#but he keeps getting reborn and like it’s fine when he’s quiet but every time he makes a noise you just HAVE to kill him again
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danandfuckingjonlmao · 2 months ago
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good night and sweet dreams to the best, sexiest, sluttiest, smartest, realest, most based, valid, relatable, girlipop, sympathetic, cunt, fun, cool, feminist, aspirational girlboss character in dead boy detectives: doll spider <3
good night to her and no one else. i hope the rest of y’all have a bad night and terrible dreams.
#doll spider did nothing wrong ever#i will defend her every action in a court of law#‘she tore edwin apart millions upon millions of times in hell’ wouldn’t you?#some gay nerd shows up in your house saying shit like ‘oh my how filthy this establishment reflects very poorly on the host’#he’s sashaying and sauntering down your halls and pivoting and you’re like ‘hang on i’m supposed to be the cuntiest bitch here’#so yeah you tear him apart like WHATEVER this shit happens#but he keeps getting reborn and like it’s fine when he’s quiet but every time he makes a noise you just HAVE to kill him again#i bet she was so happy when he escaped and SO MAD when he came back#and then the whole payneland in hell scene she was so real#she interrupted whatever gay shit charles was gonna say to edwin after ‘mate i’ve-’ bc she knew it would be disgusting & didnt wanna hear it#and then they HAD to just KEEP BEING GAY ON THE STAIRS LIKE OF COURSE SHE CHASED THEM OUT?? THAT ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE LINE WAS UNACCEPTABLE#SHE WAS LIKE GET THESE F*GS OUT OF MY HOUSE#she did what she had to do to set boundaries and honestly is that so bad?#thank you doll spider for protecting us from more devastatingly romantic charles rowland lines <3#dbdshow#girlbossifying doll spider is so funny to me idc if no one sees this. this is for me. and for her <3#payneland#edwin payne#save dead boy detectives#renew dead boy detectives#yeet my deet#yeet my deebd#dbd4ratch#revive dead boy detectives#chedwin#the case of the very long stairway#dead boy detectives#dbda#dead boy detective agency
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game-weaver · 2 years ago
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captivatedbyaibou​:
 Atemu smiled as he opened the door and held it open for Yugi to enter ahead of him. It was a relief to know that Yugi too wanted to get to know him, regardless if he was this other Atemu reborn or not. He had a feeling that regardless of the outcome that evening, they’d get along just fine and grow close. At least he hoped so as he also entered the museum, letting door swing shut behind them.
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 “I assure you, its not from a sense of obligation that makes me want to know you,” he answered softly. Only after he’d said it, did he realize how what he’d said could come across. “Its more a feeling like.. I couldn’t handle it if we part ways and never see each other again. It hurts my heart to think about.”
 Which would have had him worried that he’d said too much if it was anyone else. But he had a feeling that Yugi would know what he meant. So he wasn’t worried as his head turned and he moved further into the building, his legs guiding him as if he already knew where to go.
 It didn’t take long for him to start seeing display cases with ancient tools and weapons, still others had old jewelry and figurines. None of them so far had any impact on him, but still he walked until he came across sarcophagi. That was when he stopped and felt a pang in his chest from sadness. Great Kings and Queens taken from their burial place where they were laid to rest to be gawked at by the public.
 He of course knew it was so that people could see history better and learn of the ancient past. But even so, the beliefs of the ancient world was that the kings and queens should never again be disturbed once laid to rest. Their treasures too were meant to be untouched so that they would remain secure in their eternal paradise.
 Now with the possibility of being reborn from an ancient Pharaoh, Atemu had to wonder if those ancient beliefs were true. He couldn’t do anything about it now even if it was.. Not for the moment anyway.. So he continued on his way, but kept his head down in respect as he passed each sarcophagi.
 That feeling though.. Had that been all him, or had some of it been that other Atemu too..?
 “The um..” he paused to clear his throat when he felt a knot forming there. “The stone slabs.. They’re just ahead right..?” he asked, realizing only then that he’d been quiet for some time.
Yugi followed closely, his expression softening at his words. He truly wanted to keep seeing him and not out of some kind of obligation? He...Honestly would love that. Even if it meant starting completely over, the selfish part of himself really wanted to keep him close, to soothe the ache he had felt for so long.
But he followed, looking around at the displays and sighing to himself. It had been a long while since he had visited the museum, it stung too much in the beginning and then it just felt like he was clinging to something he shouldn't. Yet here he was again, and...In a way, similar to before. Except it wasn't a spirit with no memories, it was a man wanting answers.
"Ah...Yes, yes they are." He said, jumping a little when he spoke, he also hadn't realized they were just walking in silence and his heart stuttered a little. How would he react to seeing the stone slabs? It could go in many different directions honestly and Yugi tried to prepare himself for any of them.
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He did notice the pause though and looked at him.
Quietly he reached out and took his hand, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm here with you every step of the way, okay?" He said, voice gentle. He meant it, not out of hope that he was the same man, but because he did truly see how confused he was, wanting answers just as much as the spirit did back then.
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ethereal-kloud · 3 years ago
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what if: tsuna meets literally all the arcobaleno other than reborn before canon?
let’s say, skull got slightly tired of doing Carcassa family missions, and went to japan. maybe to watch a godzilla movie, or maybe just to drift (because no matter what, he’s still a cloud) and comes across a tiny tsuna. perhaps in namimori, but maybe nana won a trip somewhere else in japan and they met there.
in the end, they meet somewhere and hey, skull might be the weakest arcobaleno, but he’s not useless. he’s loud and seeks attention, but he’s also abnormally resistant to dying— he didn’t get that immortal title from nowhere, after all.
and, well, maybe tsuna reminds him a little of himself, especially with his last name (seriously? vongola cant even give them a fake last name? or take the girl’s?) and obvious cluelessness about all things mafia.
and if being in the mafia and around the arcobaleno have taught him anything, you can’t just leave if your involved, and bloodline and flame type is everything. this tiny boy, clumsy and still struggling to be kind, will almost definitely be dragged into the blood that is mafia, and skull can’t— isn’t enough to hide them away if he could convince them in the first place
but skull knows, that if he had a clue of the mafia before he was cursed, it would’ve made things a hell of a lot simpler and easier to adjust if someone had told him what was going on before or even just during the beginning.
but he also knows that the kid is ten at most, probably only actually around seven, and that’s not really a thing you tell a child.
but they stay in contact, because nana is oblivious like that, and tsuna's young enough (~6/7) that being friends with an oddly mature (if hyper at times) baby is okay in his mind. he's young enough that he's just grateful for a friend who doesn't call him "dame"
and so, sporadically, skull will pop by to namimori, japan and visit tsuna, not quite telling him about the mafia, but showing that something is off.
and then fon's next, maybe visiting kyōya from afar (because like 9 years old or not, that's a cloud and he's 'trespassing'), when his pacifier lights up and he's curious enough to go see which arcobaleno is visiting the quiet namimori town, and is surprised to find skull, calmer than he's ever shown the rest of them with a small boy
and fon's nicer to skull than the rest of the arcobaleno ever were, probably even admonishing the rest for bullying him every once in a while, and so they quietly talk when tsuna's gone to bed after telling the story he was reluctant to tell, of an absent father,
skull and fon talk about telling him the mafia later, because he's only 8.
not yet.
and everything is fine, for a while, now two arcobaleno dropping by to visit a kid who was so happy for just one normal interaction
but the viper shows up, because viper is nosy (comes with being an information gatherer) and something that's interesting enough to have two arcobaleno regularly meeting up (even if it was just skull and fon, when none of them ever did after the curse?) now that's something they need to know.
and they take a flight to japan, easily finding the two of them talking with a young, normal-looking boy, but. someone who can keep the attention of two of the mafia world's greatest has to be someone special, someone important, right?
(kind of, sort of, not really, all at once. eventually, they figure out that it's not really the point, but for now...)
they poke around, snarky and infinitely curious, and find out about tsuna's blood, and how ignorant he is, and well the varia might be paying them, but they're not paying for this information, and it'll be great blackmail
(they never do use it as blackmail)
they do get the story, in bits and pieces, from fon and skull and even some from tsuna himself
and well, later, when they've visiting again, the mafia gets out. because viper is good at information and keeping it, but they've also grown up around mafia and not civilians, and while skull is better at keeping a normal amount of energy, he does get hyper and can't stop things from being blurted out at times, and fon's simply not there, out on a mission or something
and so viper comments on something mafia, and tsuna's in hearing range, and now damage control has to be done, he's only 10, but that's better than 6 or 8 or 9, and they can't take it back.
they do convince tsuna to wait until fon's back to explain everything (giving him the basics [yes they're mafia, no they're not going to hurt him, yeah there's more they're not telling him but they will])
fon's back, explanations (oh dad's still alive???) and tsuna's wary for a bit because mafia, but they're also the first people to treat him normally and he softens just as quickly.
now that the mafia conversation's out of the way, they take him to mafia land on a trip, a 'just in case' type trip where he can still have fun in the civilian sections
and sure, viper has those nets that hide the glowing, but they haven't quite perfected the mist technique that hides the fact that they're an arcobaleno just yet, and colonnello is good at his job, and pops by to see what brought 3 arcobaleno to mafia land together
and then he meets tsuna, who's civilian enough, but has enough traits from the three of them that he fits in well enough with mafia, and they get along pretty well, once tsuna gets over the guns and his normal reaction to them
and, well, collonnello still loves lal, and would like to keep nothing from her, and calls and casually talks about this cool kid he met that skull, fon, and viper were all fond of, and while lal shouts at him for interrupting her job, she is kind of curious, and eventually takes a leave from CEDEF to see, and hey wait a minute
that's iemitsu's son, except tsuna acts nothing like his father that lal can forget that fact for the most part, and she can see why those four idiots spend time with him, even if he's just 11. and lal thinks about telling her boss, which is definitely what she's supposed to do, right? but thinks of fon telling her that tsuna thought his dad was dead and the fact that he's kept his family uninformed, and decides that he's still civilian, for all that like half of the arcobaleno are around him
and she's not required to report about random civilians she meets, especially not while she's on break
aria, still the sky arcobaleno at this point, not yet pregnant with yuni, saw all of this beforehand, and decides that hey, this boy sky has met almost all of them, why not complete the set before nono condemns this child to a life of blood if he can't change it in the end?
and so, aria, using the giglio nero resources and her foresight, she drops by verde's lab, and tells him there's something interesting he might want to check out, and even if he protests she drags him out anyway and books a flight to japan, when she saw that all the rest would've been there
and now tsuna's verde's-- not quite experiment (something fonder, in the days he spends there) where he is informed of the seal (not tsuna) and thinks of a way to break it without breaking tsuna in the process
tsuna's just so happy to have be surrounded by people who don't blame him, when at 6 he never could think very far.
and verde doesn't quite get there in the two years that he knew tsuna, but he does get close and maybe gets to use it on some other unfortunate sealed person
and then reborn arrives, last, and is maybe thrown a bit when tsuna doesn't comment on the mafia, only screams a little at being threatened to be shot, and asks actual good questions about what his responsibilities are now as a presumed heir of a central mafia famiglia
tsuna's seal breaks from being shot, verde gets notified by some (willingly put there) health checking machine thing, he informs the rest, and then they crash the party, in which reborn finally realizes that tsuna has been aware for a while, and maybe plans to hand vongola to xanxus (who's still alive, apparently) for a few years or forever, depending
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husbandohunter · 4 years ago
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Boys over flowers [Genshin Impact/Various x Reader] Part 2
Not everything had to be about fighting. Ahem Childe.
Genre: fluff, angst(?)
Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Xiao
{Zhongli}
Out of all the bountiful possessions in the land he carved with his very own hands, the glaze lily had always been his favourite.
This flower was a nostalgia stained with time. As much as he loved them, the love he felt was more of a bittersweet sadness if anything. The loss of a friend, his mentor, someone he cherished so deeply, all of it was held into a single glaze lily.
Once as Morax, now as ordinary Zhongli, in those 6000 years he had seen it all. Even his grief for Guizhong faded into a memory.
Sometimes Zhongli felt like he was reading from a story book. Detatched while staring through an omniscient standpoint. It seems that his infinite years brought both experience and lonliness along the way.
"Zhongli? What are you staring at?"
But not when he was with you.
The glaze lily went on many journeys when he met you
He remembers the first encounter on a sunset night just as the petals  were about to bloom. You were there, crouched down, staring into his golden eyes.
“This is for you! Not many can be fully matured like this so make sure to take good care of it,” You held it out to him and he takes the stem out of your hold.
“A parting gift, I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Zhongli sees it as a sign of a new contract, “It seems you possess a good eye when you were selecting them.”
He remembers the bouquet you presented during his birthday, the garland you placed on his head when he was reading, the vase by his desk always filled to the brim whenever you’d pay a visit to his parlour.
He remembers how the blue petals scattered across the floor the day you two married, everywhere he went so did this flower. Everytime he saw this flower, he thought of you.
Was it okay to feel like this? No one can ever replace Guizhong, was it okay to love again even when this being was much more perishable than she was? Zhongli was use to the experience of tragedy and loss as it was part of life.
Ah, so this must be what it feels like to live like a mortal.
To cherish every passing moment knowing that it won’t last forever. He will embrace it to the end. 
Old memories that were once dust rose from the soil, now reborn into a new beginning. Your curious gaze leans closer to his profile, sitting side-by-side under the blankets of your shared bed, the corners of his lips lift into a small smile.
“I’m only reminiscing, my dear. You don’t need to worry for me.” He kisses your forehead and tucked you to bed. The candle now blown out as his arms wrapped around your waist while spooning from behind.
Zhongli closed his eyes, knowing if he dreamt of a garden full of glaze lilies, there will be no sadness behind it.
{Childe}
Mother fucker would try to turn this into a sparring session.
This is why you NEVER invite Childe. If the valley were the air nomads, Childe was the fire nation. He’d stomp his muddy shoes in front of you just to get your attention simply because he knows it will piss you off.
An angry s/o means a potential fight. Win win situation.
Thus, no one blamed you for giving him a cold shoulder after that.
“Aha, looks like I went a little too far, didn’t I? Alright alright, I’ll stop trampling on your flowers from now on, you have my word. So talk to me, okay? Please?”
Alas you spare him a glance, “Make that a pinky promise.”
He didn’t know you were so serious about gardening. The Feiyun commerce guild took greate pride in cultivating the finest silk flowers in all of Teyvat and you being from that guild held up that legacy. Even if Childe tries to buy back the ones he stepped on, nothing could match the quality of your work.
Needless to say, your little hobby became a normal thing, Childe was very chaotic in nature so something more calm was nice to mediate that attitude. You taught him how to water plants, place the fertilizer and knowing which ones to pick.
But let’s be real, florist Childe isn’t that far-fetched because he is 10/10 waifu material.
Then Teucer comes in and tags along. He wanted to take some silk flowers back to Tonia until Childe informed him they’ll wilt on their way to Snezhnaya. 
“Aww, that’s too bad,” he would say while pouting, “Then I’ll give them to you big sister (Y/n)!”
“How sweet, you’ll be quite the charmer when you’re all grown up, Teucer. Maybe even better than your big brother.”
“Come on now, babe. You know that’s impossible.”
You twirled the silk flower right under your nose, the playful tone never leaving your voice, “Oh really? You and Teucer both share the same genes so yes, it is a possibility.”
An amusing glint dances in the ocean of his gaze as he gleefully remarks, “Well if you put it that way, I think Teucer would be at a very big disadvantage.”
“What do you-”
Before you could finish, Childe covers Teucer’s eyes and leans over to steal a sinful kiss, sliding his tongue inside. He purposely brushed his lips over yours after parting, completely satisfied by your flustered expression.
I love this bastard
{Xiao}
Hip hip hooray for having both Qiqi and Xiao in your party. Must be fun collecting their ascension materials.
“Adeptus Xiao!”
Your dumbass fell off the high cliff while obtaining the violet grass, Xiao yeets in from nowhere and caught you from death’s clutches.
Shall I mention that this had happened TWICE already?
Xiao carries you to safety and gently settles you down to your feet. He shot you the sharpest and most deadpan look he could muster because actions speak louder that words, he was trying to make a point.
You gave him a weary smile as the violetgrass batch limps in your hands along with the qingxins.
“I can hardly fathom how utterly stupid and moronic you can actually be. What did you think would happen when you tried to pull off that stunt? That you’d suddenly grow wings and be able to fly?”
His harsh words put you back into your place like a scolded child, “I’m sorry...I just wanted to help...”
Mah man does not watch what he says and always end up guilty. Your kicked puppy look is really going to be the death of him. He means well, just harsh when it comes to your well-being.
“Fine, give me those. I’ll take care of it.” He wouldn’t allow you to retort, he just took them from your hands and left without a word.
Let’s just say that Xiao isn’t the best when it comes to handling flowers as he would handle monesters, his touch isn’t the most delicate either and would prefer to get the job done fast. 
Sometimes he’d pull the roots our along with it, dirt and mud dripping from the bottom of the stem. Or the opposite. He pulls too hard and the stem just SNAPS and you’re left with just the blossom. 
“Does it matter? They’re only ingredients as you’ve said.”
That gave you a perfect excuse to teach him the ways of gardening and just be more delicate overall. 
At first he didn’t understand why humans were so meticulous about these things but when he saw a man present a bouquet to his wife, Xiao began to reconsider his methods. He doesn’t undersand mortal traditions as much and sticks to something simple and classy.
Don’t be surprised when you find a bunch on your desk for your birthday <3
{Albedo}
The sheer cold of dragon spine could naturally kill any botanical organisms aside from mints. The only flowers Albedo usually sees are the ones he artificially makes.
But being the genius he was, Albedo knew every variety of flowers to exist in the book. In this case, HE was the expert.
To him, the flower was the symbol of life. Albedo only knew the scientific facts of plant life and their natural functions, you on the otherhand were more familiar with the flower languages in a deeper meaning.
Today was a rare day where Albedo figured he’d step out of that freezing lab and conduct his research somewhere warmer, specifically Windrise where it’s quiet and away from the city.
“Dandelions may not be flowers but thei’re the main specialty of Mondstadt carrying the meaning of ‘freedom’! That’s probably how the Acting Grandmaster got her title.”
“Freedom...” He ponders, “I guess you cold say that.”
Albedo can’t understand why people would choose to associate meaning with plants. Where do their ideas come from? And why? Frankly, he can’t see the point in any of it. 
But at the same time, it made him happy to see you so enthusiastic about his research even if it wasn’t quite near the target. Albedo had always been so engrossed in his work and you’d just silently keep him company of the side, not many times where you both fot to nerd out on the same topic.
Emotions were still a mystery to him. It seems that even upon the most boring subjects, they don’t seem boring anymore when talking to his significant other. Soon enough, Albedo found himself putting his research aside and just listening to you talk. 
“And the Rose expresses romance and love. It’s common for lovers to give it to another during Valentines day.”
He hums cheekily, “Are you telling me that just to hint me to give one to you?”
“W-Well, I didn’t say that.”
He got nothing done. Perhaps his research can wait for another day, right now, he was more curious on what other meanings can a flower hold.
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translations-by-aiimee · 4 years ago
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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 8
Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊
Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 8 - This Venerable One Gets Punished
Mo Ran lay in bed like a dead fish for three days. Just as his wounds started to heal, he was summoned to Red Lotus Pavilion to do manual labour.
This was also part of his punishment. During the punishment period, Mo Ran couldn't go down the mountain, but he also couldn't just laze around. So he had to help out the sect and do some drudgery.
Generally speaking, these errands were things like: helping the cafeteria lady at Mengpo Hall wash the dishes, scrubbing the three hundred and sixty-five stone lions on the pillars of the Naihe Bridge, transcribing extremely boring archive files, and so on.
But what kind of place was Red Lotus Pavilion? It was the residence of that bastard Chu Wanning, known as the cursed place called Red Lotus Hell.
Few people in Life-Death Peak had been there, and everyone who had been there left with either their legs or their arms broken.
Therefore, in addition to Red Lotus Hell, Chu Wanning's bedroom had a more grounded nickname: Broken Leg Pavilion.
There was an inside joke circulating around the sect: "The Pavilion hides a beauty, and the beauty holds Tianwen. Enter the gate of broken legs, know the suffering of getting your legs broken. If you want your meridians broken, go to the Elder Yuheng."
There was once a female disciple who wasn't afraid of death. She was bold enough to lust after Elder Yuheng's beauty. Taking advantage of the dark night and high winds, she sneaked to the Southern Peak and climbed onto the eaves, intending to watch the Elder bathe and strip his clothes.
As you can imagine, the female warrior was beaten within an inch of death by Tianwen, crying for her father and calling her mother, and lay in bed for no less than a hundred days.
And Chu Wanning also declared that, if anyone else dared to commit another crime, he would carve out the eyes of the perpetrator himself.
Do you see? What complete nonsense! What puzzling behaviour! What a heinous man!
Within the sect, there used to be innocent silly girls who thought that, because they were women, Elder Yuheng would pity them and show compassion. They were always laughing and joking in front of him, trying to attract his attention. But ever since the elder whipped that one female hooligan, no one dared to hit on him anymore.
To Elder Yuheng, whether it was men or women, he didn't have the disposition of a gentleman. Other than a good-looking face, there was nothing redeeming about him - this was how Chu Wanning was viewed by the disciples of this sect.
The junior brother who had delivered the summons looked at Mo Ran with sympathy. He tried to stay quiet, but in the end, couldn't hold it back: "Brother Mo. . ."
"Hmm?"
". . . Elder Yuheng has such a bad temper. No one who went to the Red Lotus Water Pavilion came out able to stand. Maybe you could see if you could say your wounds haven't healed and beg Yuheng Elder to let you wash dishes instead?"
Mo Ran was very grateful for this junior brother's bodhisattva heart, but he didn't agree.
Beg Chu Wanning?
Forget it. He doesn't need to get beaten by Tianwen a second time.
So he strenuously put on his clothes, dragged his feet, and walked reluctantly to Life-Death Peak's southern peak.
Red Lotus Pavilion, Red Lotus Hell. There wasn't a single person in sight for a hundred li around Chu Wanning's residence.
No one wanted to go close to his residence. Chu Wanning's bad taste and uncertain personality made everyone in the sect stay far away from him.
Mo Ran was a bit nervous. He didn't know what Chu Wanning would make him do as punishment. His thoughts ran wild the whole trip to the southern peak. After passing through the dense bamboo groves, large swathes of beautiful red lotus came into view.
It was early morning, the sun rising from the east, reflecting a splendid shine on the horizon. The red lotus stalks in the pond stretched towards the flaming clouds in the sky, complementing each other; magnificent. At the edge of the pond, a curved zig-zag bridge led to the pavilion standing in serene silence. Behind it was a curtain of waterfalls streaming down the mountain, the fine crystal water droplets raining against the rocks at the bottom. The watery mist created by it evaporated into the air, light gleaming through the fog, creating a sense of enchanting tranquillity.
This is what Mo Ran thought about this:
Gross.
Wherever Chu Wanning lived, no matter how beautiful it was, would always be gross to him!
Just look at it, so arrogantly extravagant, a true waste of extravagance, in fact. The disciples’ dorms are all closely connected to each other and they don't take up much surface area. And then there's the mighty Elder Yuheng, who occupies a whole mountain by himself. He even dug three large ponds and filled them with lotus flowers. Although, these lotus flowers are special varieties and can be refined into immortal medicine, but—
This is getting off track, the place was not pleasing to the eye. He wished he could burn down Broken Leg Pavilion with his torch!
All he could ever do was silently criticize this place. Given that he was only sixteen* this year, he was no match for Chu Wanning. Mo Ran showed up outside Chu Wanning's residence regardless. He stood at the door, squinted his eyes, and put on a sickeningly sweet demure, pretending to be the ideal disciple.
*(T/N The original text flips between all these ages. Mo Ran is just guessing how old he is so that's why it keeps going to 14/15/16)
"Disciple Mo Ran here to greet his master."
"Yes, come in."
The room was chaotic and disorganized. The cold-blooded demon Chu Wanning was dressed in a white robe. The lapels were folded high and tightly, giving off an air of purity and abstinence. Today, he had his hair in a high ponytail, covered with a black metal hair ring. He sat on the ground fiddling with a bunch of mechanical parts, biting a pen he had in his mouth.
Casually glancing at Mo Ran, with the pen still in his mouth, he said vaguely: "Come here."
Mo Ran approached him.
It was no easy feat. Considering there were no benches or tables in this room, artwork and metal broken wood were scattered everywhere.
Mo Ran's brows twitched. He had never entered Chu Wanning's room in his previous life, and he had no idea that this well-dressed beautiful man lived in such a mess. . . He was at a loss for words.
"Master, what is this?"
"Night Wanderer."
"What?"
Chu Wanning was a little impatient, probably because it was inconvenient to speak with a pen in his mouth: "Night Wanderer."
Mo Ran silently glanced at the mess of parts on the ground.
His master was hailed as Shizun Chu, and it wasn't just out of vanity. Speaking honestly, Chu Wanning was a very powerful man. Whether it is his three god-grade weapons, his cultivation techniques, or his machine-building skills, he was clearly worthy of being defined by four words: "the peak of excellence". This was also the reason why he had such a bad temper and was so difficult to serve, but the major cultivation sects still tried to fight over him for those skill.
Regarding the "Night Wanderer", the reborn Mo Ran was well aware of it.
It was a kind of machine made by Chu Wanning, cheap to make but had strong combat power. It can guard the ordinary people in the lower cultivation world from ghosts and demons at night.
In his previous life, the well-made Night Wanderer had almost become a must-have machine for every household. The price of one was equivalent to a broom, and the effect was much easier to handle than the Grinning Door God.
After Chu Wanning died, those Night Wanderers still guarded the poor families who couldn't afford a high-level cultivator. This compassionate heart, coupled with Chu Wanning's affection for his disciples. . . hehe, it really makes Mo Ran despise him.
Mo Ran sat down and looked at the "Night Wanderer" which was just a bunch of parts at this time, and the past flashed through his mind. He couldn't help picking up one of the Night Wanderer's limbs and grasped it in his hand for a closer look.
Chu Wanning clipped a few components, finally freeing his hands. He took the pen out of his mouth and glared at Mo Ran: "That one was just finished with tung oil, don't touch it."
"Oh. . ." Mo Ran put down the machine. He put his fake smile back on still looking cute and completely harmless. He asked with a smile, "Shizun summoned me here, are you planning to let me help?"
Chu Wanning hummed: "Mm."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Clean up the house."
Mo Ran's smile froze. He looked around at the room that looked like it had been hit by an earthquake: ". . ."
Chu Wanning was a genius in immortal cultivation and an idiot in life.
After picking up the fifth broken teacup that had never been swept up, Mo Ran finally couldn't stand it: "Shizun, when was the last time you cleaned your house? My god, it's so messy!"
Chu Wanning was looking at his drawings, and didn't look up when Mo Ran spoke to him: "Almost a year."
Mo Ran: ". . ."
"Where do you usually sleep?"
"What?" There must be something wrong with the drawing. Chu Wanning was upset and looked even more impatient than usual. He rubbed his head and replied in a huff, "Of course it's the bed."
Mo Ran glanced at the bed. It was piled with all kinds of machines that had been mostly completed, as well as a bunch of tools such as saws, axes, files, and so on.
Seriously, how did this man sleep without cutting his own head off?
After working for most of the day, the sawdust on the floor had filled three dustpans, and the white towel that had wiped down the bookcase was ten times more black. By noon, he had only cleaned about half.
Fuck Chu Wanning, this person is really more poisonous than a leeching woman.
Cleaning a room didn't seem like much of a punishment, it didn't really seem like hard work, but who knew that it was such a ghastly place that hadn't been touched in a year? Not to mention that he was covered with wound. Even if he was healthy now, he could shorten his lifespan by half going through all of this!
"Shizun. . ."
"Hm?"
"Your pile of clothes. . ." They'd been stacked there for about three months.
Chu Wanning finally got one of Night Wanderer's arms attached. He rubbed his sore shoulder, looked up at the robes on the suitcase, and said coldly: "I wash them myself."
Mo Ran was relieved. Thank goodness. But he was still a little curious: "Really? Shizun can wash clothes?"
Chu Wanning glanced at him, and after a while, coldly said: "What's so hard about it? Throw them in water, soak them, take them out, and dry them."
". . ." After hearing this, he really didn't know any girl who would keep lusting after Chu Wanning. Mo Ran truly thought that it would break the hearts of dozen of women to find out how disgusting this man really was.
"It's getting late. You can accompany me to the dining hall and finish the rest when you get back."
There were people coming and going from Meng Po Hall, and the Life-Death Peak disciples were eating together. Chu Wanning grabbed a lacquered wooden tray, took a few dishes and sat in the corner silently.
From where he was, no one sat within twenty feet of him.
No one dared to sit too close to Elder Yuheng, for fear that he would get upset, and they would get a lashing from Tianwen. Chu Wanning himself actually knew about this, but he didn't mind. A cold beauty sat there, gently eating the food in the bowl.
But today wasn't like usual.
Mo Ran was brought by him, so naturally he had to follow him.
Others are afraid of him. So was Mo Ran, but he had already died once, so Chu Wanning was nothing in comparison.
Especially after the fear of first seeing him had subsided, the hatred of Chu Wanning from his previous life slowly emerged. So what if Chu Wanning was powerful? In his last life, he still died by his hands.
Mo Ran sat down in front of him, calmly chewing the sweet and sour pork ribs in the bowl. He crunched on the bones then spit them out into a pile.
Chu Wanning suddenly slammed down his chopsticks.
Mo Ran stopped for a moment.
". . . Can you stop eating with your mouth open?"
"I chew the bones, how am I supposed to do that with my mouth closed?"
"Then don't eat the bones."
"But I like to eat the bones."
"Eat around them."
The two quarreling voices grew louder and louder, and some disciples were already peeping at them.
Mo Ran fought the urge to throw the rice bowl over Chu Wanning's head. He pursed his lips, and after a while, he narrowed his eyes, and a sweet smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.
"Shizun, don't shout so loudly. Others might hear, won't they laugh at us?"
Chu Wanning has always been thin-skinned, and his voice really softened. He whispered: "Get out."
Mo Ran burst out laughing.
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
"Hey, Shizun, don't stare at me. Come on, let's eat. I'll try to be quiet."
Mo Ran had laughed enough and started playing nice again, the sound of his chewing much softer.
Chu Wanning gradually went back to gently eating. Seeing that Mo Ran was bring obedient, his face slightly relaxed, no longer looking so bitter and upset. He lowered his head, eating his green beans and tofu with grace.
After a long pause, Mo Ran started to do it again.
He didn't know what was wrong with him. In summary, seeing Chu Wanning in this life, he wanted to make a fool of himself and do whatever he could to make him angry.
So Chu Waning found that although Mo Ran did not chew loudly this time, he began to grab the ribs with his hands and eat them, sloppily eating with greasy hands and sauce-covered fingers.
Chu Wanning's blue forehead vein popped. Endure it.
He lowered his eyelashes. He didn't look at Mo Ran, and focused on his own meal.
Mo Ran didn't know if he had gotten too carefree or forgetful while eating, but he accidentally threw one of the gnawed bones into Chu Wanning's rice bowl.
Chu Wanning stared at the messy and hideous rib bone, and the surrounding air so condensed and frozen it was visible to the naked eye.
"Mo Ran. . . !!!"
"Shizun. . ." Mo Ran was quite frightened. He wasn't sure whether what he said sounded true or fake. "That. . . Uh, I didn't mean it."
Probably fake.
". . ."
"Don't be angry, I'll take it out for you."
He really stretched out his chopsticks, stuck them into Chu Wanning's bowl, and quickly picked out the bone.
Chu Wanning's face was pale, like he was about to vomit.
Mo Ran batted his eyelashes, and there was a pitiful grievance on his delicate face: "Shizun, do you dislike me?"
". . ."
"Shizun, I'm sorry."
It was just that.
Chu Wanning thought to himself: Why do you need to be restrained with the junior disciples?
He gave up the urge to summon Tianwen to hit Mo Ran. His appetite was gone, and he got up and said: "I'm full."
"What? Is that all you're going to eat? Shizun, you've barely touched your food."
Chu Wanning brushed him off: "I'm not hungry."
Mo Ran's heart felt like it was as joyful as a flower, and he still sweetly said: "Then I won't eat it anymore. We can go back to Red Lotus Hell - ehem, go back to Red Lotus Pavilion."
Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes: "We?" There was a mockery in his eyes, and then said, "Who is the other person you're talking about? Disciples and their Shizun have respectable relationships and you will address me in the proper manner."
Mo Ran carefully kept his expression, his eyes curled up with a smile, well-behaved, sensible and cute.
However, in his heart he was thinking: Respectful relationship? Proper manner?
Hehe, if Chu Wanning could know what happened in his previous life, he would know - in the end, Mo Weiyu was the only one deserving of respect in the world.
No matter how noble and arrogant Chu Waning was, he was still a piece of mud under his boot. Didn't he depend on Mo Ran's good will to survive?
Stepping quickly to keep up with his shizun's pace, Mo Ran still had a bright smile on his face.
If Shi Mei was the white moonlight in his heart, Chu Wanning was the broken fishbone stuck in his throat. He needed crush this thorn or swallow it, and it will corrode away in his stomach.
In short, during this new life, he could spare whoever he wanted.
But he would never spare Chu Wanning.
However, Chu Wanning didn't seem to want to spare him so easily.
Mo Ran stood in front of the library in Red Lotus Hell, looking at fifty rows of ten-story bookshelves, thinking that he must have heard wrong.
"Shizun, what did you say. . .?"
Chu Wanning replied lightly: "Dust all the books in here."
". . ."
"After dusting, catalogue them."
"..."
"I will check back tomorrow morning."
"!!!"
What!!! Was he supposed to stay overnight in Red Lotus Hell??
But he had planned to meet with Shi Mei, and even asked Shimei to change his medicine at night!!!
He opened his mouth to plead his case, but Chu Wanning didn't bother paying attention to him. With a wave of his wide sleeves, and turned to exit the library, and, incidentally, closed the door of the library in a haughty manner.
Mo Ran, who's date had been ruined, sat in his boiling hatred of Chu Wanning - he wanted to burn all Chu Wanning's books!!
No!
After thinking it over, he thought of something even worse. . .
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Text
someplace new
Summary: "There's a whole world out there for us! There are cold and shallow seas! There are deep seas with strange creatures and seas with mounds of earth that spit out water! There are huge coral reefs and fish of all colors and seas with the bones of enormous ships lying in the sand!"
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She was not a friendly creature, Bucky thought of the siren he had recently acquainted himself with. She preferred to spend her days swimming and singing her song for any human that she could entrap. She could dive into deeper waters than Bucky, who hated her whenever she left him alone for even a moment. Mer were never alone, and it was a difficult adjustment for Bucky. He was used to sleeping next to his brothers or hunting with his father. His The siren preferred to hunt alone, and whenever Bucky tried to sleep next to her, she would wiggle away. Touching was a different issue altogether. She swam away anytime that Bucky would even brush against her. That was difficult too. Bucky was used to touch and being touched by his pod mates. It must have been a lonely life to be a siren. Although she sure was a remarkable thing, Bucky couldn't deny that. The lights that glowed from her at nighttime drew him in, and he was beginning to see why it was easy for human males to fall under her spell. She was beautiful in a terrifying way that thrilled Bucky to his very being. Her claws and teeth were much sharper than his, and her tailfin moved like that of a shark. Her eyes were too big for her pretty face. She rarely spoke, but when she did, Bucky yearned.
They had been together for two months now. Bucky was unable to leave her nor coax her to come with him back to his pod. She was continuing to starve; he could see it. Fish didn't satiate her in the way they did him. Bucky's worry rapidly increased day by day as he watched her grown gaunt, and her skin turned hazy blue rather than silvery grey.
"You okay?" he asked her one night as she swam underneath him, singing in frustration.
"No," she said.
"Will ya come back up for a minute? I wanna talk to you about somethin.'"
"No."
"Just for a sec. Please, my pretty one?" Bucky whined. "I miss ya."
"I am hunting."
"It's been two tides. You've been swimmin' down there in the dark for ages."
He heard her sigh:
"I will be up soon."
After that, Bucky heard no more from her. He floated aimlessly amongst a school of bluefish tuna as he waited, rehearsing what he would say once she was next to him again. He was going to propose that they move to a new destination. A destination where Bucky was sure humans would be more readily available for her consumption. He knew of a great many places in the seas of the world where no siren had ever been spotted. The humans of this area knew of something evil that lurked in the waters around their town. They'd heard her calls, saw the blood in the water, mourned those that became her victims. She had been here too long, and the humans were growing more innovative every day. Once they moved on, Bucky was sure she would find willing prey.
It seemed to take her ages to swim upwards. Bright pinpricks of white light were what finally caught Bucky's attention. He waited as she rose through the water, her tail swishing lazily. Once in a brighter part of the water, she opened her eyes, squinting as she tried to adjust. Like most deep-sea creatures, she had no use for eyes. Unlike most deep-sea creatures, however, she had the distinct advantage of having them and the ability to keep them closed unconsciously in some way that Bucky didn't know. It was daytime, and Bucky watched as her lights dimmed and flickered under the weak sunlight. As soon as she was near enough, Bucky swam straight through the school of tuna to meet her.
"Anythin'?" he asked.
"No," she said. Her skin looked bluer than ever.
Bucky took a deep breath. "So, I was thinking, and you can tell me to back off if I'm bein' dumb, but I was thinkin' that you're starvin.' It's been weeks since you've had a decent meal an' months since you've even caught a human, which isn't your fault. I just think they know what hangs out around here, an' I know that other sirens have other territories around this area, so I was thinkin' what if we went somewhere else?"
"Somewhere else?"
"Yeah, not this spot, not even this sea."
She looked confused. "There are other seas?"
"Oh," he said because he wasn't expecting her not to know. "Yeah, there are plenty. There's a whole other world out there."
"I have never been anywhere else."
"Would ya like to?"
"I do not know."
Bucky held out his hand. "Will you come with me?"
She went quiet, thinking about his offer for so long that Bucky became restless again. (Mer, unlike sirens, were very impatient creatures). He flicked his tail in irritation, trying to get her to hurry up. Finally, she agreed.
"Yes," she said.
Overwhelmed with delight, Bucky did several unique spins, flipping his hair and showing off his tail in a futile attempt to impress her. She watched him impassively. She was either oblivious or unconcerned with his courtship display; Bucky could not tell which. But no matter. He was taking her away from this place, and they'd live together for the rest of their days! He'd find her shiny things and make a permanent home for her on a bed of the softest kelp, and the warmest sand Bucky could find! Then when the time was right, he would offer her his shell, and they would mate under the golden light of the sun! It was bliss.
"Where are we going?" she asked as they began to swim.
"Anywhere we want! We got a whole world to explore! There are cold seas, shallow and deep seas, and seas with huge mounds of earth that spit out the hottest water! There are huge coral reefs and fish of all colors! There are seas with the bones of enormous ships lying in the sand too!" Bucky said excitedly. "Where d'you wanna go first?"
"Wherever there are humans."
"There are humans everywhere."
"Then it is your choice."
"There is a sea that mer call inhospitable 'cause, we say, the deeper you go, the harder it is to breathe. There are fragments of ships down at the bottom."
Bucky observed her, noticing as some feeling or thought he had never seen before appeared in her eyes. Then, much to his surprise, she smiled. Her lips twisted strangely around her teeth like she had forgotten how to do it, but it was, indeed, a smile. Bucky should have been petrified at how many deadly teeth she seemed to possess, but he wasn't. She was stunning, and Bucky reveled at the sight of her. He itched to get her into a cave, just the two of them. He would bring her shiny things, and she would look at him the way she was now.
"The ships," she said decisively, noticing how strange she sounded.
She realized that this was the first decision (that had nothing to do with hunting) she had made in a while. It made her feel wrong in a way that she could not explain. She wanted to see other places. She was curious, but why was she feeling that way? Was the sway of this beautiful mer already getting to her? Impulsively, as though her body was not her own, she brushed her hand against his just as he did when they first met. She felt his eyes on her but kept hers straight ahead, determined not to look at him. Their hands were still touching, and then he coiled his fingers around hers.
"The water over there is much colder," Bucky said softly, not wanting to scare her with his voice and have her pull her hand away. "An' the salinity is a bit different. Just let me know if you feel weird or anythin', alright?"
"Yes," she answered. Her hand stayed in Bucky's hand. "How long?"
"Few days. I can't swim as fast as you."
She nodded, saying nothing, which was how they spent the next three hours. Bucky continued prattling on, pointing out this thing and that thing. He told her about his little sister Rebecca and his best friends, Steve and Sam. He regaled her in fantastic stories of their adventures and misdeeds in protecting the pod. Mer tended to embellish such tales, and Bucky was no exception as he crafted a story about him fighting off a giant sea monster single-handedly. As he told the tale, he noticed her looking at him dubiously.
"What?" Bucky asked.
"Such a creature cannot exist," she said.
"A Cthulu can't exist?"
"Yes. A creature shaped like a human and an octopus, with the wings of a dragon? What is a dragon, anyway?" she asked.
That was the longest string of words she had said to Bucky in days. He was elated.
"A huge, serpent-like creature that spits fire," he said.
"No creature that lives can breathe fire."
"Humans say we don't exist," Bucky said. "Are ya callin' me a liar?"
She shrugged. "I am not sure what that means."
"Fine, fine, you got me. It was a giant squid."
"I see."
"I did get suckered pretty hard, though," said Bucky, puffing out his chest in pride. "I got the scars to prove it. Ma was scared when I came back all bloody."
"Ma?" she asked.
"My mother."
"You have a mother?"
Bucky nodded. "'Course, everything does."
"I do not."
"But you had one once, right?"
"Once."
"What was she like?" Bucky asked eagerly.
Her lips parted, and she took a deep breath.
"She… She tried to protect me from the human men at first. But they took what they wanted from me and left me to drown. I remember dying and hearing her tell me to be brave and believe in the sea. The Gods blessed me, and I was reborn."
"Oh, I- I had no idea; I'm so sorry I brought it up," Bucky stammered, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. His poor, sweet siren. She had been through so much.
"I do not remember her."
Again, they drifted into silence. Bucky was upset when she slid her hand from his and began drifting downward into deeper water, where he could not follow. He wanted to beg for her to come back. He didn't mean to talk about such things; he had simply been eager to hear more about her! Knowing what he knew now, he felt anger wash over him. How dare those raiders act that way? What kind of creatures were the humans that did such awful things? Despicable is what they were! They were nothing more than- than- phytoplankton! Small, insignificant cowards that did not care who they hurt! Damn them!
"Are those men still alive?" he spat angrily.
"I killed them," she replied from underneath him.
"I'd kill their descendants if I could."
"Why?"
"Whaddya mean why? Nothin' hurts you! Anythin' hurts you again; you tell me an' I'll kill it, you hear me?" Bucky snarled.
From the deep, she began to sing. It was a new song, one Bucky had never heard from her, and he stopped his ranting to listen. It washed over him, replacing the anger with quiet peace, and oh. She was reassuring him in the best way that she knew how. Warmth bloomed in Bucky's chest, and he felt his face heating for an entirely different reason. She was trying to thank him. He wondered if she knew it too. Bucky smiled, glancing below him to watch as she rose back up to join him.
She continued to sing, taking his hand once again. Once her song was over, and without even thinking about it, Bucky thrust his hand into the pouch tied around his waist.
"Here," he said, shoving his mating shell into her hand, his belly reddening.
"What for?"
Bucky froze, scrambling for a false explanation. Because, just his luck, she had no idea what he had been trying to convey to her. He was too embarrassed to tell her the truth. It hadn't even been three months, and he was already prepared to settle down with her!
"Er, uh, w-well, I told ya that a pretty thing needs pretty things, right? I, uh, I found it an' thought you, er, deserved it? Yeah, I thought you deserved it."
"It is very shiny. Thank you, Bucky."
She rarely said his name. Bucky had fallen hard if only hearing her say his damn name was driving him nuts. He could feel his stomach heating the longer she looked at him. He wiggled a little bit at her stare. She raised a confused eyebrow, looking like she wanted to ask questions Bucky wasn't ready to answer. Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. They both stopped swimming.
"Oh," she said. "A kiss? "
"Mhm," said Bucky, boldly wrapping his tail around hers. "A kiss."
"May I give one back?"
"Please."
She lifted Bucky's hand to her lips and pressed her mouth to the back of it. Her teeth bit into his skin. Bucky winced.
"No, like this, with no teeth," he explained kindly, showing her.
She curled her lips entirely over her teeth and mashed her mouth against Bucky's hand.
"No, not quite. Tilt your head a little an' put your lips like this, see?" said Bucky.
With immense concentration, she tilted her head and fixed her lips, kissing Bucky just right. He couldn't help the shiver that raced down his spine, even though the kiss was only on his hand.
"Good," he said weakly. "Perfect. "
"I am hungry." She was unruffled.
"Wait! Usually, a kiss is on the mouth, remember?"
Bucky's tail tightened around hers, and he pressed their chests together. His hand darted out, and he tenderly cupped her cheek, being careful of her lure. Her skin was hard as a handful of gold coins and twice as beautiful. He watched as she followed his lead, hesitant in her motions.
She wasn't used to touching, but she didn't mind it so much when it was this mer. His skin was soft where she touched his cheek and pressed her thumb into the divet in his chin. She knew her flesh was hard, and she wondered if he hated the feeling of it. Before she could pull away, Bucky kissed her. She stiffened before she relaxed under his lips, following his lead until she felt warm from head to tailfin.
Bucky wasn't faring much better. He was glad that the water was cold and that her attention was somewhere else because his belly was so warm that he was sure it was flashing a bright red. He made a soft noise and melted in her arms. She was a swift learner, the smart thing that she was. Bucky nibbled at her bottom lip and slipped his tongue into her mouth. He found out quite quickly that, just like a shark, she did not have a tongue. It was a strange sensation, kissing a creature without a tongue in her mouth, but Bucky quickly got used to it. He found out that she liked to nip when she caught his tongue between her sharp teeth. Bucky groaned, winding his arms around her and biting her back. Eventually, they broke apart and looked at each other.
"Wow," said Bucky, swooning.
"A kiss, yes?" she asked.
"Yeah. Yes, that was a kiss. Goddamn, you learn fast."
He hadn't let her go. He couldn't let her go, not after that. She was already free of his embrace, although she kept hold of his hand, which was a start.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, sounding nervous.
Confused, Bucky nodded.
"Can I help?"
"Yes," she agreed, tugging him behind her. "Come. "
Following right behind her, Bucky became lost in thought. He may have acted rashly by giving her his shell, but now he was confident that she was the one for him. Still, he had no idea how even to broach such a topic. Did she know what mating was? Was she willing to spend the rest of her days with him? He thought it was not the best time to ask and instead followed behind her, eager to watch her in action.
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witchysolfan · 3 years ago
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How about instead of the kids in TFP being assigned to one Cybertronian to each, they were just taken care by all of them, no assignment, and every Cybertronian got different turns in picking up the kids, taking care of them, and making sure they stay out of trouble.
It just all depends on whose available.
Of course they gravitate to those they feel more of a connection with.
While I enjoy the kids having a special bond with their guardians, I always wanted to see them interact and bond with other members as well. And it would be more fair in handling different temperaments and could add to the story that the kids get away with more from one guardian but are totally grounded with another.
Bumblebee is actually the weakest
Bulkhead wised up pretty fast and is actually very inventive in coming up with ways to keep the kids outta danger
Arcee is their toughest cookie
Ratchet is grumpy
Optimus is Dad and he would not hesitate to bring on the “I’m disappointed in you” line if the kids really messed up. Otherwise, he’s actually pretty chill
It’s only when the kids actually show they can be mature over the serious situations and help in their own way without getting into too much danger that Optimus hears them out more.
Optimus stopped any outside missions after the fateful day Miko was thrown off cliff and died. If it wasn’t for her cat Ravage, reborn as the King of Cats and giving up one of his remaining lives to bring her back, Miko would’ve been gone forever.
She still wasn’t the same after that.
But she sought out Optimus weeks later, when the suddenly very quiet and very distant Autobot leader sternly shut down any discussions of the children going out with them in a mission again.
Miko had noticed him avoiding looking at her. And when he does see her, there’s this pained look in his eyes. His faceplate has been up the whole time since and he hasn’t taken it off.
“Boss bot…hey…” the girl looked up at the Cybertronian in the empty room, coming to stand by his leg. “Hey, Optimus, can I talk with you? Please?”
He carefully kneeled down and reached out for her to step on his hand as he lifted her up, standing again. His optics still focused on the wall and not on her.
“……are you okay?”
A shudder.
A flicker of his gaze on her finally.
“I should be asking you that, Miko.”
There was something odd in his optics. Something glistening at the edges.
It would be a lie if she said she was fine.
Even after all this time, she was most definitely not fine. But she managed and kept reminding herself she was alive. Ravage’s curled up furry body against her confirmed it every night.
He saved her.
The King of Cats saved her.
It still hurts.
“……not really.” She said quietly, holding herself. “And you’re not okay too….can we be not okay together?”
The sound of his mask sliding back alerted her and she looked up to a strange sight. There was a dripping noise. Turquoise liquid falling down a metal faceplate.
“….I would like that.” Optimus said softly, reaching up with his free hand to brush her cheek with a gentle finger. Miko blinked, not realizing she had been crying.
She grabbed the finger and hugged it, shuddering as her throat ached and closed up. Smiling through her tears as she relished in the feeling of air in her lungs and someone holding her.
“I am…glad…you are alive.” Optimus’s other free fingers curled around her and he did not look away from her. He wanted to reassure himself that Miko Nakadai was indeed alive and not a crumpled corpse on the canyon floor.
She was happy to be alive too.
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127-mile · 4 years ago
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Lay low.
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Pairing: Jaehyun x female reader.
Genre: The purge, gang!au, established relationship | Angst, fluff, suggestive.
Warnings: Brief mention of mature content, but it stops as soon as it starts (nothing more than a few kisses happen), strong language, home invasion, weapons, blood, injuries, minor characters’ deaths.
Plot: Being Jaehyun’s girlfriend is nice, until purge night where it becomes more dangerous to be around all because Jaehyun refused to lay low.
Word count: +5k.
A/N: This is part of @kpopscape​‘s 21st purge event.
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EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM.
"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and medical emergency services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning 7 am when the Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."
Jaehyun watches with amusement as you repeat the words scrolling on the blue screen of the television, but he winces when he hears the siren that has grown more and more annoying as the years went by.
"Are the doors and windows locked?" you ask, standing up from the couch. Jaehyun cackles when he sees you trying to open the nearest window, and he clears his throat. "Baby, if you keep trying to open it, it'll set the alarm off." you stop right in front of yet another window, and you turn on your heels. "Couldn't you tell me before I tried?"
"I did not think it was useful, as I told you Johnny would take care of everything an hour before it starts." Jaehyun stands up, and he stops once he is behind you. "Did something go wrong last year?" he asks, pressing his chest against your back, and you shake your head. "And the year before that?" his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, and you feel a shiver running down your spine. "Nothing."
"Then, there is no reason for something to happen tonight." he whispers, and he is wrong because there are a lot of reasons for something to happen tonight, you know it, and you are sure that he knows it too. "Do you promise?" he grabs your caist, and he forces your to face him, the shadow of a smirk on his face. "I promise."
You open your mouth, but instead of letting you speak, he leans in to kiss you. "What are you doing?" you ask in a laugh without kissing him back, which only makes Jaehyun growl softly. "We have twelve hours to kill, so I'm finding us an occupation." of course he would propose something like that.
"You don't want to watch a movie? Read a book?" you ask in a whisper when his lips slide down your neck. "I would rather watch you." you roll your eyes but when he bites on the skin, a rather loud moan escapes your lips. "Bedroom, bedroom right now." the noise Jaehyun lets out is way too funny for the current situation.
He takes your hand and walks to the bedroom, he closes the door behind you but before you can make a move towards the bed, he presses you against said door. "I love you." he whispers before diving back for a kiss. Jaehyun is such a good kisser, you could spend hours doing nothing but kill him. There is nothing soft or sweet in the way he kisses, but you would not change any of it.
You know he does this to change your mind, he knows you are not the biggest fan of the purge, who is? And you are not going to say no. He licks your lower lip, and you open your mouth to grant him access, be before he can do anything, a hard knock against the door startle you. "What the fuck?"
Jaehyun does not move, but he is annoyed. "What?" he asks, and you know whoever is behind that door is going to spend a really bad night. "Jaehyun, you need to come and see this." he growls, and you push yourself off of the door so Jaehyun can open it. "See what? I'm busy here, can't it wait tomorrow?"
Johnny shakes his head, and Jaehyun makes a sound low in his throat. "You really need to see this, it's important!" he curses, and he leaves the bedroom, not without grabbing your hand on his way out. "Hey, Y/n." Johnny says with a stupid grin on his face, and you roll your eyes. "Hey, idiot."
Johnny leads them to the security room where all the surveillance camera screens are installed. Taeyong and Doyoung look worried, and you wonder what is happening for them to bother Jaehyun when he clearly stated that he did not want anyone near his quarter until the of the purge.
"So, what is so urgent?" he mumbles, sitting down on the office chair, making you sit on his lap, arms wrapped around your waist. "This. This is urgent." Taeyong says, showing one of the screens. It shows the front of the house, and you frown when you see at least 6 people. "Oh, come on."
This is what you were talking about Jaehyun said there was no reason for something to happen tonight. This year was not the quietest for the Neos, so it was expected. "They have a lot of weapons, but everything is locked, right?" you ask in a small voice.
"Yes, of course, I checked at least thrice." Mark answers from his side of the room, and you turn your head towards him, he is so discreet that you did not even notice him when you entered. "Then we don't have to worry about anything, right? Right?" you nibble on your lower lip when none of the men answer. You hate this.
"Johnny, get everyone in the meeting room in five minutes. Mark, stay here and call us if anything happens." both men nod, and you stand up when Jaehyun pats your thigh. "What do I do?" you ask, following Jaehyun out of the room, and he turns on his heels. "Go find the kids, stay with them and try to pretend nothing is happening, we don't need them to find out and to freak out."
"Alright, alright." before leaving, he pecks your lips one last time and he disappears in another room. "Mark, let me know too." Mark nods and you leave the security room. You find most of the kids in the common living room, sitted on the sofas and on the ground, watching an horror movie. Of course they would watch an horror movie during the scariest night of the year.
"What are we watching?" you ask, sitting down beside Kun around the dining table. "I have no idea. There is way too much blood, and way too many girls screaming bloody murder." you giggle, but it must sound fake, because Kun looks at you, eyes narrowed. "Why are you here? I thought you would spend the night with Jaehyun, like you do every year."
"Everything is fine, Jaehyun had something urgent to take care of." yes, you do not feel like saying that Jaehyun has to take care of a bunch of armed people, ready to make them pay for whatever they did during this year. "What are you hiding? You are acting weird." he asks, head tilted to the side, and you hate the way he is looking at you, the intensity of his gaze, because you know you are going to cave-in and tell him everything.
But you do not have to say anything when a loud thud is heard in front of the door. One of the boys payse the movie, and all of their eyes turn towards the door. "Tell me." you stand up, and trying to stop the boys to check by themselves is harder than you thought it would be. "Go to the basement. All of you, lock yourself in and stay quiet, I have something to ask to Mark."
"Don't play the superhero, Y/n, and come with us." Kun says, grabbing your hand but you free yourself from his grip right away. "I have something to do. Now, go!" Kun gathers all of the kids, and you see the basement's door close behind them just when another thud is heard, louder this time and you are pretty sure you saw the door shake.
This can't be fucking happening.
You run to the security room, and you can't even begin to explain what emotions are on Mark's face when you push the door. He looks absolutely frightened and his eyes are shining with tears. "What is going on?" you ask, approaching the screens. Now, the men can be seen on multiple of the screens, which mean, they are surrounding the house.
"I have no idea. I told Jaehyun and he said he is taking care of it." he says in a voice so small that your heart breaks a little bit. "I told Kun and the boys to lock themselves in the basement, you should go and join them." Mark shakes his head. "I can't. Jaehyun asked me to be here."
"I do not ware what Jaehyun said, you are too young to be in the house. You have to be in safety with the others. So go, I'll take care of the cameras." Mark seems to think about it, but he stands up. "Give me the phone." he does just that, and he leaves the room at a rapid pace.
You dial Jaehyun's number, and the man answers right away. "Mark, what do you see?" you bite your lower lip, because you know you are in for a big argument, but it is what it is. "It's not Mark, it's me. Mark went to the basement with the others."
"What? Why? You should be in the basement too, Y/n!" he says, his voice as sharm as the knife you see a man raise in front of a camera. "Ten and Jungwoo are still in their rooms, I have to go and get them. You take care of whatever mess you brought in this house, and I'm taking care of putting everyone to safety."
"Please, for the love of God, stay safe too. I don't know how long we'll be able to keep the doors close, so take a gun with you, there is one in one of the drawers of my desk." you nod even though he can't see you. "I will. Please, be careful too." he hums and you hang up. Maybe you should have told him that you loved him, in case you do not have the chance to tell him after tonight.
You head for Jaehyun's office, and like he said, you find a gun in the bottom drawer of his desk. Opening the padlock was easy, as it is your birth day. You stop moving to listen, but no sound come to your ears. There are two options: either the men decided to stop. Either you are too far away from the entrance to hear anything.
Or the third option, they are comploting to open the doors and the windows. But you do not want to think about this option, it is way too scary. You take Mark's phone, and you dial Ten's number, but he doesn't answer, nor does Jungwoo. "Fucking hell." you muster, you are going to teach them a lesson. They need to learn to answer their fucking phones, especially on purge night.
You are in the middle of the staircase when you hear the sound of broken glass. They found a way in, but it did not sound close, so you should be safe once upstairs. At least you hope you will, because if you die, or end up being injured, Jaehyun is going to kill whoever decided to not force you into the basement.
When you find Ten's room, you open the door. You do not have the time to knock, and you do not want to attract anyone's attention. Ten is on his bed, headphones in his ears and you can hear his music from the door. He is in for a big surprise, you think as you hit his arm.
"Stay quiet." you say as soon as he takes his headphones off. "What is going on?" he asks, already on his feet. "The house is surrounded, and a window was broken on my way here." his eyes widen, and you grab his hand. "We have to find the others, and you have to join Kun and the boys in the basement."
"Do you have anything that could work as a weapon?" you ask, and he looks around before grabbing a baseball bat. I will not hurt as much as a bullet, but it is better than nothing. "Let's go find Jungwoo." he nods, and you leave the bedroom. Now, the noises are way clearer.
You hear hushed conversation, but unfortunately, you do not know if it belongs to the Neos or the men trying to break in. "Jungwoo is not in his room." Ten finally says and you turn on your heels to face him. "What? Where is he?"
"The gaming room, with Taeil." oh for god's sake.
The gamine room is far enough from the front door that they probably will not think about checking it, but it is downstairs, which mean you have to get close to the front door to join them. "What happened to everyone stays in their bedrooms or in the living room."
"I know, I told him, but because Jaehyun said nothing would happen, they thought it was safe to go there." well, they thought wrong, and you hope you'll live long enough to give them a piece of your mind. "Listen to me, Ten. I am going to get them, you are going to the basement."
"No, I'm not leaving you alone." Ten is too stubborn for his own good, so you know you won't have the last word. "Let's go then. Walk on the right side of the steps, they don't creak."
Getting down the stairs is quick, but also complicated. You have to stop every time you hear a noise, and you hear a lot of these. "Did you check upstairs?" someone asks, and you stop abruptly. "Not yet." another person answers and you are ready to go back up, but you lock eyes with a stranger at the same moment.
"Wha-" you grab Ten's baseball bat, and before the man can alerts someone else, you hit him square in the head with the bat. Shooting him would have been more efficient, but also too loud ro remain unnoticed. "Let's go before he wakes up."
You look on your left, and on your right and when you see nothing, you start to run towards the gaming room. At least, the idiots who entered the Neo's house decided to keep the light on. It makes the whole ordeal easier, and also more dangerous.
When you try to turn the door handle, nothing happens. The door is locked. You knock softly, putting your ear against it but you hear nothing. "Taeil, Jungwoo, it's me, open the door." you repeat a few times, and when the door finally opens, it is on a scared Jungwoo, cheeks glistening with tears.
"Ten, Ten!" the man looks frozen on the spot, and you have to grab his arm to push him inside of the room, just in time as a bullet ends against the wall where his head was. "Fuck!" he yells, locking the door. "There! There are people in this room!" the shooter says.
"Both of you. If we survive, I'm going to murder you myself, I promise." you say through gritted teeth to the two men. "Hide behind the couch." you oder and they obey. So, it's not all bad to be Jaehyun's girlfriend, you think. You have a little bit of authority over them.
You try to call Jaehyun, but he does not answer, so you choose to send him a text instead.
To Jaehyun - We are in the gaming room, they saw us and they have guns. Are you okay?
From Jaehyun - Don't move, we are coming.
To Jaehyun - Make them leave, we don't need help right now.
Well, they do need help but having them out of the house is way more important than being savec. Even if they only have a gun and a baseball bat, they can protect themselves. If the men find the door to the basement, they won't be able to protect each other, so they are not the more important right now.
From Jaehyun - We'll come and get you when it is safe.
You walk back when voices are heard on the other side of the door. "Little bird, would you please open the door?" the stranger asks, and you want to scoff. Jaehyun would kill him if he heard him give you a petname without his accord. "Because if you do not open yourself, I will have to open it myself, and I won't be as nice."
"If you are ready to get your head blow up, then come on in, be my guest, I'm waiting." being Jaehyun's girlfriend is bad sometimes, because of your self-confidence. A self-confidence that could get them killed, yes.
You would be lying if you said you were expecting the man to stop trying to break in, but he does. And the door does not hold on for more than a couple of hits with a heavy object against it. "Hello little bird."
You get the gun from your back pocket, but of course, of fucking course, it is nowhere to be found. You probably lost it in the stairs when you grabbed Ten's baseball bat. "Oh, did you lose something little bird?" he asks, taking a few steps forwards, and you take a step back each time he does.
He stops moving when you are backed up against the window, you have nowhere to go, nowhere to run. You lock eyes with Jungwoo, and the man stands up as silently as he can and you see what he does. He grabs the pocket knife he still has in his jacket, just in case. And if you complained about said knife before, you take back everything you said.
"Maybe I should keep you, you pretty bird." you tilt your head to the side, and you try to ignore the putric breath hitting against your face. "I do not think you could handle me." you shrug and the man starts to lose his temper, and that's what you love so much about men, they can't stand being belittled.
"You bitch." he hisses and it's at that moment that Jungwoo slides the knife in your direction. Now, you need to distract him, or he will never let you get down to grab it. So you do what you do best, you hit him right in the balls with your knee. "You fucking bitch!" he yells, taking a step back, hands cupping his crotch.
You crouch down and you grab the knife and before he can make a move, you stick the blade of the knife in his throat. He opens his mouth to scream, but you hear nothing but a gurgling noise, blood running down the wound and onto his white shirt. And the carpet, which is going to be a mess to clean. "What were you going to say, you bitch?" you ask.
"Let's go."
Ten, Taeil and Jungwoo stand up, and they leave the room together, closing the door as best as they can behind them. You can't lock it unfortunately but it should be fine. It'll take some time for him to bleed out, but he will die.
You find the door to the basement without any problem, and you knock, you know Kun must be behind, waiting to be told it is safe to get out. "Kun, open!" you say and he does right away. "Go on, get down." when Ten, Taeil and Jungwoo are getting down the stairs, you close the door in front of Kun's face.
You should be going downstairs with them, but you are too far down to stop. You have to find Jaehyun, that's all that mattesr for you. Jaehyun, and nothing else, especially now that everyone is safe downstairs.
You quickly stop in the safety room, you have to check the screens to see if more people are outside, but no, the screens are empty. And if only they had cameras inside of the house, it would be easier to track the people down, but no, you have to go blind on a deadly mission you forced upon yourself.
Jaehyun is so going to kill you.
You should have thought twice before deciding to stay in the house, because as soon as you step out of the room, someone grabs you by the neck. "Oh, would you look at that, the boss's girlfriend."
He pushes you against the closest wall, hard enough for your head to hit the wall and you wince. You see stars dancing behind your eyelids, and a pitiful whine leaves your lips. "Oh, did it hurt? That's too bad." the pressure on your airflow decrease and you grab his wrist. "If your boyfriend had decided to lay low like we told him to, we would not be here today." he explains in a low voice.
"At least now, I have a reason for him to come out. Come on, follow me." he lets go of your throat, and before you have time to take a deep breath, he blocks both of your arms behind your back to make it easier for him to walk with you, and more difficult for you to leave. It is useless, so you do not even try to run away, it would cause nothing but harm on you, and on the others.
"Jung Jaehyun, where are you hiding?" the man asks in a loud voice. "I have your girl, so you have no choice but to come out." he ends his sentence with a laugh that brings shills down your spine, that was an unpleasant sound you wish you'll never have to hear again.
"If you don't come out, I'll have no choice than to kill her." he forces you to the ground, a hand on the back of your neck and the next thing your hear is the sound of footsteps. "Let her go." and Jaehyun's angry voice.
"And why would I do that? Did you let go of my brother when I asked you not to kill him, to spare his life?" the man spits and Jaehyun heaves a long sigh. "Your brother hurt one of my boys, he had to pay. Aren't you the one who said an eye for an eye?"
"That's why I'm here. An eye for an eye, your girl has to die, and you'll have to watch her die." you feel the cold of the gun's barrel on the back of your head, and you close your eyes. So that's how it ends, you think. But are you surprised? Not really, your parents told you it would happen when they learned who your boyfriend was.
You could have listened to them, but sometimes, love is so strong that your heart is the first think you listen when you should obviously be listening to your brain.
"Any last word, pretty?" he asks, and you look up at Jaehyun. You saw him mad before, but this is another level. The anger in his eyes is strong, you can feel it burns through your skin, because you know you are part of the reason behind the anger.
"I love you." you say with a soft smile, and the man shakes his head. "I'm a nice man, Jaehyun, so I am giving you the opportunity to tell her something before I kill her." Jaehyun scoffs, fists squeezed so tight that you can see how white and bloody his knuckles are.
"Do you remember our second anniversary," he starts and you frown, this is not the time to talk about the good old day. "this guy tried to flirt with you while we were eating in the park." he does not need to finish, you know what he means, so you nod. "I do remember. I remember everything."
"You remember what I taught you that day?" once again, you nod. This is a memory you will never forget. "I really wish we could do this again." he moves his lips, and you know he is counting.
One.
Two.
"Three." he says out loud, and you throw your head back, knocking the man on the nose. He growls loudly as he falls on his ass from the impact, but at least, it gives enough time for Jaehyun to grab his gun and shoot him in the head. The noise is so loud that you have to cover your ears, eyes closed tight.
Jaehyun talks to you, but you can't hear anything, but you can feel him force you back on your feet and you follow him without saying a word."
"Eh eh, open your eyes." you look up when you feel Jaehyun's hands on your cheeks. He is still angry, but you can also read relief in his eyes, the relief to be reunited with you. "Basement. Now."
He doesn't give you the choice, the door open, and Kun takes your arm to force you down the stairs. Your ears hurt, everything hurt but you know it is nothing but exhaustion.
"Are you okay, are you hurt?" someone asks, and you shake your head when the buzzing finally stops. The boys are all on one side of the basement, pilled against each other. "That's not my blood." it's enough for Kun to stop asking questions.
You ignore how long you spend in the basement, but at some point, you can't hear a thing coming from upstairs. You remember that you still have Mark's phone and when you check, you notice that it is almost 7 am. You must have fallen asleep, because you did not see the hours pass.
When 7 o'clock strikes, the door to the basement opens and the place is suddenly bathed in yellow light. "You can come up now, it's safe."
Johnny.
They all stand up, groggy and sore after so many hours crowded in one spot. You let the boys go up first, and when it's your turn, you brace yourself for the worst.
A few windows are broken, the front door is in three pieces and on the ground, there is blood everywhere and you have to hold onto Jisung's hand when he starts to slip on a pool of someone's blood. "Easy kid, don't hurt yourself." he thanks you in a small voice and you nod.
"Kids, go to your bedrooms. Take a shower, take a nap if you want, Kun and I will call you when breakfast is ready." a few of them refuse, but Taeil does not give them the choice, he leads them upstairs. They do not need to see more of the mess that is the house they were supposed to be safe in.
"Johnny?" you ask, and the man peaks his head from the kitchen's doorframe and he looks terrible. He has a black eye, and bleed is coming out of his forehead. "How are the others?" he shrugs, and a weight falls on your stomach. "Fine. Injured but fine. Jaehyun too."
You heave a long sigh you didn't know you were holding, and you walk past Johnny to join your boyfriend. The man is sitting on a stool, an ice pack against his severly bruised jaw. He is coreved in blood, but it does not look like his blood, which is a real relief.
"Baby." he says when he sees you, and you smile. "Let me do it." you hold the ice pack for him, and he closes his eyes, finally letting his arm rest on the kitchen island. "How are you feeling? Do you need to go to the hospital?" he shakes his head. "No, it's fine. A few cuts and bruises."
"Any of the other boys need to go to the hospital?" Johnny clears his throat, and you turn to face him. "Doyoung. One of the men broke his arm." oh, this must hurt like a bitch, you think. "Do you want me to drive him?" Johnny shakes his head, keys already in his hand. "I'm going, don't worry."
Kun starts to clear up the dining table, before joining them in the kitchen. They all deserve a good breakfast.
"I'm glad you are okay." Jaehyun says and you look at him. "It's only because of you. I should have listened, but I had to find you, I had to make sure you were okay." you put a hand on his cheek and he shrugs. "I was not expecting you to obey, I know you better than anyone else, but it was worth the try."
He is right, he does know you better than anyone in this house. Better than anyone in the world even, parents included. "I love you Y/n." he whispers and you kiss him softly, trying not to hurt him, tasting blood. "I love you even more."
Now comes the worst part of the purge. It is time to clean the blood, to get the bodies out of the house, to put everything in order and to buy whatever was broken during the night. It is also time to help the boys, to apologize for causing so much fear and pain when they promised to protect them no matter what when they first moved in.
It will be hard, and it will take a few days, or weeks but they'll succeed, you know it. Everyone is strong on their own, and even stronger when they are together.
Until next year.
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samadiw · 4 years ago
Text
SOULMATES 🖤🔥
Sneak Peek into my upcoming fic 😍
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The hunt for hocruxes take longer than expected, the trio are well into their twenties but they tirelessly continue their efforts to vanquish The Dark Lord.
It is by an unfortunate misunderstanding that Ron gives away their location.
Giving her friends a chance to escape and continue their journey, Hermione makes the ultimate sacrifice and surrenders herself to widely proclaimed Angel of Death.
Her terms of imprisonment are strange and baffling to her.
She is to be well cared for and educated. Her captor, Draco Malfoy and his family are entrusted with her care, a decision that does not sit well with the ice blonde man now nearing twenty five years of age.
Voldemort has plans for her, he harbours a strong infatuation that he keeps hidden, except when they are alone.
He keeps his advances to subtle touches and lingering glances but does nothing else to thwart the headstrong woman he holds captive.
Hermione devises a plan, she decides to seduce the young handsome Malfoy into bending to her will and letting her leave.
She entices him with her clothes, secret glances and lingering touches but her advances go unnoticed, it frustrates her that he is immune to her charms.
He notices her alright, it takes all his will power to not kneel at her feet and claim her for himself.
She looks, smells and probably tastes like a forbiddenly enticing fruit.
Hermione puts her plan into motion on his birthday and bites off more than she can chew.
Her body betrays her shamelessly and he takes his birthday present in the form of her orgasm on his tongue but after the deed he leaves her to mercy of the shadows with her cum dripping down her thighs as a reminder of the dangerous game she's playing.
Her existence isn't harrowing, it's the best one could hope for.
It isnt until Narcissa's famous Malfoy Christmas ball and the untimely appearance of Theodore Nott that Draco loses his composure and cracks.
T : "Is that Hermione Granger?"
D : "Yes."
T : "The ugly duckling has blossomed into a beautiful swan."
D : "If you are into that sort of thing."
T : "You have eyes, Malfoy."
He did have eyes and Granger looked stunning in a flowing dark green gown that hugged her neck in a high halter and left her entire back exposed teasing the rise of her shapely arse.
It was obvious his mother had taken it upon herself to dress Granger for the occasion. Malfoy family jewels glistened around the former Gryffindor's neck and wrists.
He didn't appreciate Theo's lustful eyes roving over her body.
T : "I fancy a dance."
D : "She's for show only."
T : "Is that jealousy I hear?"
D : "Granger's fate is in the hands of The Dark Lord."
T : "Indeed, but excuse me, I want to get to know the most beautiful woman in the room."
D : "Theo, I'm warning you."
T : "Fuck off, Malfoy, you have no control over my actions."
Draco simmers in unadulterated fury as he watches Theo approach Hermione and engage her in conversation.
The bloody nerve of her, he narrows his eyes and glares as she touches Theo's arm and throws her head back in laughter.
Hermione locks eyes with a pair of icy swirls of grey, he looks positively good enough to eat.
Handsome is a word wasted on Draco Malfoy such is his presence, she gravitates towards him unwaveringly but tonight a willing good looking man is paying her attention and it feels refreshing and oddly satisfying.
Theo leads Hermione to the dance floor and pulls her close to his body, his fingers tease her exposed skin, she willingly moves in and let's her hand slide around his neck.
She peeks a look over Theo's shoulder at Draco, he continues to stare at them unblinkingly, his body radiates anger and a reddish glow emits from his fingertips.
From afar, Draco watches Theo's slow movements on the woman swaying in his arms.
Theo bends to kiss Hermione"s cheek and Draco stiffens.
The song ends, Theo kisses Hermione's hand and with the promise of a walk under the moonlight, they part ways.
She grabs a flute of champagne and walks into the wide terrace. The night sky is particularly pretty with many stars scattered across the heavens.
Her thoughts linger on Ron and Harry.
Soon, I'll be free.
A voice of pure steel cuts through her thoughts.
D : "Having fun, are we?"
H : "The best one can hope in prison."
D : "Did you enjoy him touching you?"
H : "As a matter of fact, I did."
H : "It gets so lonely and Theo is a distraction I wholeheartedly welcome."
H : "He says he's spending the night, perhaps we can get to know each other better."
D : "Like hell..."
Draco closes the distance between them, pulls her roughly to his chest and apparates them away.
Their feet touch solid ground and Hermione pushes Draco away angrily.
H : "Get away from me, don't fucking touch me."
Draco tosses his jacket aside and begins to unbutton his black shirt.
D : "You don't mean that."
He stalks towards her purposely and Hermione steps back at once.
H : "I'm warning you, Malfoy."
D : "I've been meaning to do this all night."
He grabs her around the waist, pulls her to him and claims her swollen lips hungrily.
Hermione stills as his kisses invade her body and mind but she has some fight left in her.
She struggles, manages to free a hand, bringing it across she slaps him hard with all her might.
The slap echoes through the quiet confinement of the room, her fingermarks stain his pale skin and even in the dim light it stands out.
Draco touches his lip and his fingers glisten with blood, he grins at the woman in front of him.
Her fiery spirit turned him on, but when he took her it would be with her consent and not otherwise.
Hermione stares at her trembling hand and then at the imposing man before her.
She breathes rapidly to calm her shattered nerves.
He turns to leave but a small hand grabs his arm in an ironclad grip, he turns to face her and is momentarily blinded by her mane of thick brown hair.
Hermione grabs Draco by the collar and kisses him fervently.
Their need urgent, they shed their clothes and caress and touch every inch of their naked bodies.
She is impressed by his length and girth, the sight fills her with a sensation she is not familiar with.
It presses into the skin of her inner thigh and she closes her eyes in anticipation.
He trails his fingers along her body, tracing the luscious curves of her full body.
Draco sucks on the delicate skin on her neck, he grabs hold of his rock hard cock and guides it into her entrance.
Without a second thought, he rams into her hoping to make a lasting impression, the wanting to stand out from her former lovers is strong.
Her fingers dig into his back and expensive sheets, a pained moan rolls off her tongue.
A whimper follows and Draco stills as her tight walls clamp down around his dick and the tip tears through a barrier.
He brings his head up and stares at the woman beneath him.
Words desert him....
D : "You're a virgin."
He had already taken her, Hermione almost let's out a laugh.
Boldly, she locks eyes with him and runs her fingers through his silky fine locks.
H : "Not anymore."
D : "Granger, fuck...why didn't you tell me?"
H : "Does it matter?
D : "Yes, I shouldn't have been your first."
H : "Why? What difference does it make?"
D : "Forgive me."
H : "There's nothing to forgive, I wanted this."
H : "I want you."
He claims her lips passionately.
D : "Everything about you is special."
D : "I want to ravish you slowly."
H : "Finish what you started, Draco."
Hearing his name coming out her mouth was explosive, it went down to his core.
He slows his pace and pleasures her until they are bathed in sweat and completely spent.
Draco withdraws reluctantly, throws his long legs off the bed and strides naked into the massive ensuite.
He opens the gold plated tap, takes his cock in his hand and stares at it.
The tip is covered with blood and semen.
Her blood, the evidence of her virginity and purity.
It was pure and untainted, not a drop of mud or discoloration to it.
She was his.
It was nothing like he had ever experienced, he was well versed in bedding a woman, but this, being with her felt as if he was reborn from the ashes.
The roaring feelings from his core scares him, it paralyzes him and he holds onto the porcelain sink to steady himself.
The generations old magic flowing through his veins speak to him, it pulls at the strings of his heart and propels him to her.
Their union is an unexpected one, a forbidden love in dark times.
Draco narrows his eyes at his relection and smirks, he would protect her, cherish her and love her with all his being.
Hermione touches her body, it was mere minutes but she craved him again, her heart aches for his presence, she couldn't understand what was happening but it felt glorious.
The need to be surrounded by his warmth engulfed her, she closes her eyes, throws her head back and groans in frustration.
Large hands palm her ripened breasts and teeth graze her sensitive skin.
He pushes his throbbing cock into her tight cunt and pleasured moans escape their lips.
He growls protectively, "Mine."
She sighs in content, "Yours, always."
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icylook · 4 years ago
Text
I Hold You
Pairing: Leon x Leri (MC)
Rating: Explicit; Word count: 1625; Read on AO3
Tags: Spoilers for the AMR demo; Not canon compliant - Leon and Leri (MC) started their relationship half a year before the final battle; Established Relationship; Angst and Fluff; Smut
A Mage Reborn demo 👑 ✨ @mage-parivir
Fic title inspo from the song - I Hold You by Clann 🎶 🤍
“Tickles.”
Wicked smile curls his lips, not that Leon can see it with his head thrown up, exposing his throat to the gentle assault of his mouth. Next kiss is even lighter and Leon squirms again but doesn’t tell him to stop. So he licks briefly over the pulse point, tasting the salt of his skin, breathing in the scent of soap and… tang of blood. Someone wasn’t as dutiful in his quick bath as he should be. 
But he knows why. Leon is tired. 
Every day a little more, his shoulders carrying the weight of the rebellion. 
Tired of the responsibility, and he’s ashamed of it, Leri being the only witness of a miserable confession, one dark, dark night ago. Murmured into his chest, breath wet with hot, unwanted tears. Guilt eating him alive because of the lives he’s lost, because he didn’t know what he should do with the faith of so many people in his hands. Terrified to the bone with the thought of disappointing those who believe in him and leading them to their cruel, unfair demise.
Leri sees the exhaustion with the line of his spine tauter with every speech he makes to rally his troops. He notices it in brief grimaces of pain, long hours in heavy armor with the weapon in his hand, constantly stained with crimson.
But after every nightmare of the day before, at every dawn, he gets up from his bedroll and faces what fate seems to throw at him. And Leri keeps being his shadow because of his resilience. 
Because Leon is his Sun.
And he’s the Moon.
Leon’s hand tangles in his braid when Leri nips lightly at the crook of his neck. Lets out a shuddering breath when his hand wanders down his waist, his fingers close over the fabric of his trousers, teasing the shape of his length. He’s quiet when he slowly makes him fill in his palm, a gasp here and there when he sneaks his hand in to take hold of him properly. Touching him as he likes, kissing his way up his throat and along his jaw. Feeling hotter in his own night clothes with every little noise and expression of pleasure the man in his arms makes. 
So subdued and quiet, so different than when out on the battlefield - commanding and unyielding in his strength. 
Here, he’s Leri’s.
Nights are the only time when they can be close to each other. Resting side by side in precious moments of calm. Rare are the days when they go to sleep at the exact same moment and wake up together and Leri cherishes them dearly. Collecting the memories before what little happiness they share is snached by the time.
In their shared bedroll Leon isn’t the king and a mighty warrior he serves, but a man he loves. And he isn’t a royal retainer and mage with eerie magic that most keep their distance from, but a man in love. 
Both of them take huge risks on the battlefield, and Ilya does what she’s able to with her healing, but some of Leon’s scars run deeper than his skin, even if he tries not to show it. 
There's no doubt the war takes its toll on everyone, mentally and physically. 
Every night Leri molds himself over Leon’s body as if it is their last. Leon’s embrace is as tight in return.
Nyx is merciful, but he can feel the growing hunger under his skin with every close dance with death, the cold fire in his veins harder to conceal. He doesn’t want to think what will happen when he pushes the line one time too many. Because he knows he can’t keep toeing it without consequences. 
They call him reckless, but what he’s doing is calculated. He makes light of the exhaustion of his body after every collapse when the spells take too much. Doesn't want them worrying about him when so much is at stake. 
He'll be fine, he’s fine. 
Teasing his companions when they scold him for being inappropriate on purpose, just to see the shadow of a smile on their face. Once, Saine told him that the sound of his laughter on the battlefield upon a spell going well is more terrifying than the spirits he summons. An impish thing to be amused but proud of, but Leri isn’t picky - he has a reputation to uphold.
The hold on Leri’s hair tightens when his wrist twists the way he knows Leon likes. Suddenly, the world tilts when his back meets the bedroll. Leon braced above him now.
“Leri...”
His breath hitches. Leon whispers his name like one of the gods in an hour of need. He almost drowns in the depth of an emerald that’s gazing at him like no one has ever before.
Any witty words stay stuck to his tongue with the shift in the mood. Leon’s eyes darken when he cups his face, leaning down, hot breath upon his lips. 
Hovering, waiting for him to meet him halfway. And he does, because he’s selfish and wants everything his Sun gives him. 
He’s good, Leri thinks, as Leon’s light kiss deepens and he parts his lips to let him in. The clumsiness of that first stolen kisses long gone, making him shiver with need. He hasn’t thought of Leon being a fast learner, eager and determined. Being focused on him now, as he is in battle. It’s both satisfying and frightening, but the thrill of it is something he seeks, over and over again.
Leri lets out an involuntary hiss when Leon hoists his left thigh, jostling his bad knee.
“Sorry,” Leon brushes his mouth over his, then over his cheeks and eyelids. Peppering his face with soft kisses and softer “sorry”, nestling himself between his legs and he opens them for his lover. Welcoming the weight of his warm body, pushing up when Leon pushes down. Drinking up his breathy moan with his lips, the tenderness of it making his heart clench. 
Slightly distracted by the way Leon licks into his mouth his hands stop at his sides, fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back. He pulls at the fabric of his shirt, impatient to get rid of it. But Leon doesn’t relent as Leri expects him to, too thirsty for a taste of his kisses. Making his head spin with the sensations of hunger mixing with affection he still tries to get used to.
Leon grunts when Leri bites at his lower lip and pulls back, tongue soothing the sting. The blush of his cheeks goes down his neck, gold hair messy, reddened lips plump and wet. Shirt hanging on one arm, the smooth skin of his collarbones and chest almost glowing. Green eyes full of want. Looking utterly debauched.
I did this, Leri thinks.
Somehow, they are able to push their trousers down enough to get a hold of their cocks. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the friction on the verge of uncomfortable. But they don’t stop and Leon is silent, unrelenting in the sensual flow of his body. It’s Leri who has trouble with keeping the noises in, biting at his fist.
The walls of the tent are thin and he could throw a silencing spell on them, but using his magic as it’s recovering will only botch the process. Leon catches his hand, holds down his wrist, then intertwines his fingers with Leri’s. Hot breath mingles with his, a gasp fans his skin when Leon shifts on his elbow, face twisted in quiet pleasure.
“Leri,” he speeds up the roll of his hips and the heel of Leri’s leg digs into the small of his back. Leon slows down to a drag, grinding and worrying at Leri’s neck, sucking at the skin and making Leri arch his back with a sobbing moan, barely stifled in the crook of his neck. 
“Stop teasing me, blondie, come on,” Leri’s low whisper makes Leon tighten his hold on him, light huffs of air leaving his throat when he sneaks his hand to grasp their cocks together. Leri’s hand closes over his and they keep at it in near perfect rhythm with their hips moving. Leri is first to feel the tug of pleasure low in his belly, spreading up his spine and the force of his thrusts increases with the urge of the chase, using Leon’s body to get to it. 
He curls into Leon with one long exhale when he nears his completion, hips jerking a few more times before he stills. Leri blinks as Leon’s shaky hand cups his face, kissing him sloppily, teeth latching at his bottom lip as Leon’s writhes above him. He rearranges both of Leri’s legs to wrap around his waist and rolls his hips again, still hard. Leri twists his hand up and down, rubbing the hot skin of his length and soon Leon’s back goes taut when it’s his turn to come, spilling over Leril’s fingers and his stomach, catching on his nightshirt. Silent in his climax, cherry lips opened in choked gasp hidden in Leri’s hair.
Both of them breathe hard and fast, Leon’s chest shining with sweat, strands of gold hair plastered to his temple, but green eyes are full of content. Leri reaches for him and Leon easily goes down, lips capturing Leri’s in slow and lazy kiss, full of satisfaction and affection. 
One more night.
He had him for one more night.
Leri wants to hold him again and again, wishing the moment to never end.
He didn't know that he was cold until he started basking in the warmth of his Sun. Because now, being without it, the cold seems unbearable. 
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jobean12-blog · 4 years ago
Text
Bewitched
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 1,062
Summary: You and Bucky attempt to make it through a haunted maze and get more than a scare (sort of friends to lovers) 
Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ continuation of drunk drabbles and the fun prompt below by @buckys-henley​ and the Fall in Love challenge- corn maze theme-hope you enjoy this! Thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤
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Warnings: Halloween scary themes (very light), protective Bucky, soft and sweet fluff, a kiss, friends to more, some laughs- it’s fun! 
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“Are you cold?” You look up at Bucky, his eyes soft when he starts to take off his jacket. “Um, I think so?” you say apprehensively, holding your arms tight to your body.  He stops with one arm in and one arm out, “you don’t have to take it. You just looked cold.” Your hands shoot out, “no, no, that would be great, thank you.” He smiles, draping it over your shoulders and helping your get your arms in.
You’re drowning in it but it’s warm from his body and smells like him. “You look really cute.” Looking down at your feet you say a quiet, “thank you,” and start walking again, staying a few steps ahead of him near Nat. She turns to you, “is that his jacket?” she whispers, and you nod. “Yes!” You giggle at her enthusiasm and peek over your shoulder to find Bucky’s eyes on you while he chats with Steve.
Turning back quickly you take Nat’s hand and continue walking toward the haunted maze. Your heart starts to beat faster, and your stomach is in knots by the time you reach the entrance. Everyone piles up close while you show your tickets and walk in. Steve, Sam, Clint and Nat start teasing each other about who will scream first and Rhodey, Tony, Wanda and Vision are arguing about whether or not they can use their powers against any ghouls.
You haven’t walked through yet, your hands clasped tightly in front of you while you try to calm your breathing. “Hey doll, you ok?” Bucky’s soft voice startles you, his warm hand resting on your lower back as he looks you over. “Yea. Yea, thanks. Guess it’s time to go in.” You gulp and take a step forward, leaning into his hand only slightly as you concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
“Where did everyone go?” he laughs from behind you. Your eyes scan the nearby bales of hay and large stalks of corn, no one else in sight. “They left us,” you whisper, starting to feel more freaked out by the second. “Well you’re not alone. Come on, we can do this.” Bucky determinedly starts walking ahead and you fall right in line next to him, your hands touching softly every so often.
The night is cool and clear, small smatterings of stars twinkling above even through the bright light of the full moon. “It’s so quiet,” you mumble, wrapping Bucky’s jacket tighter around your body. “I know right. I don’t even hear any animals.” You look at Bucky and give him a weak smile, “they are probably in on this.” You both let out a small laugh, not realizing that you’ve taken a wrong turn in the maze.
“Hey Buck? I think we may have gone the wrong way.” You stop walking and spin in a circle, starting to feel dizzy. “Yea, it looks like it.” His voice is quiet, like he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t draw unwanted attention your way. The two of you end up back to back in the middle of the row, Bucky’s hand reaching back so his fingertips lightly brush against yours. Slowly, his pinky curls around your pinky and each finger follows suit until you’re holding hands.
Your skin tingles with a spark of electricity from his touch and when you turn to face each other his grip on your hand tightens, “it’s ok babe, we’ll find our way out.” His thumb gently caresses the top of your hand and you give him a squeeze, almost forgetting your current situation when his eyes drift down to your lips. “Yea, we’ll be fine,” you whisper, inching closer to him. He pulls his gaze away, clearly trying to focus on the task at hand and not the feel of your body so near.
“So um, which way should we go?” you ask, looking around. When you don’t get an answer you look up, “Bucky?” His eyes are locked on yours and his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “Uhhh, I have no idea.” Giving him a knowing smile, you grab the front of his shirt, your other hand still holding his, “me either.”
Just when his lips are a breath away you hear the rustle of hay and leaves, Bucky’s arms shooting around your waist and pulling you into his chest protectively. “What the hell was that?” You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek, and you close your eyes, too scared to open them and look. “I don’t know Bucky!” He rubs your back soothingly, keeping his eyes glued on the two dark rows of corn in front of you. “It’s ok, it’s fine,” he whispers into your hair, walking you both backward.
Another strange sound pulls your attention to the left and before you have a chance to register what it is someone jumps in front of you and screams. Bucky’s metal arm shoots out lightning quick and knocks the person down, the loud and annoyed groans of Steve echoing through the night.
“Jeez, Buck, ouch.” Shaking your head, you finally register what happened and watch as the rest of the team comes out of the shadows. Steve stands and rubs his cheek, glaring at Bucky, “you didn’t have to try to knock me out.” Bucky takes a step forward, “I had to protect my girl, you scared the shit out of us!” Steve’s glare softens and his lips turn up into a smirk, your own doing the same when he winks your way.
“Your girl huh?” Bucky clenches and unclenches his fist, opening his mouth to speak then snapping it shut. “Yea. That’s right,” he huffs out, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Thanks for interrupting us.” Everyone starts laughing, including you as you snuggle closer to him, “I’d love to be your girl, Bucky.” He beams, a cocky grin thrown Steve’s way before he leans down and cradles your jaw, “then let’s make it official.”
Maybe time stops when his lips meet yours, but the flutters in your stomach only intensify. Your heart pounding in your chest as your knees get weaker. You can only focus on how soft he feels against your mouth, how addictively he invades all your senses. The cheers of your friends die away as he parts your lips, hungry and intense and silencing all thoughts.
@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @bugsbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @buckstaybucky​ @buckys-henley​ @buckosawrus​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @buckys-minty-breath​ @bucky-on-my-mind​ @breezy1415​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @imgaril-lindru​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @lorilane33​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @lokilvrr​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @loricameback​ @lookiamtrying​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​ @tales-of-spring​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @survivor-reborn​
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wroteclassicaly · 3 years ago
Note
12 & 43 from the angst prompts with mr. andy pandy 😈🥳
Thank ya, thank ya, my lovely! ^_^ ❤️ I’m combining these two, so I hope you like it? Hehe!
Andy is a MAJOR asshole in this one! Idk, but that gets me going like nothing else, lol!
~*~
12. “You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.”
43. “You’re not someone I’ve ever understood, but I never thought I’d hate you as much as I do at this moment.”
You’d be a fucking liar with the most humerous poker face if you tried to play coy in knowing what led to your current predicament. It’s clear now that you are grasped in his sharp hooks, never to be freed to the world again. Andy Dolan fucks up his own life, so what does he do? He messes your chances up too.
“Misery loves company, baby, so I think you should get used to this.” He’d smirked, rough thumb pad stroking your wet cheek.
That was a mere seventy-two hours ago. He broke you down and convinced you that the only future you need is with him, that he won’t make it easy for you to have anything else. You’d called him a textbook definition abuser and he’d snorted, before literally snorting a fucking line.
“Nah, my lover. I’m a user. Learn the damn difference or get out. Not that you have many opportunities left.” He was hazily staring at you, getting off on his own drug induced joke.
When you’d agreed to have your potential employers come and have a meeting in Andy’s living room to look over your scripts, Andy promised he was going to be on his best behavior. And you believed him, using that newfound trust. But about halfway through your meeting hearing your boyfriend scream at his staff in the kitchen, you knew that things were going to be obliterated. Seconds later, all hell had broke loose. That and the dishes in the kitchen sink.
You’re sat here now, in the very same spot that you were earlier when Andy stumbled into the living room and began scattering your papers with a delighted sneer.
“S’ all bullshit, you know? Writers are pretentious little cunts. And this one here?” He tossed an arm around your shoulder, whisky smeared breath pouring over your flushed and humiliated face. “She is a ripe cunt if I’ve ever seen one...”
The hot tears couldn’t be stopped. Even the memory is horrifying to think back on.
“She’s okay to be right here with me. Where she belongs. I earn enough to keep her comfortable. And by the way, I am the man who pays for this house, so...” He had broken off his own dizzy sentence, Cheshire grinning himself into a stupor at your lost colleagues.
Despite your many pleas and apologies, they’d left minutes later. You remember that nasty, weighted feeling, like wet clothes clinging to your skin. You shift in discomfort, Andy’s voice still clear as day.
“You really were the worst thing to ever happen to me. I mean that.”
His pupils were dilated, that blue color abandoned at the stormy seas inside of him. He giggled, outright fucking giggled, leaving the room without an elaboration.
It’s quiet this morning, a light rain pattering the windows everytime the wind picks up. You stare a hole through your scattered works, heart having been torn out and stomped on. Andy openly mocked your vulnerabilities, your passion. And the fact that he’s probably going to assume things are okay, you’re more unsettled than you can stomach.
“Fuck me, what time is it, babe?” You hear his sleep-kissed voice coming from the kitchen as he enters into the living room.
He’s wearing a periwinkle blue robe that’s open, hair going in all different directions, his boxers tight against his freckled flesh. He rubs a hand across his face, then combs over his stubble. You don’t let him get near you, holding a palm up.
“Come near me and I will break every fucking thing in this place. Do you understand me, Andy?”
He looks momentarily confused, then spots your zoned vision. He gives a halfway grin, plopping down on the sofa beside you and picking up your shared pack of discarded smokes. He lights one and stares at you with an enriching inspection.
“I was fucked, baby. What can I say?” He crosses one leg over the other, muscles visible. He grips the outline of his thick cock to adjust.
“That you broke a promise? That you made an ass of yourself and ruined any chance that I had with my writing?” You snap back, standing to move in front of him, demanding to be heard.
Andy sighs, running a hand through his messy hair before raising to meet you, towering. He grips your waist and pulls you close, warm and messy. He lets his other arm rest out, cigarette filter pinched between his fingers. He’s nonchalant in the depth of his scorching whisper. “Maybe I can make it up to you?”
You feel as if you’ve been slapped. Stabbed even. Your gut is twisting so painfully that you can’t feel anything but the depressed anger.
“You’re a piece of shit, Andy Dolan! I can see why everyone leaves you...” You whisper the last part, woven tears coating your lips.
You shouldn’t have said it, despite his cruelty, but you do. Andy grips your forearm and spins you around, his own orbs wide and pained. It takes seconds before he reverts to his carnal state of being vile and mean. His mouth is hovering over yours, panting and strengthening. “The only future you’ll have is being stuffed by my cock. I told you that you can leave if you think you belong anywhere else. See how far you fucking get!”
He gives one last lingering pointed stare to your scripts and hits his cigarette a last time, putting the cherry out and scrubbing the butt down the finely printed paper. You’re not hiding your choking sobs or your heaving breaths, or your next choice of words.
“You’re not someone I’ve ever understood, but I never thought I’d hate you as much as I do at this moment.”
Andy tries to remain unbothered, but you know better. You continue on, wanting to hurt him the way that he’s hurting you. And you know that the only way you can do that is by leaving him alone.
“The problem is, I know the difference. And you know what, Andy? I’m out.” You don’t clarify yourself any further for him.
He tries to move towards you, cursing you and your name, his throat getting more strained and wet. You know he’s crying, which is why you force yourself to keep going, leaving him to figure out his own uncertain future. You’re not sure what yours will hold...
Angst Prompts
Andy babes tag list : @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @lovelylangdonx @fckinsupreme @littledemondani @9layerdevilfoodcake @plymptxn-reborn @jimmason @instinctsxbaby @ferndolan @infernwetrust @xavier-plymptons @xavierplympton @ritualmichael @codyfernuk @icylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @celestialrequiem @langdxn
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redgillan · 5 years ago
Text
Under Pastel Skies - 3
Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.
Word Count: 2,587
Warnings: none
A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!
Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.
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The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.
Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.
Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.
You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.
You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.
You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.
The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.
“Splotchy, I need your help.”
Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”
It was a silly nickname.
As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.
Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.
After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.
“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”
“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”
“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”
“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”
Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”
“Scott,” you sighed.
“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”
Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.
Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.
“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”
“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”
“And Wanda?”
“She sends postcards from time to time.”
The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”
“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”
You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.
If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.
The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.
“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.
“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.
You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.
He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.
Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.
“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”
“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”
He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”
“Cute,” you grinned.
“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”
You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.
“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”
“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”
Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”
Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”
“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”
“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”
You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.
Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.
You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.
“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”
It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.
“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”
You snorted. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”
After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.
You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.
You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.
You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.
After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.
You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.
You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?  
You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.
“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.
“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.
“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”
You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.
“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.
“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”
He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”
 Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.  
“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”
You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.
He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”
“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.
He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”
You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.
You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”
Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.
“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.
You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.
A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.
“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.
You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.
It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.
You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.
Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.
Part 4
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saphirered · 4 years ago
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Hey! I hope you’re doing well. You’re writing is always great and I get excited when I see you’ve posted something new. Would you consider writing a little something with platonic Caduceus and reader where they have similar personalities and interests, but different backgrounds? Maybe the reader doesn’t have any family to speak of? I’m open to any character class or race :) thank you!
I’m doing well. I’m glad you like my writing and thank you. It’s really nice to hear people get excited when I post new things. I never expected people to like it at all 🙈.  I hope you like the way this one turned out 😘
You were typical city folk. Born and raised in the heights of civilisation; the pride and joy of the Law Bearer Erathis herself. Raised at the temple of the Raven Queen as a foundling the clergy were the only parental figures you knew and they were hardly parents. Your relationship with them is less of a parent-child dynamic. They were your caretakers and supported which is more than a lot of people can say but you missed out on parental pride, love and the ability to confide in someone in such a way. You missed out on the relation with siblings. No running around the hallways of the temple, no secrets between just you and them, no protective older sibling or a younger one that gets away with everything. You had no weird aunt or uncle to tell you ridiculous stories or take you on adventures every so often like the books you’d read as a child. 
Your childhood never bothered you because it was good and happy, just in a different way. You found a mother figure in the Matron. You’d get dreams sometimes, waking up with a single black feather on your pillow. She gave you an appreciation of all things living. Death is a sacred thing but it’s the life that counts. You made it your goal to nourish that what needs a little extra attention and preserve what can be saved before its time, conforming to the natural order. The Matron of Ravens taught you death is just as sacred as life and so you valued it and vowed to upkeep her commandments and preserve that natural order of life and death. 
As a child you spent much time within the public parks and gardens. You had an affinity unrivalled. Making flowers blossom in spring and keeping the branches and roots healthy during the colder months, curing diseases, healing ailments as well as returning to the earth what once came from it upon the passing. When you were old enough these habits carried over to ‘living things’; a term you had to disagree with because all that grows lives. You became part of the clergy and continued your life within the temple of the Raven Queen. 
You were never confined to the temple life. Your work took you far and wide, your expertise wanted by the many. You had tended to the ailments of kings as you had commoner, treating no different. You had tended to the pristine gardens of royalty as you had the fields of a farmer. In the eyes of the natural order all lives are equal in the end and so you treated them in life. 
When a group of strangers came knocking at your door looking for an expert you were surprised by the colourful bunch on your doorstep but heard them out regardless. You were faced with the story of a cursed forest, a sanctuary of the natural order to be disturbed, a family missing and a new one found. A story of beacons of endless stars, possibilities and souls of the preserved to be reborn, conflict, war and death. Stories of salvation, resurrection, a fight to preserve the natural order and save the lives of the many. Stories far and wide yet to be told.
You were needed. Your expertise was needed and when a raven landed on your windowsill staring at you, studying you and awaiting your response you knew it was time to leave behind the life you knew and venture into a strange new world of adventure and the unknown. How could you turn them down? Your help was needed and while the venture might be a bit longer and much riskier than your usual ones, the task remained the same. You’d travel with the Mighty Nein for a while and aid them for however long they needed you. 
You grew to love the Mighty Nein like the family you never had but you have to say from the very beginning you felt a natural gravitation towards the colourful firbolg, a radiance akin to that of the life you vowed to preserve. Caduceus did not hide he felt a same sort of gravitation towards you. The two of you were often paired together on watches or went out together to stock up on supplies for the road, spell components and the likes. The two of you while at first glance are day and night, as your respective deities are when compared, but those who look closer know you are in a way, one and the same. 
You’re sitting on the jungle floor eyes closed listening to the nocturnal critters make their way through, searching for food, hunting and finding their hideouts, burrows and nests before the sun rises and morning comes. A smile on your face, as you take everything in over the soft snoring and slight twisting and turning of some of the Nein. You hear someone sitting down next to you. 
“Good morning.” You say peaking through one eye seeing the pink haired firbolg cup of tea in hand. The two of you had always been and probably always will be the early risers of the group. Old habits? Perhaps so.
“Ah, it is, isn’t it?” He offers you a cup of tea. You take it with a quick thanks blowing away the steam and cool it down a little before you take a sip. A good cup of tea never fails to wake you up properly. 
“How are you feeling? Getting closer to where the Wild Mother has been sending you?” The two of you look out seeing the first light barely bleed through the trees. Caduceus waits a little before speaking, contemplating his answer. His brow furrows. 
“I’m unsure.” Caduceus mentally retreats just a little bit, watching his expression you can see the thoughts rush through his head. You know he worries for his family and how you might find them. A lot is unsure at these times. You can only hope for the best and prepare for the worst but you have faith. 
“You’re worried, for your family. For what might have become of them?” He gives you a bit of a smile and nods. It’s clear Caduceus hasn’t directly been faced with the notion of mortality in this sense close to home whereas in any other situation he’d be fine. 
“I’ve been waiting to see them for a long time. While I trust the Wild Mother’s path, I can’t help but find myself doubting if they are well.” You try to find a way to best approach his concerns and ease his mind. The words of comfort either of you would offer to those coming into your respective places of worship do not apply to this situation nor would they be particularly helpful. You’re not dealing with the dead, just the possibility of death of loved ones. 
“You trust her path and you believe she’s at your side?” You ask deep in thought as a light breeze rushes through out of nowhere. The Wild Mother must be listening. Caduceus relaxes a bit more knowing she’s there. Despite what some may think, the breeze may just tell you what you need to know.
“Yes. I believe so.” He smiles watching the leaves blow, the breeze being carried away into the distance of the early morning jungle, a couple of birds scattering as it comes along. 
You take a moment, close your eyes and reach out your senses sending a little prayer to the Raven Queen. You’re met with a sense of warmth, a soft cawing of a raven flying away and a small light in the darkness. 
“Then they’ll be alright in the end. I don’t sense my Matron’s presence in relation to you. You’ll be reunited with your family once more.” You interpret the signs she shows you. While they might not be a certainty you have faith she would not let you down.
“That’s nice.” You return to staring into the jungle in comfortable silence for a while. 
“What do you miss the most? About home and your family I mean.” You ask a bit out of the blue but you couldn’t help yourself wondering with everything drawing closer and the uncertainty of how you’ll find the Stone family, and what you’ll encounter there. 
“Old habits. The people. The simplicity of life. I’d say the piece and quiet but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Just different kind of noise. You know what I mean.” Caduceus reminisces, dopey smile returning at the memory of his family. You’ve heard some of the tales of his shenanigans when it comes to his siblings. He’s confided in you and you vowed to keep those a secret. Who knew Caduceus could be quite the prankster?
“I don’t actually. I never had a family like yours. The Mighty Nein is the closest I’ve ever gotten to the meaning of a family.” You look over to the sleeping shapes. You wouldn’t trade them for the world but can’t deny it’s still not the same. The others can attest to that. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I apologise if I offended you.” You smile at him. You’d stated before you loved your found ‘family’, the clergy but they were never your real family. It just hadn’t come up your dynamic with them was not the same as a more typical even dysfunctional family. 
“It’s quite alright. I never knew my birth family. I knew the clergy at my temple and that’s alright. I always wondered what it would be like to have parents to confide in, siblings to spend time with, perhaps even share interests with and people who love me unconditionally, people like me but also not. Do you get what I mean?” Caduceus nods in agreement and thinks for a second.
“I understand. Though you might come to take back the part about wanting to spend more time with siblings. They’ll grow on you like ivy in places you don’t want it.” He laughs a little and you join him. 
“They can’t be that bad.” You joke the both of you laughing as quietly as you can trying not to wake the others up. 
“I’d love to meet your family. From what you’ve told they’re wonderful.” 
“They are, in their own ways but don’t tell Calliope I said that.” Caduceus bumps your shoulder and you bump back finishing the last of your tea. You’ve heard enough tales of Calliope to know you better not tell her or she might never let Caduceus forget he admitted it so openly to someone else outside of the family. 
“I’m sure they’d like you too. If you wanted to you could come back to the Blooming Grove with us one day. Clarabelle always wanted another sibling. She thinks Calliope is a bit too stoic. The two of you would make great friends.” Caduceus finishes his tea and you’re a little taken aback. You look for any kind of jest. He must be joking right?
“You’re serious?” Caduceus laughs a little at your reaction. 
“Unless you don’t want to. I think you’ll fit in right along. Our ancestor used to be a champion of the Raven Queen. She might appreciate the return of a new Clay. Not by blood but by heart.” You recall the story he once told about the champions Stone, Dust and Clay of the Matron. You feel a pull in your heart out of nowhere and swear you hear a raven’s caw in the back of your mind. She’d be satisfied. 
“I’d like that very much if they’ll have me.” With Caduceus reassurance his family would very much like you and get along with you you’d see where this would go. Perhaps you would become an unofficial Clay. Your friends are just your chosen family after all so why should it be different? 
You’ll see where your path leads and you’ll stick with Caduceus until either of you grow tired of each other. Not that either of you see that happen. You’ve grown thick as thieves to the point where you could call yourselves siblings. If the two of you claiming yourselves siblings extends into his family then you’d love nothing more. 
A place. A purpose. A home. You’ll have to put the world back into tune first but once the Matron and the Mother call you both home you’ll stick to the path until homeward bound you both be. Both of you lost in thought come to the same conclusion. Caduceus pours the both of you some new tea, cooling it down a bit you both take a sip.
“That’s nice.” You say in unison watching the nocturnal critters go to sleep and the early risers come out and go about their daily business. 
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biot08 · 3 years ago
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Ysayle took to her feet, startled, as she heard a loud metallic thud behind her. As she turned, she caught sight of the source of the noise.
One of the knights of Ishgard, judging from the heavy armor and the shield and the way they moved. The mysterious interloper was a tall Elezen, with purple-highlighted short-cropped hair and light brown skin. And just this moment, they were standing up next to the startled sentry who was supposed to be keeping an eye out for that sort of thing.
Not that the sentry could be blamed, really. Nobody could have anticipated that even an adventurer would be fool enough to jump from the cliff face that made up one side of their encampment, but they had, and there she was. Ysayle frowned. Such a loud entrance for a single person didn’t make any sense. Surely they would know that any advantage of surprise such a maneuver would get them would be swiftly blunted by sheer force of opposing numbers.
The sentry had been startled, and was only starting to recover their wits, reaching for a spear. The knight did not give them any such chance, as she rose from her crouch and drove the shield into them, bodily slamming them up against the cliff wall. With a pained noise, they dropped their spear. Seeing their quarry still conscious, the knight proceeded to follow up by slamming her shoulder into the back of her shield, hard. The sentry’s head slammed back into the cliff, bouncing off of it, and the knight helped them finish their journey to the ground by hitting them in the now-exposed back of the head with the pommel of her sword.
The sentry sunk to the ground, unconscious. The knight looked down at them for a long moment, then carefully stepped over the unconscious sentry, walking towards Ysayle, shield up, but sword pointed downward.
Next to Ysayle, another guard, who had been helping her take account of the crystals they had gathered thus far, edged forward cautiously, spear in hand. Ysayle held a hand out towards them as though to bar their way, and shook her head just the tiniest amount. The person looked up, a questioning look on their face, but they halted, and waited.
“Hail, knight of Ishgard,” Ysayle called out, her voice as clear as always.
“What? Oh. Oh! Right. Sorry, no. Just an adventurer. Adventurer-type. I’m from the Scions. Former knight though. House Vauban? We held one of the minor outposts near here for generations.”
The adventurer was calm, conversational. Ysayle found herself momentarily off guard at the brashness, but outwardly, her composure never wavered. She frowned, clenching a fist.
When she spoke, her voice contained velvety venom, and obvious disdain. “And what do you hope to gain here, former knight? Are you hoping to regain your title through glorious combat? Blood to water your supposed honor with?” Ysayle shifted the arm she was holding up to signal her guard to stay back, preparing to give him an entirely different signal.
“One week.”
“…what?”
“Yeah, sorry, wanted to get that bit out fast before you had your man there start in with the jabbing. About a week, that’s what I’m hoping to gain here. That’s how long Lord Drillemont thinks he’ll need to get the place fully evacuated. Snowcloak’s a lot of territory. Well, actually, he wanted two, but you people seem really good at getting crystals together.”
Former knight Vauban swept her gaze around the camp, looking at the boxes of crystals that Ysayle and her followers had already gathered. “… really good. Wow, that’s, what, a quarter of what you had last time? Already?”
Ysayle waved her hand at the remaining guard, dismissing them. The guard frowned in response, but did not question her, placing their spear on their back and walking away, leaving Ysayle and the adventurer alone. “… you are not among those who I faced last time.”
“No. Sorry. But we talk to each other, you know. It’s different, outside of Ishgard. People are less guarded, we talk to each other more. Our particular gift is not common, but it seems it’s maybe not extremely rare, either? You know. There’s a number of us. Small, exclusive club. Some of us are kind of tight knit about it. Sorry. I’m rambling. Anyway, I asked to take point on this one. So here I am.”
The knight found a box of crystals that still had its lid on it, and helped herself to sit down on it, resting her hand on the sword hilt with its tip in the ground. Still holding her shield.
Ysayle regarded the knight cooly for a long moment. “So what is the point of all these theatrics, then? If it is not blood you seek, then what? Parley?”
“Sure, let’s go with that. I mean, sort of. Well, not really. Part of it was I wanted to prove I still knew the area as well as I thought I did. You and your people have done a good job, exploiting the tunnel and ravine network. I’m impressed. Though, uh, that route that your caravan with the latest load of crystals is taking to get here? It’s so smooth on top because it’s just an ice sheet over what used to be a river ravine. Fast to travel over, generally.”
The knight leaned her sword against the box for a moment to dig around in a bag. Finding what she wanted, she pulled out an alchemical flask, and rolled it on the ground towards Ysayle.
“… Hearth’s Warmth.”
“Yeah. Common enough. You know the sort, right? Good replacement for a campfire if your wood’s garbage or you can’t find any tinder. Nice, gentle heat, spreads everywhere, scales up well. Make the right batch and arrange it right, you can heat an entire fort for a sennight. Place it in the right place in some underground ravine tunnels, and you can really mess up an ice sheet.”
Ysayle’s gaze snapped from the flask to the former knight’s face, clenching a fist and beginning to take a step forward. “The caravan-!”
“Is fine. Will be fine. Unless they’re a lot faster than I think they were. They’ll have to go around, though. It’ll take some time. Few days. Maybe even a week.”
Ysayle’s glare was fit to melt the ice the adventurer was talking about all by itself. Her hands were in fists, now. Violence seemed like it would almost be pointless. She could always summon the guard back, and all of the guard’s compatriots that would be elsewhere in the camp. For her part, the adventurer did not see to be very much bothered by the fact that she was, in fact, sitting in the center of a very dangerous position to be in.
“You said ‘part’,” said Ysayle, slowly, annunciating each word for a kind of emphasis.
“Oh yeah. Other part. I should let you know, while we’re just talking, I’ve got friends behind me, and a little thing in my back that’ll make it easier for them to travel the streams to get here. I… I don’t think I want to fight you though, Lady Iceheart. It is Lady Iceheart, right?”
Ysayle stepped back out of combat stance, standing tall, statuesque. “Lady Iceheart. Yes. I am the leader of the heretics, if that is who you seek. As I am certain you have heard, I harbor the spirit of Shiva, reborn, if that is what you came here to ask me.”
The knight was quiet for a long moment, and turned her gaze away, to look down at the ground a little bit away from her. She rubbed her fingers idly, seeming to be suddenly uncomfortable.
“You seem to be a lot of things to a lot of people, you know. Of course you know. You’re more than just a person. Even more so now, that you’ve demonstrated that neat trick with the Shiva manifestation or … whatever you want to cal it. I don’t want to argue about that, let me have that, never mind that. The point is, you know… you’re a symbol. People believe in you.”
“They are right to do so. I accept Ishgard’s tired and weary and unwanted all in kind. I accept those who want to see an end to this pointless bloodshed. Know this true, former-knight of House Vauban. I will see an end to this war.”
“Yeah? And the tired and weary of Stormcloak?”
Ysayle took a deep breath in, and let it out slow. “Unfortunate but necessary.”
The knight looked up at Ysayle, and then gestured at the place where the guard used to be. “Noticed you sent the guard away. If you hadn’t, we might not be having this conversation at all. But you did.”
“I do not spill blood needlessly, nor let it be spent on my behalf without cause, adventurer. Not every problem needs to be solved with your kinds’ particular brand of overwhelming violence. And if it does,” and at this Ysayle stood up a little taller, “I am capable of delivering it myself.”
“Yeah. Admirable, I guess,” said the knight. She still looked uncomfortable, and had not stopped fidgeting.
“…my cousin looked up to you. I don’t imagine you’d know him from anyone else, but he looked up to you. I first thought he was just lovesick again. You know how they are when they’re young. He would go on about your beautiful hair, the way you held yourself. He was careful, of course, none of us knew he was talking about you, specifically, the leader of the heretics. But it wasn’t just infatuation. No, figured that out eventually. He was a true believer. Tried to share his views with the rest of us. We didn’t listen, of course. I still think he was wrong. You haven’t exactly convinced me otherwise. But… but he believed.”
“And the Inquisition found out, and they cleared your house, and they executed some of your people? I am familiar with the tale. I do not control the Inquisition, knight, and while your misfortunes -are- unfortunate they are not from my hand.”
“Oh. I know. Not where I was going with that. I mean, you’re right, but I don’t blame you for what happened to my house. The Inquisition happened, and maybe one day there will be a reckoning for that, but that’s not your problem. No, I… I guess, what I really wanted to know, is… my cousin. Your people. You take care of them, right?”
Ysayle frowned. This adventurer was an odd sort. Certainly, she was not used to one who talked so much before getting around to introducing the pointy end to whatever problem they thought needed it.
“So you are not here to join my forces, and you are not here to eliminate them. You… just want to know… that your cousin is all right?”
“No. I mean, yes, but I don’t expect you to know that, and I know what it’s like out here, I’m not naive. I want to know… that you’re taking care of them. All of them. You lead, that’s obvious. I get that. But… do you really truly believe you’re going to end this war? And for what? For the dragons? For yourself?”
The adventurer was obviously leading the conversation to an obvious point, and Ysayle so no reason not to let them. It helped that it would be true.
“For all of us. For every Ishgardian.  And for the dragons, as well. That every drop of blood spent will be the last.”
Ysayle stood tall. Resplendent. Snow crystals floated down gently through the camp. The knight sat, continuing to fidget, slowly. Ysayle was a pillar in the storm. She always was.
She always would be.
The knight nodded to herself before slowly standing to her full height. As much a pillar as Ysayle, tall, imposing. The two faced each other in the silence of the cold winter night.
“The delay in the crystals getting here, I think that buys three, four days. Fighting you here would drain the crystals you already have. I figure that buys another two, three days. That’s a week for Lord Drillemont to fully evacuate Snowcloak. One week.”
The knight twirled her sword in her hand.
“So. We wanna do this?”
~~~
Zoissette returned to the base camp, her hair a mess, her expression tired, and her movements belying a deep exhaustion. She waved away several squires that stepped forward to offer to help, making her way to center of the camp. She dropped her shield unceremoniously into the snow next to the central fire that was burning, and then landed bodily with a thud on the ground next to it. She fought her sword belt for a few moments, and then, growing frustrated, she growled viciously at it and began to bite at the straps holding her gauntlets in place instead.
“Enjoy your climb?” said Y’sthola, barely looking up from her tome.
Zoissette stopped chewing her armor’s straps for long enough to answer. “Invigorating,” she said, before returning her teeth to their task, managing to wrest the strap free of its latch. She waved her hand in the air, trying to shake the gauntlet off rather than try to take it off properly.
Y’shtola sighed, setting her book aside, and got up, coming around the fire to grasp the gauntlet.
“I swear, you are like a child, and one I did not ask to look after.”
“Thanks for the help, mom.”
“Hnh.”
“Help me with the other one?”
“…if you insist.”
Zoissette gave Y’shtola a broad exaggerated smile, and Y’shtola rolled her eyes at Zoissette’s antics.
“You are older than many of us. Must you act like you are half that?”
Zoissette shrugged with the one shoulder. “It’s fun.”
Y’shtola got the other gauntlet off with little effort, and set it down neatly on the ground next to the first one. “Please tell me you at least managed to track down our elusive quarry.”
Zoissette’s playfulness evaporated, and she seemed to fold in on herself a bit. “Yeah. Found the crystals, too. It’ll be a problem again eventually, but for now… we can tell Lord Drillemont that he has his week.”
Y’shtola looked at Zoissette’s face with a frown. “And the Lady Shiva?”
“Handled.”
Y’shtola sat, crouched in the snow next to Zoissette. Zoissette, her hands now free of their gauntlets, set about unlatching her sword belt instead. She decided not to push the matter.
“Well… very well. We should return once you are rested, then, and inform the others.”
Zoissette just nodded. Finally free of her sword belt, she set it and its sword aside, and leaned back slowly into her shield, looking up into the sky. Y’shtola turned her gaze upward as well, and watched as snowflakes fell gently into the camp.
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smallerinfinities · 5 years ago
Text
Cake
a/n: when tipsy meets twitter, all bets are off
hello! I woke up three days ago like I’d been reborn in my love for this kid, so I wrote this filth 😅 i’ve posted a few times recently about this video but if you haven’t seen it, scroll my blog or search cake lol trust me it’s worth your time. 
(masterlist is linked in my description)
warnings: 3.9k of absolute filth
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Movie night had ended hours ago, giving way to sleepy rideshares and drunken footsteps into the second bedroom. Brian was passed out and snoring in the giant armchair across from you. The Top Gun drinking game had gone wrong at around the eighth high five and completely derailed at the sixth “Iceman,” which became a salud of sorts in the room. Beer cans, mango White Claws, and the occasional tequila bottle littered the kitchen island.
“Psst, are you awake?” a toe poked your side from above. Shawn looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow from under his crooked elbow. You’d taken residence behind his legs, resting your head on his hip to watch the movie, bowing out of getting totally trashed. Your lips were still tingly enough to be dangerous.
“Yeah,” you croaked, clearing your throat and stretching, “I’m awake.”
“Are you suuure?” he slurred, tired and tipsy. The smirk was audible, “I thought I felt you drooling through my sweatpants.” His breath came out in a whoosh when you punched him in the abs with your outstretched arm.
“How’s that for awake, fucker?!” He chuckled and caught at your hand, unfisting your fingers and playing with them as he pulled out his phone. You let him. You even opened your hand fully so he could trace little patterns on your palm.
It had been like this for a few months, the flirting, the touching. A drunken night of 20-somethings playing spin the bottle had ended with multiple people clearing their throats with wide eyes as Shawn kissed you.
My God, he had kissed you. Fingers splayed against your neck, his lips gently interlocked with yours. It started out chaste, just two mouths touching, but as soon as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, it was game over. The people, the voices, your friends, all melted away and it was just the two of you. His top lip between yours. Gentle sucking pressure. His body heat radiating onto your skin. It was everything you never knew you wanted. Until Connor clapped Shawn on the shoulder and ripped him away, turning the two of you into human embarrassed laughing emojis.
Since then, it had been like this. His hand on your lower back at the coffee shop, lazy naps together after midday movies, play fighting and fake indignation after one too many shots at the bar. Your friends all shared sideways looks and snide smirks every time you hung out but you hadn’t crossed any lines again and you definitely hadn’t talked about it. Whatever it was didn’t need conversation. It was fun. It was nothing. He was busy. He was a globally-famous popstar. You were normal. The last thing you wanted was one of those embarrassing tabloid articles, “15 Things You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’s New Fling.” So, in the quiet moments, you let him trace patterns on your palm and send shivers down to your toes.
“Hey, come up here, I’m scrolling Twitter,” he swept his fingers down to your wrist and gave it a tug, a little giddiness in his tone. He made space for you in front of him on the couch, giving you his bicep as a pillow. You settled back against his hard chest and let your legs weave into his. He’s so goddamn warm. It was a mistake wearing jean shorts to his condo. There was a part of you that wondered if he turned the A/C down on purpose but you didn’t want to think about why.
Scrolling Twitter, where Shawn saw the most fan activity, was one of your favorite pastimes. Seeing the reactions to this dude you knew in real life was occasionally shocking, sometimes horrifying, but always amusing. He held the phone out in front of you and thumbed through his feed.
Most of his mentions were about missing him. He’d been on a break since the end of his last tour, taking some time to himself without a schedule for every minute of every day. For a guy who had been taking photos with fans pretty much everyday for the last seven years, you understood why they might be freaking out. He’d broken the pattern. Thank God for that.
You tried to keep your eyes from crossing at the repeated “I miss Shawn @shawnmendes” tweets and the feeling of his alcohol-warmed fingers against your hip. I shouldn’t want this.
“Wait!” you snapped a finger at his phone, “what was that?”
“Oh, that?” he scrolled back, “it’s just an old video.” His voice broke a couple octaves on the last bit. The tweet was accompanied by the wide-eyed blushing emoji. Curious. You raised an eyebrow and watched. He was eating a guitar-shaped cake...with his hands. Mouth wide open, his face buried over and over in thick pieces of chocolate cake with some kind of blue frosting on it. It was fucking filthy. You rubbed your thighs together absent-mindedly.
“What do the comments say?” You poked at his phone before he could move it away.
“Oh, nothing really,” his voice was still high, which meant he knew what the comments likely said. You huffed and grabbed at the phone. “Shawn, you know I have Twitter, I’ll see it whether you like it or not!” You rammed your hips backward, pausing for a second when you felt something you weren’t expecting, but not for too long. He sucked in a breath, coughing, and dropped his phone—right into your waiting hands.
“Hahaha!” You jumped up and ran to the other side of the big white couch, kicking your legs in victory, “I win!” He tripped over his own oversized limbs before he got to you, falling to the floor within reach of your feet. He reached out and pulled your legs toward him, framing his face between your thighs. Your giggles stopped short and your face flamed.
“Can you assholes get a room?!” Brian was awake and fussing at the thin fleece blanket he’d scrounged off the back of the couch. He rolled over mumbling something that sounded like just fucking fuck already but you were too busy thinking about Shawn’s head still between your legs to be bothered by it.
Shawn slowly lifted his finger to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet and untangled himself to stand. He reached out a hand and you didn’t hesitate to grab it, leading you to his bedroom down the hall. You held his phone in a death grip, unwilling to let go in case he caught you off guard.
The room was dark, save for his phone, the rectangle reflecting a solid white off the wall of glass facing the city. The CN Tower lights flickered in the late night sky, seemingly suspended in midair. His unmade  bed was the biggest and brightest thing in the room. A white comforter hung half on the floor at an odd angle off the corner of the mattress, his white sheets completely exposed. The pillows were all scrunched up at the headboard, like he’d been kicking and pushing all night long. Like he hadn’t slept soundly in weeks.
“Okay, so what you’re about to read…” he shut the door behind him, scrubbing at the back of his neck, “it’s gonna be weird, but like it’s fine I’m used to it. They’re...a little invasive.” Weird? Invasive? Curiouser and curiouser…
You walked over to his bed, picking up the comforter and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed, and sat on the edge staring at the video and letting it play a few more times. Then you swiped down.
@canadianmendussy: ALEXA PLAY BIRTHDAY CAKE BY RIHANNAAAAA
@perfectlyru1n: oh my goD does he really go down like thAT?!
“Oh...my God,” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, “you’ve seen this before?”
He bounced on the mattress facedown, mumbling something into the sheets.
“What was that?” you asked, with Southern sweet tea levels of sugar. You ruffled his hair, brushing through his curls. He turned his head, his face flushed with more than just alcohol.
“I said yes, I’ve seen it before…” he opened one eye and looked up at you, “I usually just ignore them.”
There were over 400 replies on this tweet, some people chiding the horny stans for posting something Shawn can see, others just piling on.
@illuminateruin: is that cake gluten-free?
@kidinlover: @illuminateruin idk but I know pussy is
@particularbenito: CAN HE EAT PUSSY LIKE THAT?!?!?!
“Can he eat pussy like that...” you read out loud under your breath, your mind conjuring up that image of his face between your thighs. Shawn’s head shot up, eyes wide.
“What???” His face was practically magenta at this point, “is that a serious question??”
“What? Uhh, no. Not serious. A reply actually,” you rushed, giving him a sideways look. I mean...maybe it was a serious question? The curiosity was going to kill you. Oh, no. No, no, no. Your lips tingled.
“Well, I mean….can you?” You could hear the glint in your eye.
Fuck it all.
“Can I….w-what?” he stuttered, the air crackling between the two of you. He looked like a cornered animal, like the wrong move would get him killed.
“Can you,” you pushed a loose curl out of his face and nodded toward his phone, “eat pussy like that?”
Oh, God, did I just…?
“I’ve never gotten any complaints,” your head popped up at his self-satisfied tone. Gone was the red-faced shy boy talking about embarrassing fans. The Shawn in front of you was...confident. Hungry. His fingers grazed your ankles resting beside him. It didn’t escape your notice. You shivered.
It wasn’t cold.
“M-maybe they were just too afraid to tell a big, famous rockstar that he sucked,” you were the one stuttering now, face heating by the second.
“Oh, sucking was definitely part of it,” his fingers traced the indent in your calf. You refused to pull away even though you should, even though part of you—a small, shrinking part—knew that if this went where it was definitely going, things were going to change. You snuck a finger under his chin to pull his gaze to yours.
“Is that a promise?”
“I don’t know,” he flashed a toothy smile, gravity and sheer force of will pulling his body toward yours, “is that an invitation?”
I’m probably gonna regret this in the morning.
Your lips crashed into his, giving him your answer. His mouth was hot, his breathing heavy. Tongues and teeth and lips wrestled together, refusing to part while he made his way above you, crawling on hands and knees between your legs as you settled against the pillows. He licked up into your mouth just before nibbling on your bottom lip, forcing a moan from deep inside you. This was primal, the need you felt with him. Like once you came together, nothing could break you apart.
His hands moved up your body, scratching gently at your exposed legs and slipping beneath your hoodie. He broke away from your lips to shuck off your top and expose all your delicate skin. His fingers slipped beneath your lace bralette and he played with the tiny clasp between your breasts.
“Is this okay?” he asked, a little out of breath, his thin t-shirt pressing against your skin.
You nodded so quickly you thought your neck might snap. He popped the clasp and spread his calloused hands across your chest. The friction was glorious. Your body chased his fingers involuntarily, bowing up off the high thread count sheets.
“Be still, baby,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing an open mouthed kiss just above your belly button. Your eyes rolled back at the pet name, another moan escaping your lips. Warmth rushed between your legs.
“Shawn,” you gasped, trying to control your breathing so he didn’t know just how fucked you were, “when I gave you an invitation, I didn’t expect you to be late to the party.” You rocked your hips up into his chest pointedly.
“Well, I can't just jump to the entrée, can I?” He fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, loosening it with a little pop. Teasing, he licked at a freckle just above your hip before sucking at it with enough force to leave a mark.
“Fuck!” Your hands shot down to his mop of curls, fingers buried in the thick locks. He pulled and nibbled at that spot over and over, all while grazing his fingers just beneath the waistband of your simple cotton cheeky panties.
When he pulled away, an angry red violet half-moon colored the skin. He took one last lick, smiling at your gasp in response.
“I love that sound,” he sat back on his heels between your legs, looking down at your heaving chest.
“I’ll make it again if you take that shirt off,” you reached for him with grabby hands, trying to Harry Potter that shit. He laughed and did the boy thing, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck before tugging it forward off his body.
The gasp came again. Not even on purpose or because you’s promised him, but because he was so stupid gorgeous in the low light of the city you couldn’t help yourself. You’d seen him in hot tubs and at sweaty summer parties and in those fucking Calvin Klein pictures, but none of that compared to having him shirtless between your thighs just a few inches from your outstretched fingers.
His chest was flushed, some combination of adrenaline and alcohol. Little freckles dotted his lightly tanned skin all the way up his torso to the dusting of chest hair that colored his chest. His perfect pink nipples were hard against the cool air of the room, begging for you to touch or kiss or bite. Or all of the above. You reached out to trace his appendix scar where it peaked out of his low-slung sweatpants. His body danced away from you as he caught at your hand.
“Don’t,” he growled, weaving his fingers between yours and pressing his lips onto the back of your palm like a fucking Victorian gentleman. Like he wasn’t staring down at your hardening nipples thinking about how good they would feel pinched warm between his fingers. He tipped forward, bracing himself against the mattress, his mouth just a few centimeters from your skin. Dragging flesh against flesh, he left kisses at random in the valley between your breasts. Moving farther and farther down your body, he paused, sitting up on his heels.
“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy, looking straight through you, both hands hovering around the edges of your shorts. You were nodding before he even finished his question.
He curled his fingers around all the fabric in his way, denim and cotton both, and dragged the offending pieces of clothing down your legs, lifting them off and tossing them against the wall across the room. You breathed steady, looking at him looking at you. His mouth hung open in speechless wonder.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, settling back between your thighs, a mirror of his earlier pose on the couch. Another wave of heat rushed straight to your clit, silently screaming for him.
“I know,” you brushed through his curls, giving him a suggestive grin when he looked up at you, “I taste good too.”
That was all the permission he needed. A second later, he buried his face between your legs, nudging your knees over his shoulders. His tongue swirled in circles around your clit finishing in random flicks. He moaned into you, his lips closing around your swollen folds with gently sucking pressure.
“Shit, Shawn!” you shouted, praying to the gods that everyone still in the condo was too drunk and passed out to hear you. The white sheets bunched in your fists, arms spread wide. Your thighs clamped down against his ears.
He continued his licks and flicks, snaking his hands up your legs and gently prying your legs apart. You clenched hard as he pinned your thighs to the mattress, holding you open with his forearms. Filthy sounds echoed off the walls, wet sucking, moaning from both of you. He dipped his chin and circled your entrance with his tongue, lapping at you.
“Christ!” your hands shot into his damp curls. He was working hard down there, flexing and moaning and fighting your spasms. You looked down and saw his hips impatiently rutting into the mattress. It only made you wetter, gushing onto his waiting tongue. He drank everything you gave him.
“He’s not here,” he said in a low and gravelly voice, a little breathless. He pulled back, the bottom half of his face shining in the dark. His fingers toyed with your sensitive, wet lips, watching as you twitched and trembled, so close to the edge. A firm circle around your clit had your back bowing, contorting backward off the bed. A single tear rolled down your temple.
“I’m so close,” you panted, trapping his outstretched hand against your skin.
“Shawn, I need you.”
“Need me?” His fingers paused, “need me where?”
“Oh, God, don’t stop,” you choked out, a sob threatening. Your back arched up off the sheets again to find friction. “I need...I need you inside me.”
At some point between your words and the needy moan that followed, he’d removed his sweatpants and a black pair of Calvins. You heard him rustling his hand inside the bedside table followed by the metallic sound of foil and the sharp scent of latex. Thank fuck he’s prepared.
When he dropped down onto his forearms, hovering an inch from where you needed him, you were dripping onto the sheets, grinding down into the mattress waiting desperately for him. He ran his nose over your collarbone, peppering kisses along your neck. It was slow and deliberate. A fucking tease.
“Shawn,” you pulled his face up to yours, all squished between your hands, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I will…”
He pressed inside to the hilt in one swift motion, cutting off your threat.
“What are you swearing to do, princess?” he asked, a smirk and a fire in his eyes. The moan that escaped you in response was embarrassingly loud. He stilled and closed his eyes, allowing you to adjust. You took even breaths, relaxing into his hips, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. His cock was perfect. He was perfect.
I am so fucked.
He moved, slowly at first, stroking all the right places. When his hips separated from yours, pulling almost all the way out, he rutted back inside. It was deep, long thrusts touching some place inside you weren’t sure you knew was there. Your head thrashed against the pillows. Your grip on his shoulders turned sharp, clawing long red-raw marks into his pale skin.
“I’m not gonna last long,” he hissed into your ear, “fuck, you’re so tight.” His abs scraped against your body like a washboard, the tension clear in his muscles. He was wound up, ready to shatter. He crashed into you, repeatedly slapping skin against skin. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles in contrast with the punishing rhythm of his hips. He lifted one of your legs over his hip to change the angle, to make you even tighter around him. A bead of salty-sweet sweat dropped from his chest into your mouth.
“Right...there,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back, “I’m gonna come!”
“That’s right, honey,” he grunted, flattening his fingers across your clit with intense pressure, “come for me.”
The room went white. The sound of your hips colliding was replaced with a high-pitched ring. Your world seemed to implode, your muscles moving independently. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held you as he fucked you through the waves, his weight the only thing keeping you from being swept away in the current.
“Stay here with me,” he cooed, sweet but taut in his throat. Your heart slammed against your ribs in rhythm with his hips. He grunted once, twice, three times with his final thrusts and came undone, pumping into the condom. Biting down on your shoulder to stifle his sounds, he sucked hard enough to leave an angry mark. You contracted around him, both inside and out, curling around his thighs and back and neck, letting the full weight of his completely spent body bring you back to full consciousness.
“Hey,” you fingered his frizzed and fucked curls, “Shawn?”
“Hmm?” he nuzzled into your hands and squeezed you a little tighter.
“You’re crushing me,” you exhaled, strained.
“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry!”
He shifted to his side, accidentally pulling out too quickly, making both of you wince.
“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry,” he was so cute when he was scrambling. He got up and threw out the used condom, quickly returning from the adjoining bathroom with a damp cloth.
“Come here,” he held his arms out, making a perfect you-sized place in front of him. You slid into it easily and let him press the cloth between your legs, wincing again.
“Did I hurt you?” There was so much concern in his voice.
“No, no, I just…” you held onto his arm, glad to be facing away, “I haven’t been fucked like that in awhile.”
“Glad to be of service.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to see his smug smile. Reaching back, you slapped his thigh in retaliation. He caught your hand and kissed it like a Victorian gentleman again, like it made up for his cockiness. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, flushing even harder than your just-fucked body should have allowed. He wrapped his arm around your front and intertwined your legs, snuggling his face into the nape of your neck.
“So, uhhh, are we gonna do this again?” he asked, barely concealing the hope in his voice.
“Shhh,” you said, yawning for effect, “we’ll talk about it in the morning. Just sleep.”
He exhaled against your back, placing one last kiss on the mark you were sure he’d left in the midst of his orgasm. You stared out into the Toronto skyline as his breathing evened, his quiet snores barely audible against the screaming voices in your head. As the light crept into the room, as morning dawned on your sleepless night, you repeated his question over and over again.
Are we gonna do this again?
There was an easy answer: yes. Yes, yes, yes, my God, yes you were going to do this again. But there was another, harder question to answer beneath it. If we do this again, will we ever be able to stop?
***
taglist: @justanotherfangurl272  @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @fromthicctosticcc @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @shhhawnmendes @shawnsblue @imaginashawnns @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @kerwritesthings @starlightsivann @lavenderhoneymndes @begginyouformendes @fallinallincurls @shawn-youth​ @linanilssonfurberg​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @bucky-ish​
(as always let me know if you want on/off the tag list...I realize I don’t post regularly and like half of these people could be out of the fandom lol)
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