#but i am curious about what prompts this question? bc i feel like i get asked it or similar questions about jean really often relative to l | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mizunetzu · 4 years ago

Note

ok ok so my request 👉🏻👈🏻

it’s the most obvious thing but i have a full crush on bakugou, so can you please write about him x male reader, where the reader is like.. having nightmares or almost doesn’t sleep because of his quirk (idk like maybe he can hear something special or predict anything bad, doesn’t really matter) but feels safe around bakugou so he always falls asleep around him or even oN him and katsuki is like “😡(❤️)shit whatever” and the reader is kinda shy about that but totally ok with their friends being like “wow bro that’s kinda gay :> ” because he is comfortable with “oh that’s because i aM the gay✌🏻” and his classmates love him and everything and would never mock.. but one time someone from another class was really really rude bcs of that or said that katsuki hates it so the reader starts to avoid bakugou and bakugou geTS MAD about it because reader is just his and no one else’s >:0 maybe a little confession from him in the end, maybe some.. *gay coughing* angy k*ss from him

please make it angsty but with a fluffy ending please please and thank you very much in advance💙 sorry if it’s too big i can’t explain my thoughts properly thaha

Bruh I just realized how long this request is 💀💀 also look at me, writing it like decades after you requested it 😭 pls enjoy I’m actually quite proud of it (also isn’t that gif perfect hahah get it bc the prompt was abt like sleeping and bakugou’s sleeping and-yeah I’ll let u read now)

——————

Bakugou x reader - Angry Insomniacs

⚠️Warnings - mild arguing, it’s not that bad

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“Why are you always fuckin’ sleeping on me?”

It first started during the Sports Festival. The chicken race and cavalry battle really took a toll on (Y/n), and he was suffering harsh quirk drawbacks. That, being drowsiness.

Somewhere on the stands, (y/n’s) eyes grew heavier and heavier until he realized he had fallen asleep. He also didn’t realized until he woke up that no one disturbed him when he was near Bakugou. Be it fear, or just plain respect, (Y/n) seemed to get the best rest when he was with Bakugou. Not even Iida dared to wake him up when he dosed off on Bakugous shoulder.

He always made it a point to be in Bakugous vicinity when ever he could, taking naps with his head buried in his arms next to Bakugou at lunch, or having his head resting on his shoulder in the dorms.

“Oi! Don’t drift off on me!”

“Mm? Sorry, Bakugou.”

(Y/n) rubbed his eyes as he weakly pushed off the common room couch, stretching and yawning as he did so. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“N-no, dumbass! Fuck kinda question is that, shit-for-brains?!”

“I’ll see you there later then, Bakugou.” (Y/n) gave a slight nod, Bakugou practically foaming at the mouth already, before trotting off the continue his nap in his own room.

Before heading to his room though, he walked into the kitchen to grab a post-nap time snack. Tsuyu, who was already digging in the fridge, stepped back so (Y/n) could grab whatever he wanted.

Tsu eyed (Y/n’s) slightly tousled hair. “Did you take another nap on bakugou-chan? Kero.”

(Y/n) hummed out a “yes.” Tsu hummed back in acknowledgment. Kaminari and Kirishima, unintentionally, started listening in from their place in the kitchen after hearing Bakugou being mentioned.

Tsuyu put a finger to her lip. “Ne, (Y/n)-chan, why do you always take naps on Bakugou-chan? It’s always him, kero, and you go out of your way to make sure it’s only him.”

“Why?” (Y/n) pulled off the carton of milk stubbornly hanging on to the fridge. “Because I like Bakugou. Duh. And I sleep better near people I like.

Kaminari gasped comically while Kirishima sputtered and choked on his words. Not just listening anymore, Kaminari but in. “L-like? Like, ‘like’-like?!”

Kaminari and Kirishima joined Tsuyu and (Y/n) near the fridge. (Y/n) nodded out an “mm-hm.”, whilst grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“So you’re like...” Kirishima made wild, indecipherable, gestures with his hand. Eventually, after realizing no one was taking the hint, brought his voice down to a whisper.

“...like...gay..?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?!” Kaminari grasped at his blond hair. (Y/n) thought for a moment, poured himself a glass of milk, and shrugged.

“I don’t know. You never asked.”

“And you’re so comfortable just telling us now? Why, kero-kero?”

“Because I’m gay as fuuuuuck.” (Y/n) took a swig of milk like it was a shot of whiskey. “And it’s not like it was a secret or anything.”

“Though I don’t think Bakugou knows. He’s too angry about me sleepin’ on him all the time to actually care about me.”

(Y/n) polished off his glass of milk. He set the cup down gently into the sink. “Eh, it’s not like I actually care for what he thinks about me.”

“See ya, I’m gonna finish my nap.”

“Uh-bye”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye, kero.”

———

(Y/n) yawned as his head lolled off of Bakugou’s shoulder. He hissed, dusting off his shoulder angrily.

“Go sleep somewhere else!”

“I’m just goin’ to the bathroom, Bakugou, I’ll be back. Keep your shoulder warm for me.”

(Y/n) weakly stood up from his chair, and sluggishly walked out of the cafeteria. Damn, his feet felt heavy. Maybe if he hurried to the bathroom, he’d get back in time to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Bakugou exploded on him or lunch ended.

(Y/n’s) shoulder accidentally caught on someone else’s, making him stumble back and rub his shoulder. Monoma tilted his chin up in a mocking fashion.

“Ara? Is that (L/n) (Y/n) from class 1-A I see?”

(Y/n) nodded, only half processing his words as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Monoma followed somewhat behind, spewing words and one-liners that went in one ear and out the other. That is, until,

“Honestly, you would’ve thought that angry blond kid would’ve told you by now”.

(Y/n’s) ear perked up. He halted to a stop, Monoma following suit and shoving his hands smugly in his pockets. “What’s this about Bakugou?”

“Oh? He really didn’t tell you, huh? That’s...” Monoma stifled a condescending snicker. “...surprising.”

(Y/n) stepped closer. “C’mon man, tell me what?”

Monoma sighed. “Well,”

“I heard that Mr. Blasty, matter-o-factly,” Monoma jabbed his pointer finger into (Y/n’s) chest. “Really, really hates it when you sleep on, or near him. Actually,”

“I think he just hates you in general.”

(Y/n) furrowed his brows. He’s lying. He’s lying. He likes him, doesn’t he? Bakugou likes him, or else he wouldn’t have lead him on for so long, right?

Because he wouldn’t let just anyone sleep on his shoulder...right?

“You’re lying.”

“Well, believe what you want, honestly,” Monoma made a show of crossing his arms dramatically. “But you should see the way he shit-talks and glares at you in you’re sleep. It’s not like he can push you off though, you’re ‘just so persistent you’ll never leave him the fuck alone’.”

(Y/n) shoved his hands in his pockets. Monoma raised his hands in defense. “His words, not mine.”

(Y/n) turned on his heel and began to speed walk to the bathroom. Monoma yelled out from his spot in the empty hallway.

“Oh? You don’t want to hear what he thinks about your little crush on him?”

(Y/n) froze. He was under the assumption that everyone but him knew, could he be wrong? He pressed his lips into a fine line, turning around as composedly as he could. Though, he couldn’t mask the fearful curiosity in his eyes.

Monoma grinned. It was an unpleasant, sarcastic grin, one that didn’t look peaceful or pleasing at all.

“Well, I doubt that there’s anything to to say at all, so does it really ma-“

“What...what does he say about me?” (Y/n’s) voice quivered. He knew he was falling into Monoma’s trap, that he was just trying to provoke him, that he was looking for any kind of reaction, but his curiosity got the best of him. It really did, because Monoma’s words stabbed spears into (Y/n’s) heart, word by word.

“Blasty thinks it’s fucking disgusting how you like him, like, as another dude. Like honestly, he thinks you take him for an idiot for thinking he actually didn’t know! And the fact you sleep so close to him know full well you want to get in his pants?! He thinks you’re a pervert! A lazy shit! A fag! Ahahaha!”

Monoma loud cackles were cut short when he suddenly slumped over. He sunk to the ground, revealing Kendo, holding one big hand up and the other to her waist. She most likely knocked Monoma out once she heard his condescending retorts from the cafeteria.

Kendo sighed, bending down the haul Monoma’s arm over her shoulder. Her heavy glare softened once she caught sight of (Y/n’s) buggy eyed face starting at the ground where Monoma was.

“Sorry...he didn’t say anything too harsh, right?” Kendo’s words were gentle, but they sounded practically inaudible to (Y/n’s) traumatized ears.

He wordlessly staggered past her, heading back into the cafeteria to grab his lunch and sit elsewhere. He supposed he wouldn’t bother Bakugou anymore. Since he’s so damn ‘persistent’, he figured he’d stop bothering him for the rest of the day.

He wished he wasn’t so curious about what Bakugou thought of him. Like people say, ignorance is bliss. He could’ve gone his whole high school career without knowing Bakugou hated his every being. How was he going to face him in class knowing every pointer glare, every scoff, every insult was genuine?

(Y/n) felt his throat tighten. For the first time in years, (L/n) (Y/n) was fully awake.

——

It was the first time in many months that (Y/n) didn’t sit in the seat next to Bakugou, napping in his presence. He’d done it every day no fail, that is until this week. Actually, this is the 6th consecutive day he didn’t take a nap at all.

(Y/n) sat placid in his assigned seat, eyes wide and trying to keep awake. He couldn’t sleep without thinking of Bakugou, and every time he did it was always him scoffing and turning his back on him.

Every few seconds, (Y/n) would jolt harshly in his seat, rocking back and forth like a drug addict in withdrawal. He stared at his desk with eyes that could kill someone, and he dug his hands into his forearms to keep himself somewhat awake.

He didn’t hear Kirishima calling his name until he snapped his fingers infront of his face. The snap rang like a gunshot, surprising (Y/n) from his trance so badly he jolted back like he got electrocuted. Kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“You...ok man...?”

(Y/n’s) dry eyes landed fixed onto Kirishima. He relaxed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was taking. “M’fine...”

His voice cracked like it hadn’t been used for days. (Y/n) let his eyes drift back forward, hunching back over and huddling his body like he was trying to squeeze himself to death. When Kirishima gave him a skeptical glare and crossed his arms, (Y/n) let out a small “m’ just tired, that’s all...” and gave the most pathetic smile known to man.

“If you’re so tired,” Mina, rested her arms on the back of (Y/n’s) chair. “Why don’t you sleep on Bakugou like you do every morn-“

“NO! I-I can’t do that!” (Y/n) whipped his head back, gripping the back of his chair so hard his hand turned white. Mina and Kirishima flinched, noticeably caught off guard with his sudden outburst. “I...can’t...I can’t do that...”

(Y/n) suddenly looked very awake, contrasting the way he looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open the whole time they were in class.

(Y/n’s) breath steadied as he shut his mouth awkwardly. “M’sorry...for yelling...didn’t mean to...”

(Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes. The rush of adrenaline was already wearing off. Mina set her dainty pink hand on (Y/n’s) hunched form. “Why not...?”

“I just can’t.”

(Y/n) said nothing more. He went back to his occasional jolts awake and scrubbing his heavy eyes every 2 minutes. Kirishima sighed, shaking his head towards Bakugou, before shrugging his shoulders then forming an ‘X’ with his hands.

Bakugou clicked his tongue angrily, turning and facing back forward in his seat.

——

(Y/n) was practically seeing stars by the end of hero’s class.

It was a relatively simple assignment, 1 on 1 sparring, but it caused a lot of quirk use.

He fought both his tired eyes and Midoryia, but ultimately failing due to his harsh quirk drawbacks. Midoryia barely had to break a sweat to have (Y/n) come toppling down.

(Y/n) was ushered back into the horde of students murmuring “don’t mind” and “you did great!”, but he just slithered past and stood a few feet away from them, all the way in the back of the field.

All might was explaining something (Y/n) couldn’t quite hear. Not only because he was standing so far away, but because his hearing had been considerably wonky, not to mention the hissing, ringing sound irritating his eardrums.

“Oi.”

And even if the ringing had stopped and he could hear, his brain was too tuckered out to remember anything past five seconds ago.

“Oi!”

Gosh, speaking of his brain-

“OI! SHIT-FOR-BRAINS! YOU GONNA KEEP IGNORING ME OR YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDIN’ ME?!”

Bakugou set off a small explosion. The blast wasn’t nearly as loud or powerful as in combat, but to a tired mans ears, it sounded like nukes. The ringing in (Y/n’s) ears spiked, and he cupped his ears tightly.

“B-Bakugou, nows not-“

“OH, YOU TRYNA TUNE ME OUT BY COVERIN’ YOUR EARS NOW?!” Another explosion. Bakugou’s gauntlets had been out for repairs since his last hero training, so (Y/n) could clearly see the glowing red and yellow spark from his fist. The ringing spiked again. His vision burned with sparks.

(Y/n) winced, saying nothing, and brought his hands to rub at his eyes. Bakugou eyebrow twitched.

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

Bakugou brought his hand out, his gloved hand starting to glow red with his next explosion. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore.

He stumbled forward, and grabbed Bakugou’s wrist. He shoved it out of the way, but his hand still ignited and set off a blast that propelled them straight to the ground.

“G-get off-a me!” Bakugou tried pushing (Y/n) off with his free hand.

(Y/n) pinned Bakugou’s glowing right hand by the wrist, using his other to hold down his other shoulder. (Y/n) would’ve never done something as ballsy and stupid as this, but he was too tired, too done, too much in pain to care.

“What are you actually trying to say!? All that stupid extra yelling and petty insults, they get you fucking nowhere! Spit it out! Or does trying to intimidate every single fucking person you meet just self-satisfaction?!”

Bakugou growled. He grabbed at (Y/n’s) shoulders, pushing off of him and pinning (Y/n) to the ground in his place.

“Then what about you, huh?!” Bakugou was angrily spitting at (Y/n’s) face. “Why the fuck did you stop getting enough sleep for your quirk?! Are you just that dumb that you stay up at night?!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from a stupid fucker like you, who can’t even take care of himself!”

(Y/n) hissed. He freed his dominant hand from Bakugou’s vice grip and pushed at Bakugou’s face, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “All you ever do is shit talk! Shut up! No one thinks it’s fucking cool!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?!”

The two wrestled on the ground, angrily grabbing and tugging at each other, and rolling around on the floor. There were shouts of “get Aizawa-no, get midnight-sensei!” and “All might, stop them!”, but the two were so caught up in their fight they couldn’t hear anything.

“Can’t you ever learn to mind your fucking Business?!”

“What the fuck does that even have to do with this!”

(Y/n) flipped Bakugou over one more time. He pushed him down by the forehead, pushing his head down into the ground while Bakugou flailed and kicked from underneath him.

“SHUT UP! WHY DO YOU EVEN FUCKIN’ CARE, BAKUGOU?! WHY DO...w-why do...wh...”

A sweet, sweet smell flooded (Y/n’s) senses. It smelt relaxing, tantalizing, it smelled like sleep. It smelled like sleep. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so bad. Maybe he could just...

(Y/n) slowly sank from his spot on top of Bakugou, flopping on top of his body and going completely slack. Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he covered his nose.

Midnight strutted from above the two, waving away a few stray wisps of her mist. Bakugou hacked out a new breath, while (Y/n) laid on top of him, peacefully asleep for the first time in days.

“Well, it seems like you two already know without me saying it.” Midnight motioned over to two small robots carrying a stretcher. “I’ll just take him to recovery girl and he should wake up in-“

Bakugou pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around (Y/n’s) sleeping figure when Midnight extended her arm towards them. He tightened his arms around (Y/n).

“I’ll do it. S-since this piece of shit attacked me first and...I’ll just do it-!”

Midnight eyed him knowingly, before waving him off and mumbling something about ‘youth’.

——

(Y/n’s) eyes fluttered open. His body felt like it was broken in every way possible. It was so sore, it hurt even thinking about moving. (Y/n) laid there, with his eyes half open, contemplating whether or not he should close them again.

Would he be able to sleep, though? Even if he’d started sleeping near Bakugou as a ‘don’t-wake-me-up’ measure, it slowly stopped being just that and more a matter of he felt safe and comfortable around him. In a way, he’s become a bit dependent on him, which is probably a bad thing, but he didn’t care.

Sleeping with Bakugou felt best. But that wasn’t an option, now was it?

(Y/n) pursed his lips, an involuntary groan rumbling from his tired vocal cords. He continued staring at the blinding nurse office lights, staring until he saw spots in his vision.

“Stop doing that-do you wanna go fuckin’ blind?”

(Y/n) flinched. He hated the way that familiar, aggravated voice still stirred butterflies into his stomach. He glanced to his side, as if to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

He met eyes with Bakugou.

“Bout’ time you fuckin’ woke up. Been waitin’ forever, shit-for-brains.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes back up to the blinding floodlights. Bakugou scowled. “Oi! Don’t ignore m-“

“How long were you here for?”

Bakugou went silent. It was his turn to avert his eyes, albeit more angrily.

“...I was here since you fuckin’ fainted in class, idiot. I even carried your stupid body here from the dumbass carrier bots.”

(Y/n’s) eyes softened, unlike Bakugou’s, who glared at the floor just beside the chair he was sitting in. (Y/n) checked the big black clock mounted on top of Recovery Girl’s desk.

It was 6:00 pm.

If Bakugou was telling the truth, he’d been sitting there waiting for him to wake up for 4 hours straight.

“Bakugou-its been hours since class ended-you should be at the dorms by now-! Why did you-“

“Well if you told me why you suddenly started avoiding me we wouldn’t be here right now!”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. Bakugou scoffed. “Well?!”

(Y/n) opened his mouth, but it clamped shut when Monoma’s words echoed in his mind. Bakugou looked at him with an expectant face.

“I can’t tell you.”

“WH-“ Bakugou sputtered angrily. “COURSE YOU CAN! THE FUCKS STOPPING YOU!”

“Nothing I-I just can’t!”

“WHY!? WHY NOT?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

“OK AND?! I LOVE YOU TOO!”

“THEN WHATS THE PROBLEM HERE!” (Y/n) shouted, before he cupped his mouth in realization. Bakugou’s eyes went wide aswell. “Wait I didn’t mean that-“

“YEAH! WHATS THE FUCKIN PROBLEM HERE?!” Bakugou recovered from his initial shock, already back to yelling. (Y/n) furrowed his brows with a blush.

“Wh..wait so-“

“I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME, SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STOP SLEEPING ON ME?!”

“Wait but...” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t you, y’know...not like it...when I do that-?”

“DUMBASS! WHERE’D YOU GET THAT FROM?!” It seemed like Bakugou got angrier and angrier each passing second. It was hard to tell what (Y/n) found so attractive about him.

“From...from Monoma...?”

Bakugou looked angrier than ever. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “YOU-I CAN’T BELIEVE-! I-! FUCK IT!”

Bakugou snarled and practically shoved his face onto (Y/n’s), angrily stealing his breath away with a kiss. The kiss, surprisingly, was soft and gentle, despite Bakugou’s previous intensity. It seemed to calm Bakugou down, and cheer (Y/n) up.

The two slowly parted for air. It was quiet for a second, something that rarely happened near Bakugou.

“I thought you hated me...”

“W-why the fuck would I hate you...dumbass.” Bakugou rested his forehead on (Y/n’s) shoulder. His spiky tufts of blond hair tickling (Y/n’s) face.

“Because Monoma said so...?”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Bakugou snarled, climbing into the cot (Y/n) was in. He pushed (Y/n) back down into the pillow, pulling up the white blanket and laying down next to him. He guided (Y/n’s) head-a tad bit forcefully-to his chest. “...after we sleep.”

Bakugou shut his eyes, half irritated and half embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled tiredly. He nuzzled his head into Bakugou’s chest.

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

——

Extra:

Monoma walked into class 1-B the next morning. He yawned, still a bit tired, when he ran straight into someone.

“Hey, copycat fucker.”

Monoma looked up. The class was empty, with no one but Bakugou standing infront of him.

Fuck.

Needless to say, Bakugou got another 3 days of house arrest.

——————

Bru this was so long ong

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakusquad #bakugou x male reader #bakugo x male reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x y/n #mha #mha fic #bnha #bnha fic #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #mr scifijiz

2K notes · View notes

chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years ago

Text

i was an angel, looking to get f*cked hard. like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer

summary: a disaster.

warnings: like, everything. threesomes mmf and ffm. anal, like extreme anal too. oral. vaginal, and also extreme vaginal bc yikes that got crazy there for a moment. slight bondage. steve being the b e s t (imo that’s a logical warning)

word count: around 9,250

relationships: steve rogers x reader (main), andy barber x reader, mike weiss x reader, ransom drysdale x reader, robert pronge x reader, ari levinson x reader, colin shea x reader, nick vaughan x reader, frank adler, wanda maximoff x reader

a/n: i’m just discreetly dropping this mess in the cover of night lol. literally will never understand why my mind came up with this idea. but if you see this fic, who was your favorite power duo?

To you, it was just another normal day. You were on Steve’s lap, your legs draped over his, his knees pressed hard against your inner thighs to keep you open, your ass grinding down on his hard cock. With two fingers buried in your overworked pussy and a thumb rounding your clit, you couldn’t sit up on your own. You were leaned back against his chest, babbling all the while your cunt made a mess on his pants and the bed.

To Steve, well, he had other plans. “What do you think your weirdest fantasy is, doll?”

He was only asking because you were so distracted, so weak-minded in that moment to feel anything even close to shame. But the last thing you ever wanted was to hurt Steve, didn’t matter how fucked out you were.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I know you’re a beautiful woman who gets a lot of attention. It’s all right…”

“Steve?” you prompted. Why this question? Why now? And what did he mean by attention?

His mouth was at your ear when he spoke next. “You were talking in your sleep again.”

You immediately felt hot all over, and it was not because of your impending orgasm. “What did I say?”

“Some very interesting things. But I wanna hear it again. I wanna hear it now that you’re wide awake.”

You turned your head up, shivering when he didn’t stop moving his fingers. “I love you.”

“I know you do, my gorgeous girl. I always know. But I love you, too, and I want to make sure I give you everything you want. You can tell me, I would never betray your trust.”

“Well,” you squeaked, feeling like your throat was about to close, “lately…”

He curled his fingers up just right and you cried out. “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got all day. I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

“It’s just…um, lately…I’ve kind of been thinking about, like, being fucked…”

He hummed.

“By, like, a lot of people. Like…in one night.”

He scoffed. “People or men?”

“Well…”

“It’s okay,” he assured. “You want to be fucked by a lot of different cocks, yeah?”

All you could do was nod.

“That’s okay, baby. I was just curious is all. Just like you are. It’s not wrong to fantasize about that.”

“But I don’t need it, okay? I only need you.”

“I know,” he assured. “I know how much you love my cock.”

“And you.”

He nodded, smirking. “Yes, and me.”

When Steve had come home from his run several days later, you had felt him watching you. You craved him immediately because even after all these years, all the nights he had fucked you senseless, the missions the two of you couldn’t go without being connected, you still ached to be wrapped around him because you loved him so much.

He kissed you slowly, pointedly before he went to take a shower. You went to his bedroom several minutes later and waited for him on his bed. You stripped down to nothing but your bra and panties.

You knew he heard you come in and he heard you drop your clothing, he heard you climb on the bed, and he could hear you breathing. You were certain he could smell you, too. You were drenched just thinking about fucking him. It was unnatural how badly you wanted Steve sometimes.

He came out without a towel, water dripping onto the floor.

You scoffed. “Baby, stop making a mess.”

“Don’t be hypocritical, doll. You’re about to make a mess of the bed.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Still soaking wet, he approached the bed carefully. He showed zero hesitation as he laid himself on top of you.

You laughed. “Steve, you’re getting water everywhere!”

He didn’t care, he just kissed you, filthy, all tongue, moaning into your open mouth. His hands slid up and down your torso, your hips, your thighs, never touching you quite where you wanted him to.

You felt his cock between your bodies, already hard. You attempted to reach down to move your underwear aside, but he caught both of your hands and pinned them to the mattress over your head.

He broke the kiss to stare down at you.

“Well, are you going to make me make a mess, or what?”

“I have something new I wanna try, doll.”

You scoffed. “New? Is there anything you haven’t done to me yet?”

He looked excited to answer the question, but knew if he started to think about it, this situation would quickly spiral out of his control. “Well, remember how Wanda took an entire town hostage?”

Your mouth dropped. “I don’t think we’re supposed to talk about that.”

“Oh, she’s fine now. That’s what therapy is for.”

“Okay, but your point is?”

“She’s gotten much better at using those powers.”

“Like…the mental stuff? Like…” You hated to use these negative terms because you hardly blamed Wanda for everything that went down, but until Bruce had come up with the sensitive script, you were all just going in blind. “Like, mind control?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me how that’s relevant right now, Steven.”

“Better at mind control, better at…creating worlds. It doesn’t even have to be out here anymore, she could get inside your mind and make you think you were living a life that she completely made up.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I asked her for a little help. You remember what we talked about the other day? How you want to get fucked by different men?”

“That is not what I said because I definitely do not want that.”

“You don’t want to get fucked by other men, in reality. In a world created by Wanda, however…”

“Steve, I don’t—”

“Just try it with me. She’s gonna come in here, you’re going to let her in that gorgeous head of yours. I’ll be there with you the entire time.”

“How will I know it’s really you?”

“I promise, baby. That’s what she said. She can do that, she can put us both in one little world that no one can interrupt us in.”

“So…who’s fucking me? Because if it’s Bucky, that is so weak, Steve. We can have a threesome in real life, grow up.”

“Nope. No one on the team.”

You were immeasurably confused then. “Do you even know other people?”

“I know you inside and out, and I know who you want to fuck.”

“You think there’s anyone in this world that I think compares to you?”

“In this world? Oh, no. Hang on, I’m gonna get dressed and then I’ll get Wanda.”

It was clear then that he wasn’t going to tell you a thing. Steve could be elaborate when he wanted to and his “in this world” comment was starting to scare you. If not this world, what world?

You watched him finally dry off and slip into a simple t-shirt and jeans. Shamelessly, your eyes moved over his body, thighs rubbing together when he tucked his cock into his pants.

“You touch yourself and this isn’t going to be as pleasant as I wanted it to be.”

You lifted both hands to the headboard. “They won’t move, I promise.”

He moved over you again, kissing your forehead. “You know how much I enjoy rewarding you when you’re a good girl.”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll be right back.”

When he returned with Wanda, you were trying not to think about how weird this was. You loved Wanda and yes, you were both comfortable enough that you’d been naked together. But in a sexual way? Never happened. This was obviously sexual. How did he talk her into this? Probably an early birthday present.

“Lie down next to her,” she directed.

You moved over a little, finally placing your arms back down to your sides. He got on the bed next to you, turning his head to kiss your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile, some of those twisting nervous feelings were starting to get quieter now that he was so close to you.

Wanda sat down next to you. “Are you calm?”

“Not really,” you admitted.

“You need to be calm,” she instructed. “Just close your eyes.”

You did so, mindful of your breathing and trying not to let your thoughts get ahead of you.

“You should probably tell her who she’s going to see,” Wanda recommended. “She’s going to panic there and ruin this whole thing.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but she is the worst about this stuff. I can never manage it.” He took one of your hands in his, his fingers sliding between yours. “Baby, remain calm.”

“Okay…”

“You know that actor you’re so in love with?”

You immediately sat up, staring at him with wide eyes. “What?!”

He sighed at you and reminded, “Calm.”

“How does anyone stay calm after that, Steve?”

“Lie back down now,” he directed, and you did so with a sigh. “Now, you made me watch many of his movies and that one show... who else would I let fuck my girlfriend?”

“This is weird.”

“No, this is fictional, meaning that it’s not real. Meaning that yes, you’re going to feel like you’re getting fucked by different men, but you’re not going to be. This is the only way I can accept this fantasy of yours.”

You looked at Wanda. “How is this even going to work?”

“So, your thoughts and opinions about these characters will influence their behavior. Think of it like I’m a spider, spinning a web with your thoughts.”

“And you’re the prey caught in the web,” Steve tried.

Wanda gave him a flat look. “No.”

You snorted. “Okay, so…it’s all just what I think they would do?”

She nodded.

“And you promise Steve will really be there with me?”

“I promise.”

“Like, it will really be Steve? Not just some imaginary Steve of my mind?”

“Honey, I brought my boyfriend back from the dead and kept him with me in a town for a very long time. I think I can manage you and Steve for a few hours.”

Steve lifted your joined hands and kissed the back of your palm.

You turned to look at him.

“I promise I’ll be there the entire time. No one, not even a fictional man will touch you without my permission.”

You snorted. “And mine?”

He smiled. “Right. That was what I meant.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Mostly, what you will experience will be based on your mind. But Steve will be there too, equally part of this, so I can also take feedback from him. If he wants someone to do something to you, I’ll know, and I can make it happen. You’ll know it’s really him then, won’t you?”

Yes, more than likely. Steve certainly had a very specific style in the bedroom.

“Okay, so just relax for me,” Wanda tried again.

Steve kissed your hand again and you settled back down on your pillow. You once more paid special attention to the steadiness of your breathing and tried to quiet your racing mind.

“Okay, just focus on my voice,” Wanda said. “I’m going to count down.” She pressed her fingers to your temple lightly and began at 10.

The next thing you knew, you were in a dimly lit room, naked and lying on a leather surface. Your legs were open, ankles bound, and your hands were tied together over your head, also wrapped around something you could not see. You were spread out and on display, incapable of even moving an inch on your own.

“You good, baby?”

You looked up where Steve’s voice sounded. He was naked as well; you could see all that muscle you always enjoyed even with the dull lights. “I’m good.”

“You okay with being tied up?”

“I think so.”

“At any point, you want to stop, just say my name.”

“Just your name?”

“You want me to stop, yes, say my name.” He started walking along the table, his hand coming out to trail down the side of your body. “But if you want me to keep going, you can call me daddy.”

You scoffed. A group-sex kink and a daddy kink all in one day? “Wow, you’re just going all out, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you think this is my fantasy? You said a lot the other night.”

“You could have woken me up. That is such an invasion of privacy.”

“If I had woken you up, this wouldn’t be happening. I have no regrets, doll.” He climbed onto the table, hands settling on your hips. On his knees, he briefly leaned over you as he pulled your hips up off the table, slowly sliding his cock inside you.

You tossed your head back, pulling on the ropes around your wrists. “Fuck.”

“Fuck?” he promoted, voice thick and gravelly.

You laughed breathily, still adjusting around him. “Fuck, daddy.”

He hummed. “Such a good girl.”

“Are you going to make me come for being so good?”

“You’re not entirely good,” he countered. He reached up, hand closing around your jaw so he could turn your attention to the side.

Standing along the wall were several fictional characters that you had proclaimed your love for at least several hundred times to Steve. He was never huffy about it because he knew you loved him, but you figured that might change after this…

They were silent, simply watching. It was odd to think about how they were just there, how it felt so real even though you knew it wasn’t.

“The murderer, seriously?” he pressed.

There were two, in fact. Ransom Drysdale was the first one you noticed. You were weak, what could you say? Then Robert Pronge. That had to be a new low. He was a terrible man, you knew that.

“I’m…sorry?”

“You will be,” he promised.

“But there are also lawyers,” you pointed out.

“One of them is an addict.”

But today, you were the only thing that beautiful man was going to be addicted to. You spared Steve from hearing that, though.

“Let me look at you,” you requested, and he turned you back to him. “Make me come, daddy.”

He let his hand slide down to your neck, fingers curling just slightly as his hips began to steadily move. His cock drove in and out of your pussy, the wet noise of it echoing around the whole room.

Your head was already swimming, perhaps the concept that people were watching you get fucked. People, even if they weren’t real, were watching Steve play your body like an instrument he’d known his whole life.

Eyes locked on yours, he fucked you until you were both coming together. His hips were erratic as soon as you tightened around him. He pleaded with you to wait for him, and you held on for as long as you could.

He squeezed his hand tight as soon as you opened your mouth to scream. Your orgasm was built up by him choking you, and the strangled sounds you made went straight to his cock. You felt him spill into you and your eyes rolled back. That was a feeling you would never tire of.

He was still hard as he pulled out, some of his cum dripping down his length. He took himself in his hand and rubbed his cum all over your stomach, leaving your skin sticky.

You smiled. “Thank you, daddy.”

He leaned over you, reaching for your hands. “I’m gonna let you loose a little.” Your wrists were still wrapped together but you could now bring your arms down just a little. You could grab what you wanted and that was his intent.

“You still good?”

“Yes.”

“Remember…”

“Your name,” you confirmed.

“We’re gonna take it easy for a minute, okay? Two at a time sound good?”

“Yeah.” You’d never been fucked by two men at one time, and you had been sure it was never going to happen. When you met Steve, you knew you were done. You knew that you could never again touch another man or let them touch you. But there you were, and he wanted this almost as much as you. He wanted to watch you enjoy yourself and you just had to remember that.

He stepped off the table and moved off to the side. “We’re going to start with the lawyers.”

You turned your head as Mike Weiss and Andy Barber moved from their places against the wall. Mike was more confident; he went straight to the end of the table and began moving his pants out of the way.

Andy was less confident, unsure of what to do. You grabbed his belt and pulled him toward you. Mike got up on the table, his hands sliding up your thighs as neared your pussy. You turned down to watch him, shivering. He didn’t feel like Steve and you couldn’t help but notice.

“It’s okay, baby,” Steve promised. “Just let it happen. It’ll stop being so weird soon enough.”

You looked at him briefly and he nodded reassuringly. Your hands began working Andy’s belt open, but you turned back to Mike. He had one hand around his thick cock as he moved it closer to your entrance. You watched as he slipped into you, mouth dropped as you reveled in every inch that filled you up.

You impatiently yanked Andy’s pants down when you could and turned up as he pulled himself out of his boxers. It was big enough that your mouth instinctively fell open, desperate to choke on him. He was so slow about sliding in, eyes never leaving your face.

Mike pulled out until just the head of his cock was inside you and thrust back in quickly. You moaned around Andy’s cock and he let out a shaky breath. His hands closed around your breasts just as Mike’s fingers found your clit.

You were whining and whimpering already, bobbing your head up and down Andy’s length while Mike touched the most sensitive part of you. His cock felt like it was getting deeper and deeper, hitting a spot inside you that was making your vision blur each time.

Andy’s fingers began pinching at your nipples until it was painful. That was all Steve, he always loved doing that to you. Then one of his hands whipped across your breast sharply, noisily. You whined around him and so he did it again.

Mike angled his hand so he could slap his fingers against your cunt, an unbearable amount of pressure on your clit. Your eyes filled with tears, your body shaking with your approaching orgasm.

Andy alternated between squeezing and slapping your skin, never moving his hips. He let you work his cock freely, sighing when you took him down your throat, grunting when you teased him by sucking just the tip of him between your lips.

Mike moaned shamelessly as your cunt tightened around him. He fucked you faster, hitting you harder until you were practically sobbing. He timed it correctly, smacking your clit each time he wanted your hips to jerk so he could slide in even deeper.

You finished while you were choking on Andy’s cock, your overwhelmed cries of pleasure an added sensation for him. Mike followed soon after, keeping himself buried in you as he rubbed his fingers around your clit. You shuddered the entire time, aftershocks wracking your whole body.

Andy was next, pulling out of your mouth and stroking himself until his cum painted your breasts. He quickly gathered some of it on the tips of his fingers, leaning down as he shoved them into your mouth.

And before you could even gain your composure, they were switching positions. Andy took your hips carefully, slipping into you with consideration for how sensitive he knew you would be.

You threw your head back, whining.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve wondered.

“No, no. I’m okay,” you promised. It took you a moment to adjust to Andy, but he was patient. You turned your head and Mike touched your face. He moved your hair away from your eyes and traced your features until you looked up at him.

“Open up, sweetheart.”

You did so immediately.

He pressed the head of his cock against your tongue and slid in until you gagged. You could easily identify the taste of Steve’s cum that had been left in your pussy.

Andy reached under your body and held your ass for leverage, pounding into you. Your core ached but you craved so much more. Steve knew how to fuck you all night, he knew how to pace himself. These men had no idea about your body at all, they were just using you. Though you didn’t want this often, you enjoyed being objectified like this.

Mike rocked his hips but never too hard, never enough to choke you. If you wanted that, you had to take as much of him as you could. He hissed curses each time, brushing his fingers through your hair and touching your cheek. “Just like, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

You stared up at him until he was coming down your throat. He held a handful of your hair, but you moved up and down, despite the pull you felt on your scalp. Of course, he didn’t taste like Steve, but you didn’t dwell on that. He was the one who pulled away and began getting redressed as you turned down to Andy.

He pulled his hands out from under you and set them higher up on the table. His body hovered over yours and you longed to be able to touch him. You figured that was what Steve wanted to avoid in tying you up. Regardless of this, he was such a possessive man.

His hips moved sharply, always making it hurt at least a little. As you neared your end, you arched your back and he sat up once more to grab your breasts. He squeezed them tight, smacked them now and then, yanked on your nipples incessantly until you were screaming and coming.

This time he finished inside you and you shivered. The thought of every single man in the room leaving their cum inside was filthy and you wanted it so badly it hurt. Your gaze followed him as he pulled out and readjusted his clothing, head turning to see him take his place at the wall again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want some alone time with that one?” Steve asked.

Smirking, you turned back to him. “Jealous yet, daddy?”

“Not at all.” He made his way to your side, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “And are you still okay?”

You nodded.

“Ready for another round?”

“Yes, please.”

He hummed, glancing over the wall as he moved back. “I guess the psychopaths are up.”

“Don’t call them that,” you feigned offense.

He rolled his eyes. “We need to talk about your sexual interests later.”

Ransom walked right up to you, one hand grabbing your jaw and the other pulling his cock out. He pulled you onto him immediately, groaning as he felt your throat struggling around him.

Robert did the same with your pussy, with no hesitation or sensitivity. He was slow enough about it, but you knew that we because he was teasing you not because he wanted to let you get used to him.

They kept you full for a moment, completely buried in your mouth and cunt. You were choking loudly, hips squirming at the sting, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, they both pulled out. You laid there, gasping and shaking, and they simply watched. You briefly wondered how much of this was you and how much of it was Steve. Did he want to watch you get used by two cruel, violent men?

Together, they fucked your mouth and pussy. They thrust in together, pulled out together, and both decided when soft and slow weren’t working anymore. They were merciless and neither one finished until you were crying and sweating. Tears stained your face, drool was everywhere, and every time Robert let you down on the table, you felt how wet you’d managed to get it.

Ransom was first. He held you down until you swallowed all his cum, and then pulled out and moved down to your breasts. He had to wait until Robert was done, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have fun. He jerked himself off, tapping the head of his cock against your breasts.

You had come twice when Robert finally finished. He pulled out and leaned down just to firmly lick over your clit. You shuddered, a surprised squeal tearing from your throat. You were exhausted and it was clear, but that didn’t stop either of them.

“Baby?” Steve checked.

“No,” was all you said before you opened your mouth for Robert. He placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling you down onto him roughly. You gagged hard enough that your entire body moved. It was something that made his eyes light up, something he would make you do again.

Ransom rubbed his fingers over your clit until you were just about to finish then completely backed off. Since your mouth was full, you couldn’t even complain. Not when he did it the second time or the third time. And your scream was muffled when he took you so close that fourth time and instead of making you come, shoved his cock into your clenching center.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You are so tight, gorgeous.” He set his hand to your stomach and fucked you hard. Your body was sliding against the leather, constantly pulled down by the ropes at your ankles. You were never able to get too far from Ransom.

Robert was harsher as his finish approached. He had you gagging and choking, drooling all over his cock. “Keep your mouth wide for me, honey.”

You did so, staying as open as you could. He would pull out all the way just to shove back in until your nose was pressing into his pelvis. The wet noises of your throat filled the room, even louder than your soaking cunt Ransom was pounding into.

Robert pulled out of your mouth and walked around the table until he reached your hands. You knew what he wanted right away and circled both hands around his length. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. “Open.”

You did even though you knew Steve wouldn’t like what was coming next. He spit into your mouth and you eagerly swallowed. Then you rolled your head back and kept your mouth open for his cum as he fucked your hands. His cum poured out from his cock, most landing in your mouth or on your jaw.

Ransom was close but insisted on dragging it out. He would pull his cock out and smack it against your clit before thrusting back in completely, over and over, until both of you were orgasming.

At this time, Robert was licking your face to gather up all of his cum. Again, he spit all of it into your open mouth. Once both men left you to return to their spots at the wall, Steve was at your side.

“Are you serious?”

You scoffed weakly. “Who next?”

“So, can I spit it your mouth or is that just a thing you let murderers do?”

You opened your mouth instead of offering a spoken answer.

He sighed. “Doesn’t count after he did it. I’ll try it later.”

“Who next? I do have a preference. Like, if you wanted any suggestions.”

He merely rolled his eyes and moved away as Ari Levinson and Colin Shea came closer to you. Ari moved to the foot of the table, but Colin leaned over you in your side, lips crashing down on yours.

Steve was stunned silent for a moment before he cleared his throat. Not that that stopped the man from shoving his tongue down your throat. “Okay, that stops now, or this entire thing stops.”

Colin pulled back, smirking smugly.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Doll,” Steve scolded.

“I didn’t know he was going to kiss me!” you defended. Before the conversation could get much further, Colin had his cock out. He tapped it along your jaw until you stuck your tongue out.

Ari had climbed onto the table, but he wasn’t inside you. Not yet. Instead, he leaned over you, starting with kissing your neck and moving down your throat to your collarbone, your breasts, paying special attention to your nipples and then the curve of your breasts, your ribs, down the center of your stomach, under your navel, all around your cunt, but never right there.

Finally, he pressed his cock into you, and you hummed around Colin. “Fuck,” they both sighed. You would have had the same reaction if you could have.

Ari didn’t want to waste time, he wanted to see you come. As his hips moved, he massaged gentle circles around your clit. You were already sensitive because of your last orgasms but this man knew just how to touch you. He was using the right pace and pressure, so you figured that was Steve’s doing, not yours.

But any time Ari was close, his hips would still, and he would use his fingers to get you off. He liked feeling your pussy coming around him, and his goal was to make it happen as many times as he possibly could.

Colin was enjoying your mouth, letting you bob your head back and forth on your own. He liked watching your eyes, they moved between his cock and his face. “You’re doing so well, babe.” And when your eyes flickered up to him in surprise, he knew he’d caught something. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, and you’re taking my cock so well. Such a good girl.”

Ari used all the time he could, paying attention to Colin as well. He wasn’t moving until Colin needed to fuck you, and both men seemed happy making this last as long as they could. He made you come so many times you lost count, but you figured Steve would let you know later.

You wondered how many good-girl points you’d lost. He would undoubtedly be bending you over his knee and smacking your ass until it was sore, but how many times did he plan on doing it? You were guessing at least three situations he would feel it was warranted.

When Ari was coming, he grabbed onto your hips desperately. You felt his eyes on your face even though you couldn’t look at him. He held you tight as he was coming down, slowly thrusting his hips, making sure to reach that deep spot inside you.

Colin only grabbed your hair when he was finishing. He yanked you back, angling your head, and fucked your mouth until he had come back down. The entire time, Ari thumbed at your clit gently.

When they switched positions, you had the overwhelming desire to kiss Ari. Steve had shaved his beard off so long ago and if you sent him the right puppy-eyes look…

“Fine,” he sighed. “Never shaving again,” but he muttered that to himself.

Ari dropped down to his knees and kissed you eagerly. You felt his beard pricking at your skin and couldn’t help but smile. Damn. You missed Steve’s beard.

Colin used his fingers to spread your cunt wide open, groaning as he watched his cock disappear inside you. Relentlessly, he fucked you, and you were pathetically loud because there wasn’t a cock in your mouth shutting you up.

Ari touched your face and your breasts, and you reveled in how rough his hands felt against your skin. He pulled away and kissed all over your face before he stood up.

You took in as much of him as you could, which was a lot since you’d had your throat stretched impossibly the entire night. But you still gagged and because Ari was much sweeter than the rest, he took it slow after that. He didn’t necessarily want to hear you gag, he liked it of course, but he wanted you to enjoy sucking his cock.

And you did. You had your lips wrapped around him the whole time, pulling back slow, dripping back down the same way. Your eyes were locked on his and this man looked wrecked. His fingertips ran along your face and he whispered curses and nonsense about your beauty.

Colin set his fingers to your clit when he was close. It took you there almost instantly and he didn’t care. He continued fucking you, the noise of it louder with his cum added into the mix. You were overflowing with it by now, and you still wanted so much more. He didn’t mind that you were shuddering and whining, and Ari liked the vibrations of it, too. Colin just kept moving until Ari finished with a soft moan.

Nick Vaughn and Frank Adler were next. You were shivering over the mere thought of these soft men. As soon as Colin and Ari had left your side, they were right there.

Frank started at your mouth. He lifted his cock, and you showered his sac with attention. He used his free hand to fondle your breasts. Nick was kissing your legs. He had his hands settled on your knees before he let them slide up, along with his lips. He let them graze your skin until he reached your core. He kissed all around your sensitive skin, but never right there.

You hadn’t noticed at first, but he untied your legs and brought them up as he got on the table. He bent your knees, setting your feet flat on the leather and gently sunk into you. Your legs pressed against his sides before winding around him and hooking at the ankles.

Only when Frank finally let you have his cock did he also start untying you. As you struggled to hold his entire length in your mouth, he was pulling your arms down, but kept your wrists tied. He kissed your hands and arms all over as he used your mouth.

They let their hands wander your entire body. You didn’t know which one was where, but your breasts were never neglected, your clit was constantly stimulated, and your finish happened in record time.

They were so unlike the rest, even unlike Steve, they finished so quietly, so slowly. It was the gentlest you had ever been fucked and you liked it, of course, but when this was all over, you were going to beg Steve to give it to you hard until you were crying and couldn’t walk straight.

They traded places and you swallowed Nick’s cock eagerly, still high on your orgasm. You reached for him blindly and he took your hands in his. He kissed your fingers as you worked.

Frank slammed into you painfully and you moaned loudly. He carefully pulled you down to the edge of the table and Nick followed, his cock never once leaving your mouth. Frank pulled your calves over his shoulders, grabbed your thighs, and fucked you hard and loud and desperately. Slapping skin, your soaking cunt, they were both softly groaning, and you were certain you were fucking dying. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had been fucked too many times, you couldn’t handle another orgasm.

But Frank tore it out of you and all the noise you made coaxed Nick to an easy finish, was then they both started to kiss you again. Frank pulled out of you first, then Nick, and you dipped your fingers into your cunt, cum just poured out of you.

“Put them in your mouth,” Steve ordered, and you did so instantly. You hummed, noisily sucking your fingers clean. It tasted weird, so many unfamiliar men, but you could still pick out Steve’s taste. His cum still lingered inside you and you loved that.

Frank began picking you up off the table. You were confused for a moment before he sat down where you had been and pulled you back down on his cock.

“Daddy?” you called out. Was he okay with this next part?

“It’s okay, angel. Unless you need a minute.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Frank laid back and you began to unbutton his shirt. It was a hard task with bound hands, so he eventually took pity on you and did it himself.

You heard Nick getting undressed as well but until he was behind you, you had not put two and two together.

“This is okay?” Steve checked again, just to be safe.

“Yes,” you squeaked. The head of Nick’s cock touched your asshole and you stilled completely. Almost effortlessly, he pushed into you, unrealistic, but the feeling was too good to complain. God, you would never be able to adequately repay Wanda.

Nick grabbed one side of your hip, Frank the other, and they pulled down hard, away from the other. It was like they were fighting, struggling to keep you closer to them and only them.

You couldn’t process anything other than how full you felt. You were aching and overused, but you couldn’t even attempt to form the words that you needed a break. Your mind wanted one, but your body was still painfully desperate for more.

You finished hard, your entire body tensing, and something just snapped. It felt just like any other orgasm, but as you settled on Frank’s lap, you felt how wet he was. Everything was a blur as they pulled out of you and you were waiting for the next pair.

Ari was already naked when he carefully urged you off the table. You let your hands touch his stomach first and he let you have your fun as he set his ass just on the edge of the table. His cock was still hard, and he easily worked your legs over his hips until you were standing on your toes, trying to stay there because it already hurt how deep inside you he was.

He took pity on you, grasping your ass and spreading you open. You leaned forward just slightly and he kissed you. That was not your plan, you simply needed to place your hands on the table for balance, but you had zero complaints.

Of course, Colin, practically a frat bro, wanted to fuck your ass. You swore he was harder than before as you felt him shoving his cock inside you. You moaned into Ari’s mouth and his hips jumped up just a little. You cried out but he continued to do it several more times before Colin’s pelvis was pressed flush to your ass.

They held you in place as they fucked you. It wasn’t like the last time, slow, aching, fucking passionate. This was torture, they were using you and you couldn’t get away, not that you could make yourself want to, not that these sensations weren’t driving you insane.

Colin grabbed your hair and pulled you back, turning your head to him so he could stare into your eyes. “Your ass is so tight, baby.”

All you could do is whimper.

“Is he making you feel good?” Steve questioned.

“Yes.”

“Tell him. Tell him how much you like his cock.”

“Your cock feels so good,” you blurted out.

Colin kissed the side of your face. “I know.”

“It’s so fucking big,” you asserted, very much sounding like you were pouting about it.

“What about the other one?” Steve encouraged.

You faced Ari again, his eyes were washing over your whole body hungrily. You touched his torso again, his chest and his abs. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded quickly. “Like having you in my pussy.”

Your next orgasm was no gentler than the last. It was numbing and overwhelming, but you knew that you were nowhere near done. You were on your knees on the table, waiting for the next two men. Your cunt was dripping with all the cum that had been poured into you and you were sweating and shaking.

“Want a break now?”

“No.”

“The psychopaths are next,” he pointed out.

“No,” you insisted.

Ransom grabbed you first, turning you over so that you were sitting again. “You should probably listen to him.”

You shook your head.

He smirked and pulled you off, forcing you to stand. He never let you go because he worried you would fall, but he enjoyed seeing how shaky your legs were. He sat down and turned you away from him. “Sit on my cock, baby girl.”

You carefully situated yourself over his lap and despite his directions, he helped you a lot. He pressed into you initially but reveled in you sliding down the rest of the way until you were flat against him. He spread your legs and Robert immediately moved in. He filled you up quickly, and you were suddenly so impossibly full again. It didn’t matter that this was the third time, it was devastating, and you were exhausted and aching.

Ransom stood with you, forcing you closer to Robert. You started at his hair, grabbing handfuls, and yanking him in for a kiss. Ransom moved your hair out of his way and began biting one side of your neck and the shoulder nearest. They fucked you without rhythm or cohesion, they fucked you like they were competing.

“Tell them you’re enjoying yourself, doll,” Steve reminded.

Ransom pulled you back against his chest, hands grabbing at your breasts again. “Yeah, am I big?”

You whimpered and nodded.

He slammed into you harder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So big. I don’t think anything else could fit.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he muttered.

You didn’t have the mind to question him. You simply turned forward.

Robert smirked. “You like my cock, princess?”

You nodded fast, grabbing his hand to bring his fingers to your clit. “Make me come around your cock. Please make me come.”

Both men became even more unhinged. You hadn’t thought that was possible. They trapped you between their bodies and all you could do was take it. You had to take Ransom mercilessly fucking your ass, Robert rubbing your clit and cruelly fucking your pussy even as it got tighter. You screamed so loud that by the time you all finished, your voice was hoarse.

But oh, they were not done with you. Ransom pulled you onto the table with him, Robert’s cock slipping out. Both men were amused by your sad whimper. Ransom yanked legs open for Robert. “You heard her. She thinks nothing else can fit.”

Holy fuck, he did not mean…

Robert stepped closer, hand resting against your cunt as he began forcing his cock into your ass, next to Ransom’s.

“Relax, baby,” Steve said. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”

You were on fire as soon as the tip of his cock was inside you. You were shaking and panting, and you felt possessed. It was horrifying how badly you wanted him to keep going, until he was buried in you. With every push forward, every additional inch he fed you, you thought you would pass out. You’d never felt pleasure so intense.

As soon as his cock was settled deep inside you, they were moving. They were thrusting in and out of you and you were coming almost immediately. Your cunt was clenching around nothing, so desperate for a cock. Both Ransom and Robert were abruptly happy your pussy had been neglected because on one particularly good thrust, your pussy wept, leaving both men drenched.

“Fuck, baby,” Robert muttered, reaching out to touch your face. You touched his body, hands grazing his stomach, his ass, up his back, down his shoulders.

“Think you can do that again?” Ransom inquired.

You shook your head, unable to form words.

He hummed. “Don’t sell yourself short, I think you can.” He moved you up by the hips and you cried out when you were suddenly left empty. Ransom quickly replaced three of his fingers in your ass, shushing you as you squeaked and whined unintelligibly. He took his cock in his other hand and shoved it into your pussy.

Your eyes widened as Robert stepped in again. Oh fuck, you were already shivering and throbbing with the desire to have your cunt as full as they just had your ass.

He wasn’t slow about this, and you were wet enough that it didn’t hurt as much as the last time. Again, their cocks moved in and out of your hole, and with Ransom’s fingers still working you, you knew he was going to make it happen.

You’d squirted several times and Steve fucking loved it, but it was a mystery to you both how it happened. He never could quite master controlling it. But you felt that familiar pressure in your stomach just piling up so high until you burst, and your pussy once again made a huge mess everywhere.

Ransom laid you out carefully on the table as they were departing. He kissed your face all over and told you how much he liked fucking all three of your holes. You suddenly realized that Steve had taken this over long ago and his fake jealousy was just an act so you wouldn’t suspect him. You only had so long to plot revenge before you were occupied once more.

Andy picked you up gently, making sure he had you held tightly as he situated himself under you. You were straddling his cock when Mike grabbed your hips and shoved himself into your ass. One hand settled around your neck and he used the other to press you down onto Andy’s length.

Andy lifted onto his elbows to watch your breasts bounce as they both drove their cocks in fast. Mike held you against him but that didn’t stop you from reaching out to Andy. You just wanted to touch him.

“This one is so fucking pretty,” you whined to Steve.

He rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t until the three of you had come that you had a brilliant idea. “Can I ride his beautiful face, daddy?”

“Yes.”

You hurriedly climbed up the table and Andy yanked you down by your hips. You screamed, throwing your head back as his tongue met your throbbing clit.

Steve quickly made his way to your side to make sure you stayed up. You kissed him as soon as he was in your reach. You thrust your hips over Andy’s face, moaning loudly into Steve’s mouth.

He grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his cock. You pulled away to turn down, wanting to watch as he finished. He took your opposite hand and directed it to Mike’s cock.

Mike leaned in, kissing the side of your face and grunting against your skin.

“On your back,” Steve told you.

Slowly, he helped you lean down until you were laid out on top of Andy. That gorgeous man with his gorgeous mouth and beard was still eating you out like his life depended on it.

With your hands full, Steve had to take over just a little. He turned your head and worked Andy’s cock into your mouth. As you grew closer to your end, you became aware of all the men surrounding you, stroking their cocks, all wanting to paint your skin with their cum.

When you came back to reality, you were aching, your skin was wet, and your center was throbbing.

“Baby?” Steve called out.

You turned your body to the sound of his voice and instinctively reached out to him. You whimpered as soon as your hand found his face. What the fuck was this? You were surprised to feel him hard against your stomach.

He sat up, looking around until he found Wanda.

She was looking everywhere but the two of you. “So yeah, this kind of happens. Your mind felt all of that and that’s why your body thinks it felt all of it…but it didn’t and now she just needs to be fucked.”

You laid flat on your back, reaching out to Steve again. He took your hand, but he hesitated in moving any closer.

“So, my work is done, I’ll be going now.” She moved to the door quickly.

“You don’t have to,” Steve claimed.

She froze, eyes wide as she looked back at him.

He gestured to you. “You could taste the mess you made. She honestly does have the sweetest pussy.”

Her mouth opened to respond but quickly shut. She glanced down at you, eyebrows pulling together.

You had never discussed adding anyone else in the bedroom but fuck, Wanda? She was beautiful… Maybe Steve knew about more of your fantasies than he told you about. It hurt like hell, but you lifted your hips and tore your underwear down.

Wanda only contemplated for several more seconds before she was charging back to the bed. She threw herself over you immediately, arms wrapping under and over your thighs so she could spread you wide.

You screamed as soon as her lips touched you. This was what it felt like when Steve edged you after you misbehaved, but he’d only ever held out for an hour. This felt like a god damn year.

Your hands buried in her hair and you pulled her in as close as you could get her. Your hips bucked desperately and all she did was lap and suck at your cunt until you were coming.

All Steve could do was admire the scene. Even though it was a very short scene.

She pulled away as you were coming down, wiping her mouth and not meeting your eye.

“You want to fuck her?” Steve asked.

She looked at him with her wide eyes again. “Oh, I don’t know…”

You sat up and she turned to you. “I want you to. If you want to.”

She looked surprised for a moment. “I…I haven’t been like this with anyone since…yeah.”

You crawled down the bed until you could set yourself on her lap. She wrapped her arms around you, and you suddenly fell in love with Steve even more. He must have known how badly Wanda was craving intimacy and knew just the way to get her to a position where she felt safe with the two of you.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” you said.

She stared at you for a moment before she leaned in. She wasn’t just moving slow, she was moving slow, and all you could do was sit there and wait until her lips were finally touching yours.

You tasted yourself in the kiss and maybe that made you just a little less patient. You grabbed her hair again and used your body to push hers down. With you on top, you never broke the kiss, but you did begin to undress her.

She helped with her pants and underwear, and you settled your center against hers. She cried out, hands grabbing hard at your ass. She let her head fall back and you kissed and bit at her neck.

Steve sat down next to the two of you and moved your bra out of his way.

She was the one that started moving first. She pinned you against her and her hips began to angle upward against you.

“You’re so wet,” you gasped.

She smiled briefly before she moaned. “Think that’s you, babe.”

Okay, probably. You used your forearms for balance, staring down at her as she continued rubbing her pussy against yours. “You’re beautiful.”

She stopped for a moment, surprised once again, before smiling appreciatively. “You are beautiful.”

You scoffed. “No, Steve is beautiful.”

She snorted. “Guess we’re gonna have to let him in soon, huh?”

“Yeah, probably,” you said, pretending it was such a painful idea. “But you can finish first.”

She hummed and then she was moving again. It took a few minutes, you were sure you were the first woman Wanda had ever been with, but eventually, she found the correct position to get stimulation for her clit and yours.

She finished first, her eyes filling with tears as she stared up at you. You couldn’t imagine her pain, the idea of losing Steve… You thought Wanda was the strongest person alive because if you had lost your soul mate, you would have given up. She was so strong, and she was still here, still trying her best.

“Wanda, I love you.”

She smiled between her heaving breaths. “I love you, too.” She hummed before she leaned up to kiss you for just a moment. “Wanna come?”

You shook your head. “Nope, not yet.”

Her eyebrows pulled together but she understood as soon as you started kissing down her body. She parted her legs for you, closing her eyes and allowing herself to be swept up in all the sensations as soon as your mouth was working her cunt.

“Did you need a mailed invitation, Rogers?” she wondered.

Steve snapped into action then. “Excuse me, it looked like you two had it handled.”

You knew what was coming, but even that couldn’t prepare you for the sheer relief of finally being full of Steve’s cock.

He groaned. “Jesus, baby, you already going to come?”

You hummed back, not intending to give a real answer.

Wanda liked you moaning into her folds, sighing, whimpering, licking as you tried to regain composure. And she loved you staring up at her as you did it all.

Steve fucked you slow. Yes, he wanted to please you like he never had before, especially after having to watch different men touch you. But he knew you. He knew how kindhearted you were and how much you loved your friends, and this was about Wanda. He could fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name tomorrow.

So, he paid attention. He touched you just enough to keep you on the edge of pleasure but didn’t make you come until you had given Wanda so many orgasms that she was shaking. The sweet girl would never be able to push you away, so it was Steve that had to call it a night. After making you come, he pulled out and settled down on the bed by Wanda.

You arched an eyebrow at him once you’d come down.

He crooked his finger at you.

Smiling, you quickly dove between Steve and Wanda. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you threw one of your legs between his because you liked when he ended up wrapped around you in his sleep. You reached out to Wanda and she rolled onto her side facing you. She looked unsure for a moment, but you were just so damn loving, how could she possibly leave? She laid her head on your stomach, an arm curling around your hips. You let one of your hands brush through her hair, smiling when you felt her lay a small kiss against your abdomen.

You turned up to Steve, it felt wrong to say the words given that Wanda was here still in pain from her loss, but he knew. He had seen that look on your face many times, of course, he knew that you loved him.

He nodded.

You smiled at him before turning back down to take his hand that was hovering over your chest and kissed his knuckles.

chris tags:

@onetwo3000 @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @kleohoneyao3 @cevans-fics @gotnofucks @sweet-pieces-of-nothing

#steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #mike weiss x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #robert pronge x reader #ari levinson x reader #colin shea x reader #frank adler x reader #nick vaughan x reader #my writing

563 notes · View notes

lepusrufus · 4 years ago

Note

Good evening, I would like to ask about some HC for Daniela if it is possible ? I saw you did the other 2 daughters and was curious if you were about to do the last one.

I don't think I ever did standalone hcs for the other two actually, but them with their maidens 🤔 either way I appreciate the opportunity to ramble abt some random hcs I have abt everyone's favorite redhead

She's a little bit of a hidden genius of sorts

Girl has probably read every book in that castle, be it sappy romance novels, biology textbooks or philosophy (Freud's was prompted chuckled in the fireplace)

She just prefers to immerse herself into romance books

But the girls have occasional study sessions and Bela would throw a question her way to see if she's paying attention and Daniela, without raising her eyes from the twilight book in her hands, answers correctly

Most times at least

She's the fastest out of her sisters

Which is why she does a lot of the chasing when they hunt

If she had internet access, she would have a youtube channel where she does "will it blend" challenges but with human body parts

She loves walking around and the long winter months when she has to stay cooped up in the castle are hell

Both for her and literally everyone else who has to deal with a bored Daniela

Now take this as you will bc this idea came to my 6 am haven't slept enough brain but

She sees ghosts

I think it would be a neat take on her "delusions"

Seeing ghosts is one heck of a trip when you live in a castle where people get regularly killed and turned into food

Not everyone who's killed is a ghost obviously but there is the occasional soul tormented enough to come back and haunt the stone hallways

Daniela may sometimes ask a maid something trivial like what time it is only for one of her sisters to look at her and go "who tf are you talking to??" and Dani realizes that oh that was one of the ghost maids ok

Because of this she doesn't particularly love being down in the dungeons since that's where the worst ghosts are but they seem to avoid Cassandra so being there with her isn't as bad

She never really told her family all the details about this but did a bunch of ghost research

Which was as chaotic as you'd expect from her

I know we got the official models for the daughters but I still hc Daniela as the only one with the side shave

Side shave that she asked Alcina to help her with at one point

It's her odd way of showing off that she's proud of being part of her family because without the Cadou infection (and therefore without the scar) she wouldn't be there with her mother and sisters

Speaking of which, as crazy and chaotic as the is, she's very caring towards her sisters (kinda the mom "friend") bc she's the most in tune with her feelings unlike the other two that are varying degrees of too proud and stubborn

#daniela dinitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #hope u like these!#i sure had fun writing these out #headcanons

132 notes · View notes

aurorabyler · 3 years ago

Text

Byler: Their Motivations in Stranger Things 4

hi! so i’ve lurked on byler/stranger things tumblr since 2016 but i just have so much to say and am so obsessed with theorizing and writing and picking up on easter eggs so i thought i just had to have somewhere to spill all my thoughts. i’ve read pretty much every single byler theory there is out there (lmao the hyperfixation is just wayyy too strong) and have also looked into a lot of stuff regarding will and how he was able to do all of the stuff he did in the upside down. a few questions of many that i’ve been thinking about recently have to do with mike and will’s motivations for a lot of plot points that happen in season 4 particularly. i’ll start from the first one we see: will’s painting

anyone who has been watching the show will of course pick up on will’s underlying feelings for mike and the subtext/hints that have been sprinkled in the show since season 1 (literally the first episode lmao). his feelings are known by the audience at this point and in contrast to mike, there is a lot less ambiguity surrounding it. mike is a whole other post, which many people have covered already, but what i’m interested in is what prompted will to start the painting in the first place? el says that “will has been painting a lot,” implying that he’s been working on the piece for a while and that it holds a lot of importance for him. this has been covered by so many other posts and is to be expected. but other than mike’s upcoming visit to california, was there a specific moment or something that happened to will that would make him start working on the painting in the first place? we know how deeply will loves and cares for mike and it makes sense that he’d want to make something for him. will initially planned to give mike the painting at the airport (but we all know how that went lol), so it’s fair to assume that the painting wasn’t initially meant to be used for a love confession to mike. it was a display of love from will, but he wouldn’t give it to mike as a confession in such a public place and of course in front of el (and argyle who doesn’t even know mike). from the way things are going and from the hints we’ve been blessed with regarding volume 2, it seems like the painting is going to be used as a plot device for a confession. but when/if we do get that confession, i’m so curious to see if the duffers explore why/when will started the painting in the first place. what would be SUPER interesting would be if there is some flashback scene between will and mike that hinted to will even further that his feelings could be reciprocated one day. the timeline of season 3′s ending is what sticks out to me the most here. after mike and will’s fight, we do get that tiny but incredibly meaningful scene between them in the last episode of season 3 that hints toward their feelings for one another: “what if you want to join another party?” “not possible.”, but my thinking is, what if there is another flashback scene in here that will had on his mind when he started the painting? there is a 3 month gap between the battle of starcourt and the byers/el moving away. what if something else happened between mike and will during that time that would have given him the confidence to start the painting? the reason why i think there could be a flashback is that it’s almost 100% likely that nothing happened between the two once will moved away, seeing as it’s explicitly stated that they drifted because they weren’t talking to each other. ahhhhh i don’t know. this is driving me crazy...volume 2 really can’t come soon enough anyways i hope this makes sense bc it’s mostly just a lot of brain rot tbh. maybe i’ll post more theories and stuff later lmaooo

#byler #mike wheeler is gay #byler better be canon #byler is endgame #byler s4 #byler tumblr #mike wheeler x will byers #mike x will #gay will byers

8 notes · View notes

a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

Note

hello, i am here! Stannis with the prompt: a diary where you can communicate with your soulmate, please. it can be hc's or scenario; however you choose to quench my thirst for him, I will be grateful.

hi molly, thank u for giving me such a treat!!! bc this was my first prompt and it... uh ....................

really got away from me

(LOTS OF ANGST BUT ITLL BE OK I PROMISE MAYBE)

The first thing he felt about it was annoyance. The six year old second son of Lord Baratheon looked down and saw that someone had doodled all over his book. He figured it was Robert, though he'd never seen a quill in his brother's hand unless it was being forced by the maester. He set the leather bound book in front of his mother expectantly, silently waiting for an explanation. When she looked at it and gave him a curious glance, he finally spoke.

"Robert's been drawing in it," Stannis said. He placed it right on top of her embroidery so she'd see. Lady Cassana wasn't bothered, rather, she was curious. She picked up the book and flipped through the pages.

"Did you see him do it, sweetling?"

"No." The lack of evidence didn't deter him - no, this was evidence enough. He didn't understand what his mother was so amused about.

Lady Cassana stopped on one of the pages. She smiled at the messy drawing of what was probably a cat catching a mouse. Under that was a tidy little castle with a series of smiling figures. "I don't think it's your brother, Stannis."

Stannis frowned, ready to argue that fact, but she asked, "Do you know what a soulmate is, sweetling?"

“No.”

“It’s a special person that only you can speak with this way,” She touched the book. “It's a special thing, I did it when I was your age. It’s the will of the gods, my love. You should write something back."

He hesitated. “Do I… have to?”

“Not if you don’t want to. But perhaps say hello, give it a try.” Lady Cassana said. She was smiling broadly now. “Enjoy it while you can.”

"What if they're not literate?"

Maester Cressen looked up from his papers, surprised the usually quiet boy was speaking during lessons. Stannis repeated, “What if my… soul mate doesn’t know their letters? You said the smallfolk don't."

The Maester stood and walked over to the leather book. Two years later, and it still looked in good condition. Stannis took care of this things, especially this. As usual the page was covered in whimsical drawings.

“Have you tried to write to them, my lord?”

“Not yet.” Stannis was furrowing his brow already, wanting his questions answered. “What happens if one soul mate can’t write, but the other can? What if both can't?"

“My lord, there's no need to worry about things that are irrelevant to you.”

“What do the smallfolk do?” Stannis pressed on. “Draw pictures like this? How do they find each other? How do they know what the other person looks like?"

Maester Cressen was already turning back to his papers. “Soulmates don’t always find each other, my lord, nor should they expect to.”

“Why not?”

“Distance, lack of communication, familial duties.” The maester said dismissively. “If you’ll return to your lessons—”

“I finished. What’s the point of soulmates if they can never meet?"

Maester Cressen sighed. There was no escaping this anytime soon, he feared. “It’s the will of the gods, my lord, and a great mystery we maesters have studied for centuries. It’s best not to think much of it, however. Draw or write back in the book, if you wish, but do not spend too much time with it. It’s best not to get expectations of someone you will likely never meet.”

Stannis looked down at the book, startled by a new drawing already appearing. He couldn’t see them being made, only when they were finished. It was a school of fish, or maybe a flock of birds. Wouldn’t it be simple to ask where this person lived, and go see them? What was the point of all this if he was just meant to ignore it? He wanted to ignore it, but this mysterious person kept drawing all over his notes and it was distracting.

“Mother said it’s 'the will of the gods', too. Does that mean it’s bad to ignore it?”

The maester stood up and closed the leather book. He replaced it with a chart of various colorful coat of arms and a map. “I daresay it’s time to move on to the next lesson."

It took him a few days, but the lordling decided to write in the book. Stannis wasn't much of an artist, so Hello seemed like a good start. He was relieved when there was a simple ‘hello!’ written back within a few minutes, and later, a scribbly flower with a long stalk underneath. Seeing the words form on their own so quickly, and in response to him, unnerved Stannis. He closed the book and tried not to think about it the rest of the day.

He checked a week later, where more drawings were present, with more words: whats your nam?

He wrote back, Name has an 'e'.

And before his eyes, a minute later, there was a name… and a house, and a title. Caspian.

She was a highborn lady? Stannis looked at the page, not sure what to think about it. It’d be alright to write to a lady, wouldn’t it? Maester Cressen was the one worried about this soulmate business. Perhaps it was because a lord and peasant couldn’t be together? Stannis knew that rule already. He knew the decorum and niceties his parents rehearsed him through, even at his young age. He walked to the library to find a map, and in the time he finally located it and rolled it out, there was more on the page.

A drawing of something weird and arrow-shaped. this is our sigil. its a manta ray.

Stannis had never seen one, but he had a sense that wasn’t what they looked like. He tried looking through the map, but words kept appearing.

whats your nam where are you from? ?? are you a boy or girl do you like horses ? I like swiming and horses! im good at it

He considered closing the book again, rolling up the map, going back to whatever he was doing before. If there was no point, then why bother with this? ... Then again, he’d have to go back to the training yard, and Robert was there swinging around a huge wooden sword.

Stannis frowned, deciding this was the less annoying (and painful) activity for now. He found an ink pot and quill, held it tightly and wrote in a fine penmanship—

My name is Stannis Baratheon.

The last part smudged, and it didn’t look exactly how his father signed it, but it was his best. The response wasn’t immediate, and he quickly saw why. A drawing of a stag appeared on the paper before the words did.

Its good to meat you! lets be friends

Friends? Friends. He thought about it. Stannis didn’t have friends, just brothers. He didn’t think he needed any. This didn’t have to be so bad, though, he could try. If it was too tiresome, or too... strange, he could stop. Maester Cressen wanted him to stop, anyhow, and his mother said he didn't have to.

It’s spelled ‘meet’. We can be friends.

Lady Cassana patted his mess of black hair, and Stannis didn’t flinch away this time. Instead, he asked, “Were you and father soulmates?”

“No,” She answered honestly. She was always honest, and he liked that. His father joked too much. “Do you remember what I told you about duty? Sometimes we have to set aside our hearts to best serve our realm. Sometimes we have to set aside this.”

She gave the leather book back to him. Maester Cressen had taken it, and he was determined to accept the punishment, but it bothered him more than he wanted to say. He was grateful his mother returned it, though he was struggling to meet her eyes. His ears were still red from embarrassment, but she wasn’t upset, or teasing, or scolding.

“It hurt me to set my own down, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be. Your father had one that he never wrote to. The idea of having it and setting it aside was too much for him. And yet, we love each other very much, and we love our sons.” Lady Cassana stopped touching his hair when he finally squirmed away. Stannis ran his fingers along the leather spine and the uneven parchment bound inside the book.

When he took a long time to answer, she spoke softly. “It’s your decision, Stannis.”

That night, he wrote in the book, asking what she’d do when they grew up. When she'd stop writing. The response was instant. There was a drawing of a sad girl next to her words.

your my friend! i like writing to you. do you want to stop?

I don’t. Stannis decided, and that was it.

The talks still came, though. It happened before, several times, and here it was again. It didn’t matter that he stopped bringing the book to his lessons, or that he only wrote in the privacy of his room. Maester Cressen always seemed to know.

“It’s for your own good that you begin to set it aside, Stannis,” The old man said. He always seemed old, but when he was scolding it was especially so.

Stannis wasn’t one to talk back, but he still struggled to hide his scowl. This wasn’t the first time the maester made him set his jaw and tense it up. It wasn’t his business. She never discouraged it, so he didn’t understand why Maester Cressen had to.

“It’s not inappropriate,” He said. “She’s a lady. I never write improperly, it's like sending letters."

“Sending a strange lady letters is inappropriate,” The Maester sighed. “Especially without the knowledge of her family. What would they say?"

“She could tell them at anytime."

“Do you tell your lord father and lady mother all that you write, then?”

Stannis gritted his teeth and turned away. At ten and three, Stannis could already see over the old man’s head, and he didn't feel like a child, so he didn't appreciate being talked to like one. “You don’t speak to Robert about these matters.”

“Robert is at the Eyrie, no doubt being told the same by Lord Arryn. Stannis, do you understand why I say these things? Do you understand the trouble it could cause you, and worse, her?”

Maester Cressen often referred to ‘her’, or the girl, even if she was just as grown as Stannis. He didn't ask her identity, and Stannis didn't give it. He hated having to hear this conversation again. Of all the trouble Robert was already causing in the Eyrie — he saw those letters, it was his duty to attend to them while his parents were at sea — Stannis felt like his own actions were hardly important. There would be weeks where he couldn’t write to her at all, or she was busy as well. If anyone tried to read what they wrote, gods forbid, it was mostly idle talk and drawings.

Lots and lots of drawings, she still had that habit. She was getting very good at them. Stannis brought his mind back to the present. “I understand.” He said, in a tone that made it clear he didn’t actually intend to stop.

Case in point, he pulled out the worn leather book that evening. It was the second, or maybe the third one. If she didn’t draw so much they’d have more room, but sometimes Stannis wrote a lot, too. She made it easy to do that. It was alright if she didn’t answer right away, or if at all. It was good to just write it.

He frowned as he moved to the most recent page. It was a short, curt sentences, which wasn’t like her. There were no pictures.

My cousin died this morning. We were riding together, and she fell from her horse. I couldn’t help her. No one blames me, but I feel terrible. I’ve been crying all day. I’m going to the Godswood tonight to pray for forgiveness. I might be quiet. I'm sorry.

‘I might be quiet’. ‘I might not write tonight.’ ‘I’ll write to you tomorrow’. ‘I’ll tell you about it when I can’. Those were phrases the two of them were used to. It was expectant. They may not write every day, or every week, but eventually they will.

Take the time you need. I’ll be here for you.

It made his chest hurt to write that, but he knew it was the right thing. It’s what she would always say to him, and without fail, he’d eventually come around and tell her. She was the only one he really told… anything. He wondered if the same was true for her. She mentioned visiting ladies now and again, a knight’s daughter she played with, and… this cousin.

He kept the book beside him the rest of the evening, knowing she likely wouldn’t respond. By the time she did, the earlier conversation with the maester had left his mind.

The longest they’d gone without writing was during the following year. It took months before he could pick the book up again, even look at it. It was months using all the willpower he had to get out of bed and carry on. There was Renly to look after, and Storm’s End to attend to, and the duties that Robert neglected when he returned to the Eyrie. He should have stayed, but he didn’t. So Stannis took care of it. He did what was right.

When he was finally able to pick up the book, when the choking pain keeping him up at night had dulled to just a constant ache that allowed sleep now and again, he hesitated.

The latest page was inquiries of how he was, where he was. There was a variety of pictures, black and some colors she’d managed to get ahold of. Her manta rays looked like proper rays, and so did the stags she had become so fond of. She drew some ships she’d seen in the harbor, a cat that liked to hide away in her bedroom. Then the pictures stopped.

My father told me what happened. Stannis, I’m here. You can write to me, whenever you can. I’ll always be here.

It hurt again. He closed the book, listened to the fire flickering loudly in the hearth in his room. It was becoming stuffy, but he didn’t want to open a window. He could hear the waves and the crashes against the rock from his window, and that would lead to the sounds of broken wood and screams in his sleep.

He moved closer to the fire, away from those sounds. Flipping through the old book’s pages, looking at the art and some of the sillier things she wrote. Apparently when he’d make her laugh, she’d screw up some letters. She told him as much. When he corrected any spelling, she liked to make the same mistake and circle it. She liked to draw little figures that were supposed to be them, but it was awful on purpose, and they were usually doing something ridiculous like riding a dragon.

Looking back on those gave him the strength to flip to the newest page. He stared at it, wondering if he should stop. He was acting Lord of Storm’s End. Wasn’t his duty even more important than this, and wasn’t her reputation in danger? ‘Willed by the gods’, they said, but he no longer believed in those. What gods would smash his parents and their great ship against the rocks of their own castle? The same stupid gods that would create this... this connection in a world where it would inevitably be severed.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain shoot up across his jaw and straight to his head, where a headache would start. The fire was right there. It would be easy to …

His hands moved on their own. The words were sloppy and left heavy ink blotches on the paper. I’m here.

I am too. I missed you.

The response was near instantaneous. Perhaps if she waited, he could’ve done it. He could’ve burned it, if she hadn’t wrote that. Maybe it didn’t matter what she’d say. The sudden longing and loneliness hit him all at once, but it was easy to respond.

I won’t do it again. Being gone for this long.

A pause, a heartbeat, and a tensing of his jaw that made his head ache again. He added in an anxious scrawl, I missed you too.

It was another sleepless night, but for once, it wasn’t because of the nightmares and the crashing waves. The sun came up as he wrote in the margins of the last page, promising to find a new book.

There was modest wooden box he kept them in, hidden under his bed. He was good at hiding it now. No one had bothered mentioning Stannis’ old habit anymore, assuming he’d grown out of it. He’d dated all of them to the best of his knowledge, though he rarely went back to read them. He used to, but that simple act flustered him horribly. They were still in good condition, except for one that had been partially chewed by a hunting hound. The one time he was careless.

The hound was no longer around, and he regretted that. He liked dogs. He liked that one, upset as he was when she chewed the diary years ago. She was still a good, loyal dog. He had to butcher her with the rest.

Stannis tried to remember when they ate the dogs. Thinking was a slow, laborious process now. He had to sit down to do it, and getting up was even worse. He stayed standing as long as possible, afraid of what would happen if he stopped. He couldn’t stop, not while his men needed him, and Renly, and Robert.

He moved slowly. It was hard to tell if it was to conserve energy or if he simply had no energy left. Stannis carefully unwrapped the small leather strap that kept the diary bound and closed. His shaking hands struggled to grasp the paper and turn the pages, but he managed. It was the writing that was the hardest. At least there was plenty of paper and ink, only because no one could eat it.

When he looked at the page again, the lighting was different. The candle was lower than before. He’d dropped his quill on the floor — no, he was on the floor, leaning against the cool stone. Stannis didn’t remember falling. He wasn’t sure if he passed out, or fell asleep. Again he turned to the proper page and picked up the quill. He tried to write before he remembered he needed ink. The ink dragged across the page as he wrote languidly, Are you there

The question mark was more of an ugly splotch that spread across the paper.

Yes, always.

Her family supported the rebellion, being sworn to Eddard Stark, and outraged at what the Mad King had done to his father and brother. Stannis told himself it made writing easier, not that he’d ever give her any information that could endanger her. Early on, they didn’t speak of it. Especially now, he couldn’t. He couldn’t…

He couldn’t… think. Stannis struggled for words. He mentioned what day it was, how many men he had left. A log that helped keep him grounded, something he hated to subject her to, but he needed the clarity. Sometimes she corrected him on the day, and that startled him. As he finished his short report, his hand trembled, and he dropped the quill again. Stannis exhaled, forcing the air through his lungs, then struggled to breath in again.

Not for the first time, he wondered if this was dying.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he looked at the page again. She wrote a lot, and he couldn’t remember when it was there.

When you make it through this disgusting siege — and you will make it, Stannis — I’ll be there. I swear it, I’ll sail down to Storm’s End with my family’s ships. I don’t care anymore. I want to be there.

She’d said as much before, when this started. Stannis discouraged her. He didn’t have the strength for that anymore. Instead, he fought to keep his eyes open, fought to think about it, difficult as thinking was. Thinking of their meeting used to be a surefire way of a day full of anxious thoughts, but now it was… grounding. He couldn’t see the end of the rebellion, or the end of this siege. He just had to endure it. That’s what Robert said: Endure it, brother. Hold it for me.

But he could see her, in his thoughts. He could try. Some years ago, she asked what he looked like, and he responded as such: Blue eyes, black hair, like his father and brothers. Asking the same of her felt… strange. She didn’t answer right away, so he panicked. He said she didn’t have to do such a thing. It was inappropriate. She told him to wait, which he thought was odd.

Several hours later, she took up nearly a whole page with a ‘messy’ self-portrait: her words, not his. It was only a bust, but it still transfixed him. It was clear from the drawing she had looked in a mirror, and it was messy, and it was surrounded by words describing her hair color and her favorite dress and her eyes. Stannis couldn’t look at the page for days after that. He’d break out in a sweat just thinking about it.

It was comforting to think about the old picture now. Maybe 'comforting' wasn’t the right word, but she was the one who was good with words, and pictures, and little fantasies like this. She liked to write about what they could do if they met.

Maybe he took too long to respond again. She had written more. We’ll meet and you’ll show me the drum walls around Storm’s End. You promised. I’ll bring my best paintings, I made one for you. I don’t care if it’s allowed or not, it’s a gift. I want to see you so badly it hurts.

Stannis touched the letters. He was startled by how his pale hands seemed to blend into the parchment. He didn’t recognize the knuckles sticking out. He wondered what she sounded like, and how she laughed. He didn’t think he could manage it now. Stannis glanced around for the quill, dipped it into ink with a great deal of effort, and slowly slid it across the paper. He stopped abruptly, ruining the words.

You’re the strongest, most noble man I know. You will make it through this and the rebellion will end, and I’ll be with you. I swear it before the old gods and new.

The ink seeped into the paper, the quill trembled in his hand as he tried to hold it properly. He was dying, he decided. Only dying men ate disgusting leather they tried to boil into water and infected rats. Even the latter was becoming scarce. He scrawled a response, struggling to pull the words together.

I miss you.

I miss you too, Stannis.

#tihs is so self indulgent kfskfks #pls dont expect the other prompts to be this long haha i just went kinda nuts!!#stannis baratheon x reader #libra fics #libra minis

94 notes · View notes

theweasleysredhair · 4 years ago

Note

CHLOE MY LOVE! congrats on 4.6k -- honestly not sure how you don't have a million more followers because your blog and your writing is freaking brilliant! so happy to have formed a genuine friendship with you :') brb getting emotional. anyway! for your event, could you write a little something with my love george with a few different prompts? is that allowed? 3 and 8 from angst, 10 from fluff? who's surprised, i'm all fluff, congrats again my darling you deserve it all x

thank you so so much angel!! 💕 of course i decided i had to do a fake dating drabble for you erica, i got v carried away with it too so hope you like a super long drabble that turned into practically a whole fic - enjoy! ❤️

theweasleysredhair’s 4.6k follower event!

3. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”

8. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

10. “Because I love you.”

~~~

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 1884

WARNING: there’s no ‘read more’ bc i’m on mobile and couldn’t get it to work hahaha i apologise

Taglist: @dreamer821 @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @besitos-41 @heart-of-tempered-steel @andineversawyoucoming @mytreec | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit goes to whoever made it

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“I need you to date me.”

In shock, you dropped too many of the porcupine quills into your potion, making the liquid turn a nasty shade of green and sizzle as it practically exploded across the table. You sighed frustratedly, grabbing your wand and cleaning up the potion before turning to the person who spoke - one half of the Weasley twins and one of your best friends, George Weasley - who apparently found your reaction extremely amusing.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. The hint of a smile was still etched onto his face as he leaned forward, “I need you to date me.”

You felt yourself grow warm at the thought, “You’re joking, right?” “For once, I am not,” he shook his head, “I um, I told this girl I couldn’t go to the Yule Ball with her because I had a girlfriend who I’m going with instead. Except, I don’t have a girlfriend. So you can see my dilemma.”

“This may be a stupid question but... if you don’t have a girlfriend, why did you tell her you do?” You raised an eyebrow, half curious, half amused.

“I didn’t want to be rude and just tell her no because she was really sweet. So now I need to find someone to date me, and I thought of you,” he explained with a shrug, playing with some of the potion ingredients you’d left at the end of your table.

“There are so many other girls you could have-“

“I don’t want anyone else, I want you,” he said almost desperately, before sighing downheartedly, “C’mon, it wouldn’t be so bad, and it wouldn’t have to be for long! Just until the Yule Ball. It’s not like we’d have to pretend that much! I spend most of my free time with you as it is.”

“How do you know I don’t already have a date, huh?” You asked, beginning to start your potion all over again before Snape got the chance to scold you.

George’s face dropped and his jaw clenched, “What do you mean? Who asked you?”

“Well, no one. But my point was, what if they had?”

“Then you’d tell them you’ve been given a better option - me - and that they were never good enough for you. You know, the truth,” he nodded triumphantly, running a hand through his hair.

You shook your head at him with a smile, glancing up at him before your gaze travelled back to your potion.

“So what do you say?”

You pondered it for a moment, before replying, “Fine.”

George broke out into a large grin, wrapping his arms around you and very nearly swinging you around the room in excitement, “Darling, you are the best! I owe you big time!”

“Yes, you do. Now, do we have any rules we need to discuss?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know, a backstory, how we got together, how far we’d go with PDA - I vote not too far if I’m honest,” you said nervously, toying with the hem of your jumper.

“Well I vote the opposite, I think we should have lots of PDA constantly, all the time!”

“George,” you said warningly, though you couldn’t help the way your lips curved into a smile.

“Fine,” he dragged out the last syllable, “I can only think of one rule. A very important rule that I’m sure you might have a hard time not breaking.”

“Go on?”

“Whatever you do, don’t fall in love with me!” His eyes widened dramatically as he pointed at you. “No chance of that happening, don’t you worry,” you laughed, stirring the potion.

“Well that was rude of you,” he said in mock hurt, a hand on his heart as he pouted at you. You cracked a smile and shook your head, “Oh be quiet will you, and pass me the rest of those porcupine quills, I have to finish redoing this potion that you made me ruin.”

“Nagging me already,” George mumbled, “We really are a couple.”

***

You realised pretty quickly that you were wrong about there being no chance of falling for George. So very wrong. Turns out the chances of falling for George Weasley were 100%, because somewhere between being his friend and being more, you fell head over heels in love with him.

If you were honest with yourself, you’d had feelings for him before the whole fake-dating, but figured you’d mistaken them for feelings of strong friendship.

Now you knew - you didn’t want to be his friend, you wanted him to snog you against a wall as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

And all of this was because of one simple kiss. You hadn’t expected it, didn’t know it was going to happen. All you knew was that one minute you were walking down the hallway with George’s arm around your shoulder - not even for show, really, he just walked with you like that anyway - and the next, your back was against a pillar, your eyes widening as you stared up at George, feeling yourself growing warm.

“W-What’s going on?” You stammered out, heart pounding as you lost yourself in his brown eyes, suddenly getting the urge to run your hand through his ginger hair and pull him by his tie down into a kiss.

“She’s watching,” he murmured, nodding subtly down to the end of the hallway. You couldn’t see anyone, but took his word for it as you figured you were just overwhelmingly flustered from the proximity.

And suddenly you realised what position you were in: his hands either side of your head, trapping you between his chest and the pillar, your own chest barely an inch away from him and his legs brushing against your own.

Your breath hitched in your mouth, noticing how his eyes flickered from your eyes down to your mouth before moving back up again. Your lips parted a little, chin tilting ever-so-slightly upwards as you waited to see what he’d do.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and suddenly his lips were on yours, pulling you into a desperate kiss, him cupping your cheek to bring you closer, his other hand sliding down the pillar to grab your waist.

This wasn’t a kiss from someone who was just a friend. This was a kiss that made your toes curl, set your skin on fire and made you want more - so much more.

And in that moment you realised you loved him. You didn’t want to go back to being George’s friend, not when you knew how his lips felt against yours, how his hands felt holding your waist.

He’d finally pulled away for air, still pressing shorter kisses to your lips as you both breathed heavily, and you dragged a hand through his hair, just how you’d imagined.

You knew, right then, that you were in love with him. All of a sudden, and very very full on.

After that, you suddenly noticed and admired everything about him, from the way he laughed to the way he bit his lip as he glanced your way.

And the thought of breaking this whole dating thing off - something that you’d both planned to happen the day after the Yule Ball - made you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of never kissing him again made you want to scream.

You couldn’t imagine going back to being friends. Not when you’d had a taster of what it was like to be George Weasley’s girlfriend.

You argued with yourself, one half of you wanting to end it with him now in order to save yourself further heartbreak, and the other half wanting to continue for as long as possible. It was all you could think about, from the moment you woke up in the morning to the moment you went to sleep at night. And you decided you couldn’t keep going like this, it wasn’t fair to you.

You couldn’t keep pretending you weren’t in love with the ginger boy.

And so, when you found yourself sat in his common room late one night two weeks after that first fateful kiss, sharing one of the red plush couches with him, his leg pressed next to yours and your heart racing, the rest of the students already in their dorms, you decided to be honest with him.

“George?”

“Yes?” George waited for your reply, however at the silence, he looked up curiously, finding you chewing on your lip in thought.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, concern seeping into his voice as he looked at you, noticing how restless you appeared, how lost in thought.

“I um.. yes? I mean no,” you frowned, “I mean- I don’t know.”

He shifted, his body tilting towards yours and he grabbed your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips so he could press a kiss to you knuckles, “What’s wrong, what’s going on?”

“I can’t pretend anymore, Georgie,” you whispered, afraid if you spoke any louder your voice would fail you.

“What do you mean, you can’t pretend? You’re scaring me, princess, please tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours,” he frowned, hating the idea of anything even remotely bothering you.

“I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend anymore.”

And suddenly George felt like he’d been winded, a pain in his chest he could only liken to heartbreak, if he was to be so dramatic.

“What?” His voice was small, especially in the silent room. He wanted to know why. Had he done something wrong? Made you feel uncomfortable at one point? He’d hate himself if he had.

“I can’t pretend because- because I fell in love with you,” you breathed out, lips trembling as you stared at your clasped hands, “This isn’t pretend for me anymore, this is real! And it’s scary, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

There was a silence and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not wanting to see the look on his face as he tried to come up with, you presumed, a way to reject you.

“You wanna know why I asked you to be my fake girlfriend?” He asked suddenly, squeezing your hands and waiting for you to nod slightly at him, before continuing, “Because I wanted a reason to ask you to the Yule Ball without being rejected. Because I wanted to spend even more time with you, to have a glimpse at what it would be like to date you. Because-because I love you.”

Your felt your heart skip a beat as you finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he smiled at you.

“You love me?” You whispered.

“Always have, I reckon.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you allowed him to pull you closer to him, “Well I guess it’s definitely a good job I fell for you, huh?”

He grinned cheekily, biting his lip as he replied jokingly, “Well, I don’t know really, I mean, I thought I told you not to fall in love with me.”

“Yeah, well,” you spoke, letting a soft smile creep onto your face,

“As it turns out, I just couldn’t help myself.”

#4.6k follower drabble event #george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

764 notes · View notes

dragonsareourfuture · 3 years ago

Text

Mello/GN! Reader — Shower Thoughts

I’m reading the death note manga for the first time and I recently got to that part where Mello’s just kinda. Waitin’ outside the shower for Halle bc they cant talk anywhere else without being heard by bugs. I think its really funny but I couldn’t help but imagine that same scene happening with someone with a completely different personality. So have a small thing I wrote about it. Basically the reader likes to be annoying and uses humor to deflect from serious situations. I’m not self-projecting what do you mean.

“So.” You haven’t shut up since Mello pointed the gun to your head. It’s like he’s forced you to spit out an essay of the dumbest shit he’s ever heard and you were giving him material for an ‘A+’. He has no idea if this is your way of panicking during a stressful situation or if you just like to irritate him. He just knows he’s annoyed as all hell and has the power to silence you…but he wouldn’t do that. He needs you to get to Near. Unfortunately. “How was your day?”

His eyes bore into the sink, as if willing the faucet to start up and fill the room with water so he can drown. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“You’re right, you’re right. I guess that wasn’t the best question, huh? Sorry.”

Mello hums. He’s staying as still as he can. It’s not like he thinks that any movement will prompt you to talk again, but that’s what the paranoid part of his brain is telling him. Silence. He just needs a few moments of silence—

“Ah, shit! Soap in my eye! I got—ahhh fuck – I got soap in my eye…”

“Great. Think you can suffer any more quietly?”

“Wow. No sympathy.” You pout, and the tone in your voice is genuinely upset. Most likely because he’s not playing along and not because you’re so offended that he’s being cruel to a poor, soap-blinded person. “Gevanni wouldn’t treat me this way.”

“If he could hear you I’m sure he’d want to blow your brains out, too.”

You bark with laughter. Mello hears a soap bottle fall.

“Aren’t you so cute! I certainly don’t mind if you stay here a little longer, yellow Mello! We could build you a nice lil’ pillow fort in the bathtub.”

Mello’s rubbing his temples, letting out a labored sigh. He is legitimately getting a headache from you. He thought that was just something people claimed happens when they’re being dramatic but he is actually getting a headache. But again, he needs you. And you’ve been an incredible help thus far. Despite your mannerisms and attitude, you’re actually a pretty serious and loyal person when it counts. These are all things Mello tells himself as he’s counting down from one hundred – and old anger management trick that he was forced to learn back at Wammy’s. He has found that it has little effect.

“Hey,” you call, as if bothered by the short bout of silence in the room. “I’m- shit…I’m sorry, okay? I don’t like this situation either. But I guess…I’m trying to make it a little better?”

For once, you let only the patter of water on porcelain fill the room. He can almost hear your breathing, and it sounds calculated. Mello’s headache wains.

“Thanks.” It’s all he can think to say. He knows you mean well, he always has. “I appreciate the effort.”

Your relieved chuckle bounces off the walls. It’s a sound Mello is happy to hear.

“M’glad.” And he can tell you are, as the smile you wear can be heard in your voice. “I’ll be done in a minute, I promise. I just gotta wash my hair so I’ll give you a play by play of what I’m doing so you know just how ‘almost done’ I am.”

“(Name), please don’t—“

“I’m grabbing the conditioner.”

“I swear if you—“

“I’m squeezing some onto my hand.”

Mello can feel his headache creep back into his skull. “I literally have a gun and you’re gonna make me wanna—“

“I’m putting it on my hea-AHH!” your riveting narration is interrupted by a screech when Mello punches the shower curtain right next to your face. “JESUS!”

He goes to tell you off when his eyes flit to the bathroom mirror and his words are caught in his throat. The sight that greets him is different for two different reasons. The first reason makes the second reason even more curious. Firstly, Mello has learned to accept that his face will never look the same again. His eyes wander around his left side, trace the pattern of the scar melded into his flesh like a searing reminder of how he’ll always be stuck where he is, never progressing, never rising above. But the scar has more than mental drawbacks; it also limits the physical movements of his features. Its stiff, like stone has begun to creep over the expanse of his face. So why, then, was he just able to smile so effortlessly without even noticing?

As annoying as you are…you’re the most fun Mello’s had in a while.

“Alright, I’ll stop! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, Yeah. Just hurry up.”

“Oh right, we’ve gotta deceive my boss in a few.”

Mello snorts at how nonchalantly you say it. “I doubt he isn’t aware of us already.”

“’Us’?”

“That we’ve been conspiring.”

“Oh, right,” you chirp happily, but a tense pause follows. “For a second you made it sound like…”

“Like what?”

“Pshh, I don’t know!” you do know. “Now I’m about to get out so look away or I’ll throw soap in your eyes.” Ah, changing the subject. A classic method of avoiding embarrassment and a tactic you’ve grown so used to using it’s practically an unconscious choice by now.

But luckily, Mello doesn’t seem to want to dwell on it either. He instead focuses on your last sentence, responding by clicking his tongue against his teeth. “We’re both adults here.”

“I know that! I’m concerned that if you get a look at my godly self you won’t be able to control your adultly urges.”

“’Adultly’s not a word.”

You’re able stick your tongue out at him once you pop your head out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack.

“Taking the high road, I see.”

“Oh, shush. I never take the high road.” You flick water at Mello as you step out of the shower. “Alrighty. Time to go pretend to be a hostage while you threaten my boss. Oh, clothes first!”

“I’ll be here.”

After sending an affirming thumbs up, you exit the bathroom, a swirl of steam trailing behind you.

He’ll be here…It honestly is a shame he can’t stay here any longer. But it’d be suspicious. Near would find too many connections between the two of you. But…there are ways to avoid that happening.

Mello finds himself seriously considering the bathtub pillow fort idea.

#Death note x reader #death note #oneshot #death note oneshot #mello x reader #mihael keehl #mello death note #mihael keehl x reader #x reader #anime oneshot

122 notes · View notes

quillsareswords · 5 years ago

Note

Could you do something with Damian and a really cuddly, clingy, touchy-feely reader? I feel like his brothers would be v confused about the whole situation bc Damian's just chillin and always seems neutral to what's happening while reader is just like, koala bear hugging him and stuff all the time.

Firstly. I love this concept with every fiber of my being because, oh good god, it's me. Thank you so much for bringing this to inbox, because I've been lacking on inspiration lately, and this is just what I need right now. Thanks doll!!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Tim stops dead in his tracks, cereal bowl nearly slipping from his hand as he halts in the doorway to the huge living room. He pauses, before cautiously asking, "What is this? What am I looking at?"

Damian's arm twitches against your back, the only give away that he's been caught off guard. You seem just as relaxed, sprawled on top of him like you've been there your whole life.

You don't even look at him, eyes still glued to the phone screen shining up at you from the floor, which you're facing with your face pressed against Damian's shoulder. "You've known me for five years and you still haven't learned my name? Rude."

He blinks. "Sure, sure. Right. Because it's absolutely normal for anyone to successfully get within a foot of Damian and not get knocked out."

You snort, but it still isn't enough to pry your attention away from your phone. Damian either, as he reads a book over your shoulder, which is settled under his chin. He must be tired or in a terrifyingly good mood, if he hasn't shoved you off in hopes of hiding emotions from his family. That's what he usually does when he gets caught with you, anyway.

He's been tiptoeing around the subject of you for a solid year and half now. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you're also a family friend, what with being a vigilante and all. You're Damian's partner, have been for three years, and you're in the manor often enough that you have your own room, right next to Damian's.

Still, even with no clear answers from either of you, the whole family has suspected a relationship for a long time.

But Damian isn't very touch oriented. In fact, he's been known to go to nearly astonishing lengths to avoid being touched at all.

And now here he is, you laying on top of him, out in the open, absolutely unbothered by Tim catching it.

Tim decides quickly not to risk Damian's mood spoiling while he's around, so he backpedals and heads for his room.

• • •

Jason doesn't come to the manor often, but when he does, there's usually a decently concerning reason for it. This time, he's waiting out a possible kidnapping by one king pin or another. You haven't been paying as much attention as you probably should.

Now, he's trotting down the steps from Bruce's office to fix a suspicious rattling noise his motorcycle has been making for a shameful period of time.

However, he stops beside the super computer, looking a little aghast and far too dramatic for the sight.

Damian side-eyes him, still typing away, but his head doesn't move. It really can't, because you're resting your head on top of it.

You're resting your full weight on the back of the chair, which Jason now realizes isn't the tall backed chair that usual sits there, with your cheek buried in the soft looking bush that is Damian's hair. Your eyes are closed, and your arms and draped over his shoulders, hands laying on his chest.

Jason catches himself staring when Damian's side-eyeing turns into a curious glare. Tentatively, Jason points to you, and raises an eyebrow.

Lowly, Damian somewhat patiently answers, "She's half asleep."

Your eyebrows slant together. "Hmm?"

Jason's expression becomes more confused. "She sleeps standing up?"

"Apparently," Damian mumbles.

Jason, more than a little perturbed but Damian's oddly placid demeanor and your absurd sleeping habits, shuffles the rest if the way to his bike, grabbing the toolbox on his way.

• • •

Dick sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket—correction, three blankets, facing the rest of the living room, where Damian sits on one couch, and Duke occupies the other.

"No no, I'm not saying Bella wasn't smokin, I'm just saying that those facial expressions and life decisions were questionable enough to make a guy think twice," Dick tries to reason.

Duke makes a face. "Bro, are you kidding? If a chick stares at you from across a lunch room and you've never spoke to her, you don't even try."

Damian scoffs. Duke raises an eyebrow, and just when he's about to beg for the story of who tied him to a steel chair and forced him to watch Twilight, you shoulder the double door open.

Damian doesn't look up from his newest book, which could be deemed rude if you weren't so close and comfortable with one another. "Evening, Beloved, how was your drive?"

You say nothing. You drop your bag by his feet, crawl the rest of the way onto the couch, and collapse. Your head in on a pillow between Damian's thighs and the arm of the couch, the rest of you divided unevenly between his lap and the rest of the couch.

He glances away from the pages briefly. "Traffic?" His hand slips under your shirt to gently run blunt nails up and down your spine.

For a moment, you're quiet, and neither of the two older men know how to react.

Then, without warning, you wail into the pillow. "Who the everloving fuck drives a Winnebago through central Gotham at six o'clock going fourteen miles an hour?"

Duke barks a loud laugh, before he claps a hand over his mouth in fear of a punishment. But a man can only do so much, so he sits with his hand over his mouth, giggling like a fifteen year old listening to a dirty joke with his parents in the room.

Damian chuckles lightly, white teeth peeking through a little smile that he's trying to suppress, much for the same reason Duke is doing his best not to let you hear him laugh.

Dick is more focused on the two of you, and the fact that his baby brother has grown up and changed for the better so much—

• • •

Cassandra climbs the stairs with some difficulty, thanks to two new sets of stitches and a few too many fresh bruises.

It's nothing a few days of relaxation won't fix. It was worth it, to see Poison Ivy put back behind bars—even if it did take four of you.

Shortly after arriving back, you and Damian had disappeared up to his room, after you'd both been checked over by Alfred. Aside from some intense bruising and a fee cuts and scrapes, you'd both been spared.

She knocks on his door a few times. With no answer, she loudly turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, giving you enough time to correct her if need be. She knows at least one of you are in here, because the light is on. "Alfred sent me to tell you that there's dinner, if you want–"

She stops. You are, in fact, both in the room. However, neither of you are conscious.

Damian is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, face half squished into a pillow.

You're flopped across his back, horizontal across his bed, likely also with a pillow, but she can't see your face to be sure.

For a moment that feels a little intrusive, she stares, eyes wide. Not because he's in only boxers and you're in shorts and a sports bra (neither are necessarily a new sight, with one makeshift locker room in the Cave and a city with way too many privacy-surpassing emergencies), but because she's never witnessed Damian allowing another person to be so close to him while asleep.

Even on week long stakeouts that confine them to one room, he claims one corner for himself and doesn't tolerate that invisible boundary to be broken, especially when he's asleep.

She wouldn't even be so surprised if you were passed out in his reading chair, or even on a pile of blankets in the floor, or hell, even if you were on opposite sides of the bed. But you're literally as close to him as you could possibly be. And he's still sound asleep.

She closes the door and backs away slowly, a little smile on her face, even though she was too tired to laugh at the joke Bruce tried to crack a few minutes ago.

• • •

Bruce sits, almost impatiently, on a stone bench by the fountain the middle of Gotham City Gardens. The whole family had come here for the day, on invitation of the organization's owners. Of course, not everyone was officially recognized as family by anyone outside the Manor, so there were quite a few plus ones—you being one of them.

Of course you were. You're always invited. Over the years, it's become a running joke. A trip to the grocery store? (Y/N) must be invited. Walking from the W.I. building to an ice cream parlor and back? I bet (Y/N) is invited. At one point, Damian became so simultaneously annoyed and amused by it that for a week, you really did join him on every single outing. No one knows how exactly you made it across Gotham in six minutes flat to help him pick up cereal but by golly you managed it.

Bruce is currently waiting on you and Damian, who swore to meet him here for a few pictures (at Alfred's request). The pair of you had gone off on your own after about an hour of meandering around with his family, and no one has heard from either of you since. He would be worried, but you were both too excited about this to get into any trouble that would risk being sent home early.

Your laughter finds him before you do. It comes from around a corner of tall hedges, and shortly after, so do you.

You're smiling ear to ear, giggling like a school girl, elbows balanced on Damian's shoulders, about as precariously as you are on his back. That is to say, quite stable. Damian is grinning as well, his arms linked around you're knees at his sides to keep you as stable as you are. You've got an ice cream cone in each hand, one obviously having had more attention than the other.

Bruce's heart swells in his chest at the absolute joy on his son's face.

Damian stops not too far, shifting your weight to free one hand. You help, carefully resituating yourself to hold yourself up easily. You hand him the neglected ice cream, resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Damian sounds a little winded, and Bruce wonders if the running he heard earlier had been you two. "Somebody found an ice cream bar and insisted we stop before meeting you." He doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"Hey!" You laugh, flicking the back of his ear as payback.

As payback for payback, he takes the edge of his cone between his teeth, and uses his free hand to give the back of your knee a quick pinch, before he occupies his hand again to tilt the odds in his favor.

You squeal and jerk. "Damian! You're gonna make me fall, and if I go down, you're coming with me!"

Bruce laughs loudly.

• • •

Alfred is on his way to the library to finish the afternoon chores. All he needs to do is straighten up in there, and he can call it an evening. Just in time, too, as one of the local channels is running a Downton Abbey marathon tonight that he doesn't particularly want to miss.

He pushes open the doors to get a little extra fresh air, but pauses just inside the doorway.

Damian is stretched out in one of the plush leather chairs, his long legs propped up by his ankles on the coffee table, head resting limply on the back of the chair. You're curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder, legs folded up on either side of his thighs, arms wound around his back. His hands are folded together on your back. You're both fast asleep.

The elder man is suddenly flooded with memories of the boy's first few months in this manor. In this room, even. He was politely feral, as Bruce had once put it. He was so uncomfortable all the time, though he fought not to show it. It was so new to him, to be openly cared for the way his family tried to care for him. Most people he met back then treated him as the cold, rude, trained assassin that he presented himself as.

So many overlooked the terrified ten year old boy that shook beneath the armor and the weight of the mantels he was expected to take up in so few years.

Of course Alfred had been paying attention to him all this time, all the growing he's done and the man he's becoming. He's always been proud.

But it's here, in this exact moment, that Alfred really takes in how different he is now, compared to then.

Not only did he find the strength and the trust to forge a close bond with you, one that would arguably outlast just about anything it was forced to endure, but he'd fostered such a sweet affection for you. He's found the space within himself to make room for a great love for you, and his family, and his friends.

And you're so good for him. You remind him of the things he could be, if he wanted, and not of what he should be or could have been. You provide him a sense of normalcy when he needs it, and battle ready companion when he needs that.

You look past the blazing armor of controlled aggression and lessons learned to reach the beautiful soul he is. And most importantly, you love him for all of it. You manage to dig so far beyond what he's been taught and the walls he's put up, that you look at what was meant to be the perfect soldier and you see a pillow to sleep on. You trust him with everything, including your vulnerability, just as he trusts you.

Alfred marks the page of the open book on the floor, closes it, and leaves it in the table for you later. He leaves as quietly as he came, in hopes of leaving the two of you undisturbed.

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne blurb

2K notes · View notes

babuis · 4 years ago

Text

Who Needs Memories? [Chilumi] - 1

Genre: Long Fic

Word Count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Lumine is not naive. Through her thousands of years living, she should know better. Should have learned better. She knew better then to trust someone who threw her insecurities into her face. So why was she here, standing in the room of the person who betrayed her while wanting to give him another chance?

Events from before the Golden House between Childe and Lumine to the unreleased future.

A/n: I’m deciding on whether I want to pursue this as a long fic in my google docs. Tbh I can really only write for Genshin when I’m in this strange, dreamy, longing mood where I wish to leave everything behind and enter the world of Genshin- it just feels so inviting and like home for some reason.

Pulled this out of my ass Bcs I’m in that mood rn. Sadness makes me poetic (but I’m not sad? Genshin gets me in a very dreamy mood)

So imma test it out by seeing how it’s received. Should I make this into a longer series?

Story starts before golden house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lumine couldn't go back to sleep.

This wasn't a new development. Since arriving in Teyvat, she had fallen victim to many sleepless nights or sleeps that were interrupted by night terrors she couldn't quite remember until much later when it was no longer important. Sometimes when she did sleep, her dreams would be filled with fragments of memories from the thousands of years she lived with her brother from world to world before all of this that refused to leave her mind.

Tonight she had dreamed about the time when they weren't in a particular world, but rather the period in between where they simply existed in the clouds.

Lumine and Aether sat on a large cloud, staring into the expanse before them. They sat with their knees hugged to their chest, feeling the last rays of the sun brush over them before nightfall.

"Hey Aether?'

"Hm?"

Lumine sighed as she lay lazily on her back. Her body sunk into the soft pillows of cloud ever so slightly and she stared up into the infinite abyss of the sky above their heads.

"Do you ever wonder what else is out there?' she questioned him, reaching her hand up, "We've been to so many worlds already. Will there be a point where we no longer learn new things?"

Aether scoffed lightly, turning his head to look at his twin, "We've been alive for thousands of years, have you yet to come to a world and not learn anything?"

"No," Lumine admitted, "But you said it yourself, we're so old already. What if one day..."

Aether sighed again, shifting to face his sister fully, "Don't worry about it. Worlds may be similar to each other. We may just arrive in them to fight a little, but there' always been subtle differences that make each special."

"Hmm," Lumine hummed, closing her eyes as a chill brushed over her body, "Do you think mom ever got bored?"

"Bored? She had twins."

Lumine chuckled lightly, "Yea, she did, didn't she?"

They didn't speak after that. Soon the vibrant colors of the sunset turned into the cool night sky and millions of stars twinkled around them, each representing a new world. Lumine shuddered slightly, wondering if her fears were silly. With so many worlds, surely there would be new things to see. A new purpose to have.

"We should go to that one next," Aether said, pointing to the brightest star to their left, "Burning up real bright."

Lumine nodded, shielding her eyes a bit from the light, "Sure is."

Aether lay down, settling beside her, "Go to sleep, Lumi," he said softly, "we got a new world ahead of that."

"Hmm," she hummed again, closing her eyes.

Soon, her brother's breathes turned steady as he fell asleep. She gave him one last peek before she too, succumbed to slumber.

Even if they explored all the worlds there were and learned everything there was to know, she would be okay just as long as she had Aether by her side to navigate her life with her.

And then he was gone.

Lumine shuddered as the wind blew towards her from the water. It seemed to be particularly cold in Liyue that night on the harbor. She sat on the wooden dock, letting her slender legs hang over the edge. The stars shined above her, much like they had in her dream.

Except this time she was sitting on the hard dock instead of the fluffy clouds and she was alone.

Her hair tickled her cheek as she dejectedly thought about Aether. They had come to this world, the brightest one to their left, together, only to be separated. They had never separated before and the anxious heaviness that took permanent hold of her chest became heavier as she remembered her dream.

I miss you Aether.

This world had been shockingly new from the rest of the ones she had visited. With it's divisions between the archons and people, it seemed like this world was made up of multiple ones with a complexity that she kept getting dragged into.

It was something her past self would have marveled excitedly at- there was just so much to learn. But without Aether, without her rock through it all, it almost seemed meaningless. Her only purpose now, was to find him.

Perhaps this is what she got for wishing for a new purpose in life. If she could go back and take it all back, she would.

"Hey girlie, it's dangerous for you to be so lost in thought this late at night. A bad man could come and sweep you away."

Ah, Childe.

Lumine turned her head to see the blue eyes ginger standing behind her, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked down at her. She licked her lips, turning away from him.

"What do you want, Fatui?" she asked harshly, "If you push me in the water, I'll blast you all the way to the stone forest."

Childe raised his hands up in surrender, a throaty chuckle making its way out of his mouth, "No need to be so hostile, I thought we shared a more intimate relationship than that."

"I'm warning you," Lumine said again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Childe took a seat beside her, looking into the distance where she was, "I would never, girlie. I'm a bad man but I wouldn't push an unsuspecting lady into the water."

"Sure you wouldn't, Fatui," Lumine said with disdain.

"I wouldn't," he repeated, "What are you looking at? Actually, what are you doing up so late? It's well past your bed time."

Lumine snorted, "You're not older than me."

"I'll have you know I'm a young adult," Childe protested.

Lumine gave him a wry smile, "As am I."

"You don't look a day older 18," Childe hmphed, "Pray tell, Ojou-chan, how old are you really?"

Lumine finally glanced at the ginger who was staring at her with curious eyes, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually," he said, not looking away.

'You wouldn't even be able to fathom it if you tried,' Lumine thought to herself, 'nor is it safe for me to tell you.'

Childe stared at Lumine some more, refusing to be the first to look away. Her golden eyes burned with something he couldn't quite place, but were at the same time quite hardened. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyebrows were softly furrowed into a stern looking pout.

'How cute,' he mused to himself, 'too bad you're just a pawn in Tsaritsa's game.'

"You don't trust me," he settled on saying, his mouth quirking to the side.

Lumine finally looked away, making Childe celebrate internally, 'ha! I win!'

"Why should I?" she muttered.

"I get it, La Signora gave you a bad impression," Childe said, "But like I said, I don't particularly like her either. I'm the black sheep of the Harbingers you know, we're not all like her."

Lumine didn't say anything. If she learned anything from her extensive existence, it was to not trust a man like Childe.

"Fine, then answer this for me since you're unwilling to share," Childe caved, "What are you doing up so late?"

Lumine shrugged, "It's not late. If I'm correct, it's a new day."

"Fine smart ass," Childe sassed her, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I guess I'm an early bird then," Lumine said vaguely, not wanting to mention her lack of sleep.

"Great answer."

The two sat in silence again, the breeze blowing even harder. Lumine shivered again at the wind's caress which prompted Childe to shrug off his jacket to give to the blonde. Lumine noticed and put her hand up to stop him hurriedly, not wanting to create even more debt to the Harbinger.

"You're cold," Childe insisted, "Take it."

Lumine frowned, "No, you're cold. You take it."

"Ojou-chan," he said, exasperated, "I'm from Snezhnaya, a bit of wind isn't going to kill me."

Lumine raised an eyebrow, "I use Anemo powers, a little bit of wind isn't going to kill me either."

"But it'll make you sick."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

She knew it wouldn't. It had been a very long time since Lumine had gotten sick, the last time being in a world with giant man eating beings. The only reason for her sickness, of course, wasn't her health, but the disgusting stench of dead bodies.

Lumine stubbornly stood up and started walking down the dock back towards the center of the town where she was staying. She was done with this conversation- done with him. However, Childe seemed to have other plans as he followed the petite girl down the paved road.

"Stop following me," came Lumine's cutting words, not even bothering to look back.

'Charming,' Childe thought as he ignored her words, "It's dangerous for a pretty girl to roam around the town in the dark."

Lumine simply rolled her eyes, coming to a halt in front of a random building, "I'm not in danger of the Milleleth anymore, and I'm sure I could handle some petty thieves if I did a dragon."

"Ah, that's right. I'm talking to the Hero of Mondstadt here," Child said teasingly, 'and the biggest pain in the ass to Tsaritsa.'

Lumine gave him an unimpressed look, "I suppose that's right, so as you can see, I can handle myself."

'If anything, you're the biggest threat in this town,' she thought distastfully.

"Alright then, Ojou-chan, I'm off-"

Before he could finish his goodbye, he was cut off by a large growl emitting from Lumine's stomach. For the first time that night, Lumine lost her composure and blushed a bright red and her body burned hotter than the sun despite the chilly morning air. Childe paused, blinking twice, before busting out into laughter that caused the girl to further lose composure.

'Damn this near mortal body!' Lumine cursed, 'I never had to eat this often before!'

"Hahaha!" he laughed heartily, clutching his sides, "Did you perhaps eat the dragon to defeat it?" he teased her.

Lumine growled, "Shut up," she said hotly.

"Say, why don't I take you and Paimon to get some food then?" Childe suggested, "I'm sure you're hungry and you wouldn't turn down free food when you lack Mora."

Lumine grumbled quietly to herself, knowing he was right. She had very little Mora left thanks to Paimon spending so much on food and she was admittedly hungry. Hunger was a foreign concept to her body up until recently, and she detested the very idea of it.

"Don't be stubborn Ojou-chan," Childe persisted, "I did afterall, save you from the Millelith didn't I?"

Lumine begrudgingly nodded her head, "Fine," she said quietly, "Let me get Paimon first."

And so they walked side by side to her inn- that he helped he book- to fetch Paimon and go eat. They walked leisurely, as if they weren't two people that were on drastically different sides. They walked as if they were acquaintances- as if they were friends to the unknowing eye.

Lumine knew she shouldn't. She should have stopped all interaction after that one time he helped her out by clearing her name. Shouldn't have accepted the help nor the Mora from him- no matter how broke she was. She could have found a way or slept on the outskirts of the town. She shouldn't be accepting his invitation to eat.

What was wrong with her?

Teyvat had proved to be full of surprises, her behavior being one of them. It had been months since she woke up from her slumber. When was the last time she had stayed in one place for so long? Fought off monsters for other people rather than the thrill of the fight?

It didn't matter, Lumine supposed. What mattered was finding her brother and what happened after that would be a future Lumine problem. What else was there to do after finding her brother? What was the purpose of her world hopping?

Lumine no longer remembered.

As they neared the inn where she left Paimon, she could hear the floating girl's shrill and angry voice scolding her for leaving. Paimon's voice only turned more sour when she saw the Fatui next to her.

"Lumine!" the pixie exclaimed, "You can't leave to go rendezvous with the enemy!"

Lumine gave the little girl an unimpressed look, "I did no such thing, he's cashing in a favor."

"A favor?" Childe interrupted, "Considering I'm paying for your food, I'd say I'm doing a service and you know owe me a favor."

Paimon looked angry for a second, "Lumine! You can't just- wait, did Paimon just hear you say food?"

"Sure did little one," Childe grinned, "Come on, it's my treat."

And just like that, Paimon's anger disappeared at the promise of something warm to fill her stomach. Constellations materialized around her floating body as she followed the ginger to a restaurant he claimed that he knew 'they would just love.'

Lumine lingered at the steps of the inn, staring up into the sky that was now painted with the vibrant colors of the sunrise.

What was the purpose of her life?

Lumine basked in the warmth of the sun and found comfort in the lack of visible stars in the sky.

Lumine didn't remember.

Perhaps she never knew.

62 notes · View notes