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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 5 months ago

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"tea" - emily prentiss x fem!liasion!reader

summary: you make a cup of tea to help you sleep

wc: 1.2k

cw: none, really? mostly fluff, & just emily being the best girlfriend ever

a/n: i'm in an emily phase rn and i'm not responsible for the fics i write ok ly all bad

A teal, ceramic mug with I <3 MYRTLE BEACH carved into it is cradled between both your hands as you lean against the kitchen counter. Your sleepovers at Emily’s apartment have become more and more frequent these days, which is lucky for you, really, because now you have a drawer where you can keep your comfortable, printed pajama sets. The set you have on tonight is blue, decorated with cartoon puppies. The shorts ride up your ass a little as you lean against the counter, but it’s no matter to you. Not right now, not when you’re the only one awake.

Or so you thought.

Emily’s steps are akin to that of a kitten as she pads into the kitchen. Her ivory skin is the first thing you see, standing out in contrast of her dimly lit apartment. Then her dark hair, pulled up in a chaotic bun on the top of her head, leaning a little to the left because she always sleeps on her side.

“Shit, Em, did the kettle wake you?” You grimace as she treads softly towards you. Her eyes squint to adjust to the light you have on over the range, and she reaches a closed fist out to chuck your chin playfully on her way to the refrigerator.

“It’s alright,” she says, her voice like sandpaper compared to the usual velveteen you hear all day long. She must have been deep asleep, then. You feel a pang of guilt tug at your heart as you take a long sip of your tea. Emily grabs a handful of green grapes from the bowl in the fridge, popping one into her mouth. She glides to stand against the kitchen island, opposite a small stretch of linoleum from you. “You’re having trouble falling asleep again?”

You shrug a little, trying to be nonchalant about it, but the truth is, you’ve been unable to fall asleep for a few weeks now. You chalk it up to a bad case about a month ago - unfortunately, both the unsub and their latest victim didn’t make it. You’ve had cases that didn’t end well before, but this victim was a young girl and you can’t help the way this one lingers in the back of your mind, like a bad aftertaste.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, baby,” Emily says before crunching down on a grape, the last one in her hand. You set your tea down on the counter beside you and cross the linoleum street that separates you and your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her satin pajamas tickle your cheek as you press your forehead into the crook of her shoulder.

You cling to her like a koala and Emily just keeps her hands on your waist, holding you closely as you embrace her. She smells like jasmine and vanilla, and you almost want to chastise her because you know that means she stole your perfume.

“My head just feels very full these days,” you sigh after a few moments, pulling away. Emily uses her hold on your hips to guide your back against the kitchen island. You hoist yourself up onto it and Emily moves to stand between your legs.

“It’s that Oregon case, isn’t it?” she asks, tucking your hair behind your ear with one hand, the other palm resting flat on your thigh.

“How’d you know?” you ask, an eyebrow quirking upward.

“You asked Reid to help you finish your report on it,” Emily begins. “Two out of three cases since then have revolved around young girls, like you’re overcompensating, and Derek told me he saw you zoning out by the coffee machine while Anderson and JJ were discussing the case.”

You feel pink rush to your cheeks. All of Emily’s evidence is factual, much as it pains you to admit. “Is that all?” you deadpan, feeling a little sheepish. You also want to lay into your coworkers for being such tattletales. As the Communications Liaison, you generally maintain a well-rounded, professional disposition, but you suppose even your attitude at work has been lacking recently.

“And, y’know, the gut feeling,” Emily adds. “You’ve been a little slower getting ready for work, almost like you’re dreading it.”

“We agreed, no more profiling at home,” you remind her. She runs her thumb over the dimple in your chin.

“It’s not profiling, it’s knowing my girlfriend,” Emily bites back with a compassionate sincerity that makes you want to eat her alive. How did you get so lucky? “You’re usually dragging me out of bed in the mornings, not the other way around.”

You rake your fingers through her hair, meeting her dark eyes in the soft, dim light of the kitchen. This is as romantic a backdrop as any, in your opinion - lovelier than Paris, Rome, and London combined. You’ve always heard that to be loved is to be known, and boy, does Emily know you.

“Well, I’m sorry for waking you up,” you concede in a slight change of subject, tracing your thumb across her hairline. “D’you want some tea? It’s that herbal stuff for sleep that Penelope recommended.”

Emily shakes her head, kissing your jaw gently, then your cheek, finally your lips. It’s brief but it carries so many words. “No, thank you,” she says in a whisper, then steps back, grabs your cup from the other counter, and hands it to you.

You take a drink, the warmth seeping in through your nostrils. “Do you love Myrtle Beach, Em?” you ask with a small laugh as you examine the mug in your hands. It’s obviously handmade, with the splotches of teal paint and weird lumps - and the lack of a handle.

Emily just laughs, turning around and hoisting herself up onto the countertop beside you. You eye her smooth legs sticking out of those black, satin pajama shorts, and, uncontrollably, you set your mug down and place a hand over her thigh. “I’ve actually never been to Myrtle Beach,” she says. “I bought that at a thrift store.”

“So, you buy designer pajama sets off the rack, but you shop for your mugs secondhand?” you chortle a little, drawing circles into the sliver of pearly white thigh peeking out from her shorts.

“Yep,” Emily confirms, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word and shooting you a sideways smirk. “I like some things luxurious, but other things with lots of personality.”

“And which one am I?” you ask all-knowingly, leaning a little closer so your mouth was mere centimeters for hers.

“Oh, c’mon, now, you know you’re both.” Emily teases, then kisses you softly.

You smile into the kiss, one hand curving against the smooth angle of her jaw to keep her face by yours for just a moment longer. “I really am sorry I woke you up,” you whisper as you pull away.

“Don’t be,” Emily insists, resting her forehead against yours. “If it comes down to staring at the ceiling all night or waking me up by making tea, just wake me up. Okay?”

You start to pull back, but Emily’s hand cups your cheek to keep your eyes on hers. “Okay?” she repeats.

You nod. “Mhm. Okay, Em.”

“Good, sweet, lovely girl,” Emily murmurs, pecking your lips once more before hopping off the counter. She offers you a hand to help you down. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds fic #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

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gingernut1314 · 6 months ago

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Touch Me, Please pt. 1

Polnareff x GN!Reader

Summary: How Part 3 Polnareff likes to be touched

Warnings: FLUFFFFFFFFFFF, jjba part 3

Word Count: HC: 910+, Drabbles: 370+ & 510+, Total: 1.8K

A/N: soo...have I mentioned I'm head over heels for this man? No. Okay. I love him. Some of this came from a convo I had with the amazing @cinnbar-bun who was also the lovely soul who introduced me to this show and my newest husband. Let's all give her a round of applause because I absolutely love this show 👏👏👏 First time writing for Polnareff so I did my best and I hope you enjoy! 🩷 (Also I plan on this being a bit of a series so look out for that)

↞ to Touch Me Masterlist | Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠ Part 2

TOUCH THIS MAN!

PLEASE

He needs it

He needs touch like he needs the air to breathe

He’ll turn into literal puddy in your hand if you do

Brush your fingers over his when handing him food

Pat his cheek, arm, shoulder, back

Brush your shoulder against his as you walk side by side

HOLD HIS HAND

PLEASE HOLD HIS HAND

I’m not asking I’m telling you to hold his hand or else this man will become the saddest puddle you’ve ever seen

And all of this is just your average day being friends with Polnareff

Once you two become an item he becomes like a baby koala he’s so clingy

He always needs a hand on you

Some sort of skin-on-skin

He still doesn’t fully believe you want to be his partner let alone let him touch you

So whether it be his hand holding your own or his thigh pressed against yours as you two eat he needs to touch you

Would 100% be the type of partner to hug you from behind while waiting in any sort of line

Would 100% want to follow you into the bathroom just so that he could keep holding your hand (and has definitely done so in the past)

Is honestly so terrified when you two have to go your separate ways for such things as going to the bathroom

Not only because he’s had less than pleasant experiences with those spaces thanks to enemy Stand Users

But because he is so utterly terrified that if he lets you go, you’ll disappear

He’s dealt with enough heartbreak to last him two lifetimes so the thought of losing you is utter hell

He just needs to feel you to reassure himself you are still with him

Still with him and still breathing

Will press his ear over your heart sometimes to listen to your heartbeat

You struggled to unlock the hotel room door thanks to the multitude of food bags cradled in your arms. Somehow you had managed to pull the room key from your back pocket but now your grapple with unlocking the door and turning the handle without dropping the food was threatening your will. The key slid into the lock, pulling a bright laughing cheer from your lips at finally starting to win the battle set before. You grabbed for the handle of the door just as it turned, the door yanking open in a rush of air. “Oh--” You said, taking a small step as you took back at the tall body that now stood in the entrance. Polnareff’s familiar face had your body easing and smile tugging bright once more at your lips. “Good morn--” You never got to finish your sentences before Polnareff’s strong arms were wrapping around your body, crushing you and the food against his chest. “I woke up and you weren’t there and the others were gone as well and--and I--” Polnareff panicked into your neck, nuzzling his face against your skin as a shuddering breath shook his body. His hold tightened further as if to keep you glued to him. The sound of a plastic container crunching filled your ears, letting you know the food you had fought to keep from falling was getting crushed within his embrace. You’re heart twisted in your chest at his utterly panicked state, the food’s destruction far from your mind as you all but dropped the bags. Your hands and arms were instantly wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing soothing circles into his skin. “Mon amour, I-I didn’t know where you were.” He said in a voice smaller than that of a whisper. “I thought I would be back before you woke up. I told the others to be here if you did but--forgive me. I should have taken you with me.” You whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I--Love, what do you need?” You asked, wanting the panic to leave him and for that goofy smile to return to his lips. “Just…touch me…please.” It was a request you were more than happy to fulfill, pulling him ever closer into your hold.

If you ever need space, Polnareff is more than happy to give it to you

But that sad puddle he became when you went a whole minute without touching him while just being friends becomes an oh-so-sad ocean

The rest of the Crusaders are going to be teasing the hell out of the guy for being such a gloomy, near-sobbing mess

And speaking of the other Crusaders

They cannot stand how touchy you two are

The phrase “get a room”, among other things, is almost always spilling from their lips

Oh boy and talking about lips

KISS THIS MAN

KISS HIM, PLEASE, I BEG THIS OF YOU

Give him soft kisses

Kiss him on his blushing cheeks, forehead, nose, ears, shoulders

Pepper this man in kisses

And he is kissing you right back

Taking your hands in his and pressing kisses to your knuckles

He’s kissing the inside of your wrist as you sit on the train or at dinner

Kissing the top of your head as you walk

Just kisses everywhere, all the time

He likes to talk to you while his lips are touching your skin

Likes it even more if he can whisper sweet nothings in French against your own lips

You happily hummed as you ate, the soft, classical music floating through the bustling restaurant not the tune you had chosen to muse as spectacular spices and flavors brust over your tongue. A warm thumb brushed at the side of your mouth, clearing a bit of sauce from your skin. Your face began to feel warm at the touch, knowing exactly whose thumb had swiped over your skin. You turned, finding Polnareff’s gray eyes already watching you. Eyes so full of loving adoration it took your breath away every time you looked into them. “Did you get it all?” Your voice sounding near breathless as you took in his handsome, which a bright smile adorned. Polnareff hummed in mock thought, taking your chin between his fingers. He turned your face this way and that, searching for a mess that you knew was nowhere to be found. “Ah! There is some just there.” He said, guiding your face ever closer. “Are you going to get it for me?” You asked, lips parting as your face was drawn closer to his. “Of course, mon coeur.” He all but purred, turning that warmth into a burning fire. Your heart raced as he leaned into you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. He hardly pulled away before you were grabbing hold of his shirt, keeping him close. “I--I think I feel some more. Just here.” You said, voice wobbling as you tapped your other cheek. Polnareff widely grinned, more than eager to place a chaste kiss to your other cheek. “And here.” You breathed, tapping your lips. A chuckle left Polnareff’s chest that grew muffled against your lips. He kissed you sweetly. So sweet it had your heart melting and your stomach fluttering around like it had grown wings like some butterfly. “Good grief.” The gruff voice of Jotaro grumbled from across the table where he sat. “Mr. Joestar,” Kakyoin huffed, his typically smooth voice laced in utter disgust at you and Polnareff’s actions. “Please make them stop.” “Me? Stop them?” The oldest Joestar all but shouted from where he sat at your side. Kakyoin must have nodded because Joseph gave a huffing grumble of his own. “Alright, you two. Knock it off. This place is nice--and in public.” He tried, to no avail. You both ignored the group, lips pulling away only so you could pepper Polnareff’s face in kisses he was more than happy to return. Whispered Mon amours, mon coeurs, among other loving titles pressed into your skin making it tingle in delight. “Eh--see. They won’t listen to me.” Joseph huffed. “I do not believe there is a power on this earth or in the heavens above that is strong enough to keep them apart.” The calm voice was Advol spoke from Polnareff’s side, a light chuckle in his voice. A giggle escaped your lips at his words, nuzzling your nose against Polnareff’s. They were words you couldn’t help but full-heartedly believe as Polnareff cupped your jaw in his strong hand, kissing your lips like it was the last time he would ever taste them again.

If he’s driving the group, you better believe you're sitting shotgun so he can place a hand on your thigh, giving it gentle squeezes to remind you he’s always thinking about you

If Joseph is insistent about sitting in the front, Polnareff either refuses to drive outright or is reaching into the back to hold your hand much to Jotaro and Kakyoin’s displeasure

Will reach over one of the others to touch you

Has and will lead to a shouting match between Polnareff and the others

But he refuses to be so close to you yet so so far

He’ll even go as far as to send Silver Chariot to sit with you and hold your hand if he can’t be there with you

Though this has led to one too many Star Platinum beatdowns

CUDDLE THE MAN

Oh my goodness PLEASE cuddle him

He’s so warm and his arms are so safe

Only one bed?

No trouble whatsoever!

Polnareff wasn’t going to sleep without you anyway

Only a few rooms left?

Polnareff and you have been deemed your own room because the others will not deal with your touchiness while trying to sleep mere inches away

Polnareff’s cuddle could save a life

It’s a fact

His fingers are rubbing circles into your back or arm

His face buried in the crook of your neck so he could take in your scent and dream of you while he sleeps

Whether it be a hug from the front or back, he has his arms around you while you sleep

His legs intertwining between yours, molding himself against you

He literally worships the ground you walk on so why wouldn’t he just want to become another extension of your being?

The only thing he won’t always want touched is his hair

He spent nearly an hour that morning in the dimly lit hotel bathroom getting it just right

And he loves you

GOD he loves you

He loves you so much it hurts

But his hair is off-limits until you both are settling in for the night

Then he is more than happy to let you run your fingers through his hair

He also won’t be completely opposed to you helping him style his hair in the morning, but you’ll need to go through several days of “training” before you can even touch one of his combs

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silentglassbreak · 4 months ago

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delulu fan fantasy, not even my delulu.. just looking over bad omens photos and home country thoughts lol

Any name, any description lol but the boys never guy koala shots when they were in Australia last time.. soo so a scenario where they return an it involves some sort of trip to an animal rescue of some kind? OR some thing... and Noah having to lean down so the handler can help him DE-CLING the koala from his arms and shoulder, their claws can get you, the guys all joking about his new girlfriend maybe... but he'd rather the handler... -- up to you if you go on to make it smutty after the cute meet, maybe invite for drinks.. OR just an intense flirt... but...

Yep... koala flirting delulu lol, sorry, for, the ramble.

Fully understand if this is a no can do, I know specific place requests can be difficult, but I thought there was no harm in asking, thank you for reading just the same.

The amount of research I just did on Koalas is wild 🤣 I’m hoping this does your ask some justice!

After Writing Notes: This was cute, and fun to write. It's shorter than some of my others, and truly just fluffy, early stages, flirtations. I enjoyed this! I hope you do too!

Rating: Mature (language)

Warnings: Nuffin but good ol' fashioned fluff.

Please Please Please

“Now, let’s see if the little man likes you or not, shall we?”

Mira, our veteran Koala, who was used to our regular visitation schedule was lazily clung to my shirt, as she was most days. Her jaws crunched on a Eucalyptus leaf, not minding all of the sweet attention she was getting. The bright-eyed boy standing in front of me beamed at her, but I could tell he was nervous.

“Alright, now we’re going to just gently place her on your chest, and if she likes you, she’ll cling!” I carefully handed Mira over to the boy, no older than twelve, who shakily held her up. Mira’s claws grabbed onto his shirt, and she tucked her head into his neck lovingly.

She truly was a great performer.

“Oh my God, she’s holding me!” He exclaimed, excited, but still hushed as not to startle her.

“Look at that, mate! She’s very loving, isn’t she?” I held up another leaf in front of her, one of her small hands latching on and holding it up to her mouth.

The mother of the young boy looked absolutely horrified. “How long does he hold her for?”

“Ah, just a minute or two. I’ve got a few other folks waiting to get to say hello.” I stuffed my hands in my pants pockets, smiling while watching Mira tickle the young man’s neck with her ear hairs.

“Are all Koalas this friendly?” He asked as his hand gently stroked the plush hair on her back.

“Actually, no. Koalas can be quite territorial, especially around their young. They bite and scratch just like any other beast you’d come across.” I could see his mom beginning to sweat. “Mira here is very accustomed to human beings. She’s one of our rehabilitated patients who was not eligible for release.”

“Why not?” The worrisome woman eyed me.

“Poor thing got caught in the wildfires a few years ago, and she’s almost completely blind now due to the smoke. She’d never survive in the wild.” I placed a hand on her head, smiling sweetly at her. “So, instead, she’s our designated education Koala!”

The boy smiled, and moved toward me to begin removing her from his chest. “I think she’s amazing.”

“That, she is.” I graciously took my girl, and turned to place her back on her tree. I could tell she was in need of a bit of a break.

Noticing more patrons had not arrived quite yet for their experiences, I closed the door behind my guests of the enclosure, and set up a ‘Be Back in 30’ sign.

Once in the break room, I sat at the table, running fingers through my hair that was tangled where it ended on the back of my neck. Kylie, who had been working the python exhibit all morning, came bounding in, sitting next to me heavily.

“Eh, Charlie. You alright?”

I was chewing the end of a peanut butter sandwich and zoning out, trying not to let my mind wander too far.

“Good here. You?”

She smiled empathetically. “That’s not convincing, babe. Still thinking about him?”

Shrugging hard, I set my sandwich back down and put my face in my palms. “Why would he ghost me?” I sighed, feeling defeated. “I really thought we were getting on, ya know?”

Placing a hand on my back, she smiled sweetly at me. “I’m sure you were! Some guys are just fucking useless! He probably did you a favor, really.”

I laid my chin down on my hands on the table. “Maybe. It still blows. I feel like dating is just pointless these days.”

Kylie laughed at that. “Nah, not true.” Sitting back in her chair, she reached to interlock her hands behind her head. “Remember that Roy guy I went out with a few weeks back?” I just nodded. “Best lay I’ve had, hands down.”

My eyes blew out wide before my stomach began rolling with laughter. She joined me, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t give up on dating, babe. There’s a guy out there for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, not likely.”

The day was passing so slow, it almost made my eyes roll back. By the time my watch told me it was close to the end, only half hour till, I was exhausted. So was Mira. My eyes scanned the passers by, wondering how many I’d be able to fit in before the end of the day, as I saw a group of guys reading the information plaque on the glass just outside.

One of the guys, a lanky boy with tattoos shadowing the length of his arms, was the only one of them looking into the exhibit, instead of at the description. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say he was looking at me.

That couldn’t be right, though. I was holding Mira, so he was probably looking at her.

“Excuse me?” One of them had broken off from the pack and stepped inside the door. “It says on there to come in to see the Koalas?”

He was a shorter gentleman with long, black hair tied back in a bun on the back of his head. I noticed his accent, and internally groaned. Americans.

“Yeah!” I smiled at him brightly. “Come on in!”

He motioned for his friends, the other three trailing behind. The last one to come in was the tall guy with hair only slightly shorter than mine. His eyes wandered around the trees and the pond behind me.

“Oh my gosh!” The shortest one was grinning ear to ear, staring directly at Mira. “They’re so cute!”

I looked down at the gray baby on my chest, and pet her lovingly. “They are. They’re my favorite creatures here at the preserve.”

“Do they bite?” A taller man, who had a slightly different accent that I couldn’t place, asked.

“They sure can.” I nodded, and waved a hand. “But Mira here never has. She’s an absolute gem.”

Looking between them all, I noticed they were all wearing various band t-shirts, with the exception of our large friend, who only wore a black beater. He stood the most reserved, hands in his pockets.

“Anyone want to hold her?”

“Serious?!” The shortest bloke perked up first, stepping toward me cautiously. “Can I, please?”

I chuckled. “Of course! I’ll hand her to you,” I began peeling Mira from me. “and if she latches, she likes you!”

Almost vibrating with excitement, the man took her gently, and Mira wrapped her short arms around his neck, seeming to take to him exceptionally.

“Excellent!” I clapped. “You’re a natural!”

He smiled brightly at his friends. “Check it out, guys!” They all took turns looking at Mira up close, a couple reaching out to touch her head.

“You want a photo?” I asked and the tallest one nodded, slipping a cell out of his pocket and handing it to me.

The four boys posed, all smiling and wrapping arms around each other.

“Alright, one…two…three.” I snapped a picture, but noticed a couple of them blinking. I pursed my lips. “Let me get a few, alright?”

They nodded and held their spots. As I was preparing to snap another, I saw a look of panic flash over the boy holding Mira.

“She’s letting go! I don’t want to drop her!”

“Oh!” Instinctively, I slipped the mobile into my vest pocket and reached out to grab Mira.

For whatever reason, she had become startled, and wanted out of the grip. It had been a long day, and she was likely over all of the attention. When I pulled her from the guy’s arms, her nails scratched across the side of his neck.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed, holding a hand up. All of his friends were looking at him.

“I’m so sorry about that, mate! It’s been quite the day for our girl here.” He moved his hand and was bleeding ever so slightly.

Seemingly rebounded, he shook his head and grinned at me. “No, I totally get it. I appreciate her letting me hold her at all.”

I set Mira on her tree, plucking her a leaf and handing it to her before turning back to the bunch. “There’s a med room on your way out the exit. They can give you a swab to clean that with.” I smiled apologetically at them.

“Thanks again…Charlie?” The boy checked my name tag. I nodded. He stuck his hand out for me to shake. “I’m Nick.”

I nodded. “Pleasure to meet you guys.”

They filed out one by one, giving small waves. The tall boy’s eyes carried mine just a little longer than the rest, and it gave me a warm feeling in my stomach.

What a cutie.

“So how’d the rest of the day go, Char?”

Unpinning my tag and putting it in my locker, I nodded before sitting down to slip my runners off.

“Not terrible. Mira scratched someone, though.”

She frowned. “Oh no. Are they alright?”

Sighing, I began unbuttoning my vest. “Yeah, he was just happy to get to see her. Group of American guys.”

When I shrugged off my best, I noticed it felt heavy, which was odd. Slipping my fingers in the pockets, I felt the flat, cool screen, and let my head fall back.

“Fuck.”

“What’s that?” Kylie had turned her head to look at me.

“I snatched one of their phones on accident. Shit.”

She giggled. “Well, damn. Did you catch his name?”

I shook my head. “No. Just his friend who got hurt, and not even a last name.”

“Mm, better put it in lost and found then.”

I stood, reaching to set down the phone. Before I could, it began vibrating in my hand, and I turned it over. The face of the boy I had interacted with earlier popped on the screen with the name ‘Folio’ on it.

I bit my lip, and Kylie noticed. “Going to answer it?”

“Should I?”

She just gestured toward me in a ‘duh’ fashion.

I swiped open the call, and put it up to my ear.

“Hello?”

“So, you have my phone.” A smooth, baritone voice came through the speaker.

I smiled, sitting on the bench behind me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about it.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. “No problem. Can I come get it?”

I looked up at Kylie, who was watching me expectedly. “Well, the preserve is closed for the night. I can leave it at the lost and found and you can grab it in the morning?”

“Hmm,” I heard him thinking. “I kind of can’t wait that long to get it back. Plus, I fly out in the morning.”

“Ah,” I sighed. “well, are you staying nearby? I can probably drop it off on my way home.”

“Well, the guys and I are going to Faldry’s for dinner. Could you meet me there?”

“Sure, that’s on my way.”

I heard a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate it, uh,” There was a beat of silence. “what was your name, again?”

I smiled. “Charlie.”

“That’s right.” I swore I could hear a smile in his voice. “I’m Noah.”

“Alright Noah, I can be there in half?”

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

The drive to the restaurant was quick, and for some reason, I felt nervous? I guess that made sense, given it was embarrassing that I managed to take this random stranger’s phone without even trying. I had a great gift for being an absolute moron. The parking lot was relatively full, so I pulled into a space toward the back. Unsure of how to let him know how I was here, I walked into the building, taking a breath and glancing around the room for the person I was trying to find.

The host approached the stand, flashing his teeth at me. "Evening. Do you have a reservation?"

Gripping the strap of my bag, I let my face fall. "Uh, no," My head whipped around more, still no luck in finding the party. "I'm here to see someone?"

He nodded tapping his computer screen. "Name?"

I closed my eyes, realizing I didn't know his surname. "Noah..." My stare pleaded with him. "He's uh, tall? Dark hair? Tattooed?"

He stared at me, clearly not following.

"He's American? With a group?"

This seemed to spark his memory, a flash of recognition crossing his features.

"Ah, I know who you mean. They're toward the back, table sixteen."

Smiling apologetically, I moved around the booth toward the other side of the dining room. Once I rounded the corner around the bar, I could see the table, more people than I recognized sitting around it.

Noah was sat, ball cap on his head, laughing at something with everyone else at the table. My chest stuttered for a moment. Now, instead of a casual tank top, he wore a plain white t-shirt. His hair peaked out from under his hat. Most noticeable was his smile, so bright and stunning. I hadn't had the chance to catch that earlier...

I gripped the phone in my hand, and swallowed before making my way over to the table. The boy I had spoken with earlier in the day - Nick - noticed me first.

"Hey!" All eyes lifted to me, and I felt more nervous than I had previously.

I gave a small wave, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. "Hello, everyone."

Noah stood, walking around the table. I handed him the phone, and he smirked at me. "Thank you so much for bringing this. I can't tell you how screwed I would've been if you hadn't."

I nodded, feeling so small stood next to him. "Of course. It was my fault, anyway."

His hand dismissed me. "It happens."

A strange, awkward silence fell over us, so I turned to the rest of the group, giving a timid grin. "Well, I'll be off, then."

"Wait," I felt fingers grab my forearm, gently pulling my attention. I looked up at Noah again, his face soft. "can I maybe," He glanced back at his friends for...something? Approval, maybe? "buy you a drink or something?"

I was caught off guard, and my face must've shown it, because his hand fell from my arm.

"Oh, uh," My eyes bounced off of the other faces at the table, who were still mostly looking right at me. "I shouldn't. I don't want to intrude."

He shook his head. "You're not! I want to do something to thank you for this." He held his phone up for reference.

I smiled, finding it exceptionally difficult to turn him down. "I mean, I suppose I could go for a cold one."

Something pulled the corners of his lips up at me.

"Great!" He turned back to his mates. "I'll be back?"

They all nodded, Nick giving him a brotherly slap on the arm. He lead me over to the bar, and pulled a stool out for me before taking the one to my right.

The bartender took our order, both of us settling on some ale before he turned his face to look at me.

"So," The drinks were placed in front of us, and I took a pull from my pint. "you like animals, huh?"

This made me laugh. What a generic conversation starter. He didn't have a lot to go on, and it was funny.

"I do. Always have."

He took a drink, and set his glass down hard on the bar. "That's really cool."

He was trying, but that topic could only get us so far.

"Do you?" I decided to venture.

"As much as the next person, I guess? I have a dog at home."

I smiled, wiping my upper lip on the napkin under my glass. "Back in the States?"

He nodded. "In California."

"Ah, what's that like?"

"You've never been over there?"

I shook my head, swallowing my beer. "Never been across the pond. Only time I left Straya was when my family would go to New Zealand on vacation. It's been a long time, though."

"New Zealand? Wow, that sounds amazing."

"It really is. It's beautiful there. And safe."

He took a big gulp of his beer, and began folding his own napkin over itself. "Well, California isn't." He said with a laugh.

I quirked an eyebrow. "I've heard." I turned my body to look at him better, studying the tattoos on his skin. "So what brings you here?"

He smiled to himself then, chewing on his thumbnail. "We had a concert."

"A concert? You flew all this way to see a band?"

He finished his drink, and signaled to the barkeep for another. "We are the band."

This made me pause. That made sense, now didn't it?

"Oh. Very nice!" The bartender brought us two fresh drinks. "What kind of music?"

"Rock music. Metal-ish?"

"What do you call yourselves?"

He smirked, staring at me from his peripherals. "Bad Omens."

"Hmm," I took a drink of my fresh beer. "that's interesting."

He snickered. "Interesting? How do you mean?"

"Sounds kind of dark."

"That's the point, honestly."

I traced the rim of the glass with my index finger, looking at him as he spoke. His lips were so pretty. And his eyes were so dark that they were almost enticing.

"I see." I finally looked away from him, down at the bubbles in my drink. "So, how do you like it here?"

He leaned forward, pressing his elbows onto the bar. "It's not my first time. It's been a while, though. I like it."

"But...?" I could tell he wasn't sold.

His cheeks tinted. "It's really hot. And the spiders are fucking crazy."

This caused a deep belly laugh to pull out of me. "That's too funny."

"Why is that funny?" He cackled with me, and I wiped a tear from my eyes.

"Ah, I don't know. A big tough guy like you being afraid of spiders? It's just funny."

He looked at me curiously. "Hey, I'm not afraid of them. I just prefer not to find giant ones in my hotel bathroom."

This only made me laugh harder, and his elbow bumped my arm playfully.

"You've got a good laugh."

This brought me back to Earth for a second, now feeling self-conscious. I contained my giggles and looked back at him.

"What?"

His smirk was silly when he brought his glass to his lips. "I like your laugh."

I shook my head. "Thank you?"

He giggled into his cup. "You're welcome."

We sat this way for a while. He continued to drink beer, but I ordered a soda after my second drink. Continuing to laugh about various different subjects, and telling stories, we then noticed the restaurant beginning to thin.

"Well then, we've been here a while, haven't we?" I mentioned as I glanced around.

"Yeah, I guess so." His eyes were sparkling when they looked at me, which made something in my stomach flip. "I've had a good time talking to you."

Returning the sentiment, I leaned against his arm. "Me too."

His mouth pouted for a second. "I'm pretty bummed I'm leaving tomorrow, or I'd offer to take you on an actual date."

This made me nearly choke on the Cola I was sucking through my straw.

"Oh yeah?" Was all I could manage.

"Well, sure. Why not?"

I raised a brow at him. "Rockstar like yourself? You've got to have a lady at home waiting, don't you?"

He huffed out a sigh, staring down at his hands. "Nah, not lately."

Chewing on my lip, I shrugged. "Then I guess," I leaned in so he could hear me clearly. "it is a shame you have to leave tomorrow."

I could feel his breath on my face, and his brow furrowed, studying me.

"I'll just have to come back soon, huh?"

Smiling, I let my stare fall on his lips. "I guess you will."

His face came closer to mine, the proximity making the air thick. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and his nose brushed against mine. Letting my eyes fall closed, I waited for him to close the gap.

"Can I walk you to your car?"

My eyes snapped open, noticing he hadn't moved, but also hadn't moved.

A shred of disappointment filled me, but I pulled back, gathering my thoughts.

"Uh," I shouldered my purse, a bewildered look on my face. "sure."

I slipped off of the barstool, and walked past him, noticing his palm finding the small of my back to guide me toward the door.

Once outside, the crisp summer evening bit at my skin. I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands as we walked to my car, far in the back of the, now mostly empty, parking lot.

I turned around once I had reached the driver's door, intending to bid him a good night and a safe flight home, but - for the second time - was caught off guard.

His chest pressed against mine, pinning me against the side of my car, and his lips crashed into mine. He was gentle, but still forceful enough to make my knees goes weak.

His hands held the roof of my car on either side of my head, and my eyes rolled back as I molded into him, my hands reaching up to grasp the sides of his neck. He breathed into me, sparking something hot in my chest, and made me press my body closer against his.

One of his arms circled around my waist, lifting me up on my tip-toes to reach his face easier. Our lips fought for leverage, tongues swiping over each other. My brain was buzzing with the intensity of it.

When he finally pulled away from me, bringing me back down on the ground, I was breathing heavily, and staring up at him hungrily. He smiled, a sheen of moisture on his swollen bottom lip.

"Thank you, Charlie, for a great evening."

My pupils were dilated wide, and my hands were gripping his shirt, still.

"Thank you for the drinks, Noah."

Letting him go, my hands falling loose at my sides, he took a step back, looking down at the ground where he kicked at the asphalt.

"Could I, maybe..." He was hesitating, which was funny, given he was so confident not a moment before. "Can we exchange numbers?"

My eyebrows shot up at the absurdity of it. He lived thousands of miles away.

"You're serious?"

He just looked at me, pleading. "I am."

I scoffed, holding a hand out. "Let me see your cell."

This brought a grin to his face, his hand slipping his phone out of his pocket. "You're going to give it back this time?"

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Maybe."

He unlocked the screen, and I opened a new contact. Quickly adding myself, I handed it back to him. He looked over the screen, and nodded, satisfied.

He huffed out a sigh, and then held his arms open. I pulled into them, the abnormally long limbs wrapping around me easily.

"Be safe getting home?"

He nodded when he pulled away. "Of course."

I could see his regard, trying to decide if he should. Deciding for him, I careened up as tall as I could, and placed one last soft kiss on his lips.

"Goodnight, Noah."

I opened my door, and sat down in the driver's seat.

"Goodnight, Charlie."

The entire drive home, all I could see in my mind's eye was deep brown eyes and tattoos. Long fingers and even longer arms. Short, straight black hair. An annoyingly adorable smile.

What were the odds? I finally meet a guy, and I will likely will never see him again...

I pulled into my drive, leaning my head against the steering wheel. I'm just so lucky.

My phone lit up in my console, and I grabbed it hastily. The unknown number flashed on my screen.

Noah: Hey beautiful. ;)

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens cult

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crocodilenjoyer · 7 months ago

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op fic recs

dont tell my professors.

A head pops up on the other side of Straw Hat; the last of the fading sunlight refracts off Roronoa’s earrings, winking at her. “Oh,” he says, sounding only mildly surprised to see her. “You’re here too.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Roronoa grins. “Yeah. He does this.”

Nami props herself up a little higher on her already bruising elbow. Straw Hat’s got an arm wrapped around Roronoa, same as her, pinning him to his other side.

“Okay,” Nami says, feeling her third headache in as many hours beginning to creep up. “What is this?”

“How he sleeps, I guess. Been doing it since we started sailing together.”

“You’re joking.”

Roronoa shrugs.

“Well, how do we get him to let go?”

“Dunno. Haven’t figured that part out yet,” Roronoa says and then, because he’s no help at all, lays back down.

Sanji is carefully placing a cherry on top of the ice cream, his hands nimble, soft, almost—gentle. But all Zoro sees is the way the hems of his pants are still soaked in blood from an earlier skirmish with a marine ship, red seeping into the cracks on the floorboard, spattering across the kitchen floor in a slow drip, drip, drip.

Zoro stares, fascinated. He can’t bring himself to look away.

(Or, Zoro and Sanji—terrible monsters, in love)

“I don’t buy it,” Pete retorts. “Someone like you? Some cook from East Blue? You’re probably worth a couple hundred thousand bellies at best, maybe a million, if your captain’s somebody.”

Sanji tilts his head back so that it rests against the dirty wall behind him. He’s still upright, somehow, through sheer stubbornness or spite. He doesn’t look like someone who only has tonight left to live. In fact, he looks sharp. There’s no better word for it. His expression is still as peaceable as it has been since he arrived, but watching him is like watching a knife slide out of its sheath. He is, abruptly, dangerous. A tool made for cutting.

“If you knew where I’ve been, you would be terrified of me,” he says.

A catalogue of things stolen by, for, and from Princess Vivi of Alabasta with regards to a certain thief, as documented by her long-suffering captain of the guard.

“If you’re looking for Arlong, he’s inside,” she says, pointing at the monstrous building. Jinbe doesn’t look away from her, from the bruise over her eye. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen. Her fingers are worn red and raw. As he watches, a drop of blood drips to the ground.

A girl, with reddish hair and exhausted eyes and a ragged, forced smile, and it’s Koala but it’s not.

(Jinbe goes to check in on his brother, and finds some things that need to be set right.)

“Do you think you can bench press me?” Luffy asks, interrupting him in the middle of a crunch, and Zoro pauses and says, “yeah, sure.”

There’s a tightening feeling low in Shanks’ stomach as his gaze follows those long fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle, the candlelight lancing over a sharp cheekbone. Mihawk is terrifying before he is beautiful, but Shanks isn’t afraid of him, and Mihawk is so fucking pretty. The dim glow filtering in through the windows is beginning to tinge warm, reminding Shanks that they’re on borrowed time; he glances at the clock and decides. He reaches over before Mihawk can straighten and curls his fingers around the shell of his ear.

“Hey.”

Mihawk stills and looks at him from the corner of his eye, barely turning his head. The bottle is in his hand, and Shanks trails his fingers down Mihawk’s jaw to take the liquor from him and set it down on the table.

“Wanna bang?”

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

Standards by taizi | nr, probably g | post-timeskip | gen, straw hats | 2.4k

"You aren't planning on bringing that boy in with you tomorrow night, are you? Our restaurant has certain standards."

(In which the Straw Hats set out to prove their captain meets certain standards; whether he likes it or not.)

Usopp gets his hands on a tattoo machine.

Soon after, he gets his hands all over his crew.

When they’re on the forecastle, with the helm just behind them and the figurehead casting them further in shadow, Usopp calls, “Raise the sails!”

Luffy’s gasp next to his ear is the best part of his entire day.

The sails unfold in a great rolling crash of canvas. Even the striped gaff swings out, catching the wind. The whole sloop gives a powerful lurch as if she’s eager to sprint out of port on the back of whatever gale blows along next.

And painted on the foresail, bold and bright and proud, is a grinning Jolly Roger in a yellow straw hat.

“That’s mine,” Luffy whispers, hushed and awed.

“Told you so,” Usopp says smugly.

Ever since he'd left home, people had not stopped asking Zoro about his accent.

Or, the reason Zoro was allowed to wander around alone in Wano.

He keeps moving forward at a steady pace, resisting the urge to run because how fucking embarrassing would that be, running because he missed them, and as he breaks through the treeline he shouts, “Oi, oi—what took you guys so long? It's been—”

And then he freezes, because yes, actually—something is very, very wrong.

The Sunny is anchored just off shore, close enough to see the deck but far enough away that the crew has had to take the Mini Merry to make land. Scattered across the beach in various stages of chaos—rolling around, yelling, fighting—are his crew but not his crew, so similar and yet so, so different. They look younger, fresher, and whatthefuck there, on the deck of the Sunny just peering over the railing, he catches a flash of green—his own green hair—

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts, and then immediately turns back around because no, actually, he does not want to deal with this.

It’s been a while since Sanji has gotten some action, which is the only reason why Zoro’s deplorable, barely-there attempt somehow works. Obviously.

Luffy looks again at the bitemarks that he left on Zoro’s wrist. Zoro’s usually hurt, one way or another. Sometimes it’s definitely been Luffy’s fault too, but the bitemarks feel different. They ain’t like normal bruises or cuts. There’s something about seeing the shape of his teeth in Zoro’s skin. Something about the colors, the slightly paler insides of Zoro’s wrists, and the blueness of his veins, and the dark pink color of where Luffy bit him.

Luffy unhinges his jaw and crams an entire breakfast ham down his throat. He chews reflectively a moment and then demands,

“Zoro, you wanna have a date tonight?”

Zoro answers by inhaling the rest of his orange juice through his nose and promptly spewing it everywhere.

“That a yes?”

Luffy and Zoro destroy a restaurant, end up lost, get in a bar fight with a bunch of pirates and go on their first date. Not necessarily in that order.

“Sanji! It’s lunchtime, right? Now? Soon? Now, right?”

His legs are tight around Sanji’s waist and his arms have come around Sanji’s chest and crossed, grabbing the opposite shoulders, the whole length of his chest pressed tight and close. Sanji can feel the vibration when he talks, the snap of the rubber resonating in his bones.

Luffy’s hair is tickling the back of his neck.

The whole thing is – it’s –

For a long second Sanji is frozen.

“Sanji?”

It feels –

(The Straw Hat Pirates set sail in the East Blue.)

If he gets caught stealing again, if he loses his other hand, he’ll never be a pirate. Never be anything besides a crippled beggar, pleading for scraps.

If he doesn’t steal, he’ll starve.

Despite the fluid nature of his ambition, Zoro himself rarely changes: principles, directions, appearance. And when he does, he makes sure it's under the heavy influence of both long-term irritation and a healthy dose of the nearest hard liquor.

Or, Zoro is trans, surgeries cost money, and there's little to no verified adult supervision in his life.

“God, again?!” Usopp looks down at Sanji who's sitting against a column and tilting his head back while pressing a tissue against his bleeding nose.

“Shu' ub,” Sanji growls. Or, he tries to. It sounds rather unimpressive.

“You're terrible,” Usopp says but he can't hold back the fond smile that's been blooming all over his face again and again ever since he's stepped foot on the Sunny after returning to Sabaody.

It's the big party after defeating Hody Jones. Usopp gets Sanji away from all the mermaids. (Honestly, Sanji, these nosebleeds are disgusting.)

#riko.txt #zolu #zosan #usosan #straw hat pirates #mishanks #nami #crocodile #sanji #namivivi #jinbe #zoro #fic rec #fic

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gothlcsan · 1 year ago

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라이즈 ; FOOD PLAY

PAIRING non idol riize , reader (no gender specified)

GENRE 18+ , slight smut , fluff

SYNOPSIS you mention bringing food play into the bedroom, these are their reactions

WORD COUNT 983

WARNINGS food play, kissing, fluff, mentions of puppy play, food in general, making out, oral fixation, i ♡ sub!sohee

♫ strawberry skies - kid travis

a/n day six of kinktober! not proofread, just little thoughts that flooded my mind so i hope you enjoy nonetheless! ♡ please consider liking and reblogging if you enjoy! (´⌣`ʃƪ)

shotaro his latest obsession has been the snack, sponge crunch. you’ve watched him get into the car and then run all the way back into the house just to grab a baggie of them, telling him he needed an intervention. however he’s bent on making you understand the obsession because in his words, “they’re life changing.” one night he sits you down telling you that he will make you love them (which you didn’t dislike, you just loved to see shotaro passionately explain his snack to you) letting him bring them up to your lips hand feeding you one by one. jokingly you tell him you still don’t see the hype, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout before his eyes light up, bringing one to rest between his lips bringing it up to your own. it surprised you, staring at it before taking the hint to take it into your own mouth, humming at the taste as he placed a hand on the back of your neck to steal a chocolate covered kiss. now, this, this is something you could understand the hype for; climbing onto his lap letting him pass chocolates into your mouth the sweet flavor mixing heavenly with his tongue swiping across yours stealing a taste.

eunseok you mention one evening that you’d like to try food play, eunseok pretending to be oblivious (to tease you) asking why you’d want to play with your food instead of eating it. groaning you explain what you meant him asking if pasta was a contender for this activity making you want to strangle your boyfriend. he makes it up to you by buying you candies and letting you place some into his mouth before kissing him; bent over in laughter as he asked again.. “can we try this with pasta?”

seunghan loves, loves, loves those biscuit snacks filled with chocolate in them. every year for his birthday you’d get him various kinds, his favourite being the chocolate filled koalas. the two of you never verbally introduced the idea of food play in the bedroom, simply one day making out softly while sharing the snack, chocolate intoxicating the both of you. it quickly becomes a habit, you or seunghan bringing a snack towards the other, the other person stealing it from in between your lips eating it before kissing, the sweet taste on each others lips and tongue making it easy to get lost in each other for a few hours.

wonbin there's not many sweets he likes, preferring salty over sweet. he also doesn’t enjoy having sticky things against his skin from sensory overload. however, he will consider doing anything at least once with you wanting to respect your wishes and needs as you do the same for him. he carefully placed jellied gummies onto your body doing your best not to giggle at how cute he looked fully concentrated on placing them down. his lips brush against your skin making you shiver, the tip of his tongue dragging up your skin as he hooks the gummy into his mouth. he’s so handsome making your head spin as he finished the gummies quickly, kissing and leaving love bites all over you making your brain fall fuzzy.

sungchan your boyfriend loves salty food, a dilemma that left you sitting on your bed pondering on how you’d bring up the idea of food play in the bedroom. he walks into the bedroom, sitting down next to you asking if you’re alright since you were spaced out not replying to him moments ago. you nod, placing your hands balled up in your lap asking if you could ask him something. concern covers his face instantly reassuring you that you could ask anything. you blush profusely explaining your question, the wide smile on his face making your skin cover itself with goosebumps. sungchan offers the idea of the sea salt chocolate you two had in the kitchen, blushing once more as he pressed a kiss on your forehead telling you to get comfortable as he warms it up.

anton such a foodie, loves his sweets. food play being introduced into the bedroom because he’s trying to eat some ice cream but you will not leave him alone! pressing kisses against his lips telling him he tastes so sweet trying to climb into his lap, giggling apologetically as it gets onto your thigh. usually he’d be annoyed by someone interrupting him while eating but he’s genuinely so adorned with you that he lets it slide.. loosely. he pushes you onto your back, kissing up and down your thighs before going to the left one to lick the ice cream from it, loving the way you shiver and gasp underneath him. you’re so receptive, so unbelievably sensitive to his touches and it turns him on so much knowing he can get you going after only a few touches.

sohee he’s so endearing, his pretty eyes widening when you bring up the probability of bringing food into the bedroom; clarifying you meant sexually. sohee reminds you of cute, pretty things, placing a small bowl of strawberries next to his lap, his eyes fixated on the can of whipped topping. he’s so puppy coded the way he cocks his head to the side letting you move him as you pleased, carrying a strawberry to his lips, telling him to open wide. the feeling of his tongue brushing against your fingers causes you to shiver, watching him slowly eat the strawberry. you all but nearly pass away as he grabs your wrist, sticking your whipped topping covered fingers into his mouth, sucking on the digits until they were cleaned nicely. pressing your thumb against his tongue cooing as his pretty lips latching around it humming at the sensation. he’s just so endearing you can’t help but cover him in strawberries and cream, kissing and licking him clean until he cums untouched.

#riize imagines #riize #riize smut #sub sohee #gothlcsan #kinktober #smut #kpop smut #riize x reader #fiction #riize smau

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gebo4482 · 1 year ago

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youtube

The Gap - Mia's Trailer | PS5 & PS4 Games

Website / Steam

#the gap #label this #crunching koalas #indie games #adventure games #mystery games #trailer #fgs 2023 #gamescom 2023 #Youtube

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mysticwolfshadows · 7 months ago

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Taken - Zutara - Part 5

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

When the ship docked just outside of the village wall, Katara was eager to scramble down the gang plank. Already she could see people moving around, women ducking children away and warriors grabbing spears. In her excitement, she nearly fell, only to be caught by Zuko. She beamed at him, but he only kept his eyes ahead, a strange look of determination on his face.

Snow crunched under her boots with matching gloves to keep her hands warm, both lined with more Koala-Sheep wool. She was the only one with such things, and she had a feeling Zuko had gotten them just for her. Her neck warmed, the coat doing its job almost to well.

She could see warriors lining up outside the village, spears at the ready. There was one man, one whose face had blurred in her memory, that stepped forward first. Had his hair always been that long? Had he always had a beard? But Katara knew just who he was.

"Dad!"

Her father froze, staring at her as she pulled away from her place at Zuko's side, and sprinted towards her people. She threw her arms around her father, tears welling in her eyes as he stiffly caught her. His knees buckled, and they fell to their knees in the snow.

"Katara?" her father breathed in a whisper, pulling away enough that he could grab her face and really look at her. "Is it... Are you really...?"

"Yeah," she said, laughing more brightly than she had in years. "Yeah, It's me! I'm here! And-"

Cutting herself off, she looked behind herself, finding Zuko and the Fire Nation soldiers had stopped. She slipped from her father's grasp, his hands trying to hold, but was shocked to keep her there. Crunching through the snow, she grabbed at Zuko's hand, pulling him towards her people. He stumbled, clearly surprised, but managed to catch himself. Straightening, he met her father's eyes.

"Dad," she said, clear and proud. "This is Prince Zuko! He's been a good friend to me in the Fire Nation. He's the one that brought me home! I didn't believe him when he said he would, but he did anyway."

"I made you a promise," Zuko said, voice rather somber. "I would never go back on my word."

Hakoda eyed the two, hesitant. "That is very honorable of you, Prince Zuko. As thanks for returning my daughter, please, eat with us. We need to celebrate."

Zuko's hand had squeezed tightly around her own at some point, filled with nervous energy. "After what my Nation has done, I couldn't possibly-"

"Come on," Katara insisted, tugging him another step forward. "None of that. Dad is offering you an opportunity to make up for that."

She knew that Zuko stumbled with his etiquette at times, but she had never been afforded that luxury in the Palace. She had already been so excited, and hugged her father openly in front of so many. She knew she had done it before the Fire Nation, but now... The anxious butterflies in her stomach were twisting all about. Putting her hands in proper form, she leaned forward into a bow to match Zuko's.

"Thank you, sir," Zuko said, his voice tight. "It would be... an honor... to dine with you and your people."

When he straightened, Katara followed, and looked up at her father. He had a pinched look on his face, and Katara wasn't sure why. Still, he led them into the village, and announced that they had cause to celebrate. The Fire Nation Prince had returned Katara, and that Zuko and his soldiers would dine together. The men would hunt, the women would cook, and the children would prepare a bonfire.

Zuko was quick to take preparations for the bonfire off the hands of the younger tribesmen, but Katara didn't have time to worry about that. She saw more familiar faces poking out of the huts, and a boy not much older than herself sprinting across the snow. Her brother swept her up, nearly knocking her back into the snow, as tears built in his eyes.

"Don't ever do that again," Sokka demanded, tugging her close. "One second you were there, and the next... Katara, you can't do that."

Her mother and Gran Gran were close behind. Everyone huddled together like penguin seals around her, crying out their joy. Her mother pulled herself away to turn to Zuko, pulling him into a hug. Katara went as wide eyed as Zuko did. To so brazenly touch a member of the royal family without permission, it was unthinkable! The only reason she did was because she and Zuko were friends, and he had given her blanket permission ages ago. Her position as a healer also led to a much higher need for it. But her mother...

"Thank you," her mother breathed into Zuko's hair. "Thank you, so much, for returning our Katara."

Zuko turned to look at her in surprise, clearly asking for help. Katara shot him a smile instead.

When they all finally let go, her mother and Gran Gran kept a close eye on them as they started to help prepare the meal. Sokka stayed with her, becoming her own personal shadow like guards used to when she had been Fire Lady Ilah's personal healer. She watched as younger children to young to remember when Katara was taken swarmed Zuko, Iroh, and the Fire Nation soldiers, asking questions that Katara couldn't quite make out. Still, Zuko looked extremely uncomfortable, and perhaps she should go rescue him from the whims tiny children.

"Do you need a different coat?" Sokka asked suddenly, drawing her attention away from Zuko.

"No," she said, frowning a bit. "Why would I need a different coat?"

"It's just..." Her brother's hand reached forward, the dark blue of his glove standing out against the vibrant Fire Nation red. "It's very... red."

Katara frowned. "I like red?"

Sokka dropped his hand, a strange look on his face. It was similar to the one her father had. She couldn't really understand what the look was for.

"If he's the Prince," Sokka continued, "does that mean you were in the Palace or whatever?"

Nodding, she moved to sit on one of the mats laid out for the celebration. She tucked her feet under her, being sure to sit up straight. Sokka followed suit, a frown seeming to permanently carve itself into his face. She absently noticed how he sat with his legs crossed, slouched forward as he looked at her.

"I was assigned as Fire Lady Ilah's healer," she explained, tucking her hands into her sleeves. "She needed full time care, but she was kind and just. She was truly blessed by the light of Agni, a wonderful Fire Lady." Katara paused, giving a small sigh. "When Fire Lady Ilah passed, I was made a ward of Lady Ursa, Prince Zuko's mother, and spent much of my time in private lessons, and in the company of Prince Zuko. However, Lady Ursa went missing when Fire Lord Azulon passed, and I was put under the direction of Fire Lord Ozai. He ordered that I return to my original duties, and I became a full time healer under Physician Keisuke. I've been diligent in my work since then."

Sokka was still looking at her strangely, and she couldn't figure it out. She had been honest with him, and there was little reason for him to find anything odd about what she said. Opening her mouth, she fully intended to demand answers from her brother, only for the men to return and a buzz of activity to distract her.

It was in the new bustle of movement, that Katara was able to escape her brother and make her way to Iroh and Zuko. The latter was watching the man unload a few things from the ship, and would occasionally glance at her. She bowed slightly to Iroh, who returned it with a smile.

"Please, Princess Katara," Iroh said. "There is no need for that."

"Princess, General Iroh?" She frowned. "I believe you may be confused. I am no princess."

He hummed, glancing at Zuko. "I had not been aware you were the daughter of the chief. No matter the status of the Southern Water Tribe, you have the title. It is the same in the Northern Water Tribe."

Frowning, she shook her head. "Please. There's no need. I was hoping that I could have a moment with Prince Zuko?"

The Fire Prince was tense, but Iroh nodded, moving to take over. She watched the man fondly as he started to order a table set up for tea. Turning to Zuko, she reached out to take his hand. The bandages were still around his face, but she would have time to coax them off another time. For now, she wanted him to enjoy himself.

"Your uncle can handle the crew," she said, starting to tug him towards where the fire was. A Southern drum beat had started. It was different from what she was used to in the Fire Nation, but it would fit for the few dances she had learned while Ursa's ward. "Dance with me."

"You know I'm a terrible dancer," Zuko tired, but he followed after her all the same.

They set about in a dance, one of the simpler ones. There were still the sharp movements that the more complex dances were known for, but there were spins and twirls for Katara. Zuko was stiff the entire time, glancing down at their feet every now and then, but at the end, there were the polite applause of Fire Nation soldiers.

Katara wasn't sure how long they danced, but as the sky grew dark and the village grew with chatter, she pulled Zuko to join her in sitting on one of the mats. Most of the Southern women and children were sitting together on one side. The Fire Nation soldiers were spread out along the other, with a few tribesmen warriors scattered amongst them. The soldiers were talking in loud, uproarious voices, while the tribe was somewhat quiet.

Food was passed around. Stewed sea prunes, some arctic hen, and a bit of tiger seal jerky. Tea was passed around on Iroh's insistence, and Katara could see bags of fire flakes being handed out. She smiled at her own bowl. Stewed sea prunes had been her favorite before going to the Fire Nation. She eagerly ate a spoonfull. It was... bland.

It wasn't just the sea prunes. The Arctic hen and the tiger seal jerky were also bland. They had flavor, but it barely registered on her tongue.

Zuko leaned over, whispering. "Is it as good as you remember?"

He wasn't eating his, instead picking at the hen and jerky.

"It's great," she lied with a smile. "It's so great to be home."

He ducked his head, slowly shredding the hen with his fingers. "Good..."

Before she could ask what was wrong, her father stood.

"I would like to once again thank Prince Zuko and General Iroh for bringing Katara back to the tribe. As many of you know, she was taken from us for her bending, a rare trait that has been removed from our population after years of raids. But now, we have hope. They have brought hope back to our people. Hope that we can survive the coming years." Her father cast his gaze around at the Fire Nation soldiers, pausing on Zuko. "And hope that this will be the beginning of a peaceful alliance." Thrusting his cup into the air, he called out. "Hear, hear!"

There were scattered returned calls, mostly from tense warriors.

As the night slowly came to a close, Katara found herself yawning, her mother coming to nudge her towards the family hut. Katara smiled sleepily at Zuko as he bowed his head slightly.

"Goodnight, Zuko," she called.

He glanced at her, before his eyes dropped to the ground. She could just barely make out a faint smile, but he had an air of melancholy about him. "Goodnight, Katara."

He was acting so strange. It was another mystery that she would have to figure out come morning. For now, she was to tired, and followed her mother inside. Her families sleeping bags were all piled together in the middle, and Katara blinked. She'd forgotten they all slept together. She was so used to having her own room and bed...

She pushed the thoughts away. Sleep was already dragging at her eyes, so she climbed into her sleeping bag, the polar leopard lining itching her skin a bit. It was so different from the silky sheets of her bed in the Fire Nation....

The excitement of the day let her fall into a fitful sleep.

Come morning, she woke early. She blinked, squirming a little, having so little room to move with her family crowded around her. Climbing out of her sleeping bag, she moved to where their coats were set. Someone had tucked her red koala sheep coat into the back, and put a blue polar leopard one in its place.

Grabbing the koala sheep coat, she pulled it on and moved towards the door. She pulled on her Fire Nation boots, tucking her warm puffy pants into them. Pushing the door flap aside, she stepped out into the crisp morning air. The sun was just rising, and the village felt almost deserted, it was so quiet.

It didn't matter to Katara. Zuko would surely be up on the ship.

Heading to the village wall, she slipped through the gate, turning towards where the ship had docked the day before. For a minute, she blinked, looking out towards the water. In the distance, she could see a faint trail of smoke.

The ship was gone, and Zuko had left her behind.

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

#fanfic idea #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #fanfic #katara #zutara #wip

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daydreaming-en-pointe · 11 months ago

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋ you know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Oneshot - Angst

Warnings: Angst, Reader is dead (died before the events of ATSV), Hobie visits their grave, mentions of death (and grief), use of nicknames (sunshine, my love), inconsistent-ish Hobie accent (I’m trying my best but this man’s accent is so confusing 😭)

Word count: 930

A/N: This is my first proper attempt at angst with Hobie, and I’m still getting the hang of it so any constructive criticism or feedback is welcome! 💜

I might’ve gotten a bit carried away lmao

We never painted by the numbers, baby

But we were making it count

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

I guess you never know, never know

And it’s another day waking up alone

(the 1 by Taylor Swift)

Inky tendrils of darkness curled into the atmosphere, chasing away any traces of light remaining. Cruelly fitting, he had to admit, considering the reason for his visit.

Everyone was probably either asleep or trying to get there, but he couldn’t sleep. How could he? It wasn’t like his thoughts were occupied by anything else. The incident had happened a few months ago, yet it was all he could remember during the darkest hours of the night when he didn’t have it in him to push it away, to bury it under a false sense of happiness like trying to hold a sheet of glass together while it was cracking. Glue could only do so much to hold the fragile shards together.

Your voice, your laugh, the way your eyes scrunched when you smiled, how you would dance around to your favourite song, the way you could soothe his worries that would spiral into despair without you and calm him with a simple embrace.

He remembered everything clearly, which only added to the pain of it all. Jokes which were so bad that they got you giggling almost hysterically, spinning around on rooftops, tending to his wounds, making him food when he was exhausted, loyally coming to every one of his shows, painting his nails, waking up practically wrapped around him like a koala, cuddling after long, tiring days, holding him close and whispering sweet reassurances that he so easily believed as they fell from your lips.

“Wha’ would I ever do without ya, sunshine?”

Those words so innocently chuckled out on a park bench, his head on your lap while he looked up at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen — which, of course, you were in his eyes.

Now he didn’t have to imagine.

It was truly twisted how fate could snatch someone so suddenly, right after they’d promised that they’d be there forever. Twisted that he had just enough time to start believing that out of all the inconsistencies in his life, you might be an exception, one for the better.

Hobie stood in the bitter cold, the light dusting of snow mingling with mud crunching under his boots. The thin material of his leather vest and trousers on top of his spider suit was definitely not enough to keep him warm, but he was barely registering the chill creeping in through his clothes as he pulled off his mask.

His eyes ghosted over your tombstone, reading the all-too-familiar words etched into the stone. He let a shaky exhale and leaned down to drop a bundle of flowers in front of the unforgiving marble, displaying that name - carrying so much gravity because of the person it once belonged to - with a ruthless, twisted sort of pride.

The birthday - no, birth anniversary - of the love of his life. Those two words sounded hollow and meaningless, yet carried the weight of an impossibly heavy truth behind them. You were gone. You were never coming back. You would never be able to come running and leap into his arms again, never be able to fall into that familiar rhythm that belonged to you two alone.

“‘Ey, sunshine. It’s me again. Happy birthday, my love.” He still called you that, even months after your passing. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice the pitying glances and sad little sighs at the nickname. Oh, he noticed them alright. That just made him stubbornly insist on calling you that even more.

He sat down on the ground, tucking his legs underneath him to get down to the headstone’s level. As if someone hidden behind the invisible veil of life and death could meet his eyes and give him that smile that used to make his heart flare every time without fail. As if said someone could make the hurt go away with a gentle kiss, get him thinking about something else like changing the channel on a radio station.

“I miss you. A lot. I wish you were ‘ere. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t protect you. I know you wouldn’t want me to beat myself up about it, but…” Hobie trailed off, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that made his voice sound thick to his own ears. “Anyway. There’s this kid who got recruited into the Spider Society. Remember, I told you about it before… yeah. ‘Er name’s Gwen, ‘er dad - ‘e’s a cop - threa’ened to arrest ‘er so I took ‘er in. Spider-Woman’s viewed as criminal in their universe, so obviously that doesn’t work well for ‘er. She’s a wicked drummer. I wish you two could meet, you’d love ‘er.”

He cut himself off as his voice broke at the end, closing his eyes as he allowed a few tears to well up. “I got you somethin’, by the way.”

He reached into his pocket and brought out a tiny clay tabby cat that he had made himself. He was so proud of it because its eyes reminded him of you, sparkly and crinkled with amusement in some ways but mostly kind. Kind eyes that held enough understanding behind them for anyone to feel safe.

He set it down amongst the flowers in front of your gravestone, nestling it in the comfort of a curtain of petals. “I didn’t tell you this since I wanted it to be a surprise, but… I was gonna get you a kitten for your birthday. We could’ve taken care of it together. Your constant pesterin’ would’ve finally paid off.“

I guess it’s too late now.

Hobie slowly got to his feet, trying to force a smile for you before giving up and just pulling his mask on again, feeling his tears sink into the fabric as it brushed against his eyelids.

“I’ll come visit you again soon, sunshine. I’ll bring my guitar too, maybe play you a song or two. Promise. I love you.” He brushed his fingers against the top of the gravestone, where a thin carpet comprised of tiny flecks of snow had gathered. The knowledge that you’d never be able to echo that sentiment back to him again pierced a hole through his heart for the umpteenth time.

I miss you more than I ever thought was possible.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099

#⋆·˚ 🌹 ༘ * — 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗶’𝘀 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨!#⋆·˚ 🌺 ༘ * — 𝙝𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙨!#atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie atsv #hobie spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv x gn reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x gender neutral reader #hobie angst #atsv angst #gn reader

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cevans-is-classic · 11 months ago

Text

18+ only, please! Sexual content, language, unprotected sex.

Happy Holidays guys!!!

More Pedro

my Masterlists: One and Two

“I believe you stole my shirt.” Javi leaned against the island, crunching down on a carrot stick and watching you load the blender up. The flannel brushed your thighs, sleeves flopping over your forearms until you shove at them. He loves this. Loves watching you grumpily make your morning smoothie and zombie waddle your way through the early morning. You’re disheveled in the mornings, soft and snarky all at once.

He grinned — your hair stuck up on the sides mused from sleep and sex.

Sleepy eyes glare at him when you turned around. “I like this shirt. It’s warm. Go away.” The blender startling you. Javi huffs out a laugh, moving away from the island to lean over you, one arm going around your waist and his chin resting on your head.

“Come back to bed-” His hand travels down your hip, fingers curling at the hem of the shirt.

The blender stops, “Javi-“

He slides his other hand up and around the front to touch the bare skin of your stomach. He fixed his thumb between two buttons and touched your skin. “Crawl into bed with me. We can stay there all day, Honey.” A kiss against your ear, your jaw, your neck and he sways you side to side.

“Carillo-“

“-knows this is our first weekend together, alone, in months. He’ll only call in an emergency.” He understood your worry. Far too many times, a phone call pulled you two apart. Your phone ringing in the middle of lunch is going off past midnight. He knows he’s selfish, but that didn’t stop him from sequestering your free time. Keep you closer to him, with him, to further his addiction over you — the way you laugh, your smile, the sounds you make when riding his cock.

“Baby.” You turn in his arms, pressing your hands against his chest, letting a long sigh out before tipping up to kiss his cheek. Soft lips lingering over his. “Let me finish this smoothie.”

“I’ll let you.” His mouth lingered over yours, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh.

“I’m not kidding. If I don’t drink this-” You gasped, his lips at your neck, teeth skimming the line of your jaw, “I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“He smiled into your collar. He knows you didn’t eat last night, knows why you didn’t eat last night too. “I ate plenty.” You smacked him, pulling back to level him with a look.

Javi grinned, all dimples and teeth.

“You’re impossible.”

Your hands reached for the counter as he lifted you, balancing you on the edge until your legs went around his waist. “Tell me what button to push.” He brushed his smile over your cheek, “Blend? Puree? How do you want it, honey?”

“Pulse.” It came out low, airy, legs tightening.

He pushed the button, and you gasped, jumping and pressing into him. His cock nudging against your stomach — he rolled his hips with the friction nipping at your jaw. Your eyes widen, mouth parting on a breath as he stops the blender, “Again?”

Your eyes flash to his lips then back up to him. “Yes.”

Another press to the button, blender coming to life, a startled yelp before you’re drawing him closer. He groaned at your feeling your nails down his shoulder. His shirt blocks most of the feeling but it’s there, the sting and tug of his clothes. Javi lets the blender die down once more to capture you in a kiss, licking his way into your mouth. Mint toothpaste, fresh. He licked your bottom lip, nipping at it. You groan, arms going ‘round his neck pulling him closer, pushing into him as he slips his hands under your thighs.

“What about the smoothie?” He suckles at your jaw, biting down your throat until you arch against him.

You huff a laugh, “God forbid the drug dealers of the world find out this is your most effective way of torturing people.”

Javier shook his head, gripping you tighter. “I’m sure the secret is safe with us.” You squeak when he picks you up. Your arms wrap around his neck, face dropping to his shoulder in a koala grip.

The couch is closest, his knees hitting the arm of it giving you time to relax as he drops you onto the cushions. The shirt rides up, your thighs opening as he climbs over you.

“You owe me a smoothie.” You tug at him, nails skimming his chest as he pulls it over his head.

“I promise you all the smoothies — tomorrow.” Your giggle lights his skin on fire as he ducks down to kiss across your chest, unbuttoning the shirt as he goes.

After each button he traces a line to the next one, watching you shiver. Your eyes track his movements, a gasp slipping out when he reaches for the last one and pinches it between his fingers.

No, Javi stops. I’m leaving it on.

He feels your heart beat when he drops his head and takes a nipple into his mouth. Your hips jerk, snapping against him when he nips the bud. You’re sensitive here, so sensitive. It makes his gut twist, knees weak, knowing he can make you beg by playing with your chest. A bite here, a lick there, his fingers pinching the other nipple until he moves to the next.

“Could I make you come like this?” Javi peers up at you. “Suck on you until you’re begging for it?”

You whimper, “Javi-”

“I could do this,” He moves his hand, trailing it down before pulling the shirt away from your bottoms, “Oh-” He stops when his fingers touch wet heat, “Baby-” you’re wet, soaking. He traces you with his fingers spreading you open, thumb sliding over your clit.

You jerk against him, dropping yourself down to push your clit into his heel and fuck his fingers into you.

Javi stops breathing for a second, “Fuck, honey.” You wiggle beneath him so Javi nips at your nipple and slides his fingers in, out then in again until you fucking yourself onto them. It’s hot, burning, his cock jerking against the couch cushion when you squeeze around him and whimper his name.

He sucks, nips, bite at your chest up to your neck to drag his teeth across your collar bone. When he catches you for a kiss, you moan, digging your nails into his back, pulling at his shirt and Javi groans. He pulls away and rips the shirt off, tossing it aside before diving back down to drag you into another kiss. His fingers are wet, sliding along your thigh when he pulls it up and rocks his cock against you.

Your heel presses into his ass. Your hand sliding down to tug at his briefs. He helps to yank them down his leg. It gets caught around his ankle, but he loses focus when your fingers wrap around him.

“Jesus.” He shudders, moving with you as you guide him into you. The burning heat makes him gasp, head dropping to your shoulder — your heel presses into his arms to make him move and Javi lets you fuck yourself onto his cock. He feels you move beneath him, one of your hand sliding down to push him deeper.

Your lips purse into a pout. “Please.”

Javi grins, “Don’t want to use me until your come on my cock?”

Your pout deepens, and your eyes flash open. “Fuck me before I decide I want the smoothie more.”

“Yes, sir.” Javi thrusts deeper into you. Your back arches, his hand moving to cradle your back and pull you into his lap. The position makes his knee twinges, making him hiss until your hips jerk and you’re moving with the roll of his hips — and the pain slips away.

He focuses on the drop of your hip, your hand reaching back to balance yourself. It gives him a chance to lift, moving to his knees until he pushes into the couch arm. It helps you balance better, one arm gripping the back of his neck and the pressing into the cushions. You’re fucking burning around him, squeezing with every gasp. His name sounds like a mantra when it spills from your lips. Javi wants to hear you say it all the time. Wants to hear the whispered hush of your voice that breaks into a scattered moan.

“Javi-” Your bottom lip trembles — hips moving faster,falling out of rhythm.

He grins, “Fuck yourself. Come on my cock, baby.” Your eyes flutter open and closes he trembles of your bottom lips, making him move faster. It makes a fire burn in his belly and the tingle of his cock head as his balls tighten.

“Come for me.” He grits out.

“Yes.” You cry, “Yes, Javi, fuck yes, yes yes-” You go taunt, squeezing your arm around his neck, your heat tightening around him. It makes him drop his head to your shoulder, moving his hand to the small of your back. You’re still twitching from your orgasm, his hand slipping to your ass to grip your cheek.

His skin buzzes, balls tightening more, that feeling settles low in his spine. You move again when he groans, “Fill me up, baby.” He bite into his lip, “let me feel you drip down my legs. Please, Javi, come for me.” Your voice is going tight, whining at the end. Javi moves your hips faster, meets you thrust for thrust until you shout his name.

“Javi.” Your nails scratch the back of his neck.

Javi loses himself hearing you mutter, “Javi, Javi, Javi-” each one getting quieter until he stops moving and you open your eyes.

“I still want my smoothie.”

Javi wheezes when he laughs.

#javier peña #narcos #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #pedro pascal character #javi peña #pedro pascal

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sashi-ya · 2 years ago

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月が綺麗ですね > 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚒𝚝?

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐞 ᴅᴀʏ sɪx > sᴀʙᴏ x ғ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

♡ request: @cupidcream asked: hi! if requests are open for the new event, could i have sabo with “your sweet perfume” ? and maybe childhood friends to lovers? thank you! (and sorry if requests aren’t open and i read the post wrong!!) ♡ tw: sfw. adaptation to a modern au about Sabo's memory lose and Dragon being his adoptive father. This was a perfect request for him, since I've always had the hc he smells like burnt caramel for some reason! SPOILER alert: "emperor of flames/ entei" is a canon name he receives, I won't state in which situation, since it hasn't been animated but yep, it's canon :P. ٠ wc: 1.4k ٠ ♡ masterlist ٠taglist: @zella07 @jin-supremacy01 @alexkanroji @jenwooly |

The scent of burnt caramel, that perfume he always had… the scent every morning now, invades your senses and makes you smile…

“Sabo, my knee!” you cried. His golden curls, a missing tooth, his big hat coming closer. “What happened, (Name)!?” he asked, crunching on your side, inspecting your scraped knee. As sweet as a little boy can be, he took the time to clean and cure each and every single scratch you ever did to your body. And you did too.

Living in Baltigo, a big orphanage wasn’t easy, especially for two little kids. However, both stick to each other to survive. Became the best of friends, almost like brother and sister.

But… when you finally found an adoptive family, you and him had to separate… but, there was something you always remembered of him; the scent of his skin. It was so sweet and special. It was like how little animals recognize their family and the burnt caramel perfume of his skin never left your memory… because you could never reach out to him, ever again.

Even if you begged your parents to go visit him, the people from the orphanage told you he had escaped… and you never, ever, saw him again.

Years passed. You have become a uni student, and life couldn’t be better. Your new year starting, meeting new people always excited you. “Politics here I go. I still remember when Sabo and I debated every night about the disparity of this world, we were just kids!… I hope you are proud of me, wherever you are” you murmur, holding to your backpack and walking proudly to the first lecture of the day.

As you shake some snow off your boots, you see someone pass you haven’t seen before. Golden wavy locks, a long dark blue coat, gloved hands, and a face hiding under a black beret. For a second you smell something sweet, something familiar.

You blink twice, staying there in the middle of the lecture hall entrance. Some people ask for you to move, others plainly push you. But you can’t move. Could he be…?

“(Name)! Hey! Earth calling (Name)!” Koala, your friend, and classmate pulls you out of your own world of doubts.

“Hey, Koko! Ye- yes. Sorry, what were you saying?” you ask, shaking your head. It cannot be… after so many years…

“Come on, class is gonna start and you are there standing! It looks like you’ve seen a ghost girl! What happened?” she asks, looking at your still surprised face.

“N-nothing, love. Let’s go, let’s get a spot before the class starts”

You try to find that young man that walked pass you a couple of minutes ago, but you can’t see him sitting anywhere. You start to think he was just the product of your imagination, but… that scent… that burnt caramel perfume…

You sit, and while you take out your laptop some sweet voice makes you look at the blackboard in front of you. That young man, the golden locks boy… he is sitting right in the professor’s desk.

He has a burn scar over his left eye…

“Hello class, I’m gonna be the new professor for Politics this year! Nice to meet you, you can call me Sabo!”

A single tear runs through your cheek, you can’t even blink… Sabo? Your sweet “flame emperor” as he liked to be called when you were playing in the dried brownish piles of leaves during chilly autumns at the orphanage.

“(Name)… what- what is it? Are you ok?” Koala asks, shaking your arm as she sees you cry and smile at the same time.

“That’s- I finally- I finally found him, Koko! that’s Sabo!” you murmur, breathing for the first time all the oxygen your lungs could get, because your heart has begun to beat completely, because you were complete now…

He crosses sight with you, giving you that sweet smile you used to remember. He hasn’t change a thing. But he has become a man, a handsome man.

You are delighted with the class he imparts. But can’t wait until it’s over. You only want to hug him, to tell him who you are. And, forty minutes (that felt like a total torture to your anxiety) after, the lecture is finally over and every classmate is out of the room, except for you…

You stand up, running down the stairs that get you to the desk and scream his name. “Sabo!!” you shout, jumping on and hugging him. He still smells like burnt caramel; he does. He really does. The warmth of his skin feels so familiar, that’s your Sabo.

He walks back, receiving you in his arms but he is absolutely scared of you. “WH- Who- who are you?” he asks, leaving you frozen. There is no way he isn’t recognizing you.

“Sabo! It’s me! (Name)! What happened to your eye? Are you ok?” you -almost- yell trying to feel the bumpiness of his eye scar.

“Excuse me. But- I have- Apparently, I had a big accident and I can’t remember anything before my adoptive father picked me from the streets. I’m really sorry if you belonged to my past but I can’t remember you” he whispered, with sad eyes.

Your happy face turns into a bleak one. How comes he doesn’t remember you? But the scent of his skin, and… your memories? You choke back tears, everything can be fixed, you are sure. “Then you and I should go have some coffee, and I will tell you who am I!” you chime, yet with teary eyes.

But, Sabo is now your professor…

“Dear, I can’t do that… I’m your professor now… I- I can’t go on a date with a student you-“ he tries to excuse himself, with blushed cheeks, looking right to the side. He certainly finds you interesting, gorgeous… but he couldn’t…

You stiffen up your back. He thinks this is gonna be a date?

“No, Sabo… listen, I wasn’t trying to act disrespectfully towards you. I know you are my professor, but you don’t understand… we- we were like siblings back then! I wanted to tell you about our past…” you try to explain, but he stops you by grabbing your hand.

Sabo takes some air. He is surely scared of facing the past, but he doesn’t really know why. And his eyes burn like flames when looking at you. The warmth of the leather glove on your hand feels like a distant memory you have never lived before. “I- I guess we could have some coffee after I’m finished with my classes then. If you don’t mind, could you remind me of your name, please?”

“I’m (Name). And sure, I’ll be here by the time you are finished, “my sweet emperor of flames”” you mumble the last part, turning around and walking towards the door. Your hair flows with your motions, and the scent of your sweet perfume meets his pointy nose.

And right before leaving, you hear a loud thump against the floor. “Sabo?!” you gasp, seeing him kneeling on the ground with tears on his steel eyes. Running to his help, you kneel right in front of him.

“Your- your sweet perfume… (Name)… I- I- it’s you… you have always smelled like marshmallows to me… I just remember how in love I was with you…”

“Sabo? You were in love with me?” you ask, gawking but wiping the tears off his eyes with your thumb. You had always had a crush with him, but you always thought it was only you… and little by little you accepted you were only like her little sister. A little sister he wanted to protect.

“I- You-“ he blushes intensely. But, he hugs you so tight. And the sweet fragrances of your skins meet once again… a sweet perfume only you could perceive, the scents of your souls… “I don’t give a fuck about the rules, please… let’s go on a date!”

As many as you want, my emperor of flames… 💖

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atsadi-shenanigans · 9 months ago

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Feeding Alligators 37 - Gaslight

Hyena monsters and something ain't right.

On AO3.

You realize the next day what you’d agreed to. And then you blame that for the absolute clusterfuck y’all walk into.

You’re walking along, lost in thought. Astarion is gonna bite you again. You done went and invited him to do it. Yes, there’s practical reasons, and yes, you don’t want more of these assholes in the group (your assholes) going hungry. But he’s a real flirty guy, and he is one hundred percent going to use this to tease you. Wants to already, judging from the looks he keeps tossing your way as y’all walk along the dirt road.

And that’s why you don’t notice the noise ahead (you will swear that as the truth to your grave). Snapping and growling and whimpering. Not until you crawl up the steep path—damn near a cliff—from the river and the stink of blood and ripped bowels smacks you in the face.

“Oh what the fuck,” you say.

You stepped into a massacre. Dead bodies, piles of viscera, and blood everywhere. You freeze so long one of the others has to tap the back of your calf to get you moving again.

“Go back down,” you start to say, but Astarion—the bastard—clambers past you like some kinda fucking spider man.

He takes in the scene, nostrils flaring, and says, “Well, what do we have here?”

Then the others are urging you up and you got to get outta the way as they pile up after you. By then, it’s too late. Y’all are upwind of whatever the fuck this is, and heads lift up down the road, noses in the air.

They ain’t human heads.

So now you’re up a tree, a big fucking hyena monster snapping at your ass cheeks. The branches are too thin to hold your weight any further up, and all you can do it cling and wrap your legs tighter and wait for the feel of big, nasty teeth sinking into your ass.

“Fuck off you hairy piece of shit!” you holler.

The hyena thing only snarls. Spittle lands on your face and if you weren’t so focused on koala hugging that branch for your life, you’da probably gagged.

The others have much better luck than you. Lae’zel will be able to claim another trophy for her head collection. Gale works up a spell that smacks two of them flying off the cliff in a crash of thunder. Astarion giggles as he darts around another, twin knives flashing, sending arcs of blood spraying.

A crunch. Your tree shudders. Fucker’s too big to climb up after you, so now it’s chewing on the trunk. A ghost of memory floats into your mind: some British grandpa voice over of a nature documentary talking about hyena bite strength.

The hairy bitch rips out a chunk of wood like a dog chewing on styrofoam.

“Shit, shit!” you say. You can’t get to your pack—it’s on the ground. Can’t do anything but watch, horrified, as the monster gnaws, bloodshot eyes trained on you—

A shout. A flash of light. Red engulfs the monster. The thing bulges from the inside, limbs writhing. Its jaw crunches down over its own tongue and bites it clean off. Eyes roll in their sockets, pink spittle froths the lips, and then the light snaps and the thing falls, still twitching.

“Eleanor!” Wyll says. He keeps his rapier out as he rushes over.

Your limbs shake about as bad as the hyena’s did. You finally lose your grip, but Wyll is there, wraps his free arm around you to keep you from tumbling onto your ass.

You tense at the touch. Abdomen pulls tight as your spine locks and you’re stepping away before you can really register the decision.

“Thank you,” you say. Glance to the gore spattered on you—Astarion had started the fight much closer to you, and your shirt is now a Jackson Pollock painted in red. “I didn’t want to get this all over you.”

Wyll’s smile is warm, his eyes soft. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’d found myself covered in gore after a fight. Are you alright? Did it hit you?”

“Nope,” you say and spread your arms to do a slow twirl (in case you’re wrong and haven’t come off the adrenaline enough to notice).

The hyenas had started popping like meat balloons and those monsters had clawed out of their bellies. They were fucking fast. Astarion is also fucking fast, which had given you just enough time to turn tail and sprint for the closest tree.

Fighting people is one thing. Fighting hyena monsters? Not so much.

“You don’t have much field experience, do you?” Wyll says.

“Was dropping my staff that much a giveaway?” you say. “I got no experience. Lae’zel is teaching me how to use that damn stick. Did you see where it went?”

Lae’zel is the one who finds it (oh fuck). She holds it out for you and her face is blank in the most terrifying way you ever seen. You almost don’t take it back. The prey instincts scream not to get so close to what is very obviously a crocodile waiting in the water.

She doesn’t even say anything, and that’s how you know you’re fucked. That woman is going to run you straight into the ground.

She leaves you standing there. And you start to feel the wetness on your hand, and you finally look down to the pile of guts she’d plucked your staff from.

“Oh! Fucking gross!”

Which is when Astarion saunters over, sheathing his own, cleaned knives. He looks at your staff, at you furiously shaking your hand, and laughs.

Y’all follow the bodies up the road. “Looking for survivors” as Wyll puts it. “A snack trail” as Astarion counters. Though the bodies are too dead for his liking, and he keeps “sneaking” glances over to you.

Y’all reach a bridge and spot the structure on the other side.

“Looks like a tollhouse,” Gale says and the urge to bite into a warm, chocolate chip cookie punches you right in the throat.

It quickly fades (though not entirely, which weirds you out, considering the carnage) as y’all pick through bodies and pieces of gore leading up to it. Slip through a jumble of crates and wooden spikes lashed together that looks like somebody tried to throw up a barricade. Trashed, abandoned wagons dot here and there, and as y’all approach, y’all catch sight of the hyena monster bodies sprawled all over the porch amidst more boxes and barrels with a flame painted on the sides.

You slow.

“You think anyone is alive in there?” Shadowheart says.

“We owe it to them to check,” Wyll says.

“Oh, they’re in there alright,” Astarion says. When everyone turns to look at him, “What? These ears aren’t just for decoration, you know. There’s at least four things with a pulse in there.”

The others look weirded out. You’d chalked it up to elf ears, but now you reconsider. He’d also specifically mentioned the pulse. So maybe it’s a vampire thing. And then you’re seeing him in a different light, one that sends a shiver down your spine. He looks like a pasty elf, and he’s got sharp teeth and he drank your blood. But he’s a vampire, and that means more than “pointy teeth” don’t it. He’s a predator. And he preys on people.

Except Wyll don’t look surprised. Just nods slowly and gives Astarion an appraising glance. “Vampire spawn. You lot can hear the twinkle of the stars, I’m told.”

“Hardly anything so poetic,” Astarion says. “And even if I could, it’d be drowned out by the sound of all of your nightly emissions. Honestly, do you have any idea how loud your digestive systems all are?”

“Four people,” Gale cuts in before any of y’all can think too deep about that. “I’d assume the toll collectors? Or whoever came to help whenever all this occurred?”

“We ought to see how they fare,” Wyll says. “And ask if they’ve seen anything.”

A red woman on fire, he means.

You let him take front. Move in with the others. It’s not just hyena monster bodies lying around, but human ones as well. Or humanoid, anyways. You have to step over a severed leg to reach the front door, boot still on, sock soaked through in blood.

Astarion’s chest ain’t moving. He notices you staring, rushes out a, “The blood.”

The stink is thick enough to clog your nostrils. Apparently, being undead and all, he really can just stop breathing. Probably a good thing, right now; it’s got to be some kinda torture for him to stand in all this.

Wyll opens the double doors and y’all spot three people. A guy with an even bigger fuck off sword than Lae’zel talking to a short little dude, and a hobbit (halfling?gnome? You don’t know) standing to the side.

All startle at y’all’s entrance. Hands grab for weapons. The halfling has a bow out and arrow knocked before you can even lift your hands.

“Who are you?” Fuck Off Sword says. “Keep your distance.”

Wyll, hands raised, voice soft, says, “We’re but travelers. We saw the carnage outside and came to see if anyone needed aid.”

Oh, he’s good at this. Maybe he should be y’all’s leader. Or, judging from the squint on Lae’zel and the slight lip curl on Astarion, maybe that wouldn’t work out so well.

“Travelers?” Fuck Off Sword says. Then, “Yes, we’ve grave injuries to tend to, but the tollhouse is safe enough for now. It’s under Tyr’s protection.”

Tyr. You’ve heard that name. It takes a few seconds ruffling through mental files, but there it is. Norse god. Guy has one hand.

“You serve Tyr?” Wyll says, brightening.

How the fuck is a viking god known here?

“Yes. We are paladins in his service, sworn to bring justice to those who need it. But there are many in need, and few of us.”

The halfling still has y’all in her sights. A twitch of movement inside a door under an inner balcony reveals another woman lurking, watching you.

A god of justice. That rubs you the wrong way. Justice by who? Or on what grounds? Too many people do terrible things for that they call justice. The only ones who ever seem to actually get it are already rich and powerful. And usually, it’s at the expense of everybody else—only time somebody with money or status ever gets convicted of anything, it’s when they fucked over somebody with more money or status.

You must be frowning. Astarion watches you with a raised eyebrow.

“Later,” you breathe. To Fuck Off, “What happened to the toll collectors?”

Fuck Off wipes his forehead. Dude’s face is mottled with bruises. “All dead before we could get here. And then we were attacked by the pack of gnolls you saw outside.”

Gnolls, huh.

“Quite the feat, taking out one of those,” Wyll says.

Fuck Off nods. “We should have had an easier time of it. It’s our job, after all. But this was our third battle in as many days, and the gnolls weren’t alone. They were led by a creature, an infernal devil we’ve been dispatched to kill.”

A bolt seems to lance through Wyll. His cheery eye twinkle vanishes, entire posture straightening. “A devil?”

“Aye. She’s in the shape of a tiefling woman with one horn. She’s slaughtered countless refugees. Butchered an entire family last night. We’ve been on her trail for days, but we’re now too injured to move.”

Wyll’s fists clench. “Do you know which direction she went?”

Fuck Off looks at Wyll; really looks at him. Nods slowly. “She can’t be far. We dished out as we were served as best as we could. She’ll be licking her wounds nearby. I’d say to follow the carnage. Are you pursuing her?”

“I am. I’m sworn to return her damned soul to Avernus.”

Fuck Off all but sags. Closes his eyes and sighs. “Thank the Lord of Justice. Here.” He unsheathes his stupid fucking sword—big bitch is almost as tall as you are. “It’s all I have. The Sword of Justice, blessed by Tyr. I’ve wielded it since I swore my oath. It’s yours, if you stop her. End her slaughter. Should you bring me her head, Tyr will consider her many crimes repaid.”

Something ain’t right. Giving that stupid sword away? Isn’t that some knight kinda bullshit? Keeping it and all? And “bring me her head” is a bit villain monologue-ish.

Wyll simply nods, turns to y’all with steel in his gaze. “Let’s go.”

The halfling and Kitchen Lurker still watch you with drawn weapons. Something really does not feel right, here.

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#feeding alligators fic #these two shitheads #bg3 fic #astarion fic #astarion #tavstarion #astarion x tav #plus size tav #demisexual tav #slow burn

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