three of those things means I’m naturally a little biased. I’m not pretending this is all a super objective, impersonal interpretation. This is just me talking honestly about my thoughts towards a ship I don’t like. Bees, I’m sorry if this shows up in your tags, Tumblr is being screwy and I’m not trying to rain on anyone else’s posts. I’m using filterables and putting this under a keep reading to try and make it easier for Bumblebee fans to not see this.

I had - when I saw season six’s opening ep - given the show mad props for writing a romance driven relationship where the partners didn’t have to stay together all the time to still care about each other and be secure. It felt like the perfect move to me to get some distance between their characters while firmly establishing that Sun had never done the things he’d done ‘to win the girl,’ and didn’t consider himself ‘letting Blake go.’ Sun not only being willing to spend this time away from Blake, but to not even need it really said, and to have his own stuff he needed to do as well... All of that felt like a healthy, independent relationship. I don’t mean to get personal on main, but I’ve been in a relationship where I felt partially responsible for my partner’s happiness and he tried to do things like keep me from my friends or guilt me into things. I ignored the red flags because our relationship was important to me, but it made me feel pretty unhappy because I was always worried that if I didn’t do the things he wanted, he would get upset and over-react, and put himself down until I built him back up, and if we didn’t spend the majority of our time together, he would start talking about feeling like I didn’t really care that much about him and how lonely he felt. This was really exhausting to me, especially since I’m an introvert.

Sun always seemed like such a good partner for Blake because he was always so self-possessed, so confident in who he was already, independent and happy and accepting of Blake’s independence. Sun was always there for Blake, but he also was the one usually pushing her towards interacting with others too, they were able to go do separate things and even go on completely different missions with confidence and without drama. For a character who had previously been in a destructive, possessive, controlling, abusive relationship, it had seemed like a scene that clearly established Blake and Sun’s relationship as one where Sun wasn’t expecting Blake to stay with him all the time, respected her goals and her independence, and had his own life and his own friends too. I had kind of just assumed that the choice to have Sun leave the group and go to Vacuo was to further their relationship. Upon rewatching the scene later now that I know that the writers were already starting to try to implement Bumbleby, I can see how the show writers might’ve been intending that scene to be an amiable goodbye where Sun confirms to Neptune that they aren’t actually an item with his ‘it was never about that.’ But I just have to shake my head, because I was giving the writers credit for something they didn’t do.

Instead, they were trying to tie off the relationship between Sun and Blake by having him leave, not cementing Blake’s independence and Sun’s encouragement of that (and they tied it off badly imo because Blake freakin’ kissed the boy lol.) And once they had Sun leave, they started setting Blake up with Yang. I want to clarify that there’s nothing wrong with the writers deciding to go with Blake x Yang, and the ship itself was not a totally baseless one. I’m personally disappointed that one of my favorite RWBY ships isn’t going to be endgame, and I personally don’t like the idea of Blake and Yang as a couple. But my problem isn’t really with the ship itself, it’s with how the show writers have chosen to write the ship in execution.

Getting past the queerbaitery nature of Bumblebee as a ship, the choices surrounding Blake and Yang seem faulty on both sides (which I also think is important to remember. I’ve seen loads of people recognizing that Bumblebee as written in the show is destructive to Blake, but I’ve seen much fewer people talk about how it’s not the best for Yang too.)

Let’s start from the fact that Blake is an abuse victim. She was previously in a relationship with Adam and talks about his destructive and violent behavior. Blake has a really hard time trusting people because of how Adam had acted. He was explosive, manipulative, and he got angry at and hurt Blake specifically for leaving him. The last thing Blake would need is a relationship where she feels personally responsible for the stability of another person. The last thing she needs is to be pressured into staying with someone. The last thing she needs is to be expected to be with that person without the option of ever working with others. The last thing she needs is to be in a relationship where she can’t be apart from someone even temporarily without that person getting anxious and insecure or without having to feel guilty and like she did something wrong.

And yet the show has her in a relationship with someone that has abandonment issues. The show has her promise to stay with Yang in a moment of huge trauma, Blake crying out a desperate denial to the accusations of the abusive ex who had made her life hell, after he tried to again separate her from anyone she loved and she was forced to kill someone she had once deeply cared about. It was also a really weird choice of the writers to have the characters respond to a question over if they’d ever thought about working with other partners with dismissive and cold behavior as if the very idea was somehow wrong (especially since Yang spent quite a bit of time pre-volume six working with Weiss and Blake spent so much of her time working with Sun.) And the writers chose to frame Blake and Yang leaving on temporary separate missions in volume eight to result in insecurity and anxiety from Yang and guilt for Blake. On top of that, Yang is a person with a strong temper and aggressive tendencies. Although she seemed to be trying to work through those problems in seasons four and five, Yang backslid and seems just as controlled by her anger and her insecurities as her volume 2 self now, who had lashed out at Blake and angrily pushed her for not listening in ‘burning the candle.’

As for Yang, she lost her mom when she was very young (Ruby was a toddler,) and her dad temporarily shut down after that. She soon found out her biological mom had left her when she was a baby and spent her whole life wondering why while her uncle spent that time flitting in and out of her life and taking on dangerous missions - the same types of missions that had killed the woman who had raised Yang for the first part of her life. Yang has deep seeded fears of being abandoned and losing her loved ones, and she also has a history of trying to take care of and support the people around her even at her own personal expense. While Yang’s more selfless moments in season five - like giving up her dream of getting answers from Raven to follow and protect Ruby even when she clearly wasn’t wholly healed from her trauma - are admirable, what Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone who she feels like she has to protect and save and sacrifice for. What Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone she feels like she can’t rely on to be there for her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who can’t give her stability or struggles to trust her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who won’t call her out when she goes a little too far. And yet the writers chose to put Yang with someone who runs on the regular, the only member of their team who thought Yang might be lying about Mercury, someone who needs time and distance when Yang clearly needs someone who is consistent and present. And then the writers made it so that Yang and Blake spend very little time with anyone else. The writers made it so that they can’t be apart without guilt and anxieties.

And you guys, Blake in seasons 6-8 feels so needy. She’s consistently in need of saving, consistently doesn’t stand for herself, seems like she needs a lot of reassurance in her relationship, she’s consistently waiting for other people to make moves, etc. Even when Blake convinces Yang to divulge top secret information to Robyn, when Ironwood confronts them about it, Blake backs up and leaves Yang to explain their actions. In the early seasons, it feels like Yang cares more about their friendship than Blake does and that she’s putting in more effort, which don’t get me wrong, makes total sense since Blake had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and Yang’s clear anger problems (and her using a laser pointer to try and force Blake to talk to her,) might’ve made Blake hesitant to get close to or open up to Yang. But while it no longer feels like Yang cares more, it still feels like Yang puts in more work. Yang is constantly reassuring, protecting, comforting, and stepping up for Blake, while Blake is so passive and acts so dependent that I personally can’t help but feel like Yang must be exhausted. Yang needs stability and reassurance too, Yang needs a partner she can talk to and rely on to be there. When the writers did write Blake as trying to comfort and take care of Yang, it was way too much and had undertones of ableism. And I know, I know they had this ‘we’re taking care of each other’ moment when they were fighting Adam, but that’s just what we were told for one scene, and not what we’ve actually seen in their relationship.

The worst thing is that it didn’t need to be that way. Bumbleby could’ve been a really good ship that built on their foundation. Blake used to be an independent, brave, strong, active character. Blake stood up for herself to Weiss, told Ozpin to his face that he needed to do more for the Faunus, used to have a great, creative fighting style, used to be this sassy girl who’d banter with Sun and with Yang and when she did start opening up to Yang, it was a great way to start evolving their characters to be a strong relationship. In V3 when Blake admitted that she had doubts about Yang due to her past experiences with Adam, but opened herself up and decided to trust Yang anyway when Yang looked her in the eyes and told her sincerely exactly what had happened... That was so great and it really showed off the dynamic the two of them were starting to adapt. CRWBY might’ve immediately separated the two, but A. Seasons four and most of season five had great set up for them to work through their problems and then continue to grow that great dynamic we started seeing in the first three seasons. And B. their respective arcs continued their growth as characters even apart from each other. While I wish that RWBY had let the two work some of this out together, the growth that we were getting did make them more suited for each other. I’ll always ship BlackSun. But Yang getting a hold on her emotions, maturing, starting to work through her abandonment issues, and displaying just what a caring, honest person she was, at the same time that Blake was working through her past and her fears, learning to let people in, strengthening her resolve, and coming into her own as a leader... Come on, those two characters could’ve easily developed a good, healthy, strong, independent relationship and I’m legitimately sad that’s not what we got, especially since we sacrificed so much of Blake’s personality to get a worse ship.

I don’t even know what to say about it, tbh. Idk what else the writers expected us to think with how they wrote things. I’ve heard before that there was probably a cut scene in volume eight that included Yang and Blake fighting (which would then justify Yang and Blake’s reactions when they reunited,) and I do believe that, but the writers chose not to include it, and that made them look worse as a couple. Just like they chose not to include a scene where Blake and Yang work through the problem of Blake having left Yang without a word of explanation at the end of Volume 3. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake explains herself and Yang realizes that maybe she was being a little shortsighted about the trauma Blake had also gone through. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake actually learned that she didn’t have to protect or take care of Yang in volume six. And they haven’t included a scene where Blake puts just as much effort into their relationship as Yang does. And they didn’t include a scene where the two make it clear that they’re fine being apart. If anything, CRWBY has established the opposite, and it isn’t enough to just say that they’re taking care of each other, when they don’t show that to be the case.

Sun being not only willing to let Blake be with others, go her own way, and be her own person, but encouraging of that, made him a very compelling romantic prospect for her. Unfortunately I just don’t see that with Blake and Yang. Their relationship feels co-dependent, and maybe it’s just my personal experience talking and making me chafe, but I personally just don’t like it.

However, fans have been queerbaited long enough. So personal opinions aside, CRWBY give Bumblebee some confirmation you fucking cowards.

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professorsnape394 · 4 years ago

Text

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Eighteen: Faith

A/N: This is the Eighteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-18 can also be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below or send me a message if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 4199

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The rapping of knuckles against the old oak door echoed throughout the potions master's office. Breaking through the thick silence that had engulfed the room, a wave of anxiety washed over Severus Snape.

"Can I not go one day without you bothering me, Miss Dumbledore." Snape complained, trying to hide slight crack of nervousness in his voice.

"Sadly, Severus, it is not your beloved Miss Dumbledore." A thick Bulgarian accent announced.

Admittedly disappointed by the unveiling of his visitor, Severus lowered himself back down into his chair, not willing to make an effort for anyone but his apprentice.

"Why are you here, Igor. You should have learned your lesson by now to leave me alone." He said, rubbing his eyes back into focus and running a hand through his hair lazily.

"I have something you'll want to hear." Karkaroff divulged mysteriously, plopping himself down on the chair across from the professor.

"I do not imagine anything you have to say is of any interest to me."

"Then lucky for you Snape, I won't be the one talking."

Unbothered by the man's deliberate awkwardness, Severus allowed him to ramble on, too exhausted to argue with him.

With a flick of his wand and a small puff off smoke, the space between the two men began to whirl and spin, slowly forming a picture-like image in the air, the scene beginning to unfold. Revealing a staff room full of unusually dressed professors, the focus turned to a small cluster of teachers gathered in the centre of the room. Recognising both Igor Karkaroff and Aria Dumbledore sitting side by side on the old couch, Snape grew suspicious of the man's intentions.

"Why are you showing me this?" Severus asked, unsure of whether he wanted to see what was about to happen.

"Just listen." The Durmstrang headmaster hissed.

"How do I feel about Snape?" Aria wondered, the scene enclosing in on her.

"He's... curious. He has the capacity for love and friendship just like the rest of us, yet he chooses to be mean-spirited."

"I don't want to hear this." Snape declared, turning his eyes away from the woman.

"You must." Igor demanded.

"...he can be mean and arrogant and cruel. And despite it all I try my best to show him kindness, but where does that get me? He calls me out in front of practically the whole school? That was so fucking humiliating, and I'm just supposed to forgive him? I think it's safe to say I'd live a happy life if I were to never see that man again."

Severus felt his heart drop in his chest, unable to process what he had just heard. Slowly a sharp ringing in his ears grew louder and louder, deafening him to the scene before him, as well as the reality in which he existed. He refused to believe the woman he cared so much about, the woman who had demanded to be his friend, had lied about everything. Did she truly hate him beneath her annoyingly cheerful demeanour, was it all a façade?

He wanted to insist Karkaroff had fabricated the whole thing, but he knew exactly what spell he had cast, there was no way he could have faked it.

A deep rage grew within the man, an anger he had not felt in a number of decades. Severus Snape prided himself on having a monotone disposition, void of all emotion. But that familiar feeling of being betrayed by someone he trusted brought forward a plethora of pent up emotions, namely anger and frustration.

A wide, devilish grin spread across Karkaroff's face, satisfied by his colleague's reaction.

"You see now what she is truly like, Severus. You see now that she was playing you all along. That girl pretends to be your friend to keep her job, not because she likes you." Igor laughed maliciously. "You and I both know what is coming, and when it does, Dumbledore is prepared to replace you. Even he knows where your true loyalties lie. Do not be fooled into thinking the Dumbledore's are your friends. They use you for their own advantage, but the second you are no longer useful, or you become a threat to them, you'll be taken down by any means necessary."

"You're lying." Snape tried to convince himself, refusing to meet the professors gaze. "You're scared of what he will do to you if he returns. You need an alliance with someone on the inside."

"He has returned, you must feel it just as I do." The ex-deatheater practically screamed.

"I will not be manipulated by you Igor. This changes nothing, the girl was nothing but a distraction."

"We both know that isn't true." He sniggered, attempting once last time to convince Snape. "Do you know what she said to me, the last time I was in this office? She told me she could never be with a man like you, she told me your actions were unforgivable. I can prove that as well if you don't believe me."

"Get out, Igor. Just leave." Severus exhaled, starting to pace slowly behind his desk. He knew Karkaroff was trying to manipulate him, he was not stupid enough to fall for that. But proof does not lie, and the facts remain. Everything he was saying true, there was no denying it.

With a short bow, Igor danced out of the room. Completely satisfied with the havoc he'd reeked. He'd successfully toyed with what little emotions the great dungeon bat had left. And who's to say what can happen when Severus Snape's feelings get hurt?

Hoot. Hoot.

The bird bleated as it swooped through the open window.

"Another letter for the pile?" Aria sighed to herself. "Will he ever stop?"

Whoo.

It purred in response.

The witch couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence.

"You know exactly who." She giggled, plucking the envelope from the creatures beak, and throwing it on the ever growing pile.

"I just wish he would give me some time to think, you know?" She asked turning back to the barn owl, only to witness it taking off, disappearing into the distance.

Look at me. I'm talking to a bird. She thought with a roll of her eyes. I need to get some sleep.

Catching a glimpse of herself reflection of the window, Aria decided she needed to freshen herself up with a little pamper time, finishing the day off with a very long and well deserved nap.

Dumping almost a whole bottle of bubble bath into the tub, topping with springs of lavender and dried chamomile, Aria plunged herself deep into the warm water.

Relaxing for approximately 2.5 seconds, the woman flew out of the bath, her naked body sopping with bubbles, dripping puddles of water as she explored her quarters impatiently.

"Why can I never find any of my books when I need them most!" She groaned, shivering from the sudden change in temperature as goose bumps formed all over her arms and legs.

Letting out a single yelp of excitement, Aria grabbed the first book she laid eyes on and dived back into her tub.

"Pride and Prejudice, of course." She mumbled, thinking back to that night Severus visited her quarters.

As she read and her mind wandered, Aria found herself making unconscious comparisons between the infamous, brooding Mr. Darcy, and her stern, yet lovable Potions mentor, Severus Snape. They were both mildly rude and arrogant, determined to never show their true emotions, but deep down it was quite possible that they loved more fiercely than anyone ever could.

Elizabeth Bennet enchanted Darcy mind, body and soul. If only there were someone brave enough to do the same to Professor Snape. Aria thought, as she allowed herself to drift off to sleep in the water.

Hours later a thunderously loud 'Bang' frightened Aria awake.

Although not positively sure of how much later it was, she could be certain a decent sleep was had given the icy temperature of the water.

Aria allowed herself a moment to come to, bracing herself against the cold, her was body aching from the ceramic constraints of the tub.

A series of bangs came this time, chapping very loudly on her chamber door. Who ever it was was clearly extremely impatient, forcing her to hurry herself up.

Wrapping herself in nothing but a white cotton towel, the witch slid her way through her rooms to the door. Clearly she wasn't even awake enough to remember where she was, and that answering her door half naked wasn't exactly professional.

Bang. Bang. BANG.

The knocks reverberated through her body, sending shivers down her spine.

Gingerly she opened the door, revealing a more than pissed off Severus Snape.

"Severus." She yawned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't act dumb with me, girl. I am not falling for this act any longer." He snapped.

"What act, Severus? Why are you here?"

"Just tell me why?" He seethed. "Why did go to so much trouble trying to convince me to be your friend, only to confess to Karkaroff, as well as the rest of the Hogwarts staff, your true feelings. Why couldn't you just leave me alone."

"Severus listen, I think we need to talk about this in private. Please come in."

"So you can try and seduce me again? I don't think so. Jesus, look at the state of you, are you really that desperate to entice me? What's next, showing up to dinner completely naked? You really are just as I thought." The potions master growled, his pitch back eyes looking her up and down.

"Severus stop" Aria begged. "I thought we had moved past all this."

"So did I. But considering you have deemed me as "unforgivable" then there doesn't appear to be much point in trying to redeem myself, does there?"

"But you're only going to make everything worse. Let me explain myself, please."

"There is nothing to explain, I shall be putting in a formal request for the headmaster to employ a separate tutor for your apprenticeship in the morning, so you never have to see me again."

The professor stormed off, just as quickly as he had arrived, achieving exactly what he had come to do; humiliate Aria Dumbledore.

Desperate to apologise for her cruel words, Aria made to follow Severus to his classroom.

Forgetting her attire, or rather lack of, she was soon reminded of it when a crowd of Slytherin students erupted in a fit laughter with its fair share of cat-calls and whistles. Clearly they had emerged from their common room to investigate the noise, but stayed for the show of the two arguing potions professors.

"Nice legs, Miss." One of the older boys called, sending a wink in her direction.

Shit. She mumbled under her breath, rushing back to her quarters to change.

Hair still dripping wet, Aria shoved it into a bun on top of her head and pulled on some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, before hunting down the potions master.

"Severus, open the door." She called, upon initially finding it to be locked.

He didn't even bother to reply.

Fine. She thought. I'll do it myself.

"Alohomora." The lock burst apart, allowing the door to slowly creep open, revealing a dishevelled and distressed professor sitting at his desk.

"Severus, please." She whispered softly, realising he had clearly come down from his short outburst of rage.

"Get out." He commanded, though he didn't make any effort to remove his head from his hands.

"Let's talk about this." The woman pleaded, pulling a chair up next to the man. "Let me explain everything."

Snape stirred from his position the closer she came, until finally he was able to look her in the eye.

"Go on." He droned. His eyes red and blood shot, whether it was from lack of sleep or tears was unclear.

"You know more than anyone that Karkaroff cannot be trusted-"

"Don't try and lie to me, Miss Dumbledore. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes." Snape snapped.

"Will you let me finish. I'm not lying to you, Severus." Aria promised. "I said what I said because I didn't want them to know the truth, Karkaroff especially. I don't know what his problem is but I know he's up to something and it involves you. You really think I'd answer any question he asked me truthfully. You're my friend, Severus, I care about you, and that man is a snake for trying to turn us against each other."

"Why should I believe you. I've barely known you a few months, I've known Igor decades."

"That is precisely why you should believe me. He's not your friend, Severus. If he was he'd be able to see the real you; the man behind the mask." She urged, begging for his trust.

Reaching out her hand to take his, Aria stroked a thumb over the cold and calloused hand of her friend.

"And who might that be?" Severus questioned in return, feeling slightly nervous under her touch, but not enough to want to pull away.

"A man." She stated simply. "Not a beast, as you and many others may presume. A good, and decent man. Perhaps he's a even a little bit scared, of what I'm not entirely sure yet. But I will find out one day, if you'll allow me, that is. Let me be your friend, Severus. Let me see what you hide from everyone else. And I promise, I'll be there for you when it matters most."

Her sweet soft tones encapsulated Severus. He had become so lost in her words and her touch that without realising he found himself falling for her speech wholeheartedly. He even risked settling his remaining hand upon hers, clasping her delicate fist between his palms.

"Well then I suppose an apology is in order. I believe I may have acted rather rash and unprofessional."

"There's really no need. You reacted just as you should have to the things you heard. I would have done the same thing in your circumstance." Aria admitted, removing her hand from his, as she made to stand up. "Though there is one thing you could do to make it up to me." She suggested.

"Dare I even ask?" Severus joked.

"I want to know what Karkaroff's after. Tell me how you know him. Why does he care so much about your life?"

Snape practically laughed in response.

"We may be friends now, Miss Dumbledore, but I'm afraid that information is rather personal. And I am not convinced we are quite at that stage in our friendship, just yet."

"I respect that." She shrugged, knowing he wasn't about to give in that easily. "I suppose that just means we'll have to get to know each other a bit more." She smiled almost ear to ear at the prospect.

"What do you have planned for your lesson today, Professor Dumbledore?" Severus queried, finally using the woman's rightful professional title.

"Ooooh 'Professor' now, am I?" She smirked, sashaying in front of her co-worker, balancing a handful of potion ingredients in her arms.

"I suppose that is your given title after all, I might as well start using it."

"Hmmm I'm not sure. I think it make's me sound too much like my grandfather. I'm not sure I could pull of the beard quite as well, what do you think?" She giggled, holding her long hair in front of her chin, imitating the old wizard playfully before clumsily dropping another dozen bottles on the table.

Severus tried his hardest to conceal his smile, busying himself with paper work, but however hard he tried he could not hide it from Aria. Every so often she managed to catch him off guard, with a silly joke, or a quick witted comment, in those rare times he allowed himself a glimmer of emotion she always managed to notice. Most of the time Severus found himself smiling at the woman for no reason other than she was simply smiling too.

Finally turning her attention away from the potions master, Aria finished setting up her table full of small bottles and vials.

"We're going to play a game." She announced cheerfully spinning on her heel.

"A game?" Severus asked, unable to stop himself turning his nose up at her idea.

"Yes. It's like a test, but more fun." She persuaded, sensing his judgement.

"And what, might I ask, is wrong with a traditional test." He queried bitterly.

"The students need motivation, Severus. The word 'test' makes people nervous. With nervousness comes panic, and with panic comes mistakes. Fear is not an accurate motivator, however competition is. The students will be less inclined to make mistakes, if they are rewarded for their efforts." The apprentice hypothesised.

"And this reward is?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes, but allowed her to do her thing uninterrupted.

Since their little 'heart to heart' that night in Snape's office the two professors were finding working with each other a lot more amiable. Severus had given Aria a little more free reign with her portion of the lessons, which in turn, allowed her to respect Severus' strict theoretical practices without causing too many interruptions. The pair had almost started to enjoy working together.

Student by student the class trickled in, each of them intrigued by the new set up of the class room.

"Everyone please take your seats, do not touch the table at the front of the room, class will begin momentarily." Miss Dumbledore announced.

A moment of panic set in as Aria scrambled around Snape's desk, looking for her list of possible potions. This may not have been her first time teaching solo, but it was, however, her opportunity to prove her practices are successful in front of her mentor, Severus Snape. The man in question could see the fear in her eyes, and that she was desperate to impress.

"Here." He mouthed, handing her the piece of parchment. "Relax."

Brushing fingers, as she took the parchment from him, Aria grinned.

"Thank you." She whispered, once again turning to face the class, now with a little more confidence.

"Now today, as you may have guessed, we are going to do something a little different. Professor Snape and I have chosen to take this opportunity to allow you, our promising young N.E.W.Ts students, to show off your skill set to the best of your ability's. On this table in front of me you will find a select variety of potions ingredients that correspond to a number of potions all very much within your capability, your task is to complete one of these potions within the allotted time, at the end of which, a winner will be selected by us."

"What do we win then, professor?" One eager student asked.

"A potion of their choice." She declared, impulsively.

A murmer of chatter instantly broke out among the class, intrigued at the prospect of winning such a thing.

"That all sounds very exciting, Miss Dumbledore." Snape cut in, unwilling to take a backseat quite so easily. "However, sadly as an apprentice professor you are not permitted to take anything from my stores to use so frivolously. The prize will have to be decided at a later time."

Unsurprisingly the students weren't too pleased with Snape's intervention causing for a series of disappointed groans and heckles.

"Then I shall make it myself." Aria concluded.

Another bout of cheers erupted.

"Collect your ingredients, light up your cauldrons, your time starts now!"

Immediately the students jumped from their seats, swarming the table to get what they needed. The professors moved away from the crowd, giving the class a moment to get started.

"Miss Dumbledore, this is not a wise decision." Severus spoke in hushed tones. "I understand entirely the prize of a potion chosen by you, but to give them a choice could be extremely dangerous, think of the chaos that will ensue."

"How about you have a little faith in them for once. Trust that they will make the right decision."

Looking down on the woman, Severus couldn't help but trust she would be right.

"I have faith in you. Not in them." He made clear.

Severus made to walk away, leaving Aria to relish in her small victory, until he was suddenly pulled back by the young woman's hand in his. Not saying a word, Aria Dumbledore gave him an appreciative squeeze, before releasing him back to his desk.

The first hour of the classes passed by effortlessly, the students worked quietly and Severus found no reason to complain. All in all, Aria was quite pleased with how her lesson was going.

That was until...

"Oh shiiiiit."

"Language Mr. Lawrence." Severus warned, briefly looking up from his marking.

"Right, sorry sir. But what the fuck am I supposed to do when this thing starts bubbling like crazy." He freaked out, completely ignoring the potions master's warning.

"What?" Aria gasped, only just becoming aware of the situation.

"Yeah like this thing looks likes 'bout to blow, to be honest with you." The seventh year Hufflepuff boy informed nonchalantly.

"Step away from that cauldron students, quickly!" Aria ordered, ushering them to the sides of the classroom. "You were attempting a wit-sharpening potion, is that correct?"

"Yup."

"I'm afraid there's no saving it now, Mr. Lawrence, the best we can hope for is that it does not turn to acid and burn through bench."

"Out of my way." Severus huffed impatiently, forcing his way through the crowd of students that had formed around the cauldron.

"Pass me that root of ginger" Snape demanded, positioning himself in front of the ever growing cauldron of bubbling green liquid. Aria obeyed hastily, as the professor performed what she could only describe as a miracle on this horrifying concoction. "Some more newt spleens." He requested, holding out a hand expectantly, while the other gripped onto his wand, casting an enchantment over the potion.

The potions master continued adding a bit of this and a dash of that to the potion, all ingredients Aria Dumbledore would never have considered to associate with this particular brew. Jars of herbs, spices and animal parts were passed through the classroom in order to reach Professor Snape who continuously stirred the potion, muttering all sorts of charms and spells.

However skilled Aria had assumed she was at the art of potion making, it was made clear to her that she was no match for Severus' skills, brewing potions was second nature to him now. Within minutes he had achieved what Aria Dumbledore had deemed impossible, and thus the potion was brought back to it's natural state.

"Severus..." The apprentice gawped. "That was amazing."

"That was nothing." He replied curtly, removing himself from the scene. "Everybody back to work, this is not an excuse to slack off."

Still in awe at the pure artistry she had witnessed, Aria trotted sheepishly back to the front of the class.

Blissfully unaware of the pure talent they had just seen, the students continued on with their work. The Hufflepuff boy did not even have the decency to thank his professor for salvaging the mess he called a potion, let alone be grateful he never received a detention, or deduction of house points.

"What are you staring at, Miss Dumbledore, is there no better way you can spend your time?"

"I'm sorry Severus, but that display was just... brilliant." She beamed.

"Like I said, it was nothing. It comes with the job, I refuse to have any of those delinquents burn through my entire store cupboard because they cannot brew a simple potion, a year below their level no less."

"Well, at least we know who definitely won't be winning anyway." Aria giggled.

"The most we can hope for from that boy is that he manages to finish his potion, god knows he'll need it."

Playfully slapping Snape on the arm for his cheek, the witch perched herself on the edge of the professor's desk, attempting a quick sketch on a scrap piece of parchment, while the students begun to finish off their potions.

"Professor Snape, the winner?" Aria asked, turning to her colleague for a verdict once all of the potions had been completed.

"You want me to choose?" Severus replied, skeptical of her offer.

"Of course. I don't think it would be fair of me to do it, considering I've been giving all of them tips this lesson."

"Very well." He droned, stepping forth to analyse the contents of the cauldrons.

"This one." He announced, pointing a single finger to the cauldron of a young Slytherin witch. "Given that it was the only potion brewed to complete perfection, there is no other possible candidate. I suggest the rest of you get studying before your N.E.W.T's exams, at the rate you lot are going, none of you besides Miss Johnstone here is likely to pass." Snape scolded.

"Well then, congratulations Miss Johnstone, you are the winner of a potion of your choice. See me after lessons tomorrow and let me know your decision."

The girl practically beamed with pride, expecting nothing less than first place.

"Class dismissed."

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

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jekde04 · 4 years ago

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A Glimpse of the Future

Pairing: Gruvia (Gray Fullbuster & Juvia Lockser)

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Genre: Romance

Word Count: 3,253 words

Summary: Juvia had always wondered where exactly she stood with Gray. She finally got her answer when Gray came back from Edolas and saw someone he never expected. [Based on Chapter 66 of Fairy Tail 100 Years Quest.]

You may also read it on FanFiction.net or AO3!

Juvia ran to the guild as fast as her feet could take her. If she only knew they'd be back this morning, she wouldn't have taken that three-day job outside Magnolia that prevented her from taking her usual station at the table nearest the guild doors – the one she claimed for herself every time Gray would come back from a mission.

She barged right into Fairy Tail and shouted, "Gray-sama!" attracting the attention of a few guild members. Everyone was so used to her Gray-related antics by now that they no longer pay much attention to it. Max simply pointed to the direction of the infirmary with a kind smile and told her, "He's over there, Juvia."

"Thank you, Max-san!" Juvia gave him a clumsy bow before she dashed off to the infirmary, as if Gray might disappear any moment.

After all, it wasn't like her fear was unfounded. The last time they were together, Gray's body suddenly glowed and disappeared to God-knows-where for days. Only the thought of the rest of Team Natsu being with him made Juvia calm down.

And now they were back, she could hardly wait to see her Gray-sama.

Slowing down as she approached the infirmary, Juvia pushed the door gently and peeked. Lucy, Natsu, Erza, Wendy, and Gray lay on each bed, all sound asleep. Quietly, she made her way towards Gray's bed, the one farthest from the door and nearest the window. She sat beside him on the mattress, the bed creaking a little.

Though Gray looked a little roughed up – bandages wrapped around his naked torso and left arm, another bandage around his forehead, and a small gauze on his cheek – Juvia was glad his injuries were far from serious. It would take a lot for Gray-sama to become worse for wear, she thought with a smile.

Juvia gently clasped Gray's warm hand nearest to her. The action made him stir, and in a couple of seconds, Juvia found her eyes locking with Gray's still sleepy ones. "Juvia?"

"Gray-sama! Juvia's sorry to wake you up like that!" She immediately let go of his hand and cupped her reddening cheeks. "Juvia was worried, so she just wanted to check up on you. She's just glad to see you're safe. She will let you rest now." Juvia started to stand up but Gray grabbed her wrist, causing her to fall back onto the mattress.

"It's okay, Juvia," Gray said, giving her a small smile. "I was actually looking for you when I got back."

It never ceased to amaze Juvia just how much more vocal Gray had been these days. After years of pining for him and barely receiving a response, Gray being more open and receptive to her was something she still had to get used to. She didn't mind it in the least, but she still couldn't control the blush blooming on her cheeks whenever he said something remotely sweet.

"Oh, Juvia went on a solo job while you were gone," she told him. When Gray's eyes narrowed at her, she quickly added, "But it wasn't anything dangerous, Gray-sama! Juvia just had to conjure rain for this small town. It was an easy one, really. And it was something only Juvia can do." She winked at him for good measure – after all, Gray liked it when she acted cute sometimes.

During the past year, Gray had become increasingly reluctant to let her go on solo jobs, always insisting to come with her even if it was just a simple three-hour job. When his team wasn't around, he would ask her to tag along with Gajeel, Levy, and Lily. Though Juvia cherished his newfound protectiveness, she wasn't too keen on following him because she was perfectly capable of defending herself. Suffice it to say it had been the subject of a number of their disagreements.

This time though, she wasn't in the mood to argue with Gray, so she quickly changed the subject. "But where did you go, Gray-sama? What happened to all of you?"

With one last glare at her, Gray let it slide and sighed. Juvia pursed her lips to suppress the smirk forming on her lips. She knew full well that Gray would bring it up the next chance he got, but it was still a victory for her, no matter how short-lived.

Propping himself up on the bed so he was sitting against the headboard facing her, he answered, "We were transported to Edolas."

"Edolas! You mean, the world without magic? How?"

"Apparently, the White Mage brought us there because she needed our help, but I can't really go into details. You know we can't divulge anything about the 100 Years Quest."

Juvia nodded. "Oh, so it was part of the quest. Juvia understands and won't pry anymore." She patted his leg and added, "Juvia's just really glad that Gray-sama's back in one piece."

Gray grinned. "Of course. And we got a lot of help too from the Edolas Fairy Tail."

Juvia's eyes lit up. "Really? So you got to meet our counterparts there!" she said, clapping her hands together. She heard so many tales about their Edolas doppelgangers, especially about Edo-Gray pining for Edo-Juvia. She got so jealous about it that she even reverted to her old hairstyle just to try to get Gray to notice her. Sadly, it didn't make a difference.

"Uhh... yes," Gray replied sheepishly, cheeks reddening as he did so.

She waited for Gray to continue, but when he didn't, she prodded him. "So, how was it? Did Edo-Gray finally get Edo-Juvia to love him back?"

Gray simply nodded, not looking Juvia in the eye. Is Gray-sama embarrassed?

Wanting to learn more, Juvia continued to question him. "That's great! So, they're now a couple?"

"Y-yeah. Well, kind of."

Juvia's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Is it like... ours?"

It was now Gray's turn to be confused. He looked at her, raising a brow as he asked, "Ours?"

Juvia blushed as she looked away. Truth be told, she and Gray never sat down to have "the talk" before, as she always felt that Gray wasn't the type to put labels in a relationship – or even get into a relationship, for that matter. But the shift in their... whatever they had going on right now was apparent ever since their war with the Alvarez army.

For one, Gray had become more protective of her, not allowing her to go on solo missions he deemed dangerous (As if he had a say in that, Juvia thought smugly, though she appreciated the concern). Gray would also immediately cover her up or drag her somewhere private every time he realized she had once again stripped alongside him during their battles.

And she couldn't deny that Gray had been spending a lot of time with her, whether on missions, in the guild, or even just some random day strolling at the park – eating caramade franks, laughing at each other's stories about their guild mates, with Gray insisting that "this is not a date" even as he walked her back home, his scowl getting bigger and bigger as they neared the doorstep of Fairy Hills.

And then there were those subtle touches and gestures, too small to notice if you weren't paying attention. But Juvia was Juvia, and she always paid attention to everything her Gray-sama did.

So she always felt those lingering touches on her elbow, her shoulders, and at the small of her back whenever they were walking together. She noticed those smirks that turned into smiles that he tried to hide whenever she said something amusing or did something cute. She basked at how he always sat a little too close to her even if there was still plenty of space on his other side, their elbows and knees touching. And there had been one too many times when she caught him gazing at her, eyes suddenly traveling somewhere else as his crimson cheeks betrayed him.

Juvia saw and loved all those changes. She couldn't deny how Gray made her feel special.

But if she was being completely honest, she wanted more.

She wanted him to talk to her more openly, so she didn't have to rack her brain just over analyzing his words. She wanted him to feel free to hold her hand whenever he wanted to, not just brush them against hers and get extra sulky when she wouldn't latch onto his arm like he was used to. She wanted to let everyone know that Gray was hers, erasing the fear that one day, he would just wake up and find a love rival who's a lot better than her.

Juvia wanted to know if they were on the same page. She wanted to know if they have a future together.

But she also knew that she couldn't force Gray to take a step forward if he wasn't ready. So, Juvia did what she knew she did best for Gray – wait for him. Patiently.

"Umm, nothing, Gray-sama. Juvia just wanted to know what you meant when you said they were kind of a couple," Juvia stammered, internally chastising herself for almost forcing Gray to put a label on their relationship.

Gray just stared at her, as if debating in his mind what to say next. When he spoke again, it was in a low voice. "They're not like us... Actually, they're already married."

"Juveen!" Juvia shrieked and immediately covered her mouth, remembering that their friends are sleeping. She could feel her blood boil and all of a sudden, her face felt extremely hot. Against her will, her mind launched into an all-too-familiar scenario of the two of them exiting the church after their wedding, all their friends cheering at the lovely newlyweds. Gray would sweep her into his arms, lean her backwards, inch his face closer as she closed her eyes...

"Juvia? You there?"

Juvia's eyes snapped open – she drifted off to dreamland again with just the mention of marriage! Gray's hands were waving in front of her, his face a mix of concern and amusement.

"Juvia's s-sorry! It's just that... m-married..." Juvia stuttered, fidgeting on her seat. If the couples in Edolas are the same in Earthland, then does that mean that Juvia and Gray-sama would... She shook her head as her imagination threatened to run amok again.

But instead of giving him his usual scowl, Gray's lips curved into a small smile.

"That's not the best part."

Juvia just stared blankly at him. Is Gray-sama insane?! What else could be better than getting married to him?

"They... they have a son."

Juvia's jaw dropped as she felt more blood rush to her cheeks, and she fought the urge to squeal again. A son?! For Gray-sama and Juvia???

But instead of an equally embarrassed Gray, she was surprised to see him staring outside the window, a contented smile playing on his lips and a hint of pink on his cheeks. It was a completely new expression she hadn't seen in Gray before.

"You know... he has your eyes. Huge, dark blue ones, like you can just get lost in them. And your lashes, too. They frame his eyes so perfectly," Gray said as his eyes crinkled a little in remembrance. "His hair's like mine, though. Dark, but I think it had a tiny bit of blue in it. But a messy mop of hair like mine all the same." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small laugh.

He finally returned his gaze on Juvia. "At first, I really freaked out. I mean, that's a kid right there – five, maybe six – who looks like you and me at the same time. It's so uncanny. He even acts all quiet and cool, it's like looking in the mirror.

"But then he blushed, and he... he's just so cute. Too cute for his own good," Gray said with a soft smile on his face. Juvia was so fixated on what Gray was saying that she didn't notice his hand intertwining with hers.

"He... he looks so much like you when he blushes. All shy and cute, like I just want to squish his tiny cheeks and kiss them." He was smiling widely now, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck – a habit Juvia knew he does when he was feeling shy.

"I can't believe we could make something as precious as that, you know?" Gray locked eyes with her, and Juvia felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering in her stomach for a thousand different reasons.

Maybe it was the fact that their Edolas counterparts were now married and had a family together. Maybe it was because she had never seen Gray like that before, so happy and at ease.

Or maybe it was the possibility that this was the same future laid out for them: a happy marriage and an adorable son who was the perfect mix of both of them, in looks and personality. 'I can't believe we could make something as precious as that, you know?'

Could Gray-sama be thinking that far ahead... with Juvia?

She knew she could spend an eternity just watching Gray like that, but she had to remind herself that this was not actually their life. It was Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia's, not theirs. Right now, she wasn't even in a formal relationship with Gray. Her heart sank a little.

Forcing to tear her gaze away, she shook her head and brought herself back to reality. "That's... that's nice, Gray-sama."

Gray frowned at Juvia's sudden change of demeanor. He squeezed her hand and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Well, it's just that... it's Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia. It's not really us."

It took a few moments for Gray to respond.

"Yeah, you're right."

They stayed silent for some time, Gray once again pensively gazing outside the window and Juvia looking down on her lap, busily fidgeting with her skirt. When he finally spoke, she could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "Juvia... don't you want something like that?"

A mix of emotions rushed straight into Juvia's heart like a raging river. Shouldn't Gray-sama know by now that there's nothing else in the world that Juvia wants than to get married and build a family with him?

"Of course Juvia wants it!" she answered, a little too loudly. Checking herself, she added in a whisper, "It's just that she's not sure if that's what Gray-sama wants, too."

Gray looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "W-what? But I thought all these will eventually lead to that!"

"E-eh? Wha... What does Gray-sama mean?"

Gray drew a deep breath. "Juvia, I know I'm slow at these... things, but I'm sure."

When she didn't react, he continued. "It may have taken me a while to get here, but I'm here with you. I'm here for the long haul. And seeing that boy Greige, well, it gave me a glimpse of what our long haul looks like." He took her other hand in his. "I mean, I've always known and felt that it's going to be with you, but seeing it, in the flesh, it... it made me more excited about what the future has in store for us."

Juvia couldn't believe her ears as her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. Just a few moments ago, she was questioning herself whether this was what Gray really wanted, and now, here he was, telling her that they have a future together. Her eyes filled with tears as she grasped Gray's hands tighter.

"Gray-sama wants... a future with Juvia?"

Gray averted his eyes and scratched his cheek with a finger, looking a little bashful. "Of course. Who else would it be?" he mumbled. Then he looked back at her, his eyes softening. "And frankly, I kind of want to start that future as soon as possible."

Steam shot out from Juvia's ears. She snatched her hands away from him and covered her chest.

"E-eh?! Gray-sama wants to make a baby right now?" Juvia exclaimed, face as red as a tomato.

Gray flailed his hands in front of him, just as flustered as Juvia was. "N-no! Not right now, of course!"

She threw herself in his arms as he squirmed. "Juvia would love to! Juvia and Gray-sama better start right now if they want 32 babies!"

"32?! What the hell, Juvia!"

Juvia pretended to be hurt as she looked him in the eye. "Gray-sama does not want to have babies with Juvia, then?" She pouted and gave him her best puppy dog eyes, tears threatening to fall on her cheeks.

"No! I mean, yes! No! Juvia!" Gray ran a hand on his face, then sighed. He grabbed her shoulders and stared right back at her.

"Look, I want babies. With you. But not right now. And not 32, for God's sake! Just please, don't cry." With that, he pulled her into his arms and Juvia couldn't help the warm feeling spreading throughout her whole body. Gray-sama really sees a future with Juvia!

Deciding to stop tormenting Gray, Juvia wiggled out of his grasp as she smiled and cupped his face in her hands. "Juvia's just teasing you, Gray-sama. But... she wants you to know how happy you made her just by hearing that Juvia is part of your future."

Gray's face softened, his hands cupping her cheeks as well. "I honestly don't know how you could think otherwise." Gray's face inched closer to hers, his breath fanning her lips, and Juvia closed her eyes.

"Get a room, you two," Lucy's voice broke the moment, making both jump away from each other, red cheeks and all. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they forgot they weren't alone in the room.

"How many eggs would you like Juvia to lay, Ice Pants?" Natsu asked as he tried to control his laughter.

"Shut up, Flame Brain!" Gray retorted. "At least I'm not stupid enough to believe that babies come from eggs!"

Natsu crinkled his brows in confusion while Lucy facepalmed and Wendy giggled. Erza mumbled something about Natsu's need for further education.

"Moron! They totally do! Happy came from an egg!"

"Natsu-san, I don't think it's the same..."

"Idiot! How did you grow up and not know where babies come from!"

"Natsu! Gray!"

As the petty exchange escalated to a full-on brawl, Juvia cheered her Gray-sama, heart fluttering with the promise that someday, a beautiful boy with her deep ocean eyes and his unruly dark locks would be jumping and shouting beside her, cheering his Daddy on.

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing this even though I was in the middle of working on another fic. I just can’t wait for Gray to tell Juvia about Greige!

#gruvia #gray x juvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #gruvia fanfiction #greige surge

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ickle-ronniekins · 5 years ago

Text

just friends

request from anon: I desperately need a fake dating trope with our fav Georgie boy with a cutie Gryffindor girl <333 pls?!

word count: 6.7k holy hell mates

A/N: WAIT OMG i’m obsessed with fake dating trope stories—they’re so cute! and i’ve never written any before! i don’t think, at least lmao. thank you for blessing me with this request, am so excited, also sorry i got a tad carried away

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added!

“Quick! Hide me!”

George Weasley normally doesn’t mind the fame, if you will, that comes with being part of the most well-known duo Hogwarts has ever seen.

In fact, he welcomes the attention. Maybe not as much as Fred, but he welcomes it, nonetheless.

That is, until a boisterous Ravenclaw is doing everything in her power to grab his attention. How many times can he possibly tell her, in the nicest way possible, that he doesn’t fancy her?

Maybe being nice, Fred explains to him, isn’t the way to go. He doesn’t need to be rude, but he needs to be aggressive—or, blatantly obvious in a way that she won’t be able to ignore. Why can he not seem to shake this girl? She’s undeniably obsessed, Ron laughs one day, as George does his best to push his headache away, his eyes tired from constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that feisty Ravenclaw is nowhere to be found. He was finding it harder than usual to concentrate in classes—and not in a good way.

George is used to the teasing by now—from his brothers, from Ginny, from Harry, from you—the friendly, fellow Gryffindor prankster—giving Fred and George a run for their money.

He ducks closer to you when he spots her peering, and you nearly choke on your soup during the feast, as the Ravenclaw twirls her hair, watching George with what can only be described as googly eyes.

“Oh dear,” you begin sarcastically, elbowing George next to you, “someone’s in rare form tonight.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sarcastically as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, doing his best to block her out by adjusting himself so that Ron’s head covers her face. She notices this, and schooches over in her seat, until George is in her line of view again.

“Merlin’s beard,” he says through gritted teeth, looking down at his food, “I laugh at one of her jokes one time and she can’t seem to let it go.”

“These girls are crazy,” Ron says as he sips on his pumpkin juice, only to receive death glares from you, Hermione, and Ginny. “I—I mean, just that girl—not all women—” he uncomfortably clears his throat and smiles, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of scarlet.

“Have you tried landing yourself in detention more often than not?” Seamus Finnegan pipes up, “in me own experiences, girls don’t fancy a lad who’s always getting scolded,”

George shakes his head. “The more outrageous the prank, the more brutal the scolding, the more obsessed she becomes,” he tells you all begrudgingly, “I can’t bloody take it anymore.”

As the feast ends, George’s admirer stands up, eyeing him curiously, ready to make her move, yet again—but he finds himself scurrying out of the Great Hall as fast as possible—he’s flying up the staircase and it doesn’t even register with him that he’s not breathing until he enters the common room and lets out a huge sigh of relief. Only narrowly escaped that Ravenclaw, he did. He’s resting in an armchair as the rest of you wander inside a few minutes later, laughing at the flustered sight of him.

George doesn’t know what he’s going to do to get this girl off of his back. It seems as though he’s tried everything.

Unless?

A solution pops into his head very late at night whilst laying in bed, staring up at the curtains of his four poster in the darkness. He jumps up, checks his watch, and groans when he sees the time. In the bed next to his, Fred is sprawled out over his bedsheets, snoring quite loudly as if to say, I’m having a lovely sleep, thank you! George sucks in a breath and lays back down—his mind now swimming with ideas, his smile cheeky, his eyes widened. If this doesn’t give her the hint that he’s not interested, he doesn’t know what will.

It’ll just have to wait until morning, he supposes.

— -

“Y/N!”

You jump a little, not expecting to hear your name yelled across the Great Hall so very early in the morning. George spots you from the entrance, and after making sure there are no other unwanted guests around, he calls out to you and rushes toward the table.

“Hi, George,” you begin, smirking a bit, “you’re up early for someone who has a free period.”

“Needed to catch you before your Herbology lesson,” he places himself across from you and pours himself a bit of coffee—it’s aware to you now that he still needs a little bit of a pick me up. “I need your help.”

“Ah,” you reply and clap your hands together. “The time was quickly approaching—I’m in need of a good prank, you know! It’s been a bit since I’ve gotten involved in a bit of mischief, classes have been so bloody draining lately—so what were you thinking?”

George laughs at this. He does admire your sense of adventure and your equal love of pranking, but no. That isn’t what this is about. He sucks in a breath as he shakes his head, eyeing your curious look before opening his mouth again.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to get… you know who,” he eyes the Ravenclaw table suspiciously, “off of my back.”

You gasp audibly, bringing a hand to cover your mouth as your eyes widen. “Blimey, Georgie—you know who? Why didn’t you tell me that Volde—”

George nearly spits out his coffee due to a snort. Thank goodness he doesn’t. “Ha-ha, anyone ever tell you you’re absolutely hilarious?” He sinks into his seat and rubs his hands over his eyes, as if to brush away tears from laughing too hard. He then continues, after a bit of a laughing fit, “She just needs a push in a different direction, is all.”

You furrow your brow in confusion and bite into a piece of bacon. “And you need my help for that?”

“Precisely,” George tells you, scooping some eggs onto his plate. “Just hear me out.”

“That’s not a great way to start things out, you know.”

He scoffs and then grins cheekily at you. Then, he says, “You need to pretend to go out with me.”

You nearly choke on your piece of toast. “I beg your pardon?” you ask, completely stunned by his request. As you begin to laugh, George feels his insides tighten, and he wants to say, What the bloody hell is the big deal? but instead, he waits, and ends up laughing too.

“Oh, George,” you say after regaining your composure, spreading some more butter onto your toast, “you’re a riot, you are.”

When he doesn’t answer, but instead licks his lips impatiently and takes another sip of coffee and peers at you, as if waiting for your answer, you freeze.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“You’re bloody right I am.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so she’ll end up stalking me too?”

The two of you erupt into a fit of laughter. Then he peers solemnly at you with wide eyes, as if to beg. “Pleaaaase, Y/N?”

You eye him suspiciously. “What’s in it for me?”

He scoffs again. “Extra time spent with me,” a loud crunch comes from his mouth when he bites into his piece of toast, and he winks. “I know you can’t get enough.”

You snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley.”

He picks up his cup of coffee, holds it up across the table to you and asks before you have time to think things through, “We have a deal?”

You roll your eyes at this gesture, but he’s patiently waiting for you to agree. What will this mean, exactly—pretending to date one another? You’re about to ask him, but it’s almost as if you know—it won’t last long. Soon she’ll get the hint, and the shenanigans can end. You go against your better judgement, acting on the very fearlessness that landed you in Gryffindor house to begin with, pick up your cup of tea and clink it with his. Feeling very pleased with himself, he leans back in his chair and grins cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You narrow your eyes and say, “Fine—but only because you’ve asked so nicely.”

Just then, you both notice a giggling gaggle of Ravenclaws enter the Great Hall, and George is already feeling his insides begin to swirl nervously. He’s doing things before he can even fully register what’s going on—

He leans across the table and takes a chunk out of the piece of bacon you’re currently also biting into, his face just inches from yours. You nearly choke on it due to surprise of how close he is to you, and he can’t help but begin to laugh, yet again. Always laughing with you, he is. “Erm—excuse me! Eat your own breakfast, you git!”

Just then, you notice her eyes flicker back and forth very quickly between the two of you, before she slowly passes you both by on her way to the Ravenclaw table, careful to listen to whatever the two of you are speaking about.

George can hardly contain his nerves, but figures he might as well get started on this fake dating thing. The sooner she leaves him alone, the better off he’ll be, “Love it when you talk sweetly to me, darling.”

— -

“You two’re out of your bloody mind.”

Fred does not hold back his laughter later that evening when George divulges your plans. The unmistakable sound of Ron snorting bounces off of the walls in the common room, and he turns red in the face.

“You two? You two?”

“What?” you and George chorus together. George continues explaining to the younger redhead across from him, “It’s perfect—we’re best mates already, and we’re all in a bunch of the same classes together—maybe this will finally give her the hint,”

“It’s not going to work.” Ron replies, looking rather amused. He shoots you a look.

“Well, can’t make any promises, of course,” you tell the lot, “but I reckon we put in the work, it’s bound to fix the problem eventually.”

Ron, Harry and Fred continue to roar with laughter in the common room. “She will never fall for that!”

“Why not?” George asks a bit angrily. He’s nervous now—if this plan doesn’t work, he doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s going to do. Transfer to a school on the moon, at this point.

“Because,” Ron starts, holding back a snort, “Y/N’s Y/N and you’re—you.”

You and George glance at one another, and then back at Ron. The common room is now buzzing with chatter and gossip and it’s becoming hard for everyone to focus on the conversation. “Meaning?”

“I dunno,” Harry pipes up. “You guys just don’t really look like you’d be a couple.”

“Exactly,” Fred agrees, “you’re too—close. Friendly. You’re just.. friends,” he leans back casually in his chair with his hands behind his head, “it wouldn’t work. But, by all means—” he puts his hands up in surrender, chuckling before he continues, “—go for it and embarrass yourselves. I’m in a good need of a laugh.”

— -

Charms is, by far, George’s favorite class at Hogwarts. If he could take that and only that, he reckons he would. But with Little Miss Obsessed on the other end of the corridor, watching him as if her life depends on it, he can’t help but count down the seconds until the lesson is over—or, at least, the seconds until you get here.

You walk up next to him, finally, with Fred on his other side. “Morning, you two,” you tell them through a yawn. Your few cups of tea haven’t seemed to help your exhaustion from the night before—multiple games of exploding snap and copious amounts of butterbeer until the late hours of the evening did not do you good. You lean against the wall and close your eyes. “Are we awake yet?”

“Morning, Y/N!” Fred says brightly, patting you on the shoulder, waiting for Professor Flitwick to arrive and open the door to the classroom.

“Merlin, Fred, it is far too early to be this bloody excited about anything.”

Next to you, George laughs sleepily and nudges you with his elbow.

“Oh,” Fred replies. You can hear the smirk and mischief in his voice, even with your eyes half closed, “I just thought you’d be more excited to see your boyfriend this morning.”

This certainly wakes you up. You jump slightly and peer at George, who’s rather alert now, as well. You’d almost forgotten. Nearing closer to the classroom entrance, you eye the Ravenclaw, who’s watching you both very suspiciously and whispering to her cronies around her. Before any of you can register what’s happening, you lean over and place a kiss onto George’s cheek.

Fred stifles a laugh, Flitwick is opening the classroom door, the Ravenclaw is fuming, but all George can focus on is what just happened. Through gritted teeth and a very cheeky smile he’s trying his hardest to suppress, he asks you, “What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just abiding by the rules of your request,” you whisper back, grinning at him. “If she’s going to think we’re a couple, we better act like it, haven’t we?”

George hadn’t really thought about this—embracing you, kissing you, holding your hand. If he was being honest, he didn’t think about it because everyone had already mistakenly taken you two for a couple just a few months prior, when all you two had been doing is exactly what you’d done all along—be friends. He kind of just assumed the same thing would happen.

“Right,” he says, the heat of the fleeting moment dying down. “Yeah, of course.”

The three of you waltz into the classroom and take your seats near the middle, with the Ravenclaw sitting a few rows ahead, trying her hardest to peer stealthily over her shoulder at the two of you. It seems as though she’s definitely noticed something.

Flitwick begins the lesson and you lazily lean your head against George’s shoulder, sticking the back end of your quill in your mouth and listening as Flitwick tells you the desired page to turn to in your textbooks. Teasingly, George asks, “What am I—your pillow now?”

You turn to peer up at him. In a low voice you tell him, “If I’m going to be your fake girlfriend, you’re going to let me lean on you when I’m sleepy. Deal?”

You turn your focus back toward the front of the class and George can’t help but smile at you, shaking his head in admiration. He slings an arm around you and props himself into a more comfortable position.

“Okay, then. Deal.”

— -

George is now finding it incredibly easy to pretend to be your “boyfriend”. The hand holding, constant embracing, and laughing into oblivion seems to come naturally—it doesn’t even feel strange to him, and he’s amused to see that you’re taking it the same way. Probably because you got on so well with one another before all of these shenanigans started. Right?

While his admirer’s persistence has seemed to die down a bit, she still winds up watching and cornering him in corridors from time to time—but it’s easier with you arm in arm with him. She doesn’t linger too long, or continue to flirt obnoxiously with him. It seems as though your plan is working. Now, if only she can find a significant other of her own to pay attention too—

You’re sitting in Transfiguration, working on the bird conjuring charm you’d been dying to perfect in your free time whilst McGonagall steps outside for a moment to meet with Professor Sprout, and you’re doing your best to ignore the glares from the other end of the classroom.

“How d’you reckon the plan is working out?” Fred asks you both.

“Well, she’s certainly not as persistent,” George tells his twin in a low voice, eyeing the Ravenclaw stealthily across the classroom, “but I’m not sure she’s entirely convinced.”

You break your focus on the charm and turn toward the twins. “Reckon she will soon.”

“Yeah?” they chorus together.

“Yeah,” you reply, picking up your wand, not giving them any further information.

Fred crosses his arms and looks at you quizzically. When you neglect to continue, he asks with a twinge of sarcasm to his voice, “And how, may I ask, do you know this?”

You stifle a laugh and practice your flourishing movements without conjuring the charm. “—‘cause.. she’s just got to, hasn’t she? I’m telling you—we keep this up for a bit longer, and she’ll forget all about you. Mark my words.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Avis,”

A puff of smoke emits from your wand, along with a loud blasting sound, and then a flock of birds twitters in front of you and you stand up straighter in front of your desk, feeling extremely pleased with yourself.

“Bloody hell,” Fred and George say together, peering admiringly at the flock of birds you’d managed to conjure. George continues, “That is N.E.W.T Level stuff you’re doing, Y/N!” He picks you up and spins you around, your hair flying into your eyes. You’re weightless to him. When he places you back down gingerly on your feet, he brushes the hair gently out of your face and says, “You’re brilliant, you are.”

Breathlessly, you answer him, “Thanks,”

His hand is still in your hair, his fingers delicately brushing your cheek. George can suddenly feel his insides tighten and his face go rosy—but why?

The entire world seems to stop around you both. It’s as if nobody else exists.

Thankfully, though, when both of you snap back to reality at the sound of McGonagall re-entering the classroom, you both see that nobody else has seemed to notice your small intimate moment.

You pull nervously at the edges of your sleeves and take your seat again next to George, who is running a hand through his hair. When he turns to look at Fred, who must’ve noticed this small exchange, George is relieved to see that there’s no cocky or amused expression on his face—he’s merely pouting due to the continuation of the Transfiguration lesson.

— -

The weather is surprisingly warm for a winter day. George is seated up against a tree near the water’s edge, fiddling with something in his hands—an invention, no doubt—when you plop down next to him with a slight groan.

“Long day?”

“Why in the hell did I decide to take Double Herbology?” you whine, letting your bag sink into the ground next to you. You place your head into your hands, grinding your knuckles into your temples to rid yourself of your headache. You elbow him slightly, “How come you didn’t stop me?”

George laughs, looking back down at this knick knack in his hands yet again. “You were pretty adamant about taking doubles,” he recalls, thinking back to when you’d originally picked these few classes, “don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, well,” you begin, breathing in the smell of the sweet air, picking at the grass in between your fingers, “I suppose it was sort of a silly decision, wasn’t it? I’m bloody exhausted.”

Up near the castle, Ron spots you two and is about to run down to join you both, when Fred tugs on his robes and holds him back, nearly choking him. “Oi!” he exclaims, turning back toward his older brother. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“Before we all head down there to join the lovebirds,” Fred begins, grinning cheekily at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, “I’d like to pick your brains.”

“About what?” Ginny and Hermione ask together.

“Well, precisely what I’ve just said,” Fred tells them, leaning against the entrance of the castle, his bag slung over his shoulder. “The lovebirds.”

Ron and Harry glance at Fred quizzically. “What about them?”

“I’m starting to believe this whole fake dating nonsense isn’t really fake at all.”

Harry laughs at the site of Ron’s agape mouth, when Ginny just shakes her head at her older brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred. No way they’re really together. They would’ve told us, no?”

Fred crosses his arms. “I’m not so sure of that.”

Harry asks him, “How d’you reckon?”

“I was watching them in Transfiguration the other day,” Fred begins to tell them, watching to make sure the two of you are still out of earshot. “We were all chatting whilst McGonagall needed to step out, Y/N was doing some really advanced type of magic—N.E.W.T Level,”

Still, Ron’s jaw is dropped. He’s seemingly impressed. “Blimey—really?”

“Not the point of the story, Ronniekins.”

Ron turns a bright shade of pink and goes very silent at everyone’s slight snickers. Fred continues, “Anyway—we were all talking about how this plan of theirs was unfolding—to be honest with you, I haven’t seen much of that Ravenclaw around, but George swears she’s still pining over him. So, Y/N does this really advanced charm and George nearly topples over, picks her up and spins her around—you know,” he turns toward his brother and sister, “like those scenes in those silly Muggle movies mum watches. Then, everything went really quiet between the two of them, and they were just—looking at one another, for a really long time.”

Hermione asks, “Like how, exactly?”

Fred thinks on this for a moment. Then he replies, running a hand through his hair, “Like they’re in love.”

Ginny narrows her eyes. “So? Doesn’t mean they’re actually in love. I mean.. they are supposed to be acting like a couple—that’s the point of all of this.”

“So,” Fred says, ignoring everything else Ginny has just mentioned, “I’ve got a plan.”

Ginny turns toward Hermione, “Never a good sign.”

Fred nudges his sister playfully through bits of hearty laughter from the group. “I think we should slip them both a love potion—see if anything changes—if it does, we know they truly are faking. I’ve got the antidote all ready to go.”

“A love potion?” Harry asks.

“Those pink bottles you’ve got all over your room at home?” Ron adds.

“Yes,” Fred says brightly. “Admittedly—it’ll probably be one of our most popular inventions in due time. But Merlin, they are dangerous—you know, when it comes to love, and all that.”

After nearly everyone agrees, Fred begins to put his plan into action—when it will happen, the time of day, just exactly how they’re going to pull it off—when Hermione decides to interject her opinion.

“Nothing’s going to change, you know.”

Ron nearly drops his bag onto the ground. “D’you know something we don’t?”

Hermione laughs. “No, of course not, but—well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” But clearly, it isn’t quite as obvious as it should be. “They’re already in love!”

Before Ron, Ginny, and Harry can interject their thoughts and objections, Fred turns toward her and says, “Cheers, Hermione.”

“You agree, do you?”

“I do,” Fred replies, now focusing his attention on the two of you down by the lake. It seems to him, he realizes, that while your love may be obvious to some, it’s the two of you that are completely oblivious. He watches as you sink back into George’s chest, his arm slung around your shoulder as you both continue to laugh animatedly about something. Fred points and says, ”Just look at them, would you! D’you see the Ravenclaw anywhere near here? No.”

“Fred,” Harry begins, “if you think they’re faking, then why in the bloody hell d’you want to waste a love potion on them?”

Fred just smiles evilly. “So it’ll be easier to get them to just admit it already.”

— -

“Okay then—enough homework for one evening, I’m absolutely knackered,” you tell the twins, folding up the parchment of your Potions essay and slipping it carefully into your bag, “you two coming back to the common room?”

“Yeah, in a bit,” Fred says, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he flips through his spell book, “this assignment is a right pain in the—”

He stops himself when he notices Madam Pince in the corner, eyeing him suspiciously. You ask them both, “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nah, that’s alright, I know you’re exhausted,” George tells you, appreciative of all the help you’ve given them already. “You go on.. we’ll meet you before you head off to bed.”

“Alright,” you reply sweetly, leaning in to place a featherlight kiss to his cheek. His hair at the nape of his neck feels so soft beneath your fingertips, “See you later.”

The Ravenclaw at the next table, Fred notices, isn’t quite as angry at this exchange as she would have been a few weeks ago. Has everything truly been working in their favor?

But George hardly notices—he just looks back down at his bit of parchment and continues to work on his conclusion, trying very, very hard, in Fred’s opinion, to suppress a grin. It’s rather noticeable alongside the cherry red color of his cheeks.

Only a few minutes pass by of silence between the twins before Madam Pince is hurrying everyone out of the library. The group of Ravenclaws make their way, albeit slightly reluctantly, to the opposite end of the castle toward their common room. George has never been so happy to be heading up to bed.

“Oi, Georgie,” Fred begins as they trudge through the corridors, “how long d’you reckon this thing between you and Y/N is going to last?”

“Dunno,” George tells his twin truthfully through a yawn. His four poster is so close, just a few more corridors to get through… “Until that Ravenclaw stops showing up everywhere I go, I suppose.”

Fred snorts at this comment. “Well, you can’t help class, mate.”

“Yeah, but, I mean everywhere else.”

Fred tugs on his brother’s robes and gets him to stop right before the entrance to the common room.

“C’mon, just be straight with me,”

George just glances at him with a confused look.

“About Y/N,” Fred prods.

“What about her?”

“You may be fooling everyone else, but you’re not fooling me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fred’s feeling slightly annoyed at his brother’s obvious denial now. “I know how you feel about her, Georgie. I see the way you look at her. Why don’t you both just come out and say it so you can be together for real?”

George actually has to place his bag on the ground. He rolls his eyes—somehow, he knew this was coming. “What the bloody hell are you on about? We’re just friends, like you said—this is purely strategic.” George turns around, picks up his bag, and is about to say the password to enter the common room, but—

“Strategic,” Fred echoes his twin. “Right. So I guess I can go along with my plan, then, slip you both love potions, make sure there’s definitely a change in your feelings toward one another so we know you are truly faking—”

This certainly grabs George’s attention. He can feel his heart thundering in his chest. He turns back toward his twin with narrowed eyes and asks, “What plan?”

“Oh, sorry—forgot to mention,” Fred jokes, careful not to wake any sleeping portraits, “I told the rest of the lot that I’ll be conducting a.. bit of an experiment, if you will—for research, you know. Don’t worry—got the antidote ready to go for when you both, of course, fall madly in love—”

“Fred,” George says through gritted teeth, but lets out a laugh, as well, “I’m not taking a love potion. First of all, those are prototypes for the store, remember? Reckon I’d need to be barking mad in order to take one of those anyway—we know full well how powerful they are.”

Fred’s been ready for George to argue about this. “But I told you, I’ve got the antidote—” Fred’s grinning cheekily at his twin now, he doesn’t even mind getting cut off completely.

“The answer’s no, Fred. You’re out of your bloody mind.”

“What are you so afraid of mate?” Fred laughs and punches George in the arm. “Are you scared that your feelings are going to change?”

George doesn’t want to answer this. He quickly runs a hand through his hair and suddenly seems a bit on edge. He absolutely hates getting cornered like this—he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something sharp lodged in his throat. He opens his mouth to argue, but once again, Fred takes him by surprise.

“Or, I wonder—are you afraid of them not changing at all?”

— -

George hasn’t slept in days. Weeks, maybe. No, that’s being too dramatic—maybe three days, tops. But to him, it certainly feels like a much longer time.

He drags himself, quite reluctantly, toward the dungeons. He’s looking forward even less to the Potions lesson in front of him. He can barely pay attention on a normal day—now, when he’s sleep deprived and running on not much other than caffeine and his own musings, he’s almost certain he’s going to fall asleep just walking there.

Until he spots you, of course, strolling down the other end of the corridor. You see him, too, wave frantically, and bounce your way over to him. Perhaps, he thinks, Potions won’t be so bad after all.

“Hey,” he says brightly, nearly over the moon to see you.. even if it is early in the morning.

“Georgie! I’ve got news,” you say excitedly, poking him in the ribs and wiggling your eyebrows at him. “Guess what I’ve found out?”

George is peering at you, as if in a dreamlike trance. His voice floats through the air between the two of you. “Tell me.”

“It’s about you know who,” you tease, “got herself a boyfriend, she has.”

George suddenly feels very warm. Blimey, it’s hot. He loosens his tie a bit, a hitch in his voice, “Wait, r-really? Where’ve you heard that?”

“Saw them together in the Great Hall—some Slytherin bloke,” you tell him, clutching your spell books tightly in your arms, “she was nearly drooling all over him—reckon her obsession will move to him now, no?” When George doesn’t share the same enthusiasm you do, you prod him with your wand and joke, “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for this girl.”

“Merlin, no,” George answers quite quickly. You watch as his expression changes from sullen to chipper within a matter of milliseconds. “That’s great news! Gets her off my back, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly,” you reply, “and now you don’t have to hang around little old me all the time. Not that I don’t enjoy your company—” you add quickly when George furrows his brows, “I just mean, now you’re able to go after any girl you fancy, not worry about her anymore—”

“Yeah,” a laugh escapes his lips, “yeah.. reckon you’re right! Blimey, have got to tell Fred.. he was starting to get freaked every time she so much as glanced over at us.”

Students begin to walk a bit more speedily, and you both realize the sound of the bell is drawing nearer. You push playfully on his chest and say, “Anyway—wanted to tell you before class! Meet me in the common room before dinner, yeah?” And before he can answer, you flash a toothy smile and turn in the opposite direction, making your way as quickly as you can toward the library.

You want to tell him. You want to tell him that you’d heard him and Fred that night when they’d been discussing love potions and whatever Fred has up his sleeve—you’d gotten caught up in the corridor around the bend, chatting with another student about an assignment, and had heard the entire exchange. You reckoned it was best to just end it now, before things get really messy.

Things seemed to be working in your favor, though. You hadn’t lied. That Ravenclaw did find herself a boyfriend, so, it seems as though the plan you two had formulated had worked, and that’s a good thing—right?

It’s the first time in—weeks, months?—that you and George part ways without a kiss on the cheek, a tight, romantic embrace, and it makes him feel weird. Off balance. He doesn’t like it. Is he really.. missing those times? Doing those things with you? He shakes his head in defiance, begrudgingly making his way toward Potions. Fred’s words ring in his ears. Just friends. Even if he does feel those things, it’s obvious that you don’t, he realizes. You’re nearly bouncing off the walls knowing that this fake relationship is over. So, why doesn’t he feel the same way? Why does he feel so sad?

He swallows thickly before bumping into Fred. They make their way into the classroom, George’s head and heart feeling heavier than they have in weeks.

Little does he know, you’re sitting in the library, staring into space, a piece of blank parchment in front of you, feeling, if not more so, the exact same way.

— -

A few days later, George can finally sit in the Great Hall in peace without ducking behind anyone, crouching down in his seat, or skipping feasts altogether. His prior admirer seems so wrapped up with her new love, that George Weasley might as well not even exist. He feels relief wash over him.

He’s sitting with Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione, but you—you’re nowhere to be found. In fact, he hasn’t seen all that much of you in a few days time. Guess he sort of got used to always having you around. Loads of Herbology assignments, you told him the day before with a cheeky grin, reckon Doubles is catching up with me.

“So Georgie,” Fred says brightly through mouthfuls of potatoes, “reckon we should get back to our regularly scheduled mischief now that our unscheduled hiatus has been lifted, yeah?”

“Oi, Fred, can’t you see that he’s not listening to you?” Ron asks before lifting a hand to slap George right across the face.

“Easy, you two,” Ginny scolds them and grabs Ron before he can do anything. Then she taps her older brother on the shoulder, “Hey, earth to George.”

“What?” George says, finally joining the group, the haze above his head lifting slightly, “oh, erm, sorry.. was—distracted.”

Fred eyes his twin curiously. There’s a tiny bit of sarcasm in his voice, “What’s going on, mate? You’ve been awfully quiet since your little plan wrapped up.” But even in his delirious state, George knows what Fred is trying to do. And he’s so bloody exhausted and tired of fighting everything that he doesn’t even argue. Instead, he takes the group by surprise, and stands up without touching his meal. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done months ago!” he calls as he flies toward the entrance, maneuvering himself between students and professors alike. He’s doing things without fully registering what’s going on, he’s taking steps three at a time, he’s jumping through the portrait hole in a huff, he’s panting heavily with a very confused you in front of him, baffled at his state.

“Hey there,” you say brightly, “you alright?”

When George catches his breath, he takes you by surprise. “‘m doing just fine, love.”

“Love?” you ask teasingly, “you missing what we had, Georgie? Our fake little relationship?”

“It wasn’t fake.”

You shoot him a glance and freeze completely. George is almost certain he can hear the pounding of your heart reverberating off of the common room walls. He’s thankful, now that he’s recognized, the two of you are completely alone. “It—it wasn’t?”

“Of course not.”

You offer a nervous grin, and George knows he’s said the right thing. The tension between the two of you is rising and you ask him jokingly, “This isn’t a love potion talking, is it?” Realization hits him like a ton of bricks and he lets an exasperated laugh escape his lips. Damnit, Fred. He shakes his head no and waits with bated breath for your next words.

“So this,” you say, pointing back and forth very rapidly between the two of you, “it’s..it’s been real this entire time?”

“Of course it’s real, it’s always been real,” George is finding it difficult to breathe correctly now, “hasn’t it been real for you?”

But you realize, as you’re choking back tears, that by saying yes, you’ll only be delaying the inevitable—which is, of course, to kiss him into oblivion. And you’d both waited bloody long enough already, hadn’t you?

So instead of saying anything, you bite back a very large grin before stepping forward and pulling on his tie and pressing your lips to his. He’s not even surprised—if anything, he’s relieved, to finally know what it feels like to have your lips on his after many moments having dreamt about it. Immediately, you want to ask him why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time, but you can’t bring yourself to break from him now that you’re intertwined together. It’s slow and warm, his lips molding perfectly with yours, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, soft moans escaping his lips, the rest of his fingers making their way through your soft hair. It sort of feels as if you’re floating, actually, bouncing delicately from cloud to cloud, high above the trees and the castle. Breaking slightly and pressing his forehead to yours, he says, “So, erm, silly question—but are we—?”

“If you even have to ask if I’m your girlfriend for real now, you’re out of your mind, Weasley.”

George’s head is spinning. He leaves trails of kisses along your cheeks, your neck, and your collarbone, all before finding your lips again, and as they form a smile against his own, he can’t seem to shake the feeling like he’s coming home.

A very amused voice startles you both, making you part at the mere sound of the clearing of a throat. “Alright then, Ron, Ginny, Harry—you all owe me two sickles each. Hermione—cheers again, reckon you did well to agree with me on this one.” And then, when he notices you two watching, Fred says, “Oi—well it’s about bloody time.”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, doing your best to not think about the scarlet color of your face, or the fact that they’d all seen quite possibly the most intimate moment you and George have shared together, “you lot placed bets on us?”

“Sure did,” Fred replies, looking rather pleased with himself as he’s handed his earnings from a very grumpy looking Ron and Harry. He slides the sickles into his pockets and crosses his arms in delight.

As Ginny and Hermione squeal excitedly and wink at you before heading up to the girls dormitory for the evening, George pulls you back into his arms, confidence engulfing him, and says to the others, “If you don’t mind, we were kind of in the middle of something here.”

The tips of Ron’s ears turn extremely pink and he smiles warily. “Guess you didn’t have to use those love Potions after all, Fred,” Harry says.

With a wink at you both before making his way toward the stairs, Fred replies, “Was never going to, actually. Just had to make them think I was. Knew these two would break eventually.”

“Hate to admit it, but you’re kind of brilliant,” Ron says admiringly, but continues to pout when Fred slings an arm around his shoulders and tells him,

“Next time, Ron, just side with your wiser, older brother, yeah?”

You turn back toward George, your arms around his neck. When you make sure the others are finally out of earshot, you say to him, tugging gently on his tie again, “He’s outrageous, he is.”

“Got us together, though, didn’t he?”

“I suppose I’ll give him that one.”

“Oh,” Fred calls from the top of the stairs, “and Y/N? No snogging my brother until the wee hours of the evening, alright? He needs his beauty sleep.”

“Shove off, Freddie,” you call. A cackle of laughter floats down from the boys dormitory, but you find it easy to ignore. What do they know? The two of you have tons of lost time to make up for. You stand on your tippy toes, press your forehead to George’s before he kisses you again. He lets out a soft laugh when you say against his lips, to a Fred who can’t hear you, “Can’t make any promises.”

reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading & requesting x

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins fanction #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagine #hp imagine #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #ron weasley #harry potter #ginny weasley #hermione granger #fake dating tropes

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

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Title: I wish i could forget you

Tony Stark was not supposed to be in the car when Howard and Maria Stark attended a Christmas holiday party for another company. In fact, Hydra had wanted him to stay home.

Unfortunately, Tony had ticked off Howard a bit too much, and so here he was in a tuxedo that was a bit too big, uncomfortably shiny shoes, and a temper that was close to blowing.

Thank god they were almost home.

When a car crashes, one almost can’t believe it. Tony can see the outside blurring, and he can hear glass crunching, and he hears things that he really doesn’t want to hear. He is fairly sure that Maria screamed.

A metal arm.

Huh.

Well, not the most typical. He also doesn’t think that the man knows he’s here.

Howard and Maria Stark are killed. Tony feels like shit because he couldn’t do anything. His forehead is bleeding and he didn’t want to move out of fear for himself, which seems selfish, but also maybe a survival instinct?

God, his bow-tie is still constricting air flow.

Once the man turns, Tony realizes that he wasn’t the target. They probably had no idea he was in the car, whoever “they” were.

He gets out of the car. The car door creaks, and the man whips around.

His eyes widen.

“You--what?”

The voice is surprisingly American.

Surprisingly? He’s not sure why it’s surprising, it’s not like an American can’t kill just look at history, but still, Kind of surprising.

"What, wasn’t supposed to be here?” Tony rasps out. He realizes now that he’s basically sent himself a death sentence as the man surges forward.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes are piercing. Also very, very familiar with some photographs that Peggy has on her mantle and her desk.

James “Bucky” Barnes. Son of a bitch.

“What are you doing alive?” Tony asks. “I thought you were lost in a ravine in Europe somewhere.”

“What--huh?”

“Ravine. In Europe. You know who you are, right? Is this some kind of sick...what did they do to you?”

“I do not know what you are talking about.”

His eyes get cold again.

“Who are you?”

“I am the Asset.”

It is now that Tony realizes that every single shitty sci-fi book is probably right, and his disdain of “wacky science” and “magic” have all been for nothing, because here is Bucky Barnes, who apparently has no idea who he is.

Then Tony gets knocked on his ass. His body slams against the icy road, and Barnes is rushing towards a motorcycle.

And he’s alone. He can’t breathe, all the wind knocked out of his chest. He thinks he broke a couple of ribs.

No one believes him. At all. SHIELD brushes it aside.

“There’s no way Barnes could be alive. You were probably just seeing things,” they tell him. “Would you like us to find you a therapist?”

“No,” Tony says, and they ask why. He laughs, sipping on his water. “SHIELD has so much loyalty to itself, I’m afraid I’d be compromised.”

“Therapists aren’t supposed to divulge any information,” Nick Fury adds carefully. “And we’re a secret-keeping bunch. Nothing goes out that comes in.”

“Unless, of course, it’s necessary,” Tony drawls, staring at Fury. God, the leather outfit...that’s weird. “Then I’m out in the open, Nicky. And what fun is that unless I get to show off an outfit in full-coverage?”

“...I’ll have an agent escort you home. We’ll have guards overnight.”

“Don’t bother.”

“And why is that? Think you can handle it by yourself?”

“Fury, my family has made a career out of thinking a lot of things. You’re not being as detrimental as you think.”

He finger-waves, grinning and winking at agents on the way out.

Now comes paranoia. This is welcome, actually, because it’s allowing him to work up new security measures and hack into various security cameras around the world to see if he can find Barnes.

It’s like he’s a ghost. And fuck, maybe Fury was right. Tony doesn’t like that, but that may be it.

Merry fucking Christmas.

Years go by, and Tony keeps a tiny ear to any news about mysterious deaths that can’t be explained. A man that glows in lamp-light, has no identity. He’s not sure if it could be Barnes. God knows he’s no longer seventeen, and Barnes--it if it was Barnes--would be way older. He should’ve been an old man in 1991, but he wasn’t.

It kind of reminds him of the conspiracy theory that Walt Disney was kept cryogenically frozen, which is just ridiculous, because as far as he’s concerned, you’d need a bit more to you than just regular skin and bones.

And this is where it hits him.

Barnes was experimented on when he was captured by Hydra. Peggy told him that Rogers told her that he was repeating his dog tag number over and over, as if someone was trying to take him over.

Yeah, you’d need a bit more.

Like a fucking super soldier serum.

This then delves into Tony realizing that if Barnes is flash-frozen, then...well, could Rogers have survived? He always thought his dad was crazy, but a broken clock is right twice a week or however the hell that saying goes. He never used it, he wasn’t a broken clock.

(He was broken, but he’s not going to compare himself to a clock. Perhaps Model-T.)

They find Rogers. Tony realizes Howard did his math completely wrong for years, and probably never let anyone look at it because he was a World Super Genius. And a Colossal Dick.

Steve Rogers is one tough cookie to crack. Tony chips off some of the ice and puts it in a glass of scotch.

“Do you really think that’s the most appropriate thing to do?” Phil Coulson asks.

He’s shocked, but mainly because Tony has seen his Cap collection, and that man has so many limited edition cards and lunchboxes that it’s a bit crazy. But at least he knows how to decorate with it and not have it look like an absolute nutjob swept into his house and did it all in red-white-and-blue.

“Phil, my darling, when have I ever done anything the appropriate way?” Tony asks. He stares at the face that’s emerging out of the ice. “Besides, what else are you going to do with this ice, hm? Besides melt it all off?”

Steve is a miracle. Every scientist on earth wants to poke and prod at him.

Tony breaks him out of SHIELD in a week, because he swears to shit if one more scientist asks to take blood samples “to see how going under Arctic temperatures affects the bloodstream” (and also take DNA for cloning) he’s going to lose it.

Fury yells at him for two hours.

Steve flips Fury off from the couch, where he’s been channel-surfing for the better part of three hours.

“You’ve already corrupted him,” Fury scowls. “Rogers, we need to talk--”

“He’s retired,” Tony says.

(Steve is not, technically. Hasn’t said anything. But Tony is putting him on mandatory retirement for at least a year.)

“What’s...what the ever-loving fuck is that?” Steve asks.

An infomercial. For an automated chair. Mostly used for old people.

Tony grins.

“You wanna see how fast I can launch you out of one?”

“I’m going to say yes. Professionally.”

Ten miles an hour, and Steve goes flying across the room into a pile of pillows.

It’s not the end-all solution. God knows Steve calls him “Howard” and asks where a lot of nasty food is, and sometimes can’t tell the difference between what his brain is seeing and what is actually there.

But Tony gets him help. And Steve goes to art school.

It’s all very funny, actually. Steve rants about “modern art” and how “if he could kill any concept it would be abstract expressionism, what the fuck.”

Tony buys and then donates a Rothko in his honor.

Steve fumes, but finds it hilarious.

Then, there’s the attack on New York.

Norse god of mischief decides to end New York, blah blah blah.

Captain America reappears, everyone loses their shit, and Tony almost dies.

Then he gets four other roomies besides Steve, and he has to make a chore chart. Ugh.

Barnes reappears in France. Tony gets a fairly good image, and Natasha stills.

“You know about Winter Soldier?”

“Barnes? Yeah.”

“You know who he is?”

“James Barnes. At least, I think. He tried to kill me, wasn’t very successful at it.”

Steve overhears.

This leads to a chain of events that ends in Steve not coming to family dinner because he’d rather sit in his room and listen to Green Day or Glenn Miller or whatever the hell gets him even more upset.

“Listen, Steve, I’m sorry. But up until this picture? I was only about sixty percent sure I wasn’t full of beans.”

“Why is that the phrase you use?”

“What, full of beans? Bruce says I have to work on my cursing. Apparently, children are impressionable. Who knew?”

It’s not a total success. Steve still doesn’t like that Tony didn’t outright tell him, but Tony isn’t going to tell Steve that he has the mental stability of a single cashew.

So begins the hunt for Barnes. Which actually isn’t too bad.

He’s in DC. Not for any political clean-up, unfortunately. He’s trying to kill Fury. Tony doesn’t know why, at least until he looks up Pierce, who’s technically, mostly retired from SHIELD.

And yet still uses most resources that technically? He needs more than one authorization from multiple people.

God, people are getting bad at covering their tracks. Used to be harder to catch and see if someone was doing dirty deals.

(Okay, not like he can talk because Obie was...well, no use in discussing that now. He needs to focus.)

Nat and Steve are bad at lying. This kind of surprises him, because Steve is usually a successful liar. He’s convinced Clint that it’s not him who keeps eating his peanut-butter-fudge ice cream, but Thor.

And Natasha used to be Natalie Rushman. Then again, Tony was poisoned during that one, so that might just be on him.

Helicarriers go in the water.

Tony’s working on making sure most of the information doesn’t reach the general public, although he can’t stop it all.

Barnes falls off the face of the earth, and Steve wants to go on another treasure hunt.

“Let him come to us, or figure himself out.”

“This isn’t a college kid going backpacking in Europe for a year,” Nat snaps. “He’s...you know who he is, who he was, and what he can do.”

“Counterpoint: we don’t know if he secretly really wanted to see traditional decoration of Ukrainian Easter eggs,” Tony says. “God knows that I want to learn more about that.”

“Is everything a joke to you?”

"Only on federally mandated holidays,” Tony says with a shrug. “But let him be. Steve, it’s one thing that he didn’t kill you. It’s another thing that he hauled you up from the Potomac. I’m not sure I would’ve done that because who goes up alone to a helicarrier?”

“Historically nobody,” Natasha says. “Most people don’t have any helicarriers.”

“God, this situation sucks,” Tony says. “What if. We potentially. Ignore all of it and have spinach and artichoke dip? Hm?”

“With toasted bread?”

“I’m not an animal, Steve.”

“Your penchant for four a.m. coffee while you don’t realize you’re singing songs from the seventies says otherwise,” he responds.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the punishment of you getting the aux taken away for a week,” Tony taunts.

“Oh, come on!” Steve whines.

“Nope, just you having to listen to more of Bruce’s questionable tastes.”

“Fuck.”

Barnes comes stateside. The only reason Tony knows this is because Jarvis says that he may have spotted Barnes, but he’s not sure.

“J, you’re the most advanced system in the world, not to mention my son, and you like to hack into the Pentagon for funsies.”

“All of that could not have prepared me for this.”

Barnes is wearing a neon green tank top that is advertising Coco Beach in Florida.

“Can I laugh? Or is that sad?”

“Multitask, Sir.”

“Oh, true.”

Barnes is not in New York. Tony has to near-about put an electric fence around the whole state so that Steve doesn’t go on a road trip.

Hell, Tony doesn’t even trust him to go to coffee alone, but that’s a bit much.

“We have to wait,” Tony says.

Sam Wilson is a godsend. Also the funniest man Tony knows.

He is also emotionally healthy and very perceptive, so he has been noticing that Tony is nervous.

Because how do you face the man who killed your parents? Technically?

“Are you talking to your therapist?” Sam asks. “Just thinking you should.”

“Sam, we’re working on my issues from 2007. Believe it or not, it will be taking a full year.”

“I don’t like that I can never tell if you’re serious.”

“I know you remember the tabloids from 2007, I wrote a mesh vest. Clearly, I need so much help.”

Sam snorts.

“Maybe. Hey, I’ll catch you later. Clint and I are gonna go try and find some questionable shirts to crop.”

“Did his little protege convince you? Bishop, right?”

“Kate, yeah. She’s convinced our public image will go viral or something. Good luck with helping Steve and Nat with your super-soldier hunt.”

“Thanks. Let me know if you find a shirt with my face on it. I want it.”

Sam snorts.

“Will do.”

Bucky Barnes comes to New York in early May. The springtime is slowly but surely fading off, sun approaching more and more. Tony is enjoying coffee on a veranda, and then suddenly his waiter is nowhere to be found and he’s not entirely sure if his visitor takes credit or debit.

“Can I help you?”

“Maybe. Depends on if you’re gonna kill me or not.”

“I think Steve would be a bit broken up about it.”

“Do you care what he thinks?”

“On this situation? Yes. When it comes to culinary choices? No.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. Tony’s trying extremely hard not to remember shattered glass and a motorcycle on ice.

“Can we, uh, table this conversation? For later. Espresso and all that, plus the added bonus of our shared history, so...”

“Shared history?”

“You don’t remember?” Tony asks. Bucky shakes his head. “Ah. Then this is truly a comedy of errors. Maybe. Um. Listen, I, uh...I gotta go. You need to talk to Nat or Steve or hell, maybe even Thor. Is Thor a good option?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Barnes, I can’t exactly face you right now.”

And then he jumps off a balcony.

A fucking balcony.

Jesus H. Christ, his therapist is gonna be so excited for their next session.

The suit wraps itself around him, and he can finally breathe, and he’s thinking about calling Pepper and see if she would like to schedule him a vacation for maybe anywhere but New York and Iowa.

“Why not Iowa?” Pepper asks. “They have good antique stores. I’ve gotten quite a few good finds for clothes.”

“I can do shopping retail literally anywhere else, absolutely not.”

“Spoilsport. Steve know you’re leaving?”

“I didn’t even really tell Steve what happened with my parents.”

“Oh, your therapist called. She sounded concerned, but also intrigued.”

“It’s because Sally almost became an employee of NASA and still has a soft spot for aerodynamics.”

“What exactly did you do when faced with Barnes?”

“Check the front tabloid page tomorrow, just tell everyone I’m out of town.”

“Got it. And Tony?”

Her voice is soft.

“Yes, dear?”

He can feel her rolling her eyes. Affectionately, of course, but rolling all the same.

“Be safe, and come back. You know Rhodey and I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

A week is spent in Malibu. He really is thinking about selling this place. But for now, it suffices.

Steve texts him.

bucky’s back. holy shit

be back in a week. radio silence.

got it. no more messages from me. thor tells me to tell you that he broke the sink

:((((

And that’s it. He’s sitting in the house for a week, has already called Sally once and explained how his suit works, and then listened to her talk about how “his reliance on the suit to help him escape unfavorable situations is not exactly the healthiest but also none of my clients have had to face someone who is of weird standing.”

It’s no secret that Tony doesn’t like Howard Stark. Who would’ve liked that sorry excuse for a father, a man who was so cold-hearted the Arctic looked like a tropical paradise?

Maria was...Maria was different.

She wasn’t a good mother. No, she was never a good mother. But she tried, and she didn’t deserve her fate.

And then there was the question of Bucky Barnes. Who wasn’t Bucky when he was there, but still so damn recognizable.

It’s kind of like when there’s a movie about a famous person, and another person plays them. Like Tom Hanks, essentially. Bucky played whoever the fuck they get Tom Hanks to play and it’s similar: you see the resemblance, but it’s not it.

So yeah.

There’s also the little tidbit that things get complicated when you involve personal feelings and rationality, and really? Tony misses New York. A lot. And he’s not going to let someone else overtake his life just because he’s uncomfortable.

So he flies back to New York.

He’s in a bad way, Barnes is.

“He remembered you,” Steve says. “What he did.”

“Ah, there’s that.”

“He doesn’t have to be here,” Natasha says. “I have a couple of SHIELD safe houses to choose from.”

“None would be adequate to house something like me,” comes the response.

Barnes looks remarkably shitty, as if he hasn’t slept in eighty years. And maybe he hasn’t.

“Jail would be more fitting.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“You are literally the most dramatic person ever, and Bruce threatened to take over the government because Thor ate the last croissant. Put those on the grocery list, Steve

“We’re not gonna throw you in jail,” he continues on. “Not because you happened to be used as a goddamned Swiss army knife. I have issues, sure, but I’m not going to be going all Hannibal Lecter or whatever.”

“Who the hell is that?”

“Cannibal. I realized that that’s a terrible comparison, please forgive me.”

“Why a cannibal?”

“Couldn’t think of anything else but Anthony Hopkins, the actor. My mistake. Point is, we’re gonna have to go through some channels, and I’m introducing you to BARF, as well as a new person who’s gonna rock your world.”

“I’m pretty much well-acquainted with vomit.”

“No, not that,” Tony says. “Although we can cover that through my 2005 edition of partying if we really wanna dig up some old magazine interviews. No, I’m introducing you to something that’s going to change your life.”

After that, Tony doesn’t have much to do with Bucky’s life.

He serves as a permanent guilt trip, nothing says “well, shit” much like being a permanent guilt trip.

Sally tells him that they should talk it out. Do all that “and how do you feel?” questioning that makes his skin crawl and his eyes ascend to the ceiling.

I mean yeah, they share a living space. Tony has seen Bucky laugh and smile with Sam, talk with Bruce about a really interesting article about regeneration of plant cells or whatever, and Bucky enjoys videochatting with Wakandan royalty.

(It also helps that Shuri is blunt as ever, but so blisteringly smart. He’s reading her paper on regeneration of nanotechnology, and it just...it’s the Pieta of research, that paper.)

But he never speaks to Bucky. Well, he does. But it’s more along the lines of “hey Barnes” and “how are you?” which aren’t exactly the Most Thought Provoking Statements Ever Made.

Summer comes swiftly, and about near with a vengeance. Tony’s dealing with a heat wave and trying to figure out if going outside is even worth it, and then he and Bucky are alone in the kitchen.

Tony was debating getting a couple of popsicles from the freezer. Bucky is considering sabotaging Clint’s smoothie that was supposed to be special for tonight, but that he’ll most likely forget.

“Hey,” Bucky says. “Um, can we talk?”

Shit.

He’s been avoiding this, officially, for a month. Potentially more if you’re going to count a few choice events that have been brought up by his psyche.

“Sure thing, buttercup. What are we talking about. Economy, world crises, the great debate on financial advice?”

“Isn’t the third thing just the economy?”

“We can break it down over coffee.”

“Mm, maybe another time. No, I’m talking about us. About how I--I kind of ruined your life.”

Tony blinks.

“You didn’t ruin my life. If my life was ruined you’d be hit with so many lawsuits that I could make the rest of your life look like the third circle of Hell, or wherever it is that people go nowadays in Dante’s eyes. No, you didn’t ruin my life.”

“I still killed your parents.”

“If you hadn’t, someone else would’ve. Believe me, there were about fifteen others in line. Sometimes, myself included.”

“You can’t not take me seriously,” Bucky stresses. “I still did a terrible thing. I just want to make sure you know that you’re being too kind.”

“I most certainly am not,” Tony says. “Being too kind would have me feeding you grapes.”

Bucky’s face blanks.

“Don’t. I...I don’t wanna take advantage of your hospitality. I don’t want to remind you of what happened.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t wanted,” Tony says. “Believe me. And if you want to leave, you’re free to leave. I don’t want to make you feel like you need to stay here.”

“I...I want to make it up to you.”

“Then use BARF and review it,” Tony says. “I’m serious. I need user feedback, and you’re the best candidate for it. Also, please try to convince Steve to wear neon yellow. I just want to see if he’ll do it.”

Steve wears neon yellow. Tony laughs so hard he cries.

Bucky smiles.

It’s a nice smile, really. It’s wide and happy and wow. That’s all worth it.

And then BARF. Bucky just gives user feedback, nothing else. Tony doesn’t want to know anything else, but they start talking more.

Tony finds out that Bucky’s been doing crosswords to catch up on current events, and he’s bought taped recordings of World Series games.

He loves antique stores. He visits them and brings home little trinkets that he remembers in his own house, or what he remembered. He watched old commercials from the fifties and sixties, laughed as he remembered the Sears catalogs that would come in the mail.

“Me an’ my sisters would beg my mom for new clothes from the catalog, and she never would. Always sewed our pants and skirts so damn well, I probably could’ve used them for the next ten years.”

Tony laughs.

“Well, I can’t promise I can sew. But I could give you some armor that could last you twenty years, if you want. Steve told me you’re thinking about doing some distance missions.”

“Just observation, no armor required.”

“Sometimes it’s the simple missions that get the worst hits,” Tony says. “Believe me, I know how it goes. So, do you want some armor?”

Bucky smiles.

“Sure.”

“I’ll need feedback.”

“I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

Bucky is a goddamned dream to design for. He knows exactly what he needs, what areas are most likely to be pierced, and also has a flair for the dramatic: he requests an Iron Man helmet be embroidered on the back.

“You’re really just trying to be sweet on me, aren’t you?” Tony teases.

“My master plan to gain your fortune,” Bucky teases right back. “I’ll waste it all on champagne pools and the worst-looking but most expensive shoes I can find.”

Tony laughs.

“Sugar, that’d be incredible if you could spend all of my money on that. I’d commend you.”

Bucky smiles, and it shouldn’t be as nice of a smile as it is, but here Tony is with his opinions and his concerning thought that maybe he wants to see more of Bucky.

In the morning, there begins a routine. Tony is always up at eight o’clock. It’s a rare lull in Avenger-morning-routines: Nat, Steve, and Bruce are all done, and Thor and Clint won’t be in until ten o’clock at the earliest.

(What can he say? Thor’s a god and Clint...well. He needs a lot of beauty sleep.)

Tony makes coffee, and Bucky makes them both breakfast. Says that officially, it’s to test and make sure that his prosthetic is still performing under optimal conditions.

(They both know that’s not it.)

Tony always says he pours too much water, makes enough for two cups.

Steve calls them out on it.

“You two are being weird,” he says. “And not like Thor and Bruce trying to reenact that one show about ghosts and unsolved things.”

“That’s their form of courtship, don’t be fucking rude,” Clint remarks. Natasha snorts.

“What, us being weird?” Tony asks, pouring a bit more coffee into Bucky’s mug. He always uses too much creamer and then won’t finish his coffee unless there’s more. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s because you both do couple shit,” Bruce says, breezing into the kitchen. “Also, Steve, lovely to see that you have volunteered to be the next guest on Avengers: Unsolved. We’re planning on using you as a guilt-trip in order to access files about aliens.”

“Truth will be found!” Thor adds. “But also, yes. Bucky, I thought you were taking him on a date to the art museum on Saturday.”

Bucky turns red. So does Tony. It really is quite inconvenient.

“I mean, we could go on a date there,” Tony says. “If you’re okay with that.”

“You’re doing this in public?” Natasha asks, eyebrows raised. “Hm. Would not have called that.”

“You owe me fifteen dollars,” Bucky says. “Not you Tony, quit looking at me like that. Yes, it will be a date on Saturday, I’ll wear a nice shirt. Nat said that I couldn’t do anything that surprised her.”

“Technically, Tony surprised me.”

“I thought dates were mutual events, hm? Fifteen dollars. I’ll use it to buy the best bouquet in New York.”

“The best bouquet costs over a thousand dollars,” Thor answers.

“Not questioning how you know that, but I’m scared of you,” Bucky says. “Then I will get the best fifteen-dollar-bouquet in New York.”

Tony snorts, smiling.

“I guess I’ll spray a bit of my perfume on my pillow then, soldier.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon sharp,” Bucky says, grinning. He finishes his coffee. “We’ll make fun of Steve’s art exhibit together.”

#lovelyirony writes #holy shit this was longer than expected #thank you to angel for this inspiration #winteriron #avengers as a family #personally i like the fact that thor and bruce are doing avengers unsolved and have to force different avengers on #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor #bucky barnes #tony stark #howard stark #maria stark #sally the therapist

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