#but probably not so if you want to write my strange idea go straight ahead lol
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ruleroftheimps · 17 days ago
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Okay, fuck it, I gave into the temptation, and I am typing out this idea.
Radiostatic with A/B/O dynamics. Alpha Alastor, Omega Vox, it's mostly about taking care of the other and protecting them so platonic bonds are totally possible. Vox's Omega status is actually pretty well known, and has been ever since he became an Overlord.
In the past, Vox and Alastor were best friends, and maaaaybe a bit more around the 1970s. They were basically inseparable, and the main reason nobody bugged Vox about his status, was, well... who's going to bug the Radio Demon's friend about anything?
Vox is used to feeling oppressed by whatever mate he picks because of his status, and basically decided that, even if he has a mate, he never wants to be marked and have the ability to use suppressants/change mates/etc taken away from him, even though he's pretty much set on never leaving Alastor. Seriously, Alastor cannot escape him if he wanted to. Alastor respects this HUGELY, especially because Vox's reaction to finding out Alastor doesn't like sex was basically just 'Oh, okay. What's for dinner?' So, they're happy in their relationship, whatever it is.
That is, until a newly fallen sinner gets a bit too arrogant while Vox is drinking at a bar and tries to forcibly mark him. Unsurprisingly, they get zapped, but Vox is still shaken. Especially when the fact that if he ever does get overpowered and claimed, that could affect the power in Hell is brought up at the Overlord meeting literally the next day.
So, influenced heavily by waaaay too much alcohol, he decides to ask Alastor, his trusted partner and closest friend in Hell to mark him. Just so, that way, he can't be claimed by anybody else forcibly. And besides, he's never going to leave Alastor, they'll always be a dynamic duo, so it'll work out just fine!
...right?
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adventuringblind · 1 year ago
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(●’◡’●)ノ, I'm in loove with your Oscar Piastri x autistic!reader series, it gives really beautiful perspective on navigating relationships while being neurodivergent. I was wondering if you do a imagine/headcannon for Oscar and reader and how they navigate sexual intimacy in particular, like do's and donts, emotions during it stuff like that. If ur not comfortable writing that then it's ok, I just thought it would be interesting ♡
Bedroom Procedures
Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader
Genre: spicy things ahead but not smut
Request: the way I ran to write this... send me more ideas like this please they are my favorite to write!
Summary: Oscar and Reader navigate through intimacy
Warnings: again... spicy things. However there is no real depiction of anything happening!
Notes: aight, so this is again how I navigate because that's what I know. This is not a depiction of how every autistic person is when it comes to being intimate. Remember that autism is a spectrum and everyone is different.
Masterlist
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Being intimate with each other actually took a long time
At least longer than what is probably average
And that's in opinion
She wants to have sex with Oscar
It's just that it's difficultt and there are so many different feelings that is gets overwhelming quickly
It doesn't help she's trying to dive straight in whenever they try it
Oscar pays attention however
Her body language is how he can understand her feelings
So he knows exactly what he's doing even if she doesn't get it yet
The next time things get a little heated, Oscar slows them both down
"Why are you stopping? Did I do something wrong?"
"Absolutely not, just thought we would try something different."
In her head, different is strange because there is usually an order to these things, and it should become routine eventually
Oscar has other plans
He starts taking their intimate moments incredibly slow
Introducing her to different sensations and letting her tell him what she likes and doesn't
Soon, he has a comprehensive list of dos and don'ts
Like how sometimes she prefers to keep on a loose shirt because otherwise the skin on skin is to much
Not all the time
He always asks before they do anything if she would like to wear one of his shirts
Or how her biting him is usually a good sign because it means she's happy
(Something she does even when they aren't having sex)
Oral is a grey area for her
Sometimes, she'll suck him off for hours, and others, she gets overwhelmed just thinking about it
Oscar doesn't care, though, because he loves her no matter what she's feeling up to
One thing he was not expecting was for her to be relatively kinky
Experimenting is everything
Hard yes and no things but down to try before deciding
Oscar got a bit experimental after he got a general idea and their bedroom communication was good
Again... communication is a key point
He's always asking questions and reading her body just as she is with him
The fact that it's a vulnerable state and both of them are connecting in a way with emotions that even sex itself can't give is incredibly intimate
They don't even make it there sometimes because the emotional ties are just so deep that they simply spend time memorizing each other
Another thing is vocals
Oscar is usually composed and level-headed
Sex however is completely different
It's where he is able to express himself in ways he couldn't before
Also, listening to his voice is something that helps her know if she's doing okay
She also experiments with her voice
Vocal stimming during sex happens often, and it happens when she is on the edge
Her parroting is endearing ad well
Sometimes Oscar will moan or hum in a way and she will copy
A non-verbal agreement to keep going
Can go for maybe two rounds maximum
Maybe three or four but that's on a good day
Follows a routine of how things go down and there is definitely communication beforehand
Even if both parties are in the heat of the moment, he will not start anything without giving an idea of what will happen
It's like an unwritten rule so that she isn't trying to read the situation and get frustrated with herself if she can't understand what's happening
Clear cut yes and no
There is no maybe
All communication is cut and dry, and there is no beating around the bush
Because of her willingness to touch, but only from those she's allowed, Oscar is a teeny tiny bit possessive
If anyone touches her who she's not comfortable with he won't hesitate to bite her in reciprocation
She bites him, he bites her, it's a pattern they keep going because he knows its her love language
Also, it creates some fun on other places
Really the two are very good at setting boundaries and communicating
It makes things fun for both of them and there is never any feelings hurt
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obislittleone · 9 months ago
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The Winner Takes It All
Episode 12
Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader
Chapter Warnings: this might be the saddest one... or maybe I'm delusional and it can only get worse from here. Anyways, death, canon typical violence, drowning, my sweet baby Lukas is trying his best as always... oh yeah a hUGE AMOUNT OF ANGST
Chapter Summary: This is the endgame, there are four tributes remaining. Who will live, and who will die? The choice has never been up to the tributes.
Word Count: 3.8k
my live action cinderella dress (movie accurate) is finally done so expect me to have a lot more editing time. I will also probably have more writing time so expect some endings to unfinished series.
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“He had f-feelings for me?” Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth.  “He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”
You’d been silent. Not quiet, but absolutely silent. Lukas didn’t try to make you be anything else… but he did have to keep you moving. It wasn’t much later in the day, but the sun was already setting. The minimal amounts of light only being shown through the small openings of the tree canopy. It was harder to tell where you were going. Nothing looked the same as it did yesterday, or the day before. You could swear you’d walked through here to get to the stream, but the path had somewhat changed along the way. 
As drowned in your thoughts as you’d been right after it happened, your entire body, including your brain, had been numbed to Rodey’s death. His blood was still on your hands. Figuratively and literally. You didn’t stare at it too long, forgetting to let your gaze linger on anything except the path ahead, and Lukas, who was three steps in front of you. 
You both were half of the remaining tributes. It was a miracle you both had made it this far, but now that the numbers had dwindled, there were two other tributes left who were hunting the both of you. It was better to keep moving than to sit like a duck and let one of them take their victory. 
The longer you went without finding the stream, your need for freshwater had grown exponentially. It was strange how the past few days it would rain for hours, but now that you actually needed water it ceased to exist… in a literal rainforest. That was the peak behavior of a game maker, to play sinisterly. 
“We can stop here for now. Maybe if I can get up one of these trees I’ll be able to spot the stream again.” 
You barely minded what he was saying, giving a small nod to at least show you heard him. You didn’t care much to speak anymore, not even to the person who you felt the most patience from. He was doing fine without the constant dialogue of the days before, and you knew he’d be fine without it till the end. He was going to win, there was no doubt in your mind. You’d thought that perhaps it could be him or Rodey, but Rodey died saving you. Now you would do the same for Lukas, whenever the situation finally came. 
You sat down, back against a tree trunk and head dropped forward, eyes making an instant connection with the dried blood on your body. Even if you scrubbed at yourself for hours, there was no chance you could get rid of it all. You have the blood of two allies on your hands, now. That’s as many as you’re willing to have. 
Lukas had set down his pack, starting to climb the roots and knots of the tree’s enormous base, when a tiny parachute descended straight towards him. You looked up when you heard the familiar sound it made, watching it fall into the boy’s hands. 
“Head’s up,” he called, tossing you one of two canteens full of water. You took it gratefully, beginning to drink up as much as you could take. 
Lukas smiled before looking down to the note included. 
Talk to her for me, tell her it’s not her fault. - F
He sighed, trying to come up with any ideas on what he could possibly say. There’s no way to know if she’ll even be open to a conversation. There’s no indicator that she even wants to speak at all. But this is a sponsor that keeps them from having to exhaust their resources, and Finnick asked for something simple in return. He doesn’t understand why Finnick is so dead set on coddling you in this arena. It’s not like things are going to get any better from here. It’s an absolute fact that the time can only become worse, until everyone meets their end but one. 
But against his logic, and against what his brain is telling him, his gut wants to follow his mentor’s instructions… So he does. 
He sits beside you at the base of the tree, his own canteen in hand and his pack in the other. 
“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he assumed, given the fact that you’ve literally said nothing since it happened. “But what happened, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?” 
You reasoned with the scene over in your head, and the only way it didn’t end the same way is if he didn’t choose to jump in front of you. It was hard to think about, because you feel responsible. He wouldn’t have jumped if you weren’t there. But if you weren’t there, she’d only have him to charge at. It all ends the same every time. He was faster than you, braver than you. He would have stepped time and again, and you couldn’t stop him. 
“He s-saved me. It was f-for me.”
“I know.”
You closed your canteen and let it roll out of your hands and onto the ground next to you, curling your legs to your chest and trying to comfort yourself. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was adamant for you to do so, it was going to be on your terms. 
He seemed to be stumbling for more words, and only came across some having rambled a thought from his head. 
“I wish he’d never told you…”
“T-told me what?”
He hadn’t caught onto the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about. So like a dumbass, he kept going. 
“About his feelings for you. I told him a few days ago it could only hurt you. Then again I also told him it was a good idea so I guess we were both stupid,” his rambling of a response made your eyes widen in both shock and anger. 
“He had f-feelings for me?”
Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth. 
“He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”
For some reason, this information didn’t hurt you as much as it should. Instead, it angered you. How could he possibly have been so stupid to sacrifice himself in the name of feelings for someone he’d only recently met? How could he have given up a possible win, just to show his devotion. Had it been an instinctual move of protection, you could have accepted it… but no. 
“I s-should be dead r-right now. All these p-people around me, dropping l-like flies. And I’m still h-here.”
“Don’t say things like that. Look, I get it. You feel responsible…”
You nodded, because yes, you absolutely did. Your ally’s blood is on your hands, and no matter how many times you scrub it away, it will always be there. 
“But I feel responsible for you. I’d rather it be any of them than you, understand?” He finished off, his look of seriousness piercing yours of confused emotion. Sadness, anger, guilt. Probably more, but you can’t identify them.
You nodded, but his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything it just made things worse. He was still trying to protect you, and you couldn’t stand losing one more ally. Especially not him. He had to be the one to make it out of here. You’d been thinking about it so much more the past several hours, now that only four remain. You’ve only gotten this far because of your allies, but now they are almost gone. It’s on the verge of every man for himself, but you know Lukas won’t let you die on your own. If it comes down to the two of you, you have every intention of throwing yourself from the top of a tree so he can go home. You don’t think you’ll survive the other two tributes, however. 
“You’re g-going to win, y’know.”
He sighed, looking at the ground and shrugging. Maybe they are true, the things that you say. He just hopes they aren’t. 
“I’m not so sure anymore. If I were a gambling man, I’d have to put money on you.”
“Well then it’s a g-good thing you don’t gamble,” you smiled, trying to expel every other feeling you had, and only hold onto one emotion at a time. The air was light, just around the two of you. Old friends, fighting for their lives, but they can still make the other smile, or laugh. It’s simply what friends can do. 
Lukas hopes that he doesn’t leave this arena without you. He is praying to anyone that can hear his thoughts that if he watches you die, he’ll die too. It’s not like he has anything to go back to, anyway. 
“Promise m-me something, for when you get h-home?” You asked, his curiosity piqued. “Promise me that you’ll take care of m-my family. My brother, make sure he d-doesn’t ever have his name in the bowl more than it h-has to be.”
He smiled. He hadn’t even thought about his own family, his mother. Probably because he didn’t consider her to be so, anymore. 
“I promise, if I get out of here, I will.”
“T-thank you, Lukas.” 
He leaned against you, his head resting on the tree while your own head was on his shoulder. You’d be perfectly content with dying if you could just drift away like this. Everything now was peaceful, and you’d left no stones unturned. Your family would be taken care of if Lukas lived, you know he’s good on his word. You know that having spoken with him, and even sitting here with him now, you will have resolved everything with him. There’s nothing else you need to know… except-
“Lukas?”
“Yeah?”
“W-why did you volunteer?”
He took a deep inhale beside you, then went stiff as the reasoning coursed through his mind. He could lie and say it was an impulsive mistake. He could come up with literally a million other things that would sound plausible for any kid on why they would do something so stupid. But he wasn’t any kid, and you weren’t just some bystander. You were his best friend. Either of you could die any moment, so he wanted to make sure you got nothing but the truth. 
“The morning of the reaping, my mom and I had that argument,” he recalled. You nodded along, remembering the scene vividly. He hadn’t been himself until he’d gotten on a boat. The water always seemed to calm him down. “I’d been feeling better after work, but I went home to shower and get dressed.”
He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to bring it all back into recollection. The nasty look on his mother’s face, the way she swore at him and spewed her insanity. Thinking back to it now, him volunteering is just what she wanted. It would have been better to refuse volunteering out of spite. 
“She told me I would never measure up to my father, and that there was no point in trying. When I asked her what she wanted from me, she told me she wished I had died in his place.”
Your hand immediately found his in a tight and reassuring grip when you heard this. It was just like his mother to go off and say some shit like that. Something that would scar him the rest of his life and force him to go immeasurable lengths, and for what?
“I told her I would volunteer if she wanted me dead so badly. She said I might as well, because it would be the only way to bring some pride back to our family. The sad thing is, I didn’t regret it until they called your name…”
“I’m s-so sorry,” you whispered to him, barely heard above the humming and buzzing of the rainforest. You clung to him, hoping that this could bring the smallest semblance of comfort in a place that exudes horror and danger. He clung right back to you, being still in your embrace as it was one of normalcy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hug you, or look at you, or talk to you. Even simply being in your presence wasn’t something he was going to take for granted, because he knew that soon, he would never be able to again, whichever way it went. 
-
The day continued on, and the sun was setting much faster than you would ever anticipate. Probably because it wasn’t a real sun, and any glimpse of normalcy was non-lasting. It couldn’t be, because there had to be reminders that this was not the wilderness, and you were not safe. You would die any second. There were only four tributes remaining. You could imagine that things were getting tense back in the capitol. You couldn’t imagine the kid from eleven had garnered much of a fan base with Lukas being the prized tribute this year. You doubted the girl from one was getting any special attention, either. Not that they needed it. Estelle was most definitely the most qualified remaining tribute, a career who has trained for this moment all her life… but still, you’re sure Lukas will win it from her. 
While walking in the marshy rainforest, you’re quickly reminded how easily this game can end. 
You hear a branch snap a bit down the trail behind you, and you freeze. 
“Lukas…” you whisper, drawing the knife from your hip. 
He heard another branch, and turned his head, the boy named Brock from eleven quickly approaching, with Estelle on his heels. Whether or not she was chasing him, no one could be sure, but they both had a determined look in their eye, and all it took was one word for you to bolt ahead like lightning. 
“Run.”
The branches below you snapped in half, the pressure of your rapid footsteps was intense enough to squash any animal or snake that dared slither into your path. 
You could hear Lukas’ hard breath intake, as he was passing you every few seconds, then trailing a step behind, only to look back and make sure they weren’t gaining too quickly… except for they were. This was going to end in a face off, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t run forever, and it was just a matter of time. You were ready to die, and you would protect Lukas. 
You tripped over your steps, holding your hand out to stop Lukas in his tracks before he fell. 
Well, at least you’d found the waterfall. The only downside is, you were at the top of it, having run onto a ledge that was at least a thirty foot drop into deep waters, raging from the pressure of the falls. There was no way you were making that jump without drowning. You’d probably have a heart attack on the way down and die before hitting the water. 
“W-what do we do?” You turned to your counterpart, and he whipped his head back at the two approaching tributes. 
“We’ve gotcha, now!” Estelle could be heard shouting, the sound getting far too close for comfort. It was now evident that they had been teamed up on this effort. “Nowhere to run!”
Lukas yanked your arm, pulling you beside him. 
“Do you trust me?” he asked sincerely, the look in his eyes made you scared, like he was thinking irrationally, and he was… but it was all he could come up with. 
“Yes,” you nodded, but grabbed his hand which was still on your arm. “Lukas?” 
He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t answer your call of his name. He didn’t even give you a second to understand what the hell he was about to do. He just did it. 
Within a moment, gravity became your enemy, and you went flying backwards off the edge of the cliffside, arms and legs flailing as you screamed all the way down into the waters. You sucked in a quick breath before being  fully submerged, hammered down by the constant onslaught of heavy water. 
Lukas took off, running away while the others were distracted by your fall into the depths. He ran towards the forest again, trying to jump logs and dodge trees, anything that could make their path to him harder. 
Brock was still looking over the edge, having been surprised by the play of events. 
“Let’s go, we can’t let him get far,” Estelle pulled him by the shoulder, turning him to the rainforest patches again.
“What about the girl?” 
Estelle scoffed, “We’ll hear a cannon in a few minutes, she can’t swim.” 
And with that, they took off.
Immediately being in water, the panic set into your mind. You were clawing around, trying to make it out, reaching out for anything that you could use to pull yourself up… but with the pressure beating down over you, you sank deeper, and deeper, with no savior to jump in after you, now. This was it. This was the moment you had to choose. 
Live, or Die.
Last time you chose to die, but there was nothing on the line. Lukas is on the line now. He is the only person you swore you were going to protect in this arena, and you had to find a way out of here if that was going to happen. 
You tried to quiet your mind, to forget the past and just how much you hated being in this water. You were ignoring just how badly your arms ache while attempting to paddle to the surface. You forgot it all and remembered the boy you’ve known since childhood. You remembered all the times he stood up for you against the kids mocking your stutter. You remembered just how much he’s done for you and is still doing for you… and suddenly, your head breaks through the surface, and you’re able to crawl into the small cavern behind the waterfall. 
You start heaving breaths, rapidly letting the air tear through your lungs, now that they had access to air in the first place. You smiled to yourself once you were able to get high enough on the rocks to stand. You survived. You’d been dealt a hand that was completely out of your favor and you managed to climb out and breathe the air around you. 
Your excitement was immediately cut off when you heard a cannon sound. 
You didn’t waste a minute in climbing the rocks as fast as you could, albeit a little clumsy from having wet hands and shoes. Your mind raced, and you hoped that your heart pounding would be eased, and you would be wrong about your suspicions. 
“No, n-no,” you shook your head, running into the rainforest and looking around frantically. You took several turns, and couldn’t see anything or anyone, but you had your knife drawn anyway. You were practically panting by now, the heaviness in your breath never dwindling. 
The minute you came to a clearing, your eyes falling on the person in front of you, your eyes watered with tears. 
“Lukas,” you slid down to your knees next to his limp frame, pulling him into your lap to hold him. “Wake up. W-wake up, Lukas, I’m h-here.” 
He didn’t budge, but as you rocked him, you were able to see the source of this tragedy, the trail of blood, streaming from his chest and over his body in gushes. It was all over your hands, and it was all over your arms. It was all over you. You were covered in his blood, just like you were covered in Rodey’s dried blood. You’d let another ally sacrifice themselves for you. You swore you wouldn’t. 
This wasn’t just another ally, and this wasn’t just a tribute you’d met a week ago. This was the best friend you’d ever had. The person who grew up alongside you into a wonderful man. He was the person who comforted you when you felt too embarrassed to go to a family member. He was the boy who’d complimented you when no other boy would dare. He was the one who brought you shells every morning from his walk to the docks. And now he is the boy who’s blood you are covered in, crying over miserably. 
You can’t bring yourself to part with him, to let him go. You know if you do, something different will become of you. Something you have never been before. So you don’t. You cling to him, and you cry, and you let the thunder that begins to rumble above you reflect your emotion. It’s been a day since it’s rained in this rainforest, but even still, the rain doesn’t pour, it only trickles slightly. Enough to remind you that despite this loss, and despite the fact that you will never be the same, you are still in this arena, and there is only one way out. 
You raise your head, and hear another sound of a cannon. You look around, but there is no sign of movement or of other tributes. 
There’s only one left, and despite what you’ve said since the moment you entered this God forsaken place, despite your morals, and despite these tributes not being your real enemy, there is only one thing on your mind, and you will not rest until you’ve attained it…
As you move to stand, you roll Lukas’ body on his back, placing his hands over his chest to be at rest. You hate that this is how his story ends. You want to bury him, you want to give him a proper memorial, but you know this arena will be scrapped by the capitol for next year’s use, and this spot will be desecrated soon after you arrange it. So you’ve decided you will raise a memorial of him back home, when you arrive there. 
Your tears are still running hot, but there’s a new fire under them that hadn’t been there before. There’s an anger you’ve never felt before. There’s a glint in your eyes that will not be satisfied.
You turn your head at the familiar sound of an incoming parachute, the contents of the container seem to be large, as there’s an entire box being lowered in. You watch it fall to the ground, in disbelief at the sheer size of it alone. It comes up to about your knees, and you wonder, what could Finnick have sent me?
You flick open the top, and immediately see the contents of the inside. Rope, lots and lots of rope. Several carabiners are included that could be used for rock climbing, but you know, and he knows, that’s not what you have in mind. 
You pick up the note, two little wet spots appearing from the tears in your eyes, and the rain from above. 
Show no Mercy… - F
-
tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn
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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago
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Thomas Barrow x Male!reader - love to hate you, hate to love you
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Part 10:
The next day you were getting ready for your night when there was a knock on your door.
“Lord Grantham is asking for you.”
“Thank you Markus I’m on my way up.”
You put your sword on your hip and he led you to the drawing room and you bowed your head in respect as you entered.
“My lord, you asked for me?”
“Ah yes, I was actually going through some of the land owners today, and I came across a familiar name. Chiron, he’s a friend of yours is he not?”
“He is my lord yes.”
“He purchased a large mass of land from me, I was wondering perhaps if you knew why, it was an odd thing to see.”
You nodded your head.
“Of course my Lord, as you are aware I grew up in place with many other teenagers. Well, Chiron had decided to bring that here.”
“Oh how wonderful.” Lady Cora smiled.
You smiled back and gave a nod of your head.
“Do you think he would accept if we requested to visit the land, I should like to see what he’s done with such a large mass of land.”
“He would gladly accept my lord yes, in fact I’m going to be up there for the weekend of you would like to come then, we do have rooms available should you like to stay the night. Though it is rather bumpy there are no roads so no cars can get there, but we can have people help.”
“I see, thank you. I will come down on the Saturday and stay.”
“Oh Robert do let me come, I should like to see the man that raised such a polite young man.” Lady Cora smiled.
“Does he have a telephone?”
“Yes my my lord, I will write down the number for you and have Mr Carson pass it along.”
“Thank you, that’s all.”
“Very good my lord.”
You wrote down the number, and you quickly shadow travelled to the camp to warn Chiron about the visit ahead of time.
“I see, well, we can hide somethings, and have the demigods address you by name for the weekend. But what about the training? The armour?”
You sighed.
“Uhm.. tell him it’s tradition? They don’t know much about ancient Greeks, so they would believe it, but what will you do?”
“If I remember correctly I was rather good at hiding the fact I was a centaur from you.”
“Ah yes the magic wheelchair that apparently solves all your issues.”
Chiron rolled his eyes.
“Where will the stay?”
“Lord and Lady Grantham can stay in the big house, the ladies maid… Athena’s cabin… and the valet…”
“There’s no room in any other cabins.”
“My cabin, I have a spare room.”
“Then it’s sorted, everything will be ready for Saturday but are you sure it’s a good idea?”
“Why did you buy the land?!”
Chiron looked at you.
“We need a farm, what else was I to do?”
“I don’t know! Oh bloody hell Chiron…”
You pinched the bridge if your nose.
“As long as he tells us prior visits we should be fine.” Chiron said.
“Where did you even get money to buy land?”
“I have savings.”
“I strangely enough don’t believe that but fine, just make sure everything suspicious can be explained I really don’t want to be trying to explain this to him. The ladies maid will.. probably be Anna or Mrs Hughes I assume but… I don’t know who the valet will be. Maybe Mr Bates but this will be hard terrain for him.”
“We’ll have it all ready.”
You nodded and left, appearing in your office.
You were so busy over the next few nights you hardly saw anyone, and on Friday you left again, straight to the Hade’s cabin, and you unpacked your things.
You were dreading tomorrow but you were hoping it would go well.
You spent that night at the big house drawing up plans and ensuring everything was ready for the weekend, and as the following morning came around, you waited at the end of the road with a few of the older demigods.
“Why are we doing this?” One whispered.
“Because he’s the Earl, that’s why you fool. Be polite and respectful. Ensure you remember what you were told.” You hissed.
He quickly nodded and you heard the call of your name.
“They need your help in the forge!”
“Come help these then!”
You swapped places with Leon and you jogged down the dirt path, past a few buildings and you stood in front of the forge.
“You needed me?”
“I’m sorry, we just don’t have the time to do these one by one. We need a faster way of making them.”
He set a sword in a barrel of water.
You looked at it.
“How many are you making at a time?”
“Two.”
“How many can you fit at a time.”
“Maybe six.”
“Have you tried it?”
“I’m scared somethings going to go wrong if I do..”
You nodded and took your jacket and waistcoat off, setting them on a nearby bench, you rolled up your sleeves and pulling on an apron.
“Right, you two over here.”
Two more jogged over.
“Is this safe?”
“I’ll be completely honest I’m not sure, maybe we should have Arthur on hand just in case…?” You mumbled.
“I’m already here and waiting for your plan to go belly up.”
You glared at the man and he grinned at you a little as he sat on the bench watching.
You got the next six swords ready to be worked and all four of you put them into the oven, carefully watching.
“I think it works.”
You turned around and walking over to a cart fully of metal scraps.
“Is there more coming?”
“A load more this afternoon.” Arthur said.
You nodded and saw familiar faces being led down the dirt path by Chiron in his wheelchair.
Smiling, you walked over and stood in front of them.
“My lord, my lady, thank you for coming.” You said.
“Thank you for having us, Chiron told us you already have everything planned out where we’ll be staying?” Lady Cora asked.
“Yes my lady, you two will be in the big house, and Mrs Hughes and Mr Barrow will be staying in the cabins.”
You heard some yelling and you turned around.
“Oh no…”
You ran up and into the smoke, grabbing the arms of Demigods you pulled them out of the smoke and ran back in.
You grabbed the final one and there was a load bang, and the pair of you were throwing to the ground by the sheer force.
You hit the floor and groaned a little, sitting up to watch people throwing buckets of water on the fire.
“What did you do?” Chiron asked.
You pushed yourself up and looked at him.
“Completely my fault, we may have pushed the oven to its limits…”
“So you decided to blow up the forge?” He asked.
“Okay so accidents happen, we know better now. And it’ll be fixed in a few hours anyway.”
There was a second smaller explosion and you looked over.
“Somethings stuck!”
You ran over and looked at it, reaching your hand in you pulled out a small bit of metal and the turned off the fire and you waved you hand in the air trying to ease the pain.
“Arthur!” Someone yelled.
“I’m fine, Arthur go away!”
You dodged him and walked back over to stand in front of them smiling a little.
“Sorry, I’m sure that does not make a good light for the tour. But it was my fault.”
“Is your hand alright?” Lord Grantham asked.
Arthur room your hand and you slapped his hand away.
“It will be yes, just a few small burns nothing major my lord.”
“Let me take a look.”
Arthur slapped your hand away and he took your hand while you huffed and wrapped it in a bandage.
“Come see me if it gets worse. And stop being so stubborn!”
He walked away and you rolled your eyes.
“(Y/N)?!”
You sighed.
“I’m sorry but I must go.”
Walking back over to the forge.
They watched as you spoke with the others and you walked around the front, climbing on the windows and shutters until you were on the roof.
They tossed some things up to you and you caught them.
“Should we carry on our tour?” Chiron asked.
“Yes of course.” Lord Grantham said.
They looked at you once more before being led away.
You fixed the broken roof, and you jumped down, setting the tools aside.
“Try four this time.” You said.
“They might be best, but still won’t be fast enough.”
“We’ll expand then, over the weekend carry on with this and I’ll talk to Chiron about it.”
With that, you grabbed your belongings and pulled them back on before making your way to the big house where Chiron was sat with everyone in the living room.
“We need to expand the forge.”
“Why?” Chiron asked.
“So we don’t blow it up again.”
“I’ll look at the plans later.”
You nodded your head and clasped your hands behind your back.
“How do you find it my lady?” You asked.
“Oh it is wonderful, is this the man you told us about?”
“Yes my lady, this is Chiron, he raised me and taught me all I know.”
She smiled and nodded her head, and you walked over to the desk, sitting down you went through some of the papers.
“Do you work here too?” Lord Grantham asked.
“Yes my lord. On my days off and half days I come here to help out.”
“Is it not exhausting?” Lady Cora asked.
“Not at all my lady. I missed this dearly when I moved back to England, I’m glad to have this so close.”
They carried on talking and you stood up, taking some papers with you, you padded to room opposite the living room and set them down on the table.
You walked back into the living room and stood next to Thomas and Mrs Hughes.
A young teenager came in looking a little lost.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but luncheon is ready.”
“Thank you Jones, go on, go sit down.” Chiron smiled.
The teen nodded and ran away, and you led everyone out to the tables.
“Where is everybody sitting?” Lord Grantham asked.
“Well, we’re separated into tables, based on the cabin names. You and her ladyship will sit at the big table with Chiron, Mrs Hughes and Mr Barrow can sit wherever they’d like.” You said.
“Very well, is there no footmen?” Lord Grantham asked.
“I’m afraid not my Lord, but everything is already laid out for you.”
He nodded his head and looked to the large fire in the middle of all the tables.
“We don’t have to do that do we?” Lady Cora asked.
“No my lady, that’s just for the others.” Chiron chuckled.
You took Mrs Hughed and Thomas over to the rest of the tables.
“Sit wherever youd like.”
“Where do you sit?” Mrs Hughes asked.
You pointed to an empty table.
“All alone?”
“It’s just myself in my cabin.”
“May we sit with you?” Thomas asked.
“Should you want to of course.”
You led them over and sat them down before sitting down yourself.
Putting some food on your plate, you took it to the fire and tossed some in before going to sit down.
“Mrs Hughes, I hope you don’t mind staying in a cabin full of strangers, if you do we can always move you.”
“Nonsense, I’m sure they’re lovely people, and I should love to hear more about this way of life.” She smiled.
“Is this how you were raised?” Thomas asked.
You nodded your head and looked around, gesturing for one of the young demigods lurking nearby to come over and he handed you a dagger.
“It’s breaking…”
“Would you like me to fix it for you?”
“Yes please my friend gave it to me..”
You nodded your head.
“Go eat, I’ll have it fixed in a few hours.”
You set the dagger on the table and carried on eating.
“Is that real?” Mrs Hughes asked.
“It has to be, he’s got one and all.” Thomas said.
“It is real, it’s tradition.” You said.
She nodded her head but looked a little confused.
“Tradition?”
“We have some strange customs.” You smiled.
You carried on eating and excused yourself after to go and fix the dagger, and you were at it for a few hours before you finished it.
Setting it aside to cool, you ran a hand through your hair.
“The delivery is here.” Leon said.
You walked over and watched as the Pegasi dragged them all over, and demigod unclasped them, letting them walk free.
“Is this going to be nearly enough?” Arthur asked.
“No, but the others are bringing everything over with them.” You said.
He nodded and you picked up some of the metal, tossing it around in your hand.
“Focus on armour for now.”
The boy behind you nodded his head and you jumped into the cart, taking a bucket you began to load it with metal.
You handed it down and stood up, walking along the carts.
“(L/N)?”
“Oh, my lady.”
You jumped over the edge and jump down, clasping your hands behind your back.
“How May I help?”
“I was just wondering what’s going on, I saw all the horses.”
“Ah, would you like to look my lady?”
“I would.”
You led her to the forge and gestured to the boy.
“This is Timothy, he’s our best blacksmith. He’s currently teaching the younger ones how to use a forge, which is why we have all that metal.”
“What happens after that?”
“Well my lady, it will be taken to the armoury, where they can take whatever they’d like at any time and train with one another.”
“To fight?”
“We have some strange customs, but yes, to fight and protect themselves.”
“And you went through this same training?”
“I did my lady, the teenagers enjoy it, they find it fun.”
You took her to one of the training grounds and she looked around.
“Women training with swords and shields?”
“Women should be allowed to protects themselves to my lady, don’t you agree?”
“I certainly do. This is very modern thinking.” She smiled.
You smiled at her.
“Perhaps her ladyship would like to learn?”
“Oh heavens no, I don’t think Lord Grantham would ever approve.”
“Approve of what?”
You both turned around to face Lord Grantham.
“Me learning how to do what these young women can do.”
You smiled a little, and you felt someone behind you, so you stepped a little to your right and they stumbled forward.
“Leon?”
“I was hoping to get the jump on you but apparently not.”
“Well, maybe if you stopped stomping around the place you could.”
He pointed his sword at you and everyone looked.
“Train with me.”
You looked to Lord Grantham.
“I would be interested to see what exactly you can do.”
“Very good my lord, follow me.”
You led them all to the middle of the cabins, and people brought over chairs and benches for everybody to sit around.
You went into your cabin to grabbed your coin, and you flipped it, catching the sword you pulled of the apron and tossed it aside.
“Right you two, I know what you’re like so remember the rules.” Chiron scolded.
“Yes sir!” You both yelled.
You placed the tip of your sword against the floor and you smirked a little.
“You have nothing.”
“I’ve got you this time.” Leon said.
Thomas watched you carefully, his eyes glued to you, carefully watching what you were doing, ever step you took and every well thought of move you made.
You didn’t even raise your sword to attack, you simply used it to defend yourself, easily dodging the attacks.
You tossed your sword up, and you grabbed Leon by the arm, sweeping your leg under his, you knocked him and threw him over your shoulder.
He landed on his feet and you caught your sword, bringing it down to block his.
“You know you’re not going to win this.” You said.
“I can still try, I’m the only one here that can give you a run for your money.”
You rolled your eyes, and suddenly dropped your sword, you ducked under his as people cried out your name, and you grabbed his wrist, placing your hand on his stomach you flipped him over you again and slapped him into the ground, standing up, you pointed your sword at him.
“I win.”
“You cheated..” he wheezed.
Rolling your eyes, you held your hand out to him and pulled him up, stabbing both of your swords into the ground.
“Go to Arthur.”
“I think you broke a rib..”
“Don’t be so dramatic and get out of here.”
Leon grinned a little and walked away and you turned around.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t longer my Lord.”
“No need, that was impressive. You really don’t need to raise your sword in a fight?”
“Not if you know what you’re doing my Lord.”
He nodded his head.
“Chiron said he’d like to discuss land plans with us both, perhaps you can show Mrs Hughes and Mr Barrow around until our return?” Lady Cora asked.
“Certainly I can, there’s a lot to see.”
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delcakoo · 2 years ago
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彡 catch me! ❅*⋆ y.jw
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requested for my 1k event!
SUMMARY ! seperated from your friend on a ski trip, you had just begun your mission to find him when a cute blue haired boy runs right into you, resulting in the both of you colliding and tumbling down the mountain together. one, slight problem: you have no idea how to ski.
PAIRING ! jungwon x f!reader
GENRE ! skiing au, pure fluff
WC ! 1.3k
WARNINGS ! none just you being a terrible skier <3
a/n: thank you again for the request dear, i loved writing this sm pls, writing for wonnie makes me so happy T-T
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yesterday, you fell for a terrible, cruel lie.
kim sunoo; your best friend, your supposed dumb to your dumber, the boy you thought was a gentle, trustworthy soul, has abandoned you atop a mountain.
“c’mon y/n, i’ve wanted to go skiing for months, and it’s finally snowing!” he had begged, swaying you back and forth by the shoulders. “i’ll stick with you the whole time, i promise.”
well, you wish you could tell your past self to take that promise of his, crumple it up, and slam dunk it into the nearest garbage can.
where was kim sunoo? oh how you’d love to know. you probably resembled a lost penguin without it’s rookery, cluelessly scanning the crowd of skiers for his bright green puffer coat.
“yah, kim sunoo!” you pant, trying to shuffle your way around the snow even with skis on your feet, “as soon as i find you, you’re dead meat!”
the fellow skiers surrounding you offer you strange glances, but you pay them no mind. it shouldn’t be this hard to find a decently short, pink haired boy on a mountain decked in white crystal, yet a task has never seemed harder at this moment.
as you’re about to call out for your friend again, you look down, realising you’re getting a bit too close to the mountain’s edge for comfort. the giant hill is already full of talented skiers racing their way to the bottom, professionally gliding back and forth with the help of their poles. you shudder at the thought of trying to follow their movements, already imagining yourself with a few broken limbs by the time you’d reach the ground.
with that thought, you quickly turn away from the slope, beginning your attempt to gain some distance. though suddenly, the sound of a few male voices getting closer makes you raise your head once more. “race you to the ground!” one boy with blue hair says, sliding hastily ahead of his friend.
“oh, it’s on. i’ll be waiting for you at the bottom, jungwonnie!” the other replies snarkily, pushing down his snow goggles and heading right towards— oh shit.
your eyes widen, realising the boys are obliviously heading straight your way, sliding on either side of you. “uh! excuse me!” you alert desperately. if it weren’t for the damned ski’s on your feet, you would easily be able to move out of the way by now.
your heart beats faster and faster as they approach, letting out a worried yelp. finally, one of the boy’s notices you through his blurred goggles, turning out of the way. “hey, girl! watch out!”
the other boy, or jungwon, however, despite hearing his friend's words, was too late to stop himself due to the fact he was already much too close paired with the hill’s gravity propelling him right your way. both of you let out strangled screams as you collide, nearly falling over as you instinctively grab onto each other’s middle’s in an attempt to stabilise your ski’s.
“hold on!” the boy yells, gently gripping your waist and spinning your body to face forward just as the both of you begin sliding down the hill at a breaknecking speed. the chilly air surrounds you cruelly, adrenaline racing through your veins as you both fly down the hill. jungwon seems to be a much better skier than you, expertly angling his skis into a cross position to slow himself down.
however, his efforts don’t do much as you continue to drag him down with you, flailing around like a fish out of water. “i’m gonna die!” you tell him, practically cutting off the blood in his arm from how tight you’re grasping it. his friend is long ahead, too far gone to try and get back to the both of you.
the hill feels never ending, the bottom undetectable through the constant snow falling in front of you. “no you’re not,” jungwon insists, allowing you to hold his arm despite the uncomfortableness on his end. “you need to cross your ski’s, it’s the only way to slow us down!” his voice is just audible over the boisterous winds.
barely aware of your own surroundings, you somehow manage to process his words, gazing down at his ski’s, then your own. you try to copy him, awkwardly turning your feet inwards. shockingly, it immediately works, the both of you already easing down at a much slower rate.
“that’s it, just like that!” you look up just in time to see your new companion’s face turn into an adorable, proud smile.
wait a minute. through all the chaos, you’d failed to notice how cute this jungwon boy was. his silky blue bangs slightly covered his cat-like eyes, the tips glazed with fallen flakes of snow. you felt your heart ache at his gummy smile, watching in adoration as his red nose wrinkles happily. for a moment, you forgot that you were in the middle of skiing down a mountain, much too busy admiring the handsome boy next to you.
“look, we’re almost there!” he points out, using the arm that wasn’t being strangled by you to wave at the slowly visible hill’s bottom.
“we-we are?” you gasp, “oh my god, we are!” the excitement in your voice was evident, a huge grin growing on your face to match his. as you get closer, jungwon finally wriggles free from your grip on his arm, instead pulling your hand tightly into his, gloved fingers lacing together softly. you feel your cheeks begin to burn at the affection, praying it just looks like the effects of the cold weather.
it isn’t much longer before the both of you finally come to a stop on flat ground, instantly releasing huge exhales of relief. you pout when jungwon untangles his hand from yours to adjust his jacket, looking down at you with a teasing raise of his brow. “soo..” he begins, chuckling lightly.
“so,” you copy.
“i’m guessing you don’t ski much?”
you burst into laughter, shaking your head in disbelief of the situation. “nope, only here because a certain someone forced me to join him.” you barely notice the way jungwon’s expression changes at the use of ‘him’. “though as you might’ve noticed, he ditched me.”
jungwon nods, fidgeting with his gloves. “ah, i can help you find your boyfriend then, if you want?”
you choke in surprise, quickly raising your hands to reassure the boy. “oh no. me and sunoo? no way, he’s just my friend.”
“oh, that’s good.” both of your eyes quickly widen at his words, and you watch amusedly as jungwon quickly tries to cover his slip up. “uh- i meant i- it’s good that you’re um, not here alone!”
your shoulders tremble with laughter, watching the cute boy’s cheeks turn an apple red in embarrassment. “well then, until i find my friend, want to.. give me some lessons?” you entreat (not because you ever want to ski again, but because you’d do anything to spend more time with jungwon), gesturing to your ski’s hopefully.
his big eyes grow even more at your suggestion, blue hair bouncing as he nods excitedly. “i’d love to! i’m not a professional myself, though.” after patting his gloves against his jacket, the blue haired boy offers his hand out to you again with a smile, eagerly pulling you over to the ski lift.
jungwon doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he’s ditched his friend similar to how sunoo ditched you, much too preoccupied admiring your rosy cheeks and cute nose scrunch every time he made you laugh.
“it’s fine, as long as you’re prepared to catch me when i inevitably fall over.”
with a cheesy grin, he pulls you closer. “don’t worry, i’ll always be ready to catch you.”
if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always appreciated and motivating!
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© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.
perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @lov3niki @yujiecho
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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago
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Dry Humping w/ Nagito Komaeda
request; P-Perhaps dry humping with Nagito? If not that is okay 👉👈
warnings; dry humping, gender-neutral reader, dub-con??, i am dying, slight humiliation, nagito is pretty good at dirty talk, no fluff, pwp, degradation??? but it’s like idk self-degrading degradation, not edited but i used spell check.
note; i got a pretty unpleasant eye infection so i had to write this with one eye open and the other eye closed- but hey, even diseases can’t stop my hornee *pained laughing* (on another note, i think i might be sick- i can’t breathe through any of my face holes properly, so uploads this week or month will be slower; i can barely see what i’m typing)
also i’m literally so sorry for cutting this off so short but please, i am drowning in my own fluids im so soryr sbhasjdfksdbfsjd please send help i think i am going to pass out /hj
wc; 1k+
“Are you-“ Nagito breathed out from in between your kisses, face flushed as he stared at you through half-lidded eyelashes. “—sure you want to-“ Swallowing down his words, your hands slid down to the waistband of his pants, fingers reaching in between you eagerly.
“S/o-!” He gasped into your mouth, hands that had been awkwardly hovering over your back, darted to your ass, pushing you closer to him selfishly as he arched his back into you ever so slightly. 
His calls for your name only seemed to egg you on, as well as his touch; prompting you to practically hop into his lap, perching your core over his bulge. Nagito whined against your lips, fingernails digging in your thighs in desperation.
Whatever pleas, and worries of you not wanting trash like him from earlier, seemed to dissipate into thin air as he bucked his hips into yours. He didn’t seem to have to worry about you not wanting him, as your hips reciprocated his move by squeezing your thighs around his waist.
Nagito shuddered at the pressure, gasping out into your mouth; he muttered your name through pants. As you sucked and nibbled on his bottom lip, your hands fanned out on the back of his neck, cradling him further into you as he kissed you back with fervour. 
You pulled away from his lips to take a breath, eyes peeking open to see his flushed face, and his own green stare he bore into you through his eyelashes. Nagito seemed to dislike the fact you stopped kissing him, and though he didn’t say anything about it, the domineering gaze he had on you was enough to start grinding against his lap like before. Dragging your crotch over his, mind you, extremely prominent bulge, you could feel it grow against you; causing you to jerk away and gasp as it had been too much pressure. 
The gasp of air had been cut off as Nagito gently but eagerly pushed you to your back, taking things into his own hands as you had been going painfully slow for him. He adjusted your thighs around his waist as he leaned his back and hips into you, delicate and bony hands gripping the sides of your rib cage as if it was his lifeline. 
“I’m so sorry; trash like me- Shouldn’t even be touching you, let alone humping you like a whore-ish animal, but-” He whispered, flushed, grinning face right above yours as he bucked his hips into yours, causing you to throw your head back in graceful ecstasy, lips parting as you let out a small moan. 
Nagito let out a slightly delusional laugh at the face you made, eyes widening as he wanted to see you more clearly. “Haha, to be fair-” Nagito dipped his fluffy head down and nibbled the sensitive skin of your collar bone, hands sliding up to your shoulder blades as he arched his hips into your crotch a little harder. He spoke nothing but the truth against the crook of your neck, “you seem to be enjoying this a lot.” Mewling, you nodded frantically, urging a small obsessed chuckle from his side.
You bucked your hips up into him, trying to relieve some tension in your nether regions as it had begun to be too much. Nagito had practically scrambled to give you what you wanted, it was at that moment had you remembered that this was still Nagito, despite the domineering hold he had on you; this was still your Nagito. 
He pulled his hands away from your back, bringing his forearms up to rest beside your head, lining up his flushed face right above yours. Through pants, his words fanned against your face—and notes of mint hit your nostrils. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to see- Ghhah! T-trash like me right above your f-face, huh?” He groaned out, an apologetic smile on his face as he jerked his hips into yours, causing you to moan out a little louder, to his lot. 
You shook your head, fingers that had been gripping the sheets beside you, just seconds ago, shot up to his head full of fluffy white hair, pulling it slightly as you pushed him into your own face. His own green eyes widened as if he wasn’t expecting you to do that, breath hitching as he caught the lustful look in your eyes— lustful for him as it seems.
He almost felt pressured to make you feel good, cutting his call of your name off with his own lips on yours— he found himself melting into you, becoming completely immersed in you, your touch, your scent, your lips, your hips- It was as if he was binding himself into you; or at least that’s what he thought was happening. 
Nagito had not only been melting into you in mind but also in body, as his knees buckled, causing him to fall and push up riiiiight against your sweet spot. Sure, you can call it a happy accident- but who’s to say Nagito didn’t do that on purpose? 
“I’m sorry, so sorry-” He didn’t seem to be as sorry as he said he was, as he began grinding into you quicker, harder; a pace you could barely keep up with though you sat there and still took it with a glass of water. 
“N-Nagito—!” You sobbed out suddenly, feeling your own fluids start to soak up your underwear and pants, you felt humiliation- though it had been nothing akin to how Nagito had been feeling. He was already thinking of what to say to you after he gets you to finish, cultivating several ways to beg for your forgiveness straight after. 
With his voice slightly shaky from his grinding movements, he spoke anyway, “S-saying a name that belongs to trash like me, surely you know that’s below you, right?” His tone had almost been mocking, teasing; although it hadn’t truly been his intention to sound so. It was strange how he could degrade himself, and make it sound like he was degrading you all at the same time. Either way, it didn’t really matter as it only seemed to make your body grow warmer in arousal.
“Haha- oh god-” His bubbly laugh lowered an octave as you felt him grind especially hard and slow against your hips, you could feel him getting more desperate; the short social cue he had spoken earlier seemed to further your suspicion; he was close. 
You arched your back into him and brought his hips closer to yours by wrapping your legs wrapped around his waist snugly. You bucked your hips up into his yet again, back lifting off the mattress as you stifled a loud moan from the increasing pressure. 
Nagito didn’t seem to see the point of stifling his moans, as he seemed to moan as loud as he possibly could— fortunately and unfortunately, the pretty, breathy moans had been muffled by the cloth of the top garment you had been wearing, that he had been digging his nose into. It was unfortunate, the moans were too beautiful to be muffled, but you wouldn’t want any of your neighbours to complain, right?
“S/o, h-how close are you? S-seems like trash like me got ahead of myself, huh? I.. Hh- D-don’t think I can last any longer, but maybe I can get you off with my thigh-” You shook your head; though you weren’t opposed to the idea, you certainly were close.
“Nagi- Nagito-” the thing he had last said seemed to slip your lusted mind as you started repeating his name over and over again, the vocal repetitions getting faster as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.
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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years ago
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The Dock
A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader
Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other
Word count: 4.5k+
Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger
Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]
---
You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.
Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”
“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”
“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”
The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.
“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”
“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.
“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.
“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.
“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.
“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.
“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.
“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.
“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”
“Shut up, Sam!”
A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.  
---
“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.
“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”
“Well then, let’s hear it.”
“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”
“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”
“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”
“Sure he would,” you scoffed.
“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”
“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.
“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.
“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”
“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”
“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.  
~
“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.
“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.
You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”
“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.
“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”
You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.  
As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.
“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”
You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.
“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”
“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”
Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”
A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian  was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.
“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”
You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.
“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”
That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.
“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.
“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”
You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.
You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.  
Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.
“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.
“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.
“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”
Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”
You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.
“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.
“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.
“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”
“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.
“Tony-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”
“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.
“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.
Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.
~
“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”
---
“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.
You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.
“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”
“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.
Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.
“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.
“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.
“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”
“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.
“I’m just saying.”
“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”
“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.
“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.
“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.
“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”
“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”
“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”
“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”
Soon. He was going to do it soon.
---
“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.
“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.
“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.
“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.
“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push. 
“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.
“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”
You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”
“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.
“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).
“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.
“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”
The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.
“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.
“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”
“Well half the fun is falling off.”
“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”
“What would you suggest we rather do then?”
“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”
“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.
“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.
“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.
“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.
“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.
“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”
“Good.”
A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.
His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.
“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.
This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.
---
You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?
“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Oh, okay.”
“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”
“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.
He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.
“Mind if I join?”
“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.  
Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.
Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.
“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”
You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.
“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.
“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.
“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”
You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.
“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”
“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.
“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.
Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.
“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.
“For what?”
“Your face.”
His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”
“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”
“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”
You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.
He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.
“Can I kiss you?”
You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”
You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.
“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.
A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.
“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”
You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.
You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.
“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.
“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.
“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.
“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.
“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”
“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.
“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”
“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”
“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came.  “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.
---
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deanstead · 4 years ago
Text
Hidden Feelings
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Request by @winqhster​: Hii!! I would like to request a Jay imagine where the reader works in the Intelligence Unit and is younger than him. She develops a crush on Jay, but overtime she tries to distance herself from him. She takes a week off from work and doesn't tell anyone. Jay begins to worry, so he goes to her apartment. At her apartment, they end up arguing and she says that he sees her as a child. Can it end with a happy ending with them getting together!!
Warnings: swearing, a little angst, fluff
A/N: This took a little more time than I expected but I enjoyed writing this so I hope you like what I did with it! If you have any thoughts, feedback or even just want to say hi, please (always) feel free to reply or send me an ask, always love hearing from all of you. Also, thank you so much for all the love so far, hope you’ve been enjoying my writing! Jay requests remain open, feel free to send in an ask!
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---
You looked up from your desk, your gaze falling onto your partner sitting across from you. Jay had a small frown on his face, like he usually did when he was deep in thought, as he twirled a pen in his right hand.
As if he felt you looking at him, his eyes flicked upwards and he cocked his eyebrows upwards. “Everything ok?”
Slightly embarrassed, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yeah… just thinking…”
Jay glanced at his watch. “It’s late, we should call it a day.” He leaned over to turn off his computer before looking back up at you. “Molly’s?”
You hesitated. Normally, you would have jumped at the idea - chilling with a beer after a long day was something you couldn’t resist but recently you could feel a magnetic pull towards Jay that you couldn’t explain, which really scared you.
“I think I’ll head home tonight.” You told him.
Jay turned back towards you. “Everything okay?”
You nodded back and smiled. “Just tired.”
A small concerned frown crossed Jay’s face making you look up at him again but it was gone just as quickly, making you think you might have imagined it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You called, pulling your jacket around you as you headed out of the district.
---
It was getting harder and harder to do this. It had started off as a warm feeling, you felt like you had earned a big brother in your partner who was always looking out for you, making sure you were okay, both at work and off. Then somehow along the way it had transitioned into a stupid crush, probably from a physical attraction – but who wouldn’t be attracted to Jay Halstead?
And now, you were head over fucking heels in love with him and you had no idea how it had come to this.
It scared you, this sudden intense feeling you had towards him, so much you didn’t know how to be around him anymore. You felt Jay’s eyes on you and you looked up.
“Hey, we’re hitting Molly’s after work. You in?”
You could feel Jay studying you as you struggled to keep your expression in check. “You guys go ahead.” You responded, pushing your chair backwards and heading for the pantry.
Jay frowned but didn’t follow you.
It had been about two weeks since you had started to put some distance between yourself and Jay. You could tell he was confused, at the very least, and it was only a matter of time before he decided to corner you so you really needed some time and space to deal with this, once and for all.
By the time the end of the day came, you were sure this was what you had to do. Glad that everyone else had left, you got up and knocked on Voight’s office door. “Sarge, can I have a word?”
Voight looked up from where he was sitting at his desk, studying your expression before nodding and motioning for you to close the door.
“What’s up?”
You took a deep breath. “I have some unused furlough days. I need a week, if that’s okay?”
Voight didn’t say anything but continued to look at you. “Everything okay?” His eyes flicked up momentarily to look at Jay’s empty desk.
You nodded. “Yeah, I just have some... personal matters I have to take care of.” You paused, trying in vain to read his expression. “If it’s okay with you… I…”
Voight nodded, without waiting for you to finish. “Take the time, do what you have to do.”
You nodded. “Thanks, Sarge.”
----
Jay had turned it over and over a million times in his head over the past two weeks. He was sure you were hiding something from him, he just wasn’t sure what.
You had been different lately – the way you talked or walked, hell you barely even made eye contact with him this last week.
Jay jogged up the stairs to Intelligence, noting with mild concern that you hadn’t come in yet. He glanced at his watch. He was running late so he had expected you to already be seated at your desk, sipping your coffee. Instead, your table was neat, your chair tucked in. You weren’t here yet and that in itself was strange.
He sat at his desk, looking up every time he heard footsteps until Voight stepped out of his office.
“We’re operating a member down, Y/L/N is on furlough, I need everyone’s head on straight.” Voight barked. “Let’s go.”
Jay frowned and jogged towards Voight. “Sarge. Furlough?”
Voight didn’t respond immediately. “You’re riding with me today.”
Jay nodded, getting into the car. “Did she say why?”
Voight looked at Jay, his eyes seeming to pierce right through him. “Personal stuff.”
---
You were on day three of your furlough when your doorbell rang.
You frowned, confused as to who would be here. You weren’t expecting anyone, or anything.
You pulled the door open and froze. “Jay?”
Jay had that look on his face. The one that told you he had probably been brewing all the way here.
“What’s going on?” You asked as he stormed in.
“What’s going on?” He repeated as you scrunched up your eyebrows. “What’s going on is that you disappeared for three days without bothering to tell me anything. That’s what’s going on.” He huffed.
“Hold on, Jay.” You tried to talk but he didn’t let you.
“What’s going on is that I can’t believe you are so irresponsible that you won’t even tell your partner when you’re going to be back.” Jay continued with his tirade but your dismay at him being angry at you switched to a sudden flare in your gut.
“Irresponsible?” You asked, looking directly at him. “I told Voight I needed a week.”
Jay spun back around to look at you. “And you didn’t think you should tell me? You had your damn phone off for three days.”
“And it didn’t occur to you that I needed time? I needed space?” You shot back, getting more furious by the second.
“Time? Space? It takes you five seconds to send me a damn text Y/N! How am I supposed to look out for you if you don’t tell me anything?”
You shook your head. “That’s the problem, Jay. You always treat me like a damn child! I can take care of myself.”
Jay paused for a second, a hurt look briefly crossing his face, so quickly that you almost missed it. “What are you saying? You don’t want me to look out for you?”
You shook your head. “I’m saying, don’t treat me like a damn child. I’m not. I’m not a little girl, and I sure as hell ain’t your little sister.” You snapped.
“I never said you were!”
“Then stop being so nice to me!” You screamed.
Jay lowered his voice now. “So, you want me to ignore you? Be mean to you? Is that it? I don’t get it!”
“That’s not what I’m saying!”
“Then what, Y/N? What is it? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks and then you just disappear? Are you going to leave the unit next?” Jay asked and this time, you heard it, a tone of desperation in his voice.
“I’m not leaving, Jay.” You stressed, bringing your voice down a few notches. “Like I said, I just need some time.”
“Some time for what?” Jay pressed.
“It’s nothing.” You mumbled. “Just drop it.”
“Damn it, Y/N. You ask me not to treat you like a child, but you’re sure as hell behaving like one.” Jay’s voice rose again.
You glared at him. “To get over you, okay? Happy? I just needed some time and space to squash down all my damn feelings for you so I can go back to being your partner or your younger sister or whatever the hell you need me to be so drop it!” You yelled.
Jay’s eyes widened and your heart sank. There, you did it. You let your emotions get the better of you and you let it slip like you always do when you’re mad and now everything was going to be awkward and maybe you would have to transfer out of the unit or change your partner…
“Y/N.” His voice was soft when he spoke this time.
You turned away from Jay. You didn’t want to see that look on his face. The look he had on to reject you or try to let you down easy.
Jay grabbed your wrist and turned you back towards him. “Who the hell said it was okay for you to get over me?”
Without waiting for an answer, Jay pushed his lips onto yours, one of his hands resting on your lower back, pulling you towards him, while his other hand found the back of your neck, gently moving upwards to thread through your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pulled you deeper into the kiss.
You had imagined this so many times, you had wanted this for so long, yet now that it was happening, it was so much more than you had ever dreamed of. The room felt like it was spinning around the both of you as Jay covered your lips with his and you could even taste the remnants of whisky on his lips.
Gently, he pulled away, looking down into your eyes. “I so did not go on furlough for this.” You muttered.
Jay chuckled. “I was just worried about you.”
“Next time just tell me.” You answered, looping your arms around his waist.
Jay rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”
You let out a smile as Jay rested his forehead against yours. “Don’t you ever disappear like that, ever again.” He whispered. 
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chosonore · 3 years ago
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drabble one | scintilla
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scintilla [noun. a very small amount of something]
pairing: scaramouche/reader
summary: the first time you meet scaramouche, you sort of assumed that he was an unpleasant nobleman straight out of a novel. rude, abrasive and haughty. and yet, your conscious won't rest until you made sure he was okay.
wordcount: 2.4k
content/warnings: please make sure you've read ephemeral!, 2.1 spoilers so please do not read ahead if you haven’t played the archon quest [UNEDITED]
a/n: i'm really deep in scaramouche brainrot haha i miss him so much. and writing that one shot made me lose like 10k hp at least bc even if you might not believe it, it did hurt me while writing fakfheauf so i needed some fluff in my life. i look forward to writing all the other little drabble ideas that i have for the series!
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as autumn was nearing its end and with winter right at the doorstep, the entire village was busy preparing in advantage. the markets were bustling despite the icy wind that was already sweeping through inazuma and so you got up early - god forbid everything was sold out again once you’ve gotten there. the small estate that you’d inherited from your parents was just outside the village, surrounded by gardens and fields that you were tending to, so it took you longer to get to the market. as you recounted what items you were going to buy today, making note of what you still had in stock, you belatedly noticed the crowd that had already gathered. you frowned. it was unusual, no one came to the market this early in the morning.
cautiously, you neared the crowd to see what the commotion was about. slowly but surely, you fought your way to the front, your eyes falling onto a person standing at the center. he looked out of place, looking so delicate and yet strong at the same time as he glared at the onlookers. you supposed that the onlookers, just as you, were drawn in by the stranger’s beauty. he looked ethereal. long, indigo hair flowing in the wind, contrasted by the sharp eyes that were narrowing in distaste. and his clothing, he must not have been from the surrounding areas. perhaps he was just a traveler passing by but judging by the looks, he seemed too… lost. you could see it in his eyes; behind a mask of hostility, there was a layer of uncertainty and possibly hurt.
maybe he was a noble who got ambushed on his trip and lost his way? or he escaped the grasp of overbearing responsibilities and expectation as a noble! you had read novels like those, it didn’t seem entirely impossible. at least in your imagination of what aristocratic families would act like. the stranger didn’t carry a family crest though, which struck you as odd. you were curious about his story though you didn’t want to bother him - the other villagers were overwhelming enough as is, shouting and trying to get his attention and for him to possibly buy their goods. they probably assumed he possessed a large amount of wealth that he would spend if so inclined.
amidst the cacophony of voices, one belonging to your friend reached you, calling you over to them. hastily, you made your way over, straining to hear what they were telling you. “y/n, good that you’re here! this strange man turned up just a while ago but he seems to be confused as to where to go… he must have been traveling for a very long time and seems to be exhausted, maybe hurt even?” your friend explained, pulling you closer so they wouldn’t have to yell so loudly. “i thought you could possibly take him in and help? at least until he gets better and can continue his travels. we can’t let him die out there with winter approaching.”
“but my goods-”
“okay, okay, i owe you one. give me a run down of what items you need and i’ll get them for you and even hand-deliver them! how does that sound? deal?”
you sighed. of course, you couldn’t decline the offer. being one of the very few healers in the area and having vast amounts of herbs and flowers at your disposal, everyone counted on you when someone got injured or sick. it wasn’t like you to refuse treatment in the first place - it was in your nature to help people, whether they were deserving of it or not. handing your friend the list and basket, you sternly instructed them on what to buy and how to select the products you needed before heading towards the stranger. it was hard giving such a task up to someone else. you trusted your friend but no one had the same expertise as you and you needed products of the highest quality.
violet eyes flitted towards you in suspicion as you stood close to him. you weren’t sure of how to address him, not wanting to offend him. what if he would send all his wrath towards you? life was already hard as it is. as you were pondering on how to talk to him, the apparent nobleman grew impatient. “what do you want? are you here to bribe me into buying your atrocious products as well?” he lashed out at you, angrily regarding you and the onlookers. offended gasps and murmuring resounded from the crowd.
you hadn’t expected such harshness to come from him, much less being paired with an otherwise soft and gentle voice. taken aback by his sudden outburst of anger, you stayed silent for a few moments. this was nothing new, you’d dealt with ungrateful and mean customers before. “no, in fact, i’m here to offer you my help. my friend noted that you must have been travelling for a while and should be checked up on. i’m the only healer around here, hence why i’m the only one who could do this properly,” you explained calmly but firmly, glaring back at him. neither of you were backing down from the silent challenge, too stubborn to let the other gain the upperhand. “so unless you want to stay out here and rot, i suggest you come with me. this is the only opportunity you’ll get.”
the staring match continued until you sighed, annoyed by the entire ordeal. why was he so adamant on being insufferable? he was hostile towards each and every person, not even having the decency to thank you for your offer. ugh, you couldn’t deal with this. you guessed the novel had been right: all nobles looked beautiful, as if they didn’t belong to this world, but had a rather nasty attitude. at least you didn’t have to deal with haggling with the merchants now as your friend would be taking care of it. you supposed you could go home and tend to your flowers now. the chrysanthemums were blooming now, you could harvest them soon. still, his abrasiveness left a bitter taste in your mouth. you hated when people were hostile for no reason.
it wasn’t until you were nearing the borders of the city that you suddenly turned around and caught the stranger trailing several meters behind you. “are you following me?” you inquired indignantly.
“have been this entire time, you’re only noticing now?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. how could you be this stupid and not notice? had it been any other time of the day, a criminal surely could have hurt you or even abducted you. you were naive, much too fragile and weak. and willing to help a vagrant such as him? you didn’t even bother asking about his background! you should be more suspicious as he could easily hurt you. he was almost offended at what an easy victim you were.
you shot him a deadly glare, continuing the trail towards your house. “oh i’m so sorry for not noticing you anytime sooner, oh mighty stranger from afar!”
the stranger didn’t reply, making you grin in satisfaction. so for now you had the upper hand, until he retaliated with yet another insult. arriving at your precious estate, you briefly glanced over the rows and rows of plants. everything was okay, nothing out of the ordinary. just another brief hike until you reached the small house in the middle of the patch of land. fumbling with your keys, you finally looked around to make sure the traveler was still following you. and there he was, standing right behind you, so close that you flinched in surprise. he had been quiet all this time, moving so stealthily that you didn’t notice anything.
“you should pay more attention to your surroundings, you’ll get yourself killed one day,” he harrumphed, watching with eagle eyes as you opened the door and invited him in.
“why do you keep mentioning me having to be more careful? ugh, you know what, forget it. you’re just here so i can treat you.” swiftly, you led him to the guest room that you primarily used to host patients and treat them. quietly, you instructed him to take a seat on the bed before grabbing some ointments and bandages. as you sat on the small stool in front of him and reached out to check for injuries and blisters on his feet, you were suddenly pushed back forcefully.
bewildered, you looked up. “don’t touch me,” he hissed, pulling away from you.
“how else am i going to treat you?”
“just use your eyes or are those not functioning well either?”
“i’m just trying to help you!” increasingly, you grew more frustrated with him. why did he come here in the first place, if he didn’t want any help? he acted irrationally and hostile as well. no signs of gratitude! and yet, you could see the conflict in his eyes. the hesitation as he waited, trying to gauge whether you were going to harm him. waiting to see if you were going to heal him like you promised or were going to bribe him in exchange for helping him. a colourful kaleidoscope of emotions whirled in his eyes, making you wonder what made him so suspicious and cautious that he couldn’t even accept a simple act of kindness.
ever so slightly, you softened. surely, he must have been through a lot before arriving in this village. still, you couldn’t let him get away with being so rude. “just a simple check up then, alright? that’s the least i will do. if anything else hurts, you tell me and i’ll just give you an ointment or medicine for it,” you made a compromise, hoping that he would agree. you’d feel horrible if you couldn’t help him at all, what kind of healer were you if you couldn’t assist with any ailments? albeit still cautious, he let you proceed as you patched him up. you made sure to be careful as to not startle him or gain mistrust but strangely enough, he stayed still the entire time. unmoving, his watchful gaze followed your every move, lost in his thoughts as he tried to make sense of your kindness. it was confusing to him, a person not expecting anything in return. much less someone who was so persistent in taking care of him, unlike the previous person he'd stayed with… his creator, the very person that tossed him aside.
and even when you'd made him stay for the night to be able to keep an eye on him until you were sure that he wasn't hurt otherwise… he felt a strange warmth emanating from his chest, one that was constricting his throat and made it difficult for him to react. but it lulled him into a sense of security and comfort, it was so unusual that he briefly felt the urge to squash it for making him feel so funny. squashing it would be a solution, yes. however, the curiosity about the nature of that feeling was overweighing the negatives and so he let it go. it felt rather pleasant after all. he didn't have the words to explain it and maybe, he would find out in the future. being the talkative person that you were, he was sure he could pressure you into telling him. yes, that sounded like a good solution.
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your last stop were the gardens - maybe he decided to jeopardize your lifelihood and trampled over all the flowers and herbs. with a harsh personality as his, you didn't deem it an impossibility. at least nothing was set on fire so it could still be salvaged. but as you reached the flower fields, you were greeted by a sight that perplexed you.
the handsome and yet weird stranger was gone when you checked up on him the next morning. part of you knew that he wasn't going to stay by how adamant he was about leaving as soon as you finished the examination. hell, he might have been right. you should have been more suspicuous, he might have robbed you of all your belongings and food and wandered off to the next city. what an ungrateful, unpleasant and rude stranger, you thought to yourself as you angrily looked through the house - nothing had been stolen, much to your surprise. part of you was disappointed about him leaving. you never got to inquire him about where he came from, his background, why he was traversing through the country with no equipment.
in the midst of your blood red chrysanthemums stood the stranger, wandering through the flowers and curiously sniffing them. his hair was getting tangled in the flowers every now and then but he didn't seem to mind. unbothered, he continued his journey, delicate fingers brushing over the blooming flowers. so he never left after all but took interest in your flowers. surprised, you came closer, inspecting the look on his face. childlike wonder, a hint of glee in his eyes as he took in the luscious and vibrant colour of the flowers. there was something along the lines of joy and happiness in his eyes, emotions that had been sheltered and hidden by his distrustful nature. it fueled your curiosity even more, wanting to get to know him.
only then did it occur to you that you never asked for his name and never told him yours. quickly, you came to his side, almost out of breath as you finally reached him. he turned around, looking at you confused and cocked his head to the side.
breathlessly, you came closer. you had to know his name, had to know who this stranger was that intrigued you so much. "you never told me your name."
he blinked a couple of times, surprised that you asked for his name. although he didn't like to reveal his name to strangers, keeping it as a secret that was dear to him and what… who he was. humans and gods alike were cruel, they didn't care about each other. and yet, you had shown him nothing but kindness, displaying a strange resilience that wanted to prove him otherwise.
as the first breezes of cold winter air passed you, announcing the start of a new season, the wind carried his name to you.
"kunikuzushi."
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maxwell-grant · 3 years ago
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Jumping off from my previous question/suggestion, might I please ask if there are any superheroes you think would make fine Pulp Villains and any Supervillains you think would make convincing Pulp Heroes?
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I'm gonna go ahead and remark that I'd personally suggest to anyone who's trying to create pulp characters inspired by superheroes (which would be probably about 90% of you who may want to do that sort of thing) to flip the script around a little. As in, don't try to create pulp analogues to the Justice League/Avengers upfront, but play around with some of the lesser-known icons and filter those through your idea of what “pulp” means (which is gonna be quite different than my own or anyone else’s). 
I’m not gonna really mention characters I’ve already talked about before like Vandal Savage or Namor, instead I’ll pick new ones and see what can be highlighted about them.
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Regarding “Superheroes who could make fine/convincing Pulp Villains”, even though he’s a character I've read basically nothing on, Martian Manhunter definitely leaped out to me as an obvious option. He’s a Sci-Fi Superman who takes the first half of the name to an extreme that borders on comical, except he’s not a square-jawed white man, he’s a 1.000 year old green alien from Mars with shapeshifting powers who can look as monstrous as the artist desires. He’s the product of an advanced civilization and genetic modification, and on top of the Flying Brick powerset and shapeshifting, he also has incredibly powerful and extensive telepathic abilities, he can become invisible, phaze through matter, use telekinesis and other weird abilities. A lot of pulp stories closer to sci-fi were based around the idea of taking one of these abilities and extrapolating horrific consequences for them, and J’onn has those by the dozens. He also has an extremely mundane weakness that would allow him to be beaten by Macready with a blowtorch if that’s where the story ended.
He was also a law enforcement officer from Mars who became a police detective and it’s even right there in his name, and again, I have never read anything he’s in (I should probably pick the Orlando mini), I know he’s for all intents and purposes a generally nice man who tends to job a lot in crossovers and cartoons, but the idea of taking all those great vast and horrifying alien powers, combining all of them into a single character who also happens to be the last survivor of a doomed planet (and one who actually lived through it’s collapse), and then making that character a former cop trying to resume his work on Earth? 
That is a Pulp Supervillain begging to happen, and a particularly horrifying one at that. And hey, speaking of The Thing-
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Now, Plastic Man’s potential for horror has already been explored quite a bit in some of the darker DC continuities like Injustice and DCeased, and it’s quite funny seeing a lot of these turn Plastic Man into The Thing because there were quite a handful of Wold Newton pages that ran with the idea that Macready from the original story was Doc Savage, and that the secret chemicals that Eel O’Brian was hit by that gave him his powers were actually samples of The Thing contained in one of Savage’s labs. Regardless, the idea of a former street crook suddenly gaining bizarre shapeshifting abilities that allow him to reign terror on his gangster associates could make for a great premise as a pulp crime story that veers into horror as the gangsters gradually figure out what is Eel O’Brian’s deal, and then the story can take a more tragic turn.
The thing about Jack Cole’s Plastic Man that modern takes on the character neglect is that, while Plas was a lively roguish anti-hero (arguably the first of it’s kind in comics), he’s still for intents and purposes “the straight man” (HA, right, Plastic Man being “straight”). He’s the relatively sane hero who plays off Woozy’s wackier misadventures and the imaginative madness that Jack Cole paints his adventures with, and it makes for an interesting contrast considering Plastic Man is already a weird character, having to ramp up the strangeness of the world around him so that he still remains the sane man. There are ways to twist this into something quite horrifying, even tragic for Plastic Man as he either struggles to maintain coherency, or embraces the shifting chaos the world’s spiraling into for better or worse (and definitely for the worse towards those on the receiving end of his vengeance, or even his humor).
Now, onto the flipside, regarding Supervillains that could become Pulp Heroes -
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Normally I’d not mention the Batman villains here, because I already have a lot to talk about in regards to them as is, they comprise some of my favorite comic characters, but I pretty much have to make an exception for Two-Face in this topic, as not only a pretty obvious option but one with even case studies to prove it, as not only do we have The Black Bat, a 1930s costumed pulp hero with an identical origin story and several other conceptual overlaps with Batman, as well as The Whisperer, a young hotshot police commissioner who dresses up as a disfigured vigilante to kill criminals without consequence (and who’s somehow less of a maniacal asshole in his secret identity than in his regular one), but it turns out that there actually was a 1910s pulp hero called The Two-Faced Man:
Crewe was created by “Varick Vanardy,” the pseudonym of Frederic van Rensselaer Dey (Nick Carter, Doctor Quartz), and appeared in three short stories and two novels and short story collections from 1914 to 1919, beginning with “That Man Crew” (The Cavalier, Jan. 24, 1914). 
Crewe is “The Two-Faced Man.” 
He is in his forties and has gray hair and a “sharply cut and handsome profile—until one caught a view of the other side of his face and saw the almost hideous blemish that nearly covered it, and which graduated in corrugated irregularity from a delicate pink to repulsive purple.” 
Crewe is two-faced in another way. Crewe is a saloon owner in below Washington Square. But he has another identity: Birge Moreau, portraitist and socialite hanger-on. Crewe uses both his identities to solve crimes as an amateur detective.
The only person to know about both of Crewe’s identities is a police inspector who is also Crewe’s friend and who Crewe helps in pressing cases - The Encyclopedia of Pulp Heores by Jess Nevins
And speaking of obvious picks for Supervillains turned Pulp Heroes,
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Assuming I even need to make a case for Kraven the Hunter other than just presenting this cropped panel from Squirrel Girl and in particular the art painted on the Kra-Van, or even just telling you to read Squirrel Girl and it’s take on “The Unhuntable Sergei” (I had no idea most of the people saying “Kraven’s arc in Squirrel Girl is as good if not better than Kraven’s Last Hunt” weren’t actually joking in the slightest and I speak as someone who has Kraven among their absolute favorite Marvel characters, it had no right being that good), I’m going to quote the brilliant Rogue’s Review from The Mindless Ones that lays down in painstaking detail why Kraven could make a killer protagonist in that horrifically over-the-top pulp fashion
One thing that strikes me writing this, is how well Kraven could hold his own comic. There’s always room for a book spotlighting a ruthless, hardcore, gentleman bastard, and Kraven’s raison d’etre makes him supremely versatile, so well suited to any genre, any environment. It’s odd that more writers haven’t jumped on the fact that in a universe where off-world travel is possible – indeed, common – a hunter like Kraven would have a field day. 
I can just imagine the opening scene – herds of weird cthuloid bat creatures grazing in the gloomy green nitrogen fields, bathed in lethal, bone splintering fog, when, suddenly, LIGHT! from above and an unholy bellowing: “CTHGRGN fthgrgnARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGN!”
They look up in fear and then they start to run – ploughing into and over each other, tentacles flailing, as from the space-ship’s docking bay Kraven silently plummets, barely dressed for the cold, a glowing knife smothered in elder signs jammed between his teeth. 
You should have seen him one night previous, sipping alien tokay around the Captain’s table with the other guests, discussing the morning’s hunt; and the way he insulted the Skrull dignitary by forgetting himself and accidentally sporting his favourite piece of formal wear: his boiling unstable dinner-jacket of many colours, fashioned from the hide of one of the Ambassador’s super kinsmen.
Whoops!
Midway through Kraven explaining how the best way to irreparably damage a symbiote is to wait until its bonded with you and then seriously maim yourself, the Skrull decided it might be a good idea to simmer down, while his beautiful Inhuman lover hung on every word.
The deeper I get into this the more convinced I am that the MU’s hunter-killer extraordinaire wouldn’t limit himself to bloody planet Earth. And neither would he limit himself to this dimension, or universe or timeline. The guy’d be just as at home leaping, sword raised, onto the back of a T-Rex in the Savage Land, as he would be ploughing through werewolves in the graveyards of Arkham or tracking a howling Demon across Mephistopheles’ realm. 
He’d work perfectly in all these environments because he has a damn good reason to be casting a bloody swathe through them: wherever there’s big game, you’ll find Kraven.
The next choice I guess is an oddball, but not that much of an oddball if you know already what is my main frame of reference towards Marvel
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I don’t think people appreciate enough that the main reason Shuma-Gorath has anything resembling a fanbase has nothing whatsoever to do with the comics he was in, but entirely because, when Capcom designers had a list of Marvel characters to pick from to work on Marvel Super Heroes, they took a look at the diet Cthulhu and went “gimme THAT one”, and then went all-in in giving the alien squid monster a funky personality along with a great stage and music and animations and all that great fighting game character stuff, and now he’s maybe the most popular Dr Strange villain along with Dormammu and Mordo, despite having ZERO film appearences or major showings in comic sagas.
Capcom's designers redefined Shuma-Gorath from a nebulous cosmic evil into a comically smug cartoon bastard who can rant about devouring all dimensions and souls horrifically while also cracking poses and zingers like “How do you expect to win a fight with only two arms?” and having dinners with Dhalsim or hosting Japanese game shows in his endings, and it kills me that none of this ever made it’s way into any depictions of the character outside of MvC. 
So that’s kinda what I’d go with. I’d take Capcom’s Shuma-Gorath, depower him a bit obviously from his canonical power, and run with the premise of his MvC3 ending where he decides that, well, if he's the unlikely savior of this pathetic planet and these wretched human dogs like him so much, and he’s clearly having a much better time here among them than he ever had drifting among the stars cealessly consuming life, then maybe he can take a break from all that eldritch business and keep up hosting the Super Monster Awesome Hour and maybe fight whatever PITIFUL villains think can take HIS planet. I mean, he’ll probably still end up destroying the planet by the end, but why not give this hero business a try?
Just until he gets his full powers back of course. 
I mean you can’t deny he DOES look pretty good in that bowtie, surely The Great Shuma-Gorath wouldn’t be so unmerciful as to deny these vile wastes of flesh something good to look at in their brief and miserable lives.
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wormstacheangel · 4 years ago
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reminder I am watching The Nanny and I can't help but write scenes as destiel. So here is my second one. I think this one is a bit more sitcom, especially towards the end :) This is for episode 1x11.
wc: 1.7k
The kids have been having a hard time with the one night they don’t have Dean to tuck them in. Whatever Cas did, the kids would correct him and tell him Dean did it this way or did it that way. He simply couldn’t get it right. Even Claire was missing Dean, showing her fear of losing the one person who finally got her to be less angry at the world.
After finally getting the kids to bed, Cas walks into the kitchen to find Balthazar lounging around in his robe with a drink in one hand and scrolling through movie reviews with the other. Cas stands over his shoulder, trying to read it, but his eyes gaze over, not caring enough but still, he sighs.
“Would you like a drink, sir?” Balthazar sounded exasperated with him already, even if he has only been in the room for less than a minute.
“Please.” Cas fetches a cup and holds it out for Balthazar to pour some whiskey into it. He has been feeling restless all night but can’t pinpoint the reason why. “You know, Mr. Winchester would have loved talking about horrible movies with you.”
“Yes. I know.”
“I wonder how he is.”
“I’m sure he is enjoying his date, sir.” Balthazar takes a sip of his drink as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him.
Cas walks over to stand by the kitchen island. He already undid his tie, undid his top four buttons, and he can’t imagine how his hair looked after pacing the living room for a good 20 minutes.
He swirled his drink before downing the whole thing in one gulp.
“Or he can be having a miserable time, sir. The man was a mortician, after all. I don’t think that would fit Mr. Winchester’s happy-go-lucky attitude very well.”
Cas perks up at that, feeling his chest warm-up — probably because of the drink actually— as he stands up straighter with a hopeful grin. “You think so?”
“Have I ever wronged you, sir?”
“You’re right, Balthazar! He would never like that-that depressing man.” Cas smile grows. “Cause you know, the kids, they would miss him very much if he left.”
Balthazar shuts his laptop as he rolls his eyes, “For god’s sake, sir! It’s only the first-!” He looks at Cas’s stunned expression before slowly falling back in his chair, a cheeky smile on his face. “I mean, with all due respect, sir.”
“Yes.” Cas sighs, ignoring the outburst. “I think you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?”
“Maybe a tad bit, sir.”
A chuckle came out of his mouth as Cas opens the trash can and plucks out the bag to throw it outside. He walks towards the back door as he says, “I didn’t see anything between them anyways. I’m sure it’ll be fine!”
Cas pulls the back door open only to find Dean and his date making out. Leaving Cas standing there stunned and fumbling, not knowing if he should break them apart or close the door.
“I don’t see anything between them either, sir.” Balthazar joked as they both watched Dean press closer to his date. Unaware of their audience. Balthazar was the one to finally close the door, taking the bag of trash away from Cas, as he leads him towards the stairs. “I believe it’s time for you to go to bed, Mr. Novak.”
“Yes. Yes. You’re probably right.” Cas shook his head, hoping to erase that image away like an etch a sketch, but he still saw Dean’s mouth being sucked on. “Goodnight.”
“Night, sir.”
(More Under The Cut)
In the morning, Cas somehow convinced himself—Balthazar was only half-listening to his words anyways— to talk to Dean about the rules of the house. It had to be done. He didn’t want Dean to bring home strange people to his home, where his children lived. He didn’t want to see—or better yet— he didn’t want his kids to see Dean bring people into his room.
What kind of example will that present to them? Not a very good one.
He knocks at the door and quickly gets an answer to come in; Dean never hesitates to have any of the kids in his room. Cas would usually find them all curled up in Dean’s bed watching cartoons on a Sunday morning.
“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Cas poked his head into the room first, and that enough stopped him short. Dean looked like he was getting ready to go out.
Dean is dressed in a comfortable-looking robe, no shirt, and he’s assuming no pants by the fact that he can see a peek of his thighs from the slit in the front.
“Morning, Mr. Novak. What can I do for you?” Dean turned back to the mirror, a small smile stretched across his lips as he continued to fix his hair.
“I just wanted to talk about your um—You know we have rules in this house, and I just wanted to make sure you know them.”
“Oh, I think you have me confused with Claire. She’s two doors down.” Dean teased.
“No. No, this is about your date. About you having dates. And-And having…dates.” Cas sighed the last word, unable to get the word he wants out without his whole body warming up. “Anyways,” He cleared his throat. “The rules of the house with me-”
“Oh, with you? Gosh, maybe I should have read the fine print better.” Dean teased, winking at him through his reflection as he ran his hands through his growing hair.
“No. Not like that!”
“Let me get this straight.” Dean turns to face Cas before practically strutting over to Cas, half-dressed in a semi-open robe. Cas eyes struggle not to travel on the man before him. “We are talking about having sex in my room.”
“Well, not-not us. Not we.” Cas nervous gestures between them, noticing his hand hit Dean’s bare chest in the process because they were standing so damn close.
“We already covered that.” Dean winks at him again, making Cas’s heart race. “Don’t worry, Mr. Novak, I won’t do anything to show a bad example for the children.”
“Good.” Cas stuffs his hands in his pockets as he rocks on his heels. “Yes. Good. Okay!”
“Okay.” Dean turns back to the mirror.
“Where are you going anyways?” That sounded way too demanding. “If I may ask?”
“Well, if you must know. I got another date. We’re meeting for lunch.”
“Again?”
“Yeah. Well, I gotta eat.”
“Of course. Well, have fun, Mr. Winchester.”
“Thank you, Mr. Novak. Nice chat.”
Cas makes his way out of the room, bumping on furniture as he went.
Cas walks into the kitchen that same afternoon to find Dean sitting on the kitchen counter, shoveling ice cream into his mouth. Cas quickly rushes over to take the spoon away from him.
“Mr. Winchester! You are lactose intolerant!”
“Well, I deserve a little bit of ice cream after the crap day I had, and the coconut milk one you got me is still frozen solid!”
“Oh,” Cas puts the ice cream away before walking back to him. “Date didn’t go so well this time? Was it the whole creepy mortician life?”
“No,” Dean sighs, watching as Cas runs the Dean-friendly fudge brownie ice cream under some hot water. “Weirdly enough, I was getting used to the idea.”
“Then, what was wrong with him?” Cas hands Dean a spoon, and they both dig into the still hard ice cream, but they can still scape a few bits off. Cas tried not to follow the way Dean’s tongue pokes out and licks at the spoon.
“He was a clown.” Dean sighs, spinning the spoon in his hand before aggressively digging at the pint of ice cream.
“In what way?”
“In a clown way.”
“What-?”
“Red nose! Big shoes! You want me to google it for you?” Cas looks stunned by the outburst. But it clicks; he means an actual fucken clown. He tried not to laugh as Dean let out a defeated sigh. “Sorry. I just thought…I just thought I finally found someone. You know? I’m 30. I should have found someone already.”
“I’m sorry, Dean. But I’m sure you will. You’ll find someone special who won’t honk their nose at you.” Cas bops Dean’s nose, it’s awkward, but Dean still chuckles when he pushes Cas’s hand away.
The atmosphere around them was warm and comforting, something he wishes to drown in. But in a respectable boss-and-employee-who-lives-with-him kind of way. The smile they share fades a little as they look away, and then Dean jumps off the counter with a yawn.
“I’m gonna head to bed now. Goodnight, Mr. Novak.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester.”
And just like that, they are back to professionals.
The following day, Dean is in the room talking to Sam about his dating life.
“You just think the perfect person is gonna knock at your door yelling out ‘there you are! I found you!’”
“Oh, there you are.” Cas walks in, neither Sam nor Dean notices the coincidence, holding out two different ties. “What tie should I wear? Blue or yellow?”
“Blue. Goes great with your eyes.” Dean turns around to tie the tie nicely around Cas’s neck. Sam gave them no attention as it was an action that happens regularly.
When he was done, he fixes Cas’s collar and pats his shoulder before telling him he looks good.
“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”
Cas walks out of the room while Dean continues to get ready as he talks. “I just want a person who actually respects and values my opinions, not just my pretty face.”
“Ah, sorry to bother you again, Mr. Winchester,” Cas walks back in. “but I do value your opinion. Should I wear the gold cufflinks or the silver?”
“Gold is a classic. But make sure it’s those nice ones Claire picked out for you. She’ll love to see them.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you! That would be great.” Cas walks out of the room with a grateful smile.
Sam is still flipping through Dean’s magazine collection as he sighs, “Yeah, Dean, that’s never going to happen. You should have just dated the damn clown,”
“And what? Never see you again cause you’ll be scared my boyfriend is in full makeup? No, thank you. Now let’s go before we’re late to the damn game.”
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donaidk · 4 years ago
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Looking at me - Arthur Leclerc
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Thank you so much for requesting! I already had an idea in my head for something like this and you just gave that last push! It was my first time writing in third person, and I really-really need the practice. Still I hope you will enjoy this 😀🧡 Have a great weekend everyone!
Inspiration song
Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request
Getting a chance to walk a well known fashion show at the age of 19 was a huge step in her career. She had jobs and photoshoots all the time, but everyone knew that you’re becoming a name in the industry when well known brands ask you to model for them. She already had a photoshoot with one of them a year ago, but having that break since then and now made her think she probably wouldn’t make it into the real fashion world. However, after Alpha Tauri gave her a chance thanks to Pierre, she was contacted by a well known brand just days after the release of the pictures and they asked her to attend their show at the end of the year. Having the promise of such a big show got her through every harder moment throughout the year and she felt like December couldn’t turn up quick enough.
Luckily as it was well after the end of the season for Pierre he could attend with their parents and siblings. She couldn’t even imagine going through something like this without them. Y/N used her last two guest seats to invite both Charles and Arthur. They were friends of their family and she knew Charles was into fashion and would always take the opportunity to attend shows. He probably could have bought tickets to it himself, but it wasn’t the same as being invited by someone who worked for the company that time. It was also probably the only way to make it seem less strange that Y/N would have liked Arthur to attend. No one asked questions why he was there if he came with his brother. There’s no easier way to do it.
The two of them were quite good friends, as they spent most of their childhood together and later could connect over being younger siblings to well known athletes. It was probably easier for her as she at least went her own way while Arthur was following in Charles’ footsteps, exactly. He was a talented driver, but people and the media always loved to compare the brothers, always bringing down at least one of them even though they were never really in the same championship or position at the same time. They usually talked at least weekly, but after harder races or attacks from the media either Y/N reached out to him or the other way around. It was just easy to support each other as they understood each other’s challenges and hardships. They couldn’t complain though, as both had family and other friends who supported them in their careers and personal lives also.
“ They’re outside. ” Pierre’s voice got her to jump in her chair a little before Y/N took in what he said. “ I’ll get them to the seats and we will meet after the show, yeah? ” He asked, taking the passes from the table next to her. She knew they wouldn’t have time for her to greet their friends and get back here in time.
“ Yeah, thank you. Enjoy. ” Y/N nodded with a grin before getting a kiss on her cheek from him. “ I’m gonna try not to trip. ” She added with a chuckle before he left, watching as he closed the door after himself while she could still hear him laugh. She leaned back in her seat as everything was already done for the show, and it was now just minutes until the start of the show.
She finally chose a photo from the morning when we arrived at the avenue, to share it on her story. Making sure it uploaded fine she could see Arthur’s profile picture in the bottom left, telling her that he already saw it, making her smile immediately. Y/N sent him a quick selfie with her eyes closed and holding up a peace sign as the grin still didn’t leave her face. She was just about to put her phone down when he sent one back, mimicking her pose and making her laugh out loud. He did look silly and seeing Pierre so confused in the background of it just made it even better. She wanted to respond but then had to leave when they were calling her name from the hallway. With one last deep breath she fixed her hair in the mirror before leaving the dressing room and following all the girls to the backstage.
She felt like an anxious mess right until it was her turn and had to step out onto the stage as they counted down for her from the sideline. She made sure her dress wasn’t in the way of her steps, although knew they practiced for any possible outcome and knew she would manage even in a dodgy situation. Her heart was beating so loud Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if the people watching the show could hear it over all the music and talking. She still tried to look cool on the outside, her grin not faltering for one bit as she walked down the length of the stage stopping at the end and turning for the cameras. Her way back was a bit more relaxed already, knowing she did her job and just had to get back from where they started. She had one more dress at the end of the show but that seemed a lot easier after such a smooth sailing first appearance. The second one felt like a treat for a job well done and she was ecstatic as she changed into her outfit for the after party. Her body felt sore from all the excitement and then adrenaline that already left. However, her mind was still running and looking forward to the night as she went to the lobby where she knew the others would be waiting for her.
“ You looked stunning out there, Y/N! ” Charles greeted her with a tight hug, making her chuckle quietly. Stepping back from his embrace the next ones were Pierre and her family before Y/N could finally turn to Arthur, not forgetting about him in any way.
“ Thank you for coming. ” Y/N said before hugging him, although it was something that was for his brother too, not just him. “ Hope you’re not too tired yet. We have a long night ahead of us. ” She let out another laugh after letting go of him but she didn’t even get to step away too much before he held up a bouquet of blooming flowers.
“ Just a little congratulatory present. Wanted to give it to you prior to the show, but that didn’t really work out. ” He said with a little blush creeping up onto his cheeks, as she took the flowers from his hands, immediately smelling them.
“ Thank you, they’re beautiful. ” Her eyes were still fixed on the bunch of them, taking in how sweet it was of Arthur. It was made from all of her favourite types of flowers, not missing any from the short list she could make up in her head. “ I’ll make sure they get home safe. Wouldn’t want to kill them at the club. ” Y/N let out a little laugh, turning to her mum while they exited the building together.
Luckily her family offered to take her things back home while they went straight to the venue of the after party. Her other siblings went home too after some last minute hugs, leaving the four of them to be the only ones to attend. There were cars that took the guests to the rooftop bar that was decorated perfectly for the occasion. The moon was shining onto the balcony, but there were also lights running over them, making sure everything was visible and people wouldn’t trip over each other or the few steps around the bar and dancefloor. It was the perfect setting for a party that was relaxed but at the same time a true after party, where everyone could let out their pent up energy and adrenaline from the show.
Minutes after they left the elevator, that took them to the floor of the balcony, they were already standing next to a table with their drinks on it. They were watching the crowd dancing just inches away from them while discussing the day. Pierre and Charles were deep into  one of their usual disagreements about their past season, making Y/N shake her head. It wouldn’t have been them if they got through a day spent together without a silly argument. That would have been too easy. She has been watching the crowd blocking out the bickering coming from next to her, gathering courage to join the dancing even though she never backed off being the center of attention it wasn’t the same with strangers. She knew just a few people from here, almost half of it being the ones she invited herself.
“ A dance? ” She turned to Arthur in the end when she could see that his glass was empty. He froze for a second, looking around them. “ You don’t have to, but I would rather turn deaf from the loud music than them roasting each other. ” She chuckled, cocking her head towards her brother and Charles standing across them. She took the last sip of her drink and was about to get into the crowd when Arthur nodded and putting down the glass from his hand was ready to follow her.
“ I’m not a big dancer, I’m warning you. ” Arthur sighed, but wouldn’t have denied himself the chance to spend some time with her in a more private setting. They never mentioned anything about stepping up their friendship, but that didn’t mean they never thought about separately, in their own heads. 
Y/N took his hand with a grin, pulling him towards the dance floor, weaving through the people standing close, leaving them a sliver of space to navigate their way. They had to stop a few times people stumbling in their way or bumping into them while they were getting closer to their destination. Y/N saw two of the girls she knew a bit better, and decided it will be better to be with friends than alone. Arthur greeted them, quickly introducing himself and even though they were already safe, standing in a less crowded space, in the moment Y/N didn’t let go of his hand while they enjoyed the music and the company. Arthur did take part in the dancing, although several of his moves ended up making them laugh and him blush a little although it never made him stop. He was happy to be the source of their joy for the night.
A few songs later Arthur excused himself from the group to get a drink for himself, while the girls stayed in the same position. Y/N spotted a few guys just seconds after he left, watching them, and approaching their group as soon as Arthur was out of the view. They were quite rude, not caring about how the girls tried to ignore them and get them to leave finally. Y/N was about to just leave and not even look back when she felt a hand come around her waist. Without looking up at the owner of the hand she got to know who was standing behind her by just the voice.
“ I think you should search for another company. The ladies aren’t interested. ” Arthur informed the intruders and by knowing him for years, Y/N could tell he was really focusing on the pronunciation. He seemed serious, like never before and it did the trick, getting the guys to turn around and leave mumbling some swears in his way.
“ Thank you! For both. ” Y/N smiled up at their saviour, taking the half full glass from his hand as he held it out for her. Arthur just shrugged his shoulders, relaxing his shoulders and taking a sip from his drink.
What they didn’t see was Pierre and Charles paying close attention to their group from afar. Her brother still had his fists clenched but he was slowly letting up as the situation got resolved and the younger ones could continue enjoying the party and drinks. Looking at each other they agreed with a sigh at being glad Arthur was there with them and helped them get out of a sticky situation. From the outside they did see how the younger Leclerc and Y/N were around each other, although neither of them wanted to push them towards a goal. It seemed simple, inevitable, but they wanted them to find their own way. It wasn’t rare that the only possible way wasn’t the best way in the end. Meaning, even if they looked compatible for an outsider, it was possible that a relationship between them wouldn’t be long-lived.
They stayed until their legs felt sore from dancing and standing around, and their minds were in a comfortable fuzzy state from the few drinks they got. The night wasn’t young anymore when they got into a taxi, heading for Pierre’s apartment that had enough space for all four of them. They all took turns in the shower and decided on who will sleep and where. There was only one guest bedroom and in the end Charles gladly gave it up to Y/N saying she was the one who worked today, taking the couch with a duvet and a pillow. She was about to just go and finally get a chance to fall asleep, when Arthur stepped out of the bathroom now in his pajamas. For a second she debated if she should just let him sleep on the other couch or maybe act on her idea.
“ We can share the bed if you would like. It's big enough for two people. ” She offered in the end, with a shy smile, pointing towards the bedroom down the hallway. “ I promise I won’t snore. Unlike Charl. ” Y/N let out a quiet laugh, making sure the mentioned brother didn’t hear it and wouldn’t try to get back at her for it.
Arthur had to agree with a sigh that sleeping in the same room as her brother, would have been on the same level as some late torture methods. He couldn’t really deny the offer, taking his things as they wished goodnight to the others and walked down to the bedroom. Within seconds they were both under the duvet, managing to share it and not pull it off the other one. They did start out quite far away from each other, but Y/N couldn’t be fed up when she woke up in the middle of the night to an arm draping over her waist. It grounded her while she had to get used to her surroundings and helped her get back to her dream right until the delicious smell of lunch got them back to reality around midday. They shared a moment, gazes locking, before getting out of bed with grins on their faces, both deciding to push the conversation to another time. At least until lunch, as Y/N’s stomach grumbled as soon as she was standing next to the bed.
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tomtenadia · 3 years ago
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Till food do us part - Rowaelin one shot
Good evening everyone.
I am back with a quick Rowaelin oneshot. This short fic came to me last week while I was in my hotel in Inveress getting ready to check out. Once on the train back to Aberdeen I had two hours and a half and I wrote this.
It’s a simple story and  just pure undiluted Rowaelin domestic fluff. I think I had to compensate for the angst in ALB. There’s no angst, just our two lovebirds being their adorable selves. 
The title is ridiculous. It took me more time to choose it than to write the whole fic. And it’s still bad. Sorry, I hate choosing titles.
Ach well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy.
Word count: 2.5k 
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Aelin was in the kitchen all alone, in front of her on the counter she had all the pots and pans she would require to prepare her meal. At one side she had her cooking book and on the opposite side she had lined up all the ingredients needed. 
That was meant to be a special night and she wanted everything to be perfect. And because of that she had been nervous. She was not good at cooking like her boyfriend so for her to prepare a full meal from scratch was a monumental task. She just hoped not to burn down the house. He had been teaching her slowly, starting with very simple things but that evening, no matter what she was going to cook for him.
The plan was to prepare everything a part from the dessert which she had bought from the local bakery. Although her boyfriend was not a fan of sugary stuff, the night called for dessert. 
She and Rowan had been together for five years. They worked for the same company but on different floors and departments. She was in marketing, Rowan was part of the legal team and was one of the company’s lawyers.
They had a bit of a turbulent start. They met in the cafeteria and Rowan had the bad habit of being always a bit of ahead of her in the queue and always take the last portion of the food she wanted. Far too many times she had ended up eating food she did not want because of him. She had even tried to go to lunch at a different times but the man was always there. Her own personal hell. So after a whole month of that she had decided to take matter in her own hands and slowly plan her revenge. Rowan was a creature of habit, so she spent a few weeks studying him and his routine. Aelin had learned he loved to eat alone. He had friends but the lunch hour was his time to wind down and he did not want any drama or any shop talk. That would make her plan much easier. Eventually she hatched her plan. She started swapping the content of the salt and pepper shakers or even replacing them with other stuff. Aelin had also started making his table sticky or cluttering with empty trays. He still had no idea it was her but she enjoyed watching him muttering and probably cursing whoever did that to him. She had quickly learned that the man was hard to tick off completely. She would notice some small signs of irritation but that’s all the reaction she got, so she decided it was time to go big. 
And her final plan came into existence the day the cafeteria served mac and cheese and he took the last portion from her. She was fuming. If she could not have mac and cheese so wouldn’t he. 
She waited for him to make his way back to his table and then she walked straight into him. Their trays smashing against each others and the food landing on his shirt. She had muttered a weak sorry and had fled with a grin on her face.
She had later found out that she had made him late for an important meeting and caught hell from his boss Lorcan.
Until one day he started to retaliate. Apparently, she had found out, he knew all long it was her messing with his meals.
And so a long series of pranks had begun between them, most of them taking place in the cafeteria since that was the place they used to share the most.
However, sometimes along the way, Aelin realised pranking him was not fun anymore and that pesky feelings had started to take root in her.
Until one day he showed up in her office with two portions of mac and cheese from Emrys and a peace offering. They had the lunch in the privacy of her office, they talked and she realised very quickly that he was quite a fascinating man. Also, she would have lied to herself if she had ignored the fact that the man was hotness incarnated. He was tall and had a healthy muscular build. He would always wear impeccable tailored suits which made his backside very prominent and more than once her eyes had wandered. He had the most beautiful pine green eyes and she adored his silver hair.
Soon she had to admit that she had a crush on him. And then some.
And when Rowan finally asked her out she could not believe her ears. The sexiest man in the company wanted to go out with her. So she said yes.
Fast forward five years and Aelin was now cooking for their fifth anniversary and as a joke she had put mac and cheese on the menu. It was their dish and their own joke as well.
Aelin had a look at the clock and realised she had half an hour tops before he came back home.
While preparing mac and cheese she took a sip from the glass of wine at her side. She had bought two bottles of Rowan’s favourite wine and she had started the celebrations a bit earlier.
In the oven in the meantime, the pork roast and the potatoes were cooking and she was busy checking the food that she almost missed the sound of the front door opening and closing.
“I am home,” shouted a happy voice.
“Kitchen.” She shouted back.
When she stood she saw him in leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms at his chest and a strange grin on his face “you are cooking?” He asked surprised, raising an eye brow in a question.
Aelin grabbed a glass of wine, took a step closer to him and gave it to him “Happy anniversary, buzzard.” And she went to him for a kiss he did not deny it to her.
“Oh, so you waited five years for your final revenge and win with food poisoning.” Still leaning against the doorframe he took a sip of wine and looked at her with a smirk.
Aelin just glared at him “I can cook.”
“Aelin, I love you, but cooking is definitely not your strongest asset.”
She waved her wooden spoon in his face “I’ll show you.”
Rowan chuckled happily and stooped for a kiss “happy anniversary, menace.”
Aelin moved another step in his direction “now go,” and she patted his chest “get changed and let me finish.”
Half an hour later the dining table was all set, with some candles on to set the romantic mood and a new bottle of win in the middle. Everything looked perfect and she was chuffed.
“This looks lovely,” his voice reached her as he re entered the room and his arms wound around her waist.
“I hope it’s good as well.” She said while pulling back from the embrace and pushing him to his seat. 
“Let me help,” he offered but Aelin pushed him again.
“No, just sit down.”
Quickly she went to get the appetisers: she had prepared raw smoked salmon on oatcakes with cream cheese and chives. They had that at a party and they loved it and realised it was something easy to make and almost impossible for her to mess it up. The only thing she had to do was to assemble the ingredients in a nice display.
Rowan in the meantime poured some wine for both and made happy noises at the wine.
“Fancy,” he added, commenting on the appetiser.
“Easy mostly. I took inspiration from the last party we went to.”
Rowan took one of the oatcakes and she relaxed when she saw him smile. Oh well, at least if the rest of the meal was a disaster they could eat oatcakes and salmon.
“Did you have a good day at work?” She asked, she had a day off and she hadn’t seen him since the morning when he left for work.
“It’s the end of the month and as you can imagine Lorcan has been his unpleasant self.”
“I need these reports on the desk by the end of yesterday?” She said, imitating the man’s voice.
Rowan chuckled and took another oatcake “that’s the gist.”
Once the appetisers were over, Aelin stood and went to get the next course. That was the surprise and the dish that meant the most.
She brought the oven dish to the dining table.
“You made mac and cheese.” Rowan’s tone was full of love.
“I did.” She took his plate and was ready to serve him his portion. It looked great and for a moment she had hoped. The recipe was for the baked version and the crust at the top looked golden and crunchy. Then she dipped the spatula to cut it and terror took her. It was runny. 
“No, no, no, no, no…” she panicked.
“What happened?” Rowan stood and moved at her side.
“It happened that I should not be allowed to cook.” She sat on the chair and sniffled.
“I am sure it’s not that bad…”
“Ro,” Aelin almost shouted in frustration at his tone “you can drink it with a straw, mac and cheese is supposed to be creamy.”
He looked over “I think you put too much milk,” and with his hand he brushed her lower back in support.
Aelin started sobbing “I messed up the main dish. It was meant to be like the one we shared in my office.”
Rowan was about to reply when he smelled smoke “is something burning?”
“Holy fuck,” Aelin stood abruptly and ran to the kitchen and when she opened the oven a cloud of smoke engulfed her. The roast and the potatoes where charcoal. She sat dejected in front of the oven  and Rowan joined and sat at her side “you have the most useless girlfriend ever.”  
He brushed her hair off her face “ I do not.” A gentle kiss on her lips “my girl is brilliant, fearless, intelligent and very, very hot.” She gave him a wet chuckle. Gods, she loved him.
“I ruined our anniversary.”
Rowan stood and offered her his hand “you did not.” She took it and stood in front of him.
“We are going to Emrys, he does some amazing mac and cheese.”
“Fine,” she conceded.
Rowan cupped her face, refusing to let her be sad. He knew Aelin was not good at cooking and he had tried to teach her but once on her own she seemed to struggle. 
But as the boyfriend madly in love with her he was more than happy to cook for both, everyday, forever.
Aelin did not seem convinced and still pouted at her mess. Rowan noticed that and cupped her face in his hand and kissed het tenderly “Hey, it was a lovely gesture and I am proud of you.” He took her hand in his, “now let’s go.”
They got changed and not long after they were walking to Emrys. Rowan’s arm on around her shoulder.
Aelin looked up at him and noticed a strange light in his eyes and a small grin. Whatever it was, he did not seem bothered by her fiasco.
Once they reached Emrys froze and cursed the evening that was turning into pure hell “it’s Monday, they are close. We are two idiots.” But all Rowan did was to push her toward the front door.
“Ro, they are closed.”
“Shush,” he said gently placing his hand on her lower back.
A moment later Emrys’ smiling face appeared on the door “hello Rowan, come in, it’s all ready.” Said the man stepping aside to let them in.
Aelin was stunned. speechless. He had an evening planned.
She turned to him “did you know I was going to mess up so you had a plan b?” Her tone full with irritation at his lack of trust in her.
Rowan looked at her, his eyes dancing with mirth “I didn’t even know you were going to cook. I booked all of this over a week ago.” He told her “I knew our anniversary would fall on a Monday, so I asked Emrys and Malakai if it was okay to use the place for our dinner.”
She stood on her tiptoes “I love you.” And kissed him. Rowan took her hand and walked inside the main room of the restaurant and Aelin again was stunned. The whole room had been decorated with white fairy lights, the table had candles and there were kingsflames in a vase as well.
“Happy anniversary, Fireheart.” And pulled her to his chest “I hope you’ll love this.”
“It’s perfect,” she said to him, feeling teary.
They sat down and Malakai brought wine “Emrys is just finishing up the last few things, it should not be too long.” Explained the man while pouring the wine.
He came back a moment later and brought back freshly baked pitta bread and hummus “just as a starter.”
Aelin attacked the appetisers, realising she was starving.
Once the appetiser was out of the way Rowan took her hand.
“I am glad I burned dinner, this is so much better.”
They had gone to Emrys for their first date which turned out to be their favourite restaurant and slowly their weekly dinner treat. It had become their place pretty quickly.
She was talking to Rowan when she noticed Emrys walking to them with a large oven dish and when Aelin looked, she saw mac and cheese. And it looked incredible.
“Of course,” said Rowan at her expression and poured more wine. It was a good thing they walked. Emrys plated their dinner and then walked away with a Cheshire cat grin.
“Go on, tuck in,” Rowan said to her once he noticed her eager expression.
Aelin did so and almost moaned savagely. It was divine.
After a few bites Rowan put the fork down and took her hand again, brushing his thumb on the top of it “thank you for walking into me that day in the cafeteria.” He told her, his green eyes on her “I know we had our ups and downs but these five years with you have been incredible.” He stood and took her hand inviting her to follow him. She stood with him and Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest. She wanted to complain she was eating, but whatever he was doing it seemed important.
Violin music spread in the room and Aelin recognised one of her favourite pieces of classical music. He swayed gently as if to dance, placed her hand on his shoulder and held her, his hand on her lower back.
“And I hope we’ll have many more together.” Aelin looked up at him and nodded, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. He kissed her with passion and then he pulled back a little “Aelin, my fireheart, will you do me the honour of joining me in the next adventure of our life and become my wife?”
Aelin sobbed loudly “only if you promise to keep cooking for me.”
Rowan laughed “Always.”
She threw her arms around his neck “yes, yes I will marry you.”
Rowan placed the ring on her finger then lifted her in his arms and kissed her. 
He would cook for her, make her happy until his last day.
To whatever end.
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gureishi · 4 years ago
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Your writing is amazing, and all those prompts are great! :) Could I request number 17 for Saeyoung with a female MC? Hurt/Comfort, and NSFW, please. Thank you so much, have a great day!
THANK YOU! <3 
So here, let me tell you what happened...
I looked at this prompt and I thought about Saeyoung (let’s be real, I’m always thinking about Saeyoung) and my brain screamed CABIN, CABIN, and I realized...oh my god, in all the thousands of words of Saeyoung X Reader fanfiction I’ve written, I’ve somehow never written my version of their (probably) canon first time.
So I DID IT! And it’s long af cause...well, of course it is.
seventeen: i came here for sanctuary
Saeyoung X Reader, E (M/F sex), words: 6930 (!!)
Smut warning, proceed with caution ♡
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・
The sun sinks behind the trees, the last streaks of yellow melting from the sky. Gravel crunches beneath the sleek little car’s wheels as it slows to a stop. The only light is from the phone in your hand—you can’t see anything outside the windows but dark, dark, dark.
“Wait,” Saeyoung whispers. “Just a minute.”
He turns off the car and without its rumbling the silence feels louder. You sit absolutely still and your heart pounds.
Saeyoung holds out his hand and, wordlessly, you pass him his phone. He pulls up a new GPS, one you don’t know how to read; zooms in; breathes a sigh of relief.
“Okay,” he says, louder. “We’re safe here.”
With that, he flings open the door, and you realize you must have absolute trust in him after all as you follow suit, stepping out into the unknown.
Outside, you can see a little more. There’s no moon tonight, but the stars are huge here, and by their light you make your way around the car, stand beside Saeyoung as he opens the trunk. He passes your backpack to you and slings the other, larger bag over his shoulder. He does this quickly, quietly, as if it’s a routine. Finding a safe house in the dark, unpacking the car in silence—for him, you suppose, it is a routine.
“Um, maybe we should—” He hesitates, awkwardly holds out a hand to you. You grin.
“Do you still need an excuse to hold my hand?” You slip your hand into his larger, warmer one, and he interlaces his fingers with yours.
“I’ll take any excuse I can get,” he says, winking, and you feel calmer. You’d follow this man to the ends of the earth, you think.
Hand-in-hand, you walk up the gravel path. You can see now that he’s parked beside a smallish cabin—it looks built by hand, the kind you’ve seen in reality shows (“fashionable young couple leaves it all behind for a rustic cabin in the woods!”) You weren’t sure things like this existed. Of course they do, you tell yourself. Stupid.
Saeyoung pulls a ring of keys you’ve never seen before out of the side pocket of his bag and spins it around, inserting a little, unlabelled key into the door. You raise your eyebrows.
“Come here often?”
He laughs and the sound warms you up from the inside: you loved his laugh the very first time you heard it, what feels like a lifetime ago. You love the way he giggles when you tease him and the way he cackles when he’s proud of himself and the way he laughs like this—bubbly, like he finds everything you do and say impossibly delightful.
“It’s actually an old agency hideout,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea at first, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here for years.”
He pushes the door open and you follow him inside; you’re immediately hit by a wave of cold and a damp, musky scent. You don’t mind it—it reminds you of the basement of the home you lived in as a child.
“I think there’s…somewhere around here…” He pushes ahead, muttering to himself, and you wait in the doorway, keeping it cracked so he can see by the lights of the stars. “Ah-ha!” A dim light flickers on.
Saeyoung sighs, turning around to survey the room.
“This isn’t a place for someone like you,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the furnishings—it’s a single room, with an out-of-use fireplace and some boxes full of you-don’t-want-to-know-what stacked in one corner. There’s also a little work station and (you feel a little thrill dance up your spine) a single, slightly lumpy bed pushed against the back wall.
Nice bed. Plenty of room for…activities, whispers a voice in the back of your mind—it’s a gremlin, you think, a silly, horny gremlin, hiding in the recesses of your imagination. Shut up, you tell the gremlin.
“I like it,” you say aloud. “I could live here.” You shut the door and the click echoes in the little room.
You feel Saeyoung’s eyes on you and turn; he’s still standing in the middle of the room, watching you with a sort of reverence on his face.
“You’re amazing,” he says.
Leap into his arms and kiss him breathless, the gremlin says, and you bite your lip, hushing your inner voice. Your neck feels hot.
“You’re the amazing one,” you tell him. For some reason the air in the cabin is reverberating like a plucked string and you’re afraid if you get any closer to him the string will snap. You edge around the outer wall, drop your backpack on the bare mattress, perch on the edge of the bed. “You got us this far.”
He turns to follow you with his eyes, watching as you nervously fiddle with the straps of your bag. There’s a strange expression on his face and you don’t know what to do with your body.
He shakes his head as if to clear it and then abruptly turns from you, crosses to the little desk on the opposite wall, starts pulling things out of his bag with a little too much fervor.
“Will you be okay for a while?” he asks quietly, his back turned. “I just have to…” He waves a hand at the two laptops he’s set on the desk.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He turns to look at you now, and he’s still got that strange, conflicted look on his face. He starts to say something, stops himself. Swallows.
“You can try and keep yourself warm,” he says. “The fireplace would be too big a risk, if it even still works, but check the closet by the bathroom. I think there’s a space heater in there, and there should definitely be blankets.”
And before you can respond he’s all business again, plugging things into other things; there’s already a low hum emitting from one of the computers.
So you do as you’re told: slip out of your shoes, pad across the unfinished wood floor in your thick socks. Open the closet, start peering into the mysterious boxes there. Find, by some miracle, the old, dusty space heater. Get it going.
You wrap yourself up as tightly as you possibly can in one of the thick, stiff blankets you found neatly folded in the closet and curl up on the bare mattress. And you wait.
Time passes.
The sound of his keyboard is like a lullaby to you, nowadays, and you drift between sleep and wakefulness, your head swimming with thoughts of him: the beautiful curve of his cheekbones as he drives into the sunset, the buzzy delight of his fingers on your thigh, the cautious way he brushes his lips over yours on those brief, stolen moments of rest between driving, driving, driving…
The typing stops and your eyes fly open, blinking at him through the flickering light from the single lamp. His back is straight; his fingers aren’t moving.
You call his name. Repeat it. 
“Yeah?” His voice sounds rough and you untangle your legs from the blanket. You want to ask if he’s okay but already know the answer.
“How’s it going?” you ask instead—vaguely, lamely. You twist the thick fabric of the blanket in your fingers. What a silly, meaningless question.
“We’ll definitely catch up to him tomorrow,” Saeyoung says hollowly. You consider going to him, wrapping your arms around his tense shoulders, but you don’t know if he’ll let you—the physical affection between you is so new, so tenuous. 
“I’m glad,” you say, because it’s the truth.
He twists around in his chair to peer at you. There are familiar dark circles under his eyes, worry written on his soft features.
“You’re not scared?” he asks.
“A little,” you tell him. “But I trust you.”
He sighs, pushes his glasses up, runs one shaky hand over his face. “You have too much faith in me.”
“You’ve given me no reason not to have faith in you.” You unwind yourself more from the big blanket. The space heater has worked, filling the room with smoky warmth. “Are you scared?” you ask.
He cocks his head to the side as if he’s considering it and, with some surprise, says, “Yeah, I think…I am.”
“What are you scared of?” you ask, not sure if he’ll tell you.
He drums his fingers on his knee, looks around the little room as if stalling for time. “Disappearing,” he says at last.
Oh, how you want to run to him. Kiss the lines of worry off his face and hold him till he melts into you.
“I’m not going to let you go anywhere,” you tell him firmly. You’re not sure why, but you feel very confident about this.
“Thank you,” he says. “But…” He’s looking down at his lap now. “I set up my life so I could disappear without a trace whenever I needed to. So if I do…go away…there’d be nothing left of me. It’d be like I was never here.”
That’s it—you can’t take it anymore. You’ve got no more patience—not when he’s got that frightened, empty look on his face. 
“Come here,” you say, and you open your arms. His cheeks immediately flush pink, and you’re relieved to see embarrassment take the place of hopelessness on his face.
“O-onto the bed?” he stammers, and you grin—because the capable, strong man who you trust with your life is also this hopelessly innocent, charmingly awkward boy, turning bright red at the mere thought of letting you hold him.
“Only if you want to,” you say in your sweetest voice, and he quietly groans.
“Who could say no to that?” he mutters to himself, and you try to stifle a giggle as he swings his leg over the chair and stumbles the few feet to the bed. You wait for him patiently, arms open—cautiously, avoiding your gaze, he crawls toward you, and as he nuzzles his head hesitantly against your chest you fold him into your arms.
“Better?” you ask him.
“Yes, and…no,” he says. You can feel his heart pounding through both his t-shirt and hoodie, and it seems like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. One rests just above your hip, just barely touching you, like he’s not sure whether or not he’s supposed to.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask him. With one hand, you play with a stray curl that’s fallen over his face; his skin feels hot on your fingertips.
“I don’t wanna say,” he murmurs.
You brush the hair off his forehead and then, because you just want to, you press a single, soft kiss to his hairline. He shudders.
“Tell me,” you say. Saeyoung has been still as a statue this whole time; now, his hand shifts, putting just the tiniest bit of pressure on your hip. He’s still barely touching you but suddenly you know what he’s thinking, and it’s like an electric current runs through your body and sets your blood on fire. The gremlin chants its encouragement from deep within your mind.
“If…” he says cautiously, and you feel his lips through your shirt as he speaks softly into your chest. Your heart misses a beat. “If tonight is our last night, I just…want to do one thing.”
“It’s not our last night,” you tell him, and your voice sounds too loud, and somehow your focus is narrowing, narrowing so all you can feel is his hand against your hip. You continue working your fingers through his hair, a little more roughly now; he squirms against you and grips your hip harder, harder.
“I hope not,” he whispers. “But if—just in case—can I…be a bit selfish to you?”
You’ve got goosebumps. 
“You can do anything you want to me,” you say, and as soon as the words are out of your mouth you feel you’ve gone too far. The gremlin is roaring.
His head shoots up and suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the intensity of his eyes, his face mere inches from yours.
“Wh-what?” he stammers. His face is flushed and his pupils are huge; he’s looking at you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. And maybe his shyness emboldens you, or maybe you’re drunk on the burning feeling of his fingers on your skin, but you take a deep breath and plunge ahead.
“You can do anything you want,” you repeat slowly, looking down into his beautiful, molten eyes. “To me.”
He audibly gulps. There’s a hard, desperate look on his face. You’ve caught glimpses of this expression before, when he’s kissed you, hands at your back, breathing hard against your lips—but he’s always pulled away, cut things off before they went too far.
Now, he’s not pulling away.
“I want to kiss you,” he breathes.
“So kiss me.”
And he does, slowly closing the distance between you, brushing his lips against yours with so much tenderness and care. He’s holding back, you can tell—wound so tight he’s barely moving, as if he’s terrified of whatever lives underneath his carefully curated exterior.
You part your lips and he trembles and—keep going, hisses the gremlin—you deepen the kiss, sweep the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip.
“Mmmm,” you hum, relishing the sweet-salty taste of him, and you weave one hand into the base of his messy curls.
This breaks him. He swivels abruptly, crashing his hips into yours, kissing you harder now—clumsy, rough, electric, wonderful. Delighted by his sudden ferocity, you mold into him, raking your hands down the back of his neck.
He pulls back a fraction of an inch, panting, a wild look on his face.
“I…s-sorry…” he pants. “I c-can’t…”
“Tell me what else you want,” you say. You run a hand up his chest and feel his muscles tensing, his body vibrating.
“I—I want to…” His eyes roam your body and he’s never looked at you quite like this before and—oh god, you think, you didn’t know you could want somebody this much.“I want to…touch you,” he says, his voice low.
The gremlin cheers.
“Touch me where?” you whisper. You roll your hips under his and he moans, grasping desperately at your shoulders with bruising fingers.
“N-not fair,” he hisses. Then he’s kissing you again, more confidently this time, lips parted and hands skimming down your arms, across your torso. Your shirt has ridden up and his calloused fingertips graze your bare skin, making you dizzy, so you wrap your legs around his waist, pull him against you—he groans, kissing you ferociously, breathlessly. Every point of contact between you burns icy-hot.
You break the kiss and gasp for air. Saeyoung looks totally undone, his eyes unfocused, pupils blown huge as he hovers over you. More, screams your mind gremlin, and you silently agree. Your fingers rove over his chest, under his unzipped hoodie.
“Can I take this off?” you murmur. He nods, looking dazed and a little helpless, and you slip it easily off his shoulders, run your hands down his arms. He’s got goosebumps, too. “Is this okay?” you ask him, fingers dancing over his torso now, under his t-shirt.
“Yeah,” he pants, following your questing hands with his eyes. “Um, can I…?”
“Please,” you say. You lean back a little and he cautiously slips a hand under your shirt. His fingers tickle—you giggle���his face breaks into a smile.
“You’re so soft,” he whispers, exploring the sensitive skin of your belly with one tentative hand. You moan softly, encouraging him, and his hand slides over your ribcage—pausing when he hits the lacy bottom edge of your bra. He looks down, his cheeks reddening again. “I don’t…know what to do with this,” he mutters. It’s your turn to grin. The genius secret agent slash hacker, taken down by a bra.
“Here,” you say. You pull yourself into a sitting position and he rocks back on his heels; you grab your shirt with both hands and easily lift it off, toss it aside.
Saeyoung looks positively enraptured.
“Y-you are…” he stammers. His awe is adorable and charming but the gremlin yells touch me more, dammit, so you take his hand and guide it to your skin, stroking down from your throat all the way to your belly button.
“Now what are you thinking?” you ask him. You lean back and let him explore you with both hands—he is meticulous, running his fingertips over every inch of exposed skin.
“I’m thinking…” He’s red again. “To be honest, I kind of never thought I’d be in this position.”
You giggle. “S-sorry!” you say. “I just…looking at a girl in a bra?”
He chuckles awkwardly, his hands at your waist, his eyes lowered. “Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”
“Oh, then boy do I have a surprise for you.” Before he can respond, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him again. He kisses you back hard, grasping at your sides as if holding on for dear life. You trust his grip and slip your hands behind you, unhooking your bra.
Saeyoung realizes what’s happening just a beat after it happens, and he breaks the kiss, pulling away as if he can’t help himself—eyes unabashedly roaming over your body. You slip the straps down your arms and toss the bra aside. For a moment, it seems as though you’ve rendered him speechless.
Then: “Wow,” he says softly.
You grin, propping yourself up with both hands and arching your back, taunting him a little. “That’s all you have to say?”
He chokes on air, lifts his hands to his hot, flushed cheeks. “You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters.
His worshipful attention emboldens you. “Your turn,” you tell him, sliding your fingers up and under his t-shirt again. He lifts his arms—obediently, as if in a trance—and you pull the shirt over his head. It gets caught for a moment on his glasses and he absently tosses them aside.
“Careful—” you start, but he cuts you off.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says gruffly.
The shirt is off—at last—and you explore his torso with eager fingers. His skin is warm and malleable under your touch; you can feel where there were once defined abs, trademark of years of rigorous training. Now, there’s a layer of softer flesh over those muscles, evidence of his more recent lifestyle.
He winces a little as your fingers graze his belly.
“Not much to look at,” he mutters. “Especially compared to you.”
You shake your head vehemently, tracing the contours of his chest with your hands. “You are so beautiful,” you tell him in a reverent voice. And he is—the muscles in his arms ripple delightfully under his skin as he adjusts his position, sits cross-legged in front of you. His body is perfect, you think—firm and yet soft, sculpted and yet supple.
He looks sideways and down, made embarrassed by your scrutiny. You run your fingertips over a long scar you’ve never seen before, cutting diagonally across his chest and onto his shoulder.
“What do you want now?” you ask him, leaning forward to brush his neck with your lips. He’s breathing heavily and he’s got that look on his face again—like he’s just barely keeping it together.
“I want…you,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut, and you’re not sure if there’s more to the sentence than that—but you can’t stand it anymore, so you climb into his lap, wrapping both legs around his waist. “Oh my god,” he hisses as you adjust in his lap; you press your lips to his neck again and graze the gentle skin with your teeth. His hips shudder underneath you and the friction makes your head swim.
“C-can I…” he whispers throatily, “do that too?”
You giggle, because even with you half-naked and straddling him he’s still got that adorable naïveté and you just want to smother him with affection.
“Do what?” you murmur in his ear, and then you catch his earlobe between your teeth. He groans, low and longing.
“I-I want—” he begins, but then you grind your hips against him and his words crumble into another desperate moan. He grips your hips with both hands, tries again. “I want to…leave evidence,” he rasps, and he’s holding you so tight you’re sure there will be fingerprints on your hips and thighs in the morning. Good, whispers the gremlin. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed,” he says.
Your breath hitches and you don’t miss the unspoken “in case I disappear tomorrow” and you lean back in his lap, baring your throat for him.
“Do it,” you say.
He kisses your lips and then, so slowly, flutters kisses across your cheek, your jaw. He parts his lips and you can feel his teeth on your skin.
“Tell me how,” he whispers.
“Lower,” you say, and you feel his lips drift down your neck. “Open,” you tell him, and his lips part. You stay very still, legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Suck,” you say, and he does, tugging your skin into his mouth. You feel the sharp pressure on your skin and you feel a swooping in your stomach, a neediness at your core. “One…” you count, and he sucks harder, his teeth against your flushed skin. “Two…three. Now.” He pulls back, panting a little, surveying his work with curious eyes.
“It’s red,” he says.
“Good,” you tell him. “Again.”
Without hesitation, he brings his mouth to your neck again, following the muscle that wraps around the front of your throat. He takes your skin between his teeth with more confidence this time and sparks fly behind your closed eyelids.
He meticulously progresses down one side of your neck and up the other, leaving a trail of tender, bruised skin in his wake. It doesn’t hurt much, but the gentle pain is enough to stir up something strong and mysterious inside of you. The gremlin in your mind swims in a sea of pleasure. 
Saeyoung bites you just under your left ear and you can’t keep still anymore, your hips rocking against his, seeking new sensations.
“Saeyoung,” you hiss, and he licks your neck—you know he can feel the way your nails scrabble at his back—your longing has made him bolder. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Am I?” He nibbles your jaw and grins against your skin as you moan. “Should I drive you crazier?”
You are going to lose it, you think. You are going to topple off the cliff of sensations that are barraging your mind and you are going to fall apart entirely.
"You don’t wanna see what will happen if you do,” you mutter.
“I do, though,” he teases, and then he bites your earlobe—hard—and for a moment you can’t see straight. 
You asked for it, you think, and then—before he can react—you slither out of his grip and dart off the bed. Too late, he reaches for you, but you’ve already found your footing, sliding easily to your knees. You grip his waist with both hands and pull him toward you and he follows, automatically, unthinking. It’s only then that he looks down and sees the position you’re in.
His eyes widen and his face flushes a shade darker than his hair. “You’re…that’s…uhhhh,” he manages. You loop two fingers through the waistband of his jeans and tug him closer to the edge of the bed and he goes with you, letting his legs dangle off the side. He opens his mouth as if to say something else. Swallows. Closes it again.
You run one hand over and around his thigh and then, achingly slow, over the obvious bulge in his pants. He makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a squeak.
“Will you let me do this?” you ask, fingers drifting up to the button of his jeans. He tries to speak but fails again. Instead, he nods frantically, and you undo the button, pull down the zipper. His erection springs free, now constrained only by the more forgiving fabric of his boxers. “Help me with these, babe,” you say, tugging at his pants, and he complies eagerly, pulling his jeans off his hips with shaky hands. You guide them down his legs and then you palm him again, through his underwear, thrilled by the way his cock jumps in anticipation at your touch.
“I wanna taste you,” you whisper, and he mutters a string of incoherent syllables, his hips shaking uncontrollably under your ministrations. You slip his boxers up and over his erection, down his thighs, and bend slowly forward, exhaling onto him. His cock jumps again as if seeking out your lips of its own accord. So you bend over further, bring your lips to his tip, dart out your tongue and lick all the way around.
He groans low in his throat and then his hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling your head back.
“No?” you ask, and he whimpers as if stopping you is taking all his strength.
“I…want you to, god I want you to…b-but…” His voice sounds weak and his eyes are shut, his head still tilted back. “If you do that, I won’t…uhhhhh, I won’t be able to…l-last. Very long. At all.” He finally opens his eyes and gazes down at you with such neediness it makes you tremble.
“You don’t have to, baby,” you purr, and he shuts his eyes again with a moan. “Trust me, you’ll…come back around, if that’s what you want.”
He mumbles something and your lips quirk upward as you feel him gathering your hair behind your neck with his hands.
“Then…please,” he hisses, and the gremlin jumps for joy. You round your lips, carefully taking his tip between them; you wrap one hand around his base and slowly, slowly pull him into your mouth.
He utters a totally indistinguishable string of sounds and you suction your lips around him and arch your back, taking him deeper and then slipping away, licking all the way up his length. You grip his base with your other hand and slide your lips over him, in and out, mouth and hand working in tandem. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t last long, you think—his hips have started to shake in a telltale way and so, back arching, you suction your lips around him tighter, rocking forward on your knees. You cup his balls with one hand and breathe in, pulling him further into your mouth—and he comes, hard and fast, wiggling beneath you as he relinquishes control. You open your throat, swallowing everything.
He gasps for air and, gradually, the erratic movements of his hips slow. You pull away from him then, licking the last of the saltiness from his tip, and he lets out a low, hollow moan.
The heat between your legs is almost unbearable now—there was something about making him dissolve in pleasure that completely overwhelmed you and now you feel dizzy.
You pull yourself back onto the bed, crawling to his side and stroking his cheek. His eyes flutter open and he looks ravished, you think, his gaze totally unfocused and his hair beautifully disheveled.
“I…that…” he pants. You kiss his collarbone. “Th-that was…”
“Better than when you do it yourself, huh?” You giggle against his skin and internally beg your gremlin for patience, trying to ignore the steadily growing need at your core.
“I…literally cannot put into words how much better,” he says. “You…”
“Give great head? Are impossibly sexy and cool? Deserve a blessing from God Seven?” You can’t help but scoot closer as you tease him, grinding your hips—still in your pants, dammit—against his side.
“God Seven isn’t worthy,” he says. His eyes rove over your body, and—yes—land on your still-clothed lower half. “God Seven has found a new purpose in life.”
“And that is?” you purr. You shamelessly rub your hips against his side again. You keep your voice level; internally, you’re at the eye of a storm.
He props himself up on his elbows. Maybe he can tell that now you’re the one who’s falling apart; maybe he’s just finally starting to relax (he certainly should feel relaxed, after that, you think)—but you sense that he’s taking control.
“Well.” His tone is commanding, almost intellectual. “The first step is to get you out of these pants.”
“Yes!” you cry, and he chuckles as you enthusiastically undo the button, already pulling them down your thighs. “Finally!”
He waits for you, sprawled sideways across the bed, looking for all the world as if he does this everyday. You wriggle out of your pants and throw yourself onto your back beside him.
There’s a hungry look on his face as he leans forward and runs one large, calloused hand up your thigh, parting your legs. Desperate for him, you lean back into the mattress, breath already coming hard and fast. “You’re so wet…” he says in awe as he reaches your panties and hesitates, his hand tantalizingly close.
“Of course I am,” you tell him. “It’s because I need you to touch me, Saeyoung.”
His eyes go wide.
“Teach me,” he whispers.
You rip your underwear off with one hand and he helps you, pulling it down your legs and over your feet with gentle hands. You catch his hand in your own and guide him up, between your thighs—separating out his long, flexible fingers, bringing the pad of his index finger to your swollen, needy clit.
“Like this,” you murmur, and you flick your own finger over yourself, hot and trembling, unable to repress a moan at finally getting some satisfaction. He watches you with thoughtful eyes and you can practically see the gears turning in that genius brain of his as he memorizes your movements.
Then he copies you, moving his finger softly against your clit—and it’s different when he does it, of course, his fingers nimbler, his skin rougher. He mimics your motions with absolute precision and you let your hand fall away, the mixture of pleasure and desperation and relief threatening to drown you.
He takes note of every response from you: the way you moan as he moves faster, the way your thighs clench around his hand as he experimentally makes a little circle with his fingertip.
“You are…amazing,” he says, and he’s gazing down at you in wonder, and—oh, he’s got a new toy to play with, you think groggily, your head swimming—he’s found another thing he can manipulate with his fingers, and that’s his speciality.
“Thank god for computers,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re saying, the room swimming around you as you forget to breathe.
“Thank god for…computers?” he asks, eyebrows knitted in confusion—but even as he speaks, his movements don’t slow, his finger flitting against you with the same precision and gentleness you’ve seen him apply to his keyboards, or the little cat robot.
You somehow manage to laugh through the blinding heat behind your eyes. “Because…” you gasp. “B-because you’re good at…computers…so you know how to…”
At that moment, he curls a finger inside of you, his eyes growing huge as he realizes he has another weapon at his disposal. You lose track of your words entirely, taken by surprise, stammering out his name as his index fingers continues its endless stimulation of your clit and his middle finger slides deeper inside you. 
Your toes curl. He bends over you and his teeth graze your neck where it’s already tender from his earlier attentions and the heat is blinding, blinding you, and you swear your body actually levitates, the cold, scratchy mattress disappearing entirely as the pleasure swells within you. You come violently, shaking, anchored to reality only by his fingers at your core.
You hear yourself gasping his name as if from outside yourself, and he rides it out with you, pushing you deeper and farther into the bright, hot recesses of your mind.
And slowly, the feeling fades: the mattress is firm and steady beneath you and you grasp clumsily for him, stilling his fingers with your own.
“Fuck,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “Fuck, Saeyoung.”
You try to focus on his face. He’s hovering over you and he looks adoring and thrilled and—proud.
“Am I amazing at that, or what?!” he sings, and you burst out laughing.
“You’re a genius, babe,” you tell him. You still feel a little woozy.
“I know I’m a genius,” he crows. “But who knew I was a sex genius?” He’s all energy now, bouncing on his heels, rocking the bed a little. You push yourself into a sitting position, giggling.
“God Seven, God Seven!” he’s chanting—so you do the only reasonable thing and tackle him, knocking him flat on his back, snaking your arms around his neck.
“There’s still something I wanna try with you, genius God Seven,” you purr into his ear, and his demeanor shifts almost immediately, a little shiver running through his body.
“Yeah?” he murmurs—and all his bravado is gone, and he gazes at you hungrily. You maneuver yourself so your hips are hovering just over his, and you can feel that he’s hardening again, his tip grazing your belly.
“Choi Saeyoung, for the love of god, please fuck me,” you say. He exhales sharply, grasping at your sides with both hands. “I’ve only been imagining it since the day I met you.”
“You have?” His voice is low and throaty and you grind your hips against him, pinning his cock between you. He’s totally hard now, and shivering, that dizzy look returning to his face—like he doesn’t quite know where is or how he got here.
“You have no idea,” he mutters. “But…hang on…I have—” He pushes you off him reluctantly, and you sit back on the bed.
He has…?
It dawns on you, and you watch in wonder as he slides from the bed, practically runs to his bag which he’s left beside the desk. You’re a little ashamed to admit that you hadn’t even thought of it.
He rummages around in the bag and you watch—he has, you think, an excellent butt. Triumphantly, he pulls a little roll of condoms from his bag; you smirk.
“Why do you have those?” you ask, trying to keep the laugher from your voice.
“Don’t…read anything into it, alright?” His face is flushed again as he returns to you, crawls back onto the bed. “I just…you know, need to be prepared. For things. As an…agent.”
“As an agent?” You lean back against the wall, legs long in front of you. You can see little finger-shaped marks already forming on your thighs and the sight alone makes your head spin.
“Yeah, it’s…y’know…safety?” he mumbles, coming to sit beside you. He rips off one of the little packets, tosses the rest aside. His face is still flushed and the dim light from the lamp casts shadows over his prominent collar bones and you just want to bite them.
“Saeyoung, how long have you had the condoms?” you ask.
“Not…long."
“So not like, years, right? Cause they expire, you know.”
He growls playfully and nips at your shoulder; you squeal. “Not years, silly. Like…days.”
Ah-ha. You’re a little relieved to know you’re not the only one who’s been obsessing over getting him naked for the last few days.
“So,” you say, voice low.
“So,” he says.
You turn and kiss the base of his neck and he hisses in pleasure. You trail kisses down his chest, over his belly, his hip. Up the length of his cock, holding it gently with one hand.
“G-go easy on me,” he groans, and you laugh. You reach for the packet and he hands it to you; you tear it open and ease the sticky plastic over his tip. You roll the condom onto him slowly, caressing him with both hands, bending to pepper little kisses around his base.
“Ready, baby?” you whisper, looking up at him. He meets your eyes with his own, dark and dizzy and dazed.
“I-I just wanna…” he mumbles. “Just wanna remind you that I have no idea what I’m doing…so…”
You put both hands on his chest and straddle him. 
“What happened to God Seven, sex genius?”
“He’s…still here, but I…ahh.” He moans as you position yourself over him, using a hand to guide him toward you entrance.
“I love you,” you tell him. And before he can answer, you slide onto him, slowly, gasping at the relief of finally feeling him inside you.
His hips stutter frantically against yours and you still him with a hand on his chest. His eyes are shut and his jaw is fixed, like he’s fighting desperately for control.
You wait for him to take a breath—and when he does, slowly, shakily, you start to move. You lift your hips and he moves with you, lower them and he follows you. You feel a sharp clenching inside you, a delightful explosion of sensations, as you fall into a rhythm together.
You moan and he reaches for you, grasping at your sides, your arms. He’s growing more confident now, rocking into you, and you clench around him, pulling him deeper.
His eyes fly open and you see something snap in him—do it, you think—and he does, using both hands to flip you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. His eyes scorch you as he slips back inside you, thrusting into you a little harder; you meet him halfway, lifting your hips, deepening the angle. He’s panting and you can tell he’s still trying to hold himself back and you want to tell him to let go, it’s okay, but there’s fog swimming in your brain and then a huge wave of feelings crashes over you, breaking around you before you know what’s happening. You come quickly and unexpectedly this time, rays of pleasure piercing your body as you lose control of the rhythm and fall to pieces beneath him.
And through the daze of pleasure you see his face shift as he gives in, lets go, thrusts into you faster and harder and with unbidden need—and so you throw your legs up around his waist and pull him into you. His eyes widen and then he comes, too, chasing you, rocking into you frantically, breathing hard through parted lips.
You come down together, trembling and panting, his beautiful faces inches from yours—and then he kisses you hard. You clench around him again and he whimpers.
“You just did that…on purpose,” he gasps.
“I did.”
He laughs a brand new laugh and this one, you think, is your favorite. He slides out of you and sits back, pulling off the condom with a hiss as his fingers brush the sensitive flesh.
“I don’t wanna be dramatic,” he says as he catches his breath. “But I think I just died and then was born again. So.” He giggles and you collapse against him, pressing a hot cheek to his chest. He wraps his arms around you.
“Do you think,” you murmur, “other agents have also done it in this bed?”
He squeezes you tight, still laughing. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“How could you not?”
He hums thoughtfully, combing his fingers through your knotted hair. “I kind of doubt it,”  he says. “Secret agents have way less sex than people think we do.”
“You don’t,” you say.
“One time,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into your hair. “I’ve now had sex one time.”
You twist to look up at him: there are curls falling messily over his forehead and his face is flushed and pink and so kissable. You crane your neck and kiss the underside of his jaw.
“I have this strong feeling that you’re gonna end up having a lot more sex,” you tell him. “Probably kind of soon.”
He cackles and dips his head and covers your face with kisses; you squeal as he flips you over onto your stomach, tossing your hair to the side and nibbling the back of your neck.
“…didn’t leave…enough evidence?” you pant, giggling, squirming.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that anymore,” he says, pinning you beneath him and licking the back of your ear.
“You’re not?”
“Nope!” he sings. “I am one hundred percent confident that I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.” His energy shifts as he kisses across your shoulder, down your back. His fingers drift to your sides, caressing you slowly, making you tremble. “I am never,” he whispers into your skin, “going anywhere without you.”
“Promise?” you pant, squirming as his kisses drift lower, lower.
“I promise,” he whispers, his lips burning your lower back, “that I won’t ever leave your side.”
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
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avatarmerida · 3 years ago
Text
Walking Home
This is inspired by @buggachat’s Bakery AU. I hope this is okay because I love this idea so much and I loved the winery arc. I wrote this assuming Adrien also lives at the bakery, though I don’t know.
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“Okay no, no first of all they did NOT kick us out because I spilled. But IF did they did then that’s your fault!” Marinette exclaimed as the four of them left the restaurant.
“I didn’t mean that time,” clarified a bubbly Adrien as he ran ahead. “I meant when you kept turning the glasses into microphones and trying to get everyone to sing when they were still pretty full.”
“No! No! No!” she insisted, running up to him and giving him a gently tap on shoulder. “It was because you kept making chicken noises and they were awful!”
“They were amazing.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever heard a chicken,” she said smugly as she attempted to suppress her laughter at the memory. “It was so high pitched.”
“Bawk bawk bawk,” said Adrien quietly. Seeing Marinette suppress more laughter, he kept going and got louder. She couldn’t stand still, the laughter causing her to bend in half unable to catch her breath. Making her laugh was somehow so addicting and so he kept doing the awful chicken noise, getting higher and louder and faster. Passerbys gave them strange looks and rolled their eyes. Alya couldn’t help but smile at the thought that everyone who saw them must assume they were lifelong friends. Maybe even more than that.
“Oh wow I didn’t realize how late it was,” announced Alya, pretending to check her phone. She was fairly certain the two forgot her and Nino were there. “Ugh, I’ve got an interview scheduled for the blog at 8am.”
“Yeah and I’ve got to wake her up otherwise she’ll never get there on time,” added Nino with a laugh, catching on quickly. Adrien and Marinette snapped out of their bubble, seeing suddenly how ridiculous they must seem.
“We should do this again soon though,” said Alya. “All of us,” she added, looking at Adrien.
“Yeah, this was fun,” said Marinette, sneaking a glance at Adrien (though he didn’t notice) before turning back to Alya. “Are you okay to get home?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna grab a taxi,” said Alya. “What about you two? Are you okay? You didn’t switch to water when Nino and I did.”
“That was water? I thought you guys just switched to white wine,” asked Adrien. Nino chuckled and handed Adrien his phone so the two could make plans to hang out later in the week.
While the boys talked, Alya pullled Marinette into a hug to supposedly say goodbye.
“No girl, for real are you okay to get home? We can drop you off,” she whispered.
“No it’s okay you guys live the opposite way and you need to get up early,” whispered Marinette back. “The bakery isn’t that far and It’s not like I’m walking alone.”
“Exactly,” said Alya, pulling away but making sure the boys were too distracted by their conversation to hear theirs. “I know tonight was fun but you didn’t start the day being Adrien’s biggest fan. You’re okay walking home with him?”
“Yes Alya I’m fine,” she hiccuped. “I’m not even that drunk.”
“Marinette!” Adrien called suddenly, very excited. “Can we make pizza at the bakery?!”
“Oh my god pizzaaaaaa!” She exclaimed far too loudly, throwing her hands in the air. “Yes, yes let’s go! Bye Alya!”
She ran ahead and Adrien excitedly and instinctively followed her, the two a collection of giggle and hiccups stumbling between the street lights.
“Text me when you get home!” Alya called after the pair. They were quite a sight. She couldn’t help but smile at the fact that this morning Marinette couldn’t say his name without grimacing and now they were rushing off into the night. She wondered how Marinette would feel about the blonde boy tomorrow.
“Pizza, pizza, pizza!” The two exclaimed as they trudged down the sidewalk.
“Okay I know we have dough and cheese I don’t know if we have any pizza sauce,” said Marinette raking her brain. “Do we want toppings? Because I think we just have sprinkles, maybe we-ahhh!” Suddenly the ground came rushing at her, but before she had time to process what was happening she was stopped inches from the pavement. She looked up and saw Adrien had caught her in the knick of time. His hands were on her waist as if he was dipping her in a some eleaborate dance. The streetlight above him reflected on his golden hair like a halo.
He really was a good model, she couldn’t help but think as she found herself drawn to his light like an innocent moth.
“Sorry,” he said realizing the position they were in. “Force of habit, I guess. I didn’t mean, I mean I-.”
“Don’t apologize,” she breathed, not attempting to remove herself from his grip. “You’ve just got like catlike reflexes.”
“Yeah, I maybe??” He laughed. He couldn’t even explain her own pun to her as he pulled her to her feet. “Hehe, uh sorry if I distracted you again.”
“No, no it’s my own fault, I’m extra clumsy when I’m drunk,” she explained, bashful suddenly for some reason. “I’m a regular public menace. But thanks for not letting me fall on my face.”
He smiled. “Anytime,” he stood up straight and offered her his arm. “To ensure you don’t fall again,” he explained.
The logic of his reasoning negated any objections her former view of him held at the ready. He didn’t have to be kind to her when it was just them, and this must be why she held onto his arm so firmly and allowed herself to be so close as they walked. She suddenly felt guilty for her ulterior motives in inviting him out. The skeptic in her wanted to point out that maybe he was faking being drunk, or was so well versed at deception that alcohol had no affect on his ability to lie. But a larger part of her just wanted to rest her head on his shoulder as he led her home, contently listening to him ramble.
“Okay but why isn’t pizza a pastry?” he continued. “Like a lot of baked goods have cheese, they all have dough. Is it the sauce? But donuts have filling and the tomato is a fruit, I think-?”
“Maybe pizza can be your menu speciality,” she murmured, following the voice that told her to rest her head. “But you can give it a fun name and make it look different so they won’t know it’s pizza until they taste it. You’d think of a good name, you’re funny.”
“I’m funny?” he asked, genuinely surprised and flattered.
“I’m drunk, who knows what I’m saying,” she joked. “I’ll deny it but yes you are funny. I like when you write puns on the specials board.”
“Really?” He chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be a fan of bad puns.”
“I’ve heard worse,” she murmured, her mouth moving faster than her mind. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Like what?” he tried, trying to careful in this new territory, but fighting his catlike curiosity . “Are you a secret comedian?”
“No, no but I was in love with a boy who made puns a lot,” she said quietly, almost just to herself. “It seems so silly but now whenever I hear a good one I write it down so I don’t forget. So I can tell it to him. But I’m never gonna see him again. That’s so stupid isn’t it?”
He saw tears forming in her eyes. “I think it’s sweet,” he said. “Is he someone you meet in New York? On your internship?”
She stopped, her mind had brought up another similarly between him and Chat Noir and that was extra confusing right now. But she hadn’t had anyone to talk to about Chat and it felt nice to share something about him aloud. She had to tread carefully though.
“I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk about it,” said Adrien before she could find the words. “It’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he continued, gently removing his arm from her. “You’ve already done so much for me, helping me at the bakery, letting me into your home, inviting me out tonight . You’re a very kind person Marinette and I’ve invaded so much of your space already, I shouldn’t be invading your privacy.”
“No, Adrien please it is okay,” she insisted. “I brought it up. And I... I’ve never brought it up to anyone before, to be honest. And it must be because... I like talking to you. Because-.”
“-of the wine?” He offered.
“-because we’re friends,” she finished, looking up at him with soft, truthful eyes.
“I think it is the wine,” he joked, only half certain.
“Here, I’ll prove it,” she said, keeping her purse and rummaging through its contents. Finally she found what she was searching for. “Here,” she said, placing something in his hand.
“What is this?”
“My lucky charm,” she said proudly, as he opened his hand to reveal a simple keychain composed of colorful beads. “I made it during my internship, it helped me when I had deadlines or a creativity block. I take it everywhere.”
“And you’re giving this to me?”
“Well I still plan on needing it and having it close by, so I wouldn’t just entrust it to someone I don’t want in my space would I? It’s probably not as flashy as the friendship bracelets Chloe made you but-.”
She was cut off as Adrien pulled her into a tight embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
She hesitated, but returned the gesture. “You’re welcome,” she said as the two stood in the middle of the sidewalk, embracing for probably a little too long. “Adrien, since we’re friends, I think I should be honest with you.”
He pulled back to face her, his face still holding a smile despite her dismal tone. “What is it?”
“Today, when I invited you...” she began, her pride almost too big a pill to swallow. “Well, I had ulterior motives for inviting you.”
“Really?”
“I thought, oh god I’m so embarrassed,” she pushed through. “I though you had ... a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Yes,” she buried her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed. “Ugh, and I thought it you got drunk enough you would blurt it out. And that’s so awful of me and I know it’s dishonest, but I promise you it’s not like that anymore. I was paranoid, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m so sorry. really do enjoy spending time with you-.”
“What kind of secret?”
“Huh?” She said, surprised he wasn’t mad. “Oh, i-it doesn’t matter. It was still wrong of me.”
“Well why couldn’t you ask me about it before?”
“I didn’t have any sort of proof,” she admitted. “Only a hunch.”
“Why?” He asked. He wasn’t mad but she couldn’t place his tone. People must have accused him of this before. She knew now he wasn’t his father, he was more than whatever his past held, and he didn’t deserve another faker. She knew he’d ask what she suspected and it would ruin everything but maybe she could make it less awful if she kept apologizing?
“Nothing major, just because of how you acted around me-.”
“I see.”
“-but I know now I was completely wrong,” she quickly went on. “Getting to know you tonight and spending more time with you at the bakery, I know I was wrong.”
“Oh,” was that all he could say? Oh?!
“Because you’re just so nice!” She went on, her drunk brain turning to rambling. “You’re actually a really great guy, and you’re just quiet at first, you’re ... a friend...”
“Just a friend?” He asked, the word holding his attention tight.
“Yes,” she said, hoping he was considering accepting her apology. “And I- oh darn it.” Suddenly, a raindrop fell onto Marinette’s cheek. Then another. Without warning the sky began to pour, and the pair sought shelter. Adrien took off his jacket and placed it over Marinette’s head to attempt and shield her from the rain, a fruitless attempt as the jacket immediately became soaked and heavy and helpful to no one.
As they made their way through the waterfall that claimed the sidewalk, an abandoned umbrella leaning against a building caught Adrien’s eye. He swooped in to grab and quickly opened it over Marinette’s head. “Ugh, I can’t see,” she cried, the rain causing her eye makeup to run and sting her eyes. She wiped it away, only to smudge it and give cover her face with a charcoal color. Adrien laughed.
“Mademoiselle Hamster, you look more like a raccoon now,” he wheezed. Before Marinette could offer a clever response, she saw the rain continued to fall on him as she was safely covered.
“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” she stated angrily.
“It’s not a very big umbrella,” he said, still laughing.
“Nonsense,” she said, yanking the umbrella handle to spin him in. “I’m not about to let you get sick and stick me with all the work at the bakery.”
But the umbrella was very small. And in order for them both to be covered, they had to stand very close together.
“Fine by me,” breathed Adrien, looking down at Marinette. She stood in front of him, her hands landing instinctively on his chest as if they were slow dancing. She was aware of this, but did not remove them. Her eyes went to the ground, not being about to handle the closeness with eye contact. In one hand Adrien held the umbrella, the other one slowly went to removed a strand of wet hair from her face. A bolt of lighting graced the sky.
“You were right you know,” he said quietly, the rain almost drowning him out.
“About what?”
“About my secret,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought I hid it well, but I guess I made it really obvious.”
“What?” Said Marinette, looking up at him is disbelief, her hands trembled. “No, no you’re still drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. No, no I know now... after everything that happened it can’t be true.”
“Do you... not want it to be true?”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter what I want,” she admitted, bowing her head again. “Either it’s true or it’s not.”
“I promise you, it’s very true,” said Adrien, his voice softer than she had ever heard but somehow insanely familiar. He placed his free hand under her chin and lead her to meet his gaze.
“Wait, what did you think I-.”
“Marinette, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more direct with you,” he began. “But I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again since... you’re so amazing and I- I’m done keeping secrets; I do have feelings for you.”
“W-what kind of feelings?” she asked, a tiny portion of her intoxicated little mind convinced he was angry with her.
Adrien closed his eyes and leaned in close to her and his lips stopped mere inches from her own. Hesitating. Waiting. Silence. She looked at him, no streetlight caught his hair now but the shine remained. The glow was just him. He wasn’t a spy, he wasn’t a traitor, he wasn’t a villain. Her mind ran with things he was not until suddenly she realized what he was. Kind. Handsome. Funny. Charming. She had taken these things for granted before and thought they were lost and locked away forever. It was like they were reincarnated, her heart fluttered in an nearly forgotten familiar way as if to say she had been here before. As if to say this is exactly where she was meant to be.
Lighting crashed in the distance.
She chased the feeling and eliminated the space between them, drawn to him like he was magnetic. She could could blame it on the wine. She could blame it on the rain. She could blame it on the way his eyes were so gentle and vibrant at the same time like a lush green forest she wanted to explore until she was hopelessly lost. But she crashed into him like a she was a tidal wave, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. He stepped back, surprised but pleased and tossed aside the umbrella in favor of having both his arms around her as he eagerly kissed her back. He lifted her off the ground, perhaps a little too overzealous, and the pair found themselves on the ground in the middle of a puddle. Only then did they break apart, like a dream they were rudely awakened from, and Marinette found herself laying on top of him.
Adrien looked at her, eyes wide and curious, awaiting a sign of how she felt. Even now, with her eyeliner smudged and her hair soaking wet, his heart skipped a beat in way it hadn’t done in years. What was she thinking? Should he say something? His mind raced with what to say next, he had imagined this confession thousands of times since he realized his feelings, but none of his scenarios went quite like this. He didn’t want to risk ruining anything, if there was even something to ruin. He played the last minute over and over in his head like a romantic film scene. He smiled a wide smile and if Marintee didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he was purring.
Marinette took that as her signal to lean forward, slower and more graceful than the first attempt and kissed him again. It was less rushed and more gentle, but also more certain. The umbrella was carried away by the wind, the two seemed to have forgotten about the rain or any storms between them.
The next day, Marinette awoke feeling sicker than she had ever felt in her life. Not only did she have a massive hangover, but being stuck in the rain had given her a terrible cold as well. Her body couldn’t decide which unpleasant feeling to focus on so she remained in bed, cursing the world.
“Hey girl,” came Alya’s voice from the doorway. “Heard you weren’t feeling too good.”
“Alya I’m dying,” moaned Marinette.
“Were you so busy dying that you couldn’t text me that you go home safely?” laughed Alya, removing the pillow from her face. “Omigosh you didn’t even wash your face last night. You really were trashed.”
“Ugh I don’t even remember it raining last night, but I woke up soaked,” complained Marinette.
“Wait, you don’t remember it raining?”
“No, after we said goodbye to you and Nino the night it a total blur.”
“Oh, does Adrien remember the rain?”
“I don’t know, we don’t talk,” Marinette reminded her, covering her head with a blanket. “I don’t know what I said to him on the walk home, but my throat is killing me so it feels like I was yelling.
“Wait, you don’t remember anything from the walk home?”
“No,” repeated Marinette. “Why? Did I drunk dial you or something?”
“Uh, no,” said Alya with a mischievous smile. “But when it started to rain I told the cab driver to drive by your place to see if you guys got caught in the rain and I’m so glad I did because I saw something very interesting.”
“What?”
Alya simply handed Marinette her phone and braced herself for the reaction she knew was coming. Marinettte had to do a double take at first. But there was no mistaking this was a picture of her. And Adrien. Kissing.
“WHAT?!” She exclaimed, giving herself a worse headache. “Ouch. Ugh, Alya please tell me this is photoshopped, this is a joke right?”
“Not this time, I am an eyewitness,” assured her friend. “I saw everything.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe he kissed me,”
“Well you shouldn’t because if you go back a little bit you see it’s clear as day who kissed whom,”
“What?” But it was true. She swiped back and forth and there was no arguing that she pulled him in, she reached up, she kissed him. Twice. “Oh no.”
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” said Alya taking back her phone. “If kissing a former model in the rain is the worst thing you’ve done after drinking, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t see why you don’t like him anyway, you two got along so well yesterday.”
“Oh no no no I just thought it was another dream!”panicked Marinette.
“Another?” Teased Alya. “So you often dream about kissing Adrien?”
Only when he’s working with his supervillain father “I’m never drinking again,” vowed Marinette, burying her head in her hands. “Please tell me no one else saw those photos.”
“Just me and Nino, but I’m keeping them for blackmail,” confirmed Alya as she headed for the door. “Or to show at your wedding.”
Marinette threw a pillow at the door, just missing her friend as she took her leave. What had gotten into her? Besides copious amounts of wine, that is. She prayed that Adrien’s memory of last night was even foggier than hers. She wished she had Tikki with her to talk her through this without any judgment but she just had her. And all she could do was panic.
“Hey, are you up?” Came a small voice accompanied by a knock on her door. “I just saw Alya leave and I wanted to check on you if that’s okay.”
It was Adrien. “Um yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess,” she replied. He didn’t come in, she didn’t invite him. He was still wary of her. That must be as good sign, right?
“A headache?” He chuckled knowingly. “I had one too. I made a smoothie and that kind of helped. I can bring you one. Or leave it in the kitchen for you.”
“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. Silence stood between them for what felt like hours.
“Listen, about last night,” Adrien said at last. Marinette braced herself for the worst.
“Yeah?”
“I wanted to say thank you,” he said outside the door. “It meant a lot, you guys inviting me out. I had a lot of fun, well the parts I remember anyway.”
“Do you... remember walking home?”
“Hardly,” he admitted. “Apparently it rained?”
She laughed. “Go figure,” she said. She cousins sent he was right: she did enjoy the parts she remembered. “But um thank you too for helping me get home safely. You’re a good friend.”
The sound of the word made him blush, he was grateful she couldn’t see his face. “Anytime,” he said. “Feel better, I guess I’ll see you later?”
“See ya,” she said, as she heard him walk away from the door and flopped on her bed in relief. Crisis averted.
Adrien made his way down the stairs, Marinette’s keychain in hand. The moments of last night replayed in his head. It was blurry to him as well, but a few moments stood out to him. Mostly, the way she said ‘lucky charm’ and the way her smudged makeup resembled a mask.
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xoxo-denver-xoxo · 4 years ago
Note
Hello! :) I'm sorry if you got this request from someone else already, but could ya please write a continuation from the Sally face x male jock reader? I really Loved the first one ya made! If you don't wanna do it that's totally fine, ya can just go ahead and ignore this lol (also sorry for the bad grammar, english isn't my first language-)
AUTHOR NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you wanted but I thought it was kinda cute. 🥲
Sᴀʟʟʏ Fᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ Jᴏᴄᴋ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Tʜᴀᴛ Pʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛs Hɪᴍ Fʀᴏᴍ Tʀᴀᴠɪs
𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜, 𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 (𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝)
You had been hanging out with the group for a little while and you all got to know each other better. But out of the entire group, you were definitely closest with Sal. It wasn't too long before you guys began telling each other basically everything. He told you about what happened to his face and you told him about parents' divorce. Of course, you avoid talking about your mom as to not upset him.
Today, was a bit.... strange as Sal noticed. You were almost avoiding the group and you seemed out of it during football practice. The day ended and the group decided it would be best to approach you while you were walking out of the building.
"Hey, dude. How are ya?" Larry questioned as you all walked together.
"Fine," was your blank response. You never acted like this; if something was bothering you, you would give a straight forward answer. Never a "fine".
"You don't really sound fine, (Y/N)," Ashley stated in a worried tone. "I said I was fine, get off of my back," you sneered. But Sal saw through all the bullshit, the way you wouldn't look at them and the way you were walking. You only acted this way when you were trying to push people out. It was a defense mechanism that both you and Larry used.
"Guys, let's let him be for now. It's probably something personal," Sal spoke. Everyone stopped questioning you and began talking about random things. Sal could get it out of you. He was sure of it.
Around the normal spot where you guys would split offto head to your different houses, Sal had asked you to come spend some time with him. It took a bit of convincing but you agreed in the end. You could never say no to him. He always knew how to convince you to do something or go somewhere, he had a way with words.
"So.... what happened?" Sal asked once you were both in his room. He was concerned for you, you were tough to break down. He never saw you upset at anyone or anything except Travis. And Travis could never put you in such a sour mood. You sighed and pushed you hair back with your hand. "I-- Why do people get married if they hate each other?" you started off. Sal wanted to answer, he really did, but he didn't know. He gave an 'I don't know' and you continued. "I go to court in 3 days to decide which one of my parents I want to live with, and I don't want to choose. They both suck equally. They decided to give birth to a son they didn't want because they thought it'd fix their crumbling marriage, and yet it only made it worse."
Sal had nothing to say. He could only motion for you to come over and hug you. He told you that everything will be okay, he was there, etc etc.. He didn't have anything else to tell you. He had no idea what to say. But it helped. You huffed and wrapped your arms around him.
"I love you, Sal," you mumbled into his shoulder after a little bit. Sal tensed and he was kinda happy fir the mask that blocked his bright red face.
"I love you too."
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