#i love how it went from sweet sentimental ones and then fell into whatever the fuck ass patrol is
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violestars · 5 months ago
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𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to best friends to nothing au, where rejecting your confession is worth more than the pain of infecting your perfect image with his sinful existence.
𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: not proof read, !!only male readers!!
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: yandere-ish?,maybe ooc, mention of religion, implied homophobia, angst no comfort, just depressing.
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2
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Your childhood friend is a rather confusing fellow, to the point where one would think his significant other, if he ever has one, is the type to do riddles for fun. You also love riddles but moreover, you love him. Can anyone blame you? You were consumed by these feelings in your undeveloped mind. Seven was the age you fell for Sunday, for the charming boy that is your childhood friend. Maybe it was just some puppy love between two foolish kids but no one can explain the bubbling excitement in your stomach whenever a barely visible pout was drawn on his face, whenever he uses sugar coated words to kindly ask others to leave you two alone or how his clinginess to you was shown so slyly. You were an equal to Sunday and it has left a sweet taste on your tongue till this day.
As you grow older, your mind started to question this fondness for him. You were taught love doesn't need any explanation but you aren't dumb, there are always reasons behind everything. Even the unknown comfort, warmness one could find in another is also a reason. You knew that because you have experienced it with Sunday but that wasn't your concern, for now at least. Deep down you knew this love for the other male wasn't merely a mystery, your relationship did not belong in those cheap romcoms you two would binge on a sunday night. Was it more evident on the day you went crying to him about your religious mother? Was it because of the warm hands that traced your cheeks, causing you to lean into such softness as he teased you with a coo? How you wished he could repeat his supposedly sin against his perfectionist family's belief was the attraction to the same gender, how the boyish smirk once he admitted how good rebellion feels.
School isn't your strongest suit and you beat yourself up for that, it also didn't help knowing your insecurity enabled the hatred from others. From family to friends, even strangers, their greatest gift to you was just pitiful stares. Sunday was different though, the soft smile that never fails to comfort you, the warm embrace of the only friend you can lean on, he was truly a breath of fresh air throughout suffocating days of school. The only subject you were good at is literature but the skills you've gained failed to form a clear answer to why your best friend has never doubted you. Asking him yourself only made the progress more complicated for both your mind and heart, as he flicked your head and told you about how much he worried more about your efforts than some silly printed texts.
“Your mind is built from poetry, not numbers, my little train-wreck.” You remembered his soothing voice right beside your ear, ignoring his ways with words and how it shaded your tear-stained canvas a light red, you let out a weak chuckle to lighten the mood.
“And yours is built of riddles. I'm not stable enough to solve one right now, Sun.” Your lighthearted response only brought him to laughter, a smile now placed onto your face as you silently hoped he would drop whatever sentimental words he just thought of since it was already as awkward as it could be. Who in their right mind would ask their best friend to climb through the bedroom window just because regrets were hitting too hard at 3 am? The guy has a controlling family for god's sake.
“You let people treat you so poorly just because of a subject, or it is everything about you throws them off. Why, though? You might think you're weird but I feel like you're just performing. A spectacular show that doesn't meet its audience, so desperately wants to be heard.”
As you thought you couldn’t drown yourself in thoughts of him further, this only deepened it. How you wondered if he actually has a third eye, silently guilding your thoughts to their respective docks. In your mind, he is the epitome of elegance, sometimes you wonder if the word is made specifically for him. Sunday is just perfect, while in one way he was expected to be due to being the adopted son of such a high status family, you felt like he doesn't even have to try. He handled stressful situations with ease, he joked it's you who taught him so with your antics. You two are the polar opposite, yet it felt like two puzzle pieces finding each other, different notes that falls in tune. You wondered how he tolerated everything throughout the years, not that you were complaining, it was just your anxiety often questions the authenticity of this friendship but as his hand cradled your face, the usual smile reserved for only you entered the view, you knew the dreams about him were real because Sunday adores you.
Unfortunately, your dreams crashed. You mentally cursed him for ruining everything, but it was not his fault he couldn't reciprocate those feelings, it was not his fault he is destined for greatness and you are the loser that existed. You knew you were being petty but it hurt how everything turned out to be a cacophony in disguise, how you two favored the full moon that night like the way you favored each other. Well, the way you favored him. Sunday wouldn't know all these shameful thoughts, you only nodded at his kind refusal with choked breaths after all. His frown only deepened once he noticed how tears sharp as the finest blade threatened to fall from your eyes and slice through his heart, but he didn't say anything. It hurts that your feelings were treated like a slipped word, a dumb accident, by both you and mostly him.
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He knew you're worried, he was trained to be attentive to every change to his surroundings yet here he was, hands in a tight grip like how his thoughts were tied together in a messy knot. Sunday has been avoiding you, not right after the night of your confession though, he wasn't that cruel but he was evil enough to do it after reassuring you, hoping you would not throw away such unshakable friendship. Reason was, Sunday didn't know why he couldn't accept your love, he should have trust in every card he played, that was what they taught him.
It just tasted bitter. He isn't a saint, he hoped you also knew that, his mouth is filled with lies and his existence needs to be soaked in soap. In other words, Sunday is a freak of nature. Him and his sister were adopted to a rich family after the passing of their parents. Sadly enough, he still felt like nobody's son, his every step reminds him of walking on fragile ice under the threatening gaze of his so-called guardians but he still walks anyways. His sister, Robin, has her own dreams to fulfill and no one will dared to rewritte her role into another plaything for the Gods. That's why Sunday will carry all the burdens, the responsibility that will never be put onto Robin's freely spread wings and he works hard to keep it that way.
Sunday lived in this facade that is made of others' desires, he was a trapped bird that pretends to be an eagle, he felt like the strongest piece but never the mastermind. Unlike him, his darling was the salvation humanity carved for all their miserable life, you were the living proof that the lord heard his songs. You slowly metamorphosed into his only God though, Sunday believed his schemes were always concealed because he worshiped you. Sunday believed you didn't exist because he was only worthy of your afterimage. You were and are his 'father', his entire universe. He shamefully found himself praying to your name against the family's knowledge, images of your beauty embroidered in his mind rather than any flight of fancy.
But how Sunday loathed himself, how pitiful is he if everyone were starting to lead their own life yet he was still following a script, how unfortunate is he if the boy of his dreams felt like the vast sky from his cage. Why does one feel deep disgust within but still mindlessly follows the same path? He wanted to fly upward, to feel your touch but the sky is unreachable and so is you. Sunday knows his love for you like the back of his hand, it's more than the platonic feeling towards his sister and the ambition towards a perfect future, it's the only thing the family didn't plant into his mind at such a young age. His love for you felt like the only thing he could freely express.
You knew he wished to live in a dreamscape, where he would generate happiness for the unfortunates but you don't know this dreamland of his sprouted from the purest of love for you. Those troublesome worries won't reach you there, he swore upon his life that he would shield you away from this brutal world in your new home. You only laughed at his silly delusion though, you never wanted to live in a lie and he knew that clearly. Sunday envied that part of you, he detested how strong you are despite all attempts to drag you down but maybe that's what confirmed his feelings towards you.
You were able to confuse Sunday in the best way possible. You could sob about how ugly you are, complain about your failure of a life and hatred for reality but in the end, you didn't mean it. You wanted to live for the imperfect tomorrow, you wanted to erode a stone that is your destiny with him, with Sunday. Yes, that's what you are. So imperfectly beautiful as he's perfectly fake. That's why he would push you away, as unreasonable as his actions were, he will not taint your future and dirty your determination, this kaleidoscoping pain shall never reach your ears. Sunday doesn't want anyone to find out you're his weakness, he doesn't want to acknowledge you're the sweet reality to his pained dream. He was happily in your shadow even if he could catch a glimpse of your performance.
Sunday loves you so he will let you go.
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© art by @/Ceoretkr on twt
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redvexillum · 4 months ago
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Alastor baking you cookies because its your birthday and they come out tasting just like your grandmothers old recipe your family lost when she went missing. While you guys are eating them Rosie comes in and asks about them and he says he made this recipe when he was alive and stole a family cookbook from a victim he ate.
I was sleep deprived and totally misread your ask and added a lot of my own flair to this and ended up writing whatever this is. I almost followed your request to the tee - "almost" being the operative word. Basically I wrote smut. Don't ask me how. XOXO, RedVexi 💋
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A/N: I am contemplating on a part two (plot heavy), but as it stands now, this is a one shot.
SUMMARY: Alastor, the love of your life with an insatiable need when it comes to your flesh.
TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, fluff if you really squint super hard, alastor is in hell for a reason, blood kink, implied cannibalism, established relationship, possessive/obsessive love, p in v, love at first bite
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You never imagined meeting the love of your life in Hell. The mere thought would have your family doing somersaults in their graves – if they weren’t already in Hell or Heaven themselves. Yet here you were, surrounded by the strange beauty of the underworld.  
Fireflies, glowing like tiny flickering embers, danced around you, their soft light wrapping you and your love in a shimmering embrace. The marshy grass beneath you sank under your weight, while tall, gnarled trees bent over, casting a long shadow in the dim light. The distant chorus of croaking frogs and chirping crickets echoed the bayou you loved when you were alive.  
It filled you with warmth that the demon – the man – you fell for shared that sentiment. The earthy, musky scent in the air brought back memories of summers spent trekking to your grandmama’s cottage. But those sweet memories quickly turned bitter as you recalled the last moments you had with her.  
“Focus on me, my dear,” came the crackling, layered voice of Alastor. His eyes, glowing red like the fires of Hell, burned into you. The sharp points of his claws traced a slow, deliberate path from your hip up to your sides, before he stretched his arms out to clasp your wrists. He brought your hands to frame your face, his imposing form looming over you.  
Your eyes roamed over his features, taking in the twitch of his big, fluffy ears atop his head each time your breath hitched. His large, unblinking eyes tracked every tremor, every shudder that wracked your body. Whereas the most intimidating feature of him, his teeth – his sharp, dangerous teeth – glistened with saliva as he trapped you beneath him, bare and vulnerable.  
Lowering his head, his grip around your wrists tightened as his tongue laved against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He moaned in a depraved tone that would scandalize the ladies of your time. The sound he made was reminiscent of when he had a particularly delightful time eating a hunk of fresh Sinner’s meat in Cannibal Town.  
His hot tongue continued to suckle, as if trying to drink in the blood pumping quicker and quicker beneath the thin layer of your skin.  
Heat and pressure lanced through you, coursing down every nerve ending before igniting in your core. Your breath came out in louder gasps from each suck, urging Alastor to bring his hips closer to your aching centre until you couldn’t tell where you ended, and he began.  
“Mhm,” he hummed, “patience, darling,” he murmured, trailing kisses up your neck, leaving a cool trail along the edge of your chin before hovering close to your lips. “All good things must be savoured, love,” he grinned, as if the very word ‘love’ was the funniest joke he had ever heard in all layers of Hell.  
Stifling your whimper, you closed your eyes, trying to endure Alastor’s relentless teasing. Lovemaking with him was a torment of pleasure, his games designed to push you to the brink until your eyes watered from the unbearable barb of desire that prickled before sinking a thousand sharp claws into you.  
When you reached that pinnacle, sobbing for relief, Alastor’s red, intense eyes would nearly lose focus as he savoured your expression. He would then take you with a fervour as if it were his last act before his final breath.  
His love, if it could be described with one word, would be: voracious.  
His hands and body immobilized you, leaving you to writhe under the weight of his control and desires. He pressed the shaft of his hardened cock right up against the lips of your entrance. You almost cried, desperate to grind against him to relieve the pressure, the throbbing, the heat that built steadily inside you without any sign of granting you reprieve.  
A whimper escaped your lips, causing his ears to twitch, before he groaned against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath came in short bursts, his body trembling before he finally relented. Pressing, pressing, and pressing against your core, grinding and coating his cock with your essence.  
“Al-Alastor,” your voice, thin and wispy, barely made it past your throat, “p-please?” Your pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears. Alastor’s muscles seized, and he drew back, the grin on his face slowly splitting past his cheeks.  
“Please, what?” his lips curled with wicked delight as his eyes danced with amusement.  
Despite being with him for over half a century and sharing your body in an act of union for hundreds of nights and mornings, you could still feel the heat blistering your cheeks.  
Trembling, you fought against his grip around your wrists, but he pressed your arms down, letting the soft, marshy grass embrace your form. You wanted to embrace him, feel the warmth of his chest against yours, feel the thrum of his heartbeat pounding as he continued to ravage you.  
“Most improper, a lady must not act like some wanton whore in front of an unmarried man,” your grandmama’s voice echoed in your ears. Yet, despite both you and he being unmarried and sinning in front of the Lord by indulging in each other’s flesh, this was Hell. Here, propriety didn’t matter. Here, you could be true to your desires.  
“Please,” tears of uncontrolled shame pricked your eyes, “I want you, love.” Unlike the way Alastor said ‘love,’ your tongue wrapped around the word, caressing the sound as you infused it with every drop of your feelings that resided within your heart.  
You wondered if Alastor knew how much you meant to him. How much you truly loved him despite both being damned as cursed creatures.
Alastor shuddered an exhalation before his lips touched yours, sinking into your embrace. He melded with you, stretching you to make his presence known.  
A sharp yelp ripped away from your throat as Alastor increased his pace, his hips slapping against your core. The wet, sodden mud squelched beneath you, mingling perfectly with the sound of your bodies coming together over and over again.  
His hardened cock bruised the inside of you, each thrust making your body shudder. His forehead drifted lower to rest against your shoulder, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin. His claws freed your wrists, now grasping your hips with a possessive intensity.
In and out. You moaned as your fingers found purchase on the back of his head, clutching his hair tightly. In and out. His cock slide with ease through your dripping arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your core.
The sound of the artificial bayou melted away, replaced by the sounds of your keening and lovemaking. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire. Legs wrapping around his waist, you sobbed as his cock penetrated you, going deeper and deeper with each powerful stroke.
You were so close, the tension coiling tightly within you, and Alastor knew it. He growled like a feral animal, his grip tattooing your skin with the shape of his fingers. He doubled down, fucking you into the ground with relentless fury. His movements were uncontrolled, each thrust a testament to his desire, as he drove you toward the edge.
Your voice, broken in staccato, climbed higher and higher, your peak approaching at dizzying speed. With one particularly hard slam of his hips, your breath was knocked out of you. Head spinning with vertigo, your eyes rolled back as your spine arched upward as if a current of electricity shot through you.  
Your walls fluttered against the molten heat of his cock, clenching tightly around him, beckoning him to join you in release.  
Raising his head, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Warm breath tickled the sensitive nerve as he spoke, his words mingling with his breath. “How sweet your voice is, darling,” he murmured, grinding the front of his hips against your swollen, wet centre.  
“Al - t-too mu-mu-ah!” you managed to choke out before he jerked his hips, kissing the deepest part of you with the head of his cock.  
“Let me taste you, my sweetheart,” he groaned, his tongue licking the same spot he always gravitated towards. “I want to hear you scream my name.” 
If there was one thing that was peculiar with Alastor, it was that he could never finish unless he bit you, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to drink your life’s vitality.
Soft moans filtered through your lips as you lolled your head to the side, like prey on its back, open and submissive. Your neck bared for him to bite you however he pleased. Still, the tremor continued to infect your nerves. No matter how many times he had done this, you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper from escaping as you fidgeted under him. 
“Shh,” he soothed quietly, his cock buried deep within you. “You know you love it when I make you feel this way. Just give into me, darling,” his tone pitched high as he tried to smother away his chuckles. “Let me hear you beg for it,” his words laced with a dark, sinister tone.  
His breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The sensation was a blend of ice and fire, each touch shooting liquid heat through your veins. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the deliberate, slow pace driving you to the brink of madness despite finishing first. Your body responded to his every move, arching into him, craving more.
Always, craving more.  
When his teeth finally sank into your flesh, the pain seared through you. But immediately after, it was followed by a wave of euphoria, a release so intense it squeezed the breath out from you. The contrasting sensations of pain and pleasure intertwined, and you responded by clenching around him tightly.  
Alastor’s grip punctured your skin, his hips moving with a renewed urgency. His growls of satisfaction reverberated through your body, a primal sound that echoed in your ears. You could feel the pull of his lips, the suction as he drew your blood, mingling with the heavy thump of your heartbeat pounding in your head.  
Your lips traced over the letter of his name over and over again. The thick scent of metal blended perfectly with the earthy scent of the bayou.  
Dizzying.
Intoxicating.
Addicting.
“My dear,” he moaned into your skin, “give me more,” his voice a long, drawn-out purr as his pace slowed. A loud exhalation accompanied the throbbing of his cock inside you. He poured into you, filling you to the brim while continuing to suck and consume your essence. 
As his hips slowed to a stop, he stayed buried within you, his tongue meticulously licking you clean of any crimson liquid that escaped your wound. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body going limp as you surrendered to Alastor’s ministrations, letting him savour the moment for as long as he desired.  
His lips remained affixed to your neck, drawing out every last drop, until his cock finally softened and slipped out of you.  
He slowly drew himself up, and you could see the faint stain of your blood shading his teeth as he grinned. Leaning his forehead against yours, he said, “Sweetheart,” in a southern drawl that reminded you of the people from your hometown from bygones past.  
A worm that continued to fester and grow inside you, feasting on your brain matter, squirmed its way through your thoughts. His tone was so familiar, like you’d heard it before, but the memory was shrouded by static, a white noise that covered what your mind was trying to recall.  
When his claws reached your cheek, you knew he was waiting to hear the words you always whispered after every intimate moment you shared.  
“I love you,” you said softly against his lips. He hummed in approval. He never said those words back, but you knew that men were taught to be stoic, as you had seen countless times while growing up.  
He chuckled lightly as he returned your kiss, the saltiness of your blood mingling with the taste of his tongue as it plunged into your mouth. He licked and massaged the sensitive walls inside you, each stroke sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. You felt a small twitch of his cock resting against your cum-soaked inner thighs. 
As he pulled away, his eyes softened, the fierce red glow dimming into a warm ember. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice taking on a rare tender tone. “I have a surprise for you.” 
A well of emotions burst from your heart, flooding you with warmth and gratitude. You showered him with kisses, your lips trailing over his own and across his cheeks. Each kiss was proof of your love, a silent thank you for remembering and cherishing your special day. Despite the passage of countless years, he had never once forgotten your birthday.  
He closed his eyes, his grin softening around the edge as he basked in your adoration. His hands stroked your side, soothing and comforting. The weight of his affection wrapped around you like a toasty warm blanket.  
At that moment, you felt completely and utterly cherished, every fibre of your being attuned to the demon who held your heart in his clawed hands.  
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You sat on the chair, your nerves buzzing with excitement as Alastor sat across from you. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and resting his chin against his hands. His grin widened, eyes squinting with a mischievous glint. Rolling his head slightly to the left, his right hand snapped his fingers. A plate of cookies appeared before you.  
You blinked once, then twice, in sheer disbelief. Alastor had cooked for you before, but as he wasn’t a fan of sweets, he had never once attempted to bake anything for you. The sight of the cookies made your cheeks flush with warmth, and giddy delight filled your heart.  
“Thank you, Al,” you beamed, your smile bright and sincere. You reached for the first cookie on the plate, noticing how it was baked to perfection. You giggled lightly as you weren’t surprised as Alastor did everything perfectly. There was nothing he couldn’t do.  
The rich smell of butter hit your nose first, and you muffled a squeal of delight as you recognized the familiar scents of nutmeg and cinnamon.  
You took the first bite, and your eyes widened. The crunch was perfect, and the taste of times long passed flooded your senses. Tears welled up as you slowly looked at the cookie now bearing your bite mark.  
It tasted like home.  
Gritting your teeth, you swallowed the bite along with your unshed tears.  
You took another bite. 
Memories surged forward – your grandmama stroking your head as you munched on her cookies. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her gentle touch.  
Another bite.  
The memory of her warm smile greeting you at the door, the comforting smell of cinnamon filling her cozy cottage.  
One final bite.  
The image of her packing cookies into your wicker basket to share with your family, knowing full well you would finish the rest as you walked through the bayou.  
Despite the intense desire to sob your eyes out, you chose to laugh instead, wanting to celebrate this moment with happiness and gratitude. You stared at Alastor, your heart swelling with so much love for the man who let you experience your most treasured memories with stark clarity. “Al, thank –” 
Your voice was cut off by a knock on Alastor’s door. It swung open to reveal one of Alastor’s very good friends, Rosie.
“Alastor!” Rosie exclaimed as she strolled in, her dainty fingers covering a giggle. “Oh, you’re with your sweetheart,” she said, her depthless eyes curved with amusement and her sharp white teeth glinted from the dim light. “I won’t take up too much of your time.” 
“Oh, nonsense, Rosie,” Alastor waved his hand, summoning a shadow tendril to drag your chair so you would be sitting right next to him. “Do stay for a chat! It is my sweetheart's birthday, after all! It’ll be a party!” He stretched his arms out theatrically, the room seeming to pulse with his infectious energy, making you laugh from his cute gesture. 
“Is it now?” Rosie’s face lit up with delight. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” 
You smiled brightly in response thanking her as Alastor snapped his fingers and another chair materialized by the table.
Rosie gracefully took a seat across from Alastor, looking down at the plate of cookies and tilting her head, confused. “Didn’t think you would change your taste for sweets now!” she remarked, leaning closer to inspect the cookies.  
Alastor’s hand naturally rested against the top of your thigh, his claws lightly grazing the sensitive skin. Though hidden beneath the table, his touch sent a wave of embarrassment blanketing your body, but you did nothing to push him away. His touch was a peculiar comfort, a reminder of his constant presence in your life.  
“Oh ho!” He laughed, his voice rich and resonant. “This is a gift for my sweetheart, and I daresay, it’s a hit!” 
Distracting yourself from Alastor’s claws slowly drifting closer and closer to your inner thighs, you nodded emphatically. “It’s really delicious!” You glanced over at Alastor, your eyes shining with genuine appreciation. “It’s probably the tastiest cookies I’ve eaten since coming down here!” 
“Oh, you lovebirds,” Rosie giggled as she teased lightly. She picked up a cookie, inspecting it with a curious tilt of her head. “Did you add some special meat into this?” she asked with a dark, mischievous smile.  
Your shoulders jolted up, a chill running down your spine as you looked at the plate of cookies. Alastor knew how you felt about eating other Sinners. He had reassured you time and time again that he wouldn’t push you to indulge in such a macabre practice.  
Alastor laughed boisterously, his hand still smoothing against the top of your thigh. “Oh, heavens no!” he exclaimed. You felt a wave of relief settle within you. “The recipe was from an elderly woman I’ve met in the bayou back when I was alive.” He snickered darkly, his hand climbing up closer to the apex of your thighs. “I wasn’t a fan of her taste, if you know what I mean.”  He waggled his brows, making it clear of the true meaning behind his words.
Rosie tittered in response and you... 
You froze.  
His words slowly sank into the depth of your mind. Your brows knitted together, the warmth that had previously suffused your chest turning icy. Dropping your hands, you grasped Alastor’s hand that was on you, a plea for stability, a plea that you heard wrong.  
“She had a cookbook, I believe it was called...” Alastor hummed, tapping his lips as his eyes rolled upward, trying to retrieve the lost information.  
“Cooking in the Bayou,” you whispered, the words slipping out involuntarily. It was a book your grandmama cherished, filled with recipes passed down from generation to generation. 
The sharp snap of his fingers shattered the frigid air, his smile morphing into a sinister grin before your very eyes. “That’s right!” he confirmed; his voice filled with eerie delight.  
He didn't ask how you knew the name of the cookbook.
The rest of Alastor’s and Rosie’s conversation drowned in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Alastor. Your gaze fixated on the plate of cookies as your stomach churned with nausea.  
His hand, heavy on your thigh, continued its ministrations, gentle strokes as he laughed and talked with Rosie.  
You were on autopilot, politely nodding and smiling, pretending to hear the words that came out of their lips. Yet, your mind buzzed with the same white noise that had plagued you for years, ever since you first heard Alastor’s southern drawl peeking out from beneath his radio-static filter.  
The static grew louder and louder, engulfing your thoughts until you felt as if you were entering a void. And then, as if tearing through the very fabric of your reality, the words that had been lurking in the shadows of your mind finally broke free. 
The pupae of truth that had writhed within your consciousness finally transformed, bursting through its thin membrane. Clarity washed over you, harsh and undeniable.  
Every fond memory, every tender moment, every laugh shared with him now felt like a cruel joke.  
Rosie’s laughter echoed hollowly in your ears, a distant and mocking sound. Alastor’s touch now felt like a brand, burning into your skin. The room seemed to spin around you, the walls closing in as the weight of the truth threatened to crush you.  
Alastor’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he continued his conversation, oblivious to the turmoil that was shredding apart your sanity. He turned his head to face you when he noticed you now openly staring at him. He smiled at you, his grip on your thigh tightening.  
Alastor was the man who had killed and eaten your grandmama. 
Alastor was the man who had killed you.  
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☎️ Calling all Vexi's Fawners ☎️
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transmascanakin · 4 months ago
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For the varmitech bro au
1. Does Martin remember Chris? Does he know how he could've/should've looked like?
2. How brainwashed is Chris? How much does he actually believe?
3. Do the Kratt parents take any role in the au?
4. Can we get more Tortuga crew??? How does Martin deal with missions alone, how do the others react to him?
Ty for the ask anon ! Honestly some of these questions are things i originally wanted to include in the explanation post but ended up deleting because i didnt want to make it too lengthy so Im glad to talk about them now!
1. Martin doesnt remember Chris clearly, he has some blurry memories and flashes but its mostly the feelings he remembers if that makes sense. Like how he was close with Chris and loved him a lot, the feeling of fear everyone felt when Chris went missing and the despair when no one could give them closure, how lonely he felt after.
He doesnt really know what Chris could look like, maybe he likes to imagine, but you cant really get accurate answers like that. Also with cases like his you often see detectives constructing images of what the missing kids could look like now years later and I thought about Chris getting one of these done but he probably would only do that if he sorted through everything else because while Martin thinks his brother is alive, Chris firmly believes that he died a long time ago. He doesnt really think the image would be useful
2. Hes half brainwashed and half doesnt remember a lot of things naturally because of a traumatic reaction. What he has been told was that they have been through a traumatic accident (like a car crash) of some kind that damaged his brain temporarily and thats why he barely remembers anything from his early childhood and has some memories that never actually happened (the memories of the Kratt family) and he believes thats true because frankly, he has no reason not to. Maybe he questioned it when he was younger, but as an adult your childhood memories get really blurry (especially if youve been through something traumatic) so he kind of just accepted the car crash excuse to be true. He suspects there's something hes not being told but he doesn't even think of him being kidnapped as a possibility
3. A little, yes ! The reason Martin wanted his brothers case to be investigated again was actually because of how bad it affected his parents even after 20 years, which is just the sad reality of missing child cases. This part is unfortunately not that well developped yet, but maybe the Kratt brothers father fell really ill and Martin was worried hed have to pass away without knowing what happened to Chris, or maybe they got divorced after not being able to move on from the incident evem after all that time, ill have to think about it but whatever happened motivated Marin to contact detective Chris.
Either way I do have 2 scenes in my head that include atleast one of them ! The first one is where Chris and Martin go back to Martins childhood home to search the area again, and they briefly talk to mama Kratt who still lives here, and she takes one look at Chris with a mothers eye and thinks "wow he looks exactly like Chris" and although she doesnt believe its actually him she does think its some sign from the universe or idk something sentimental !! I just rhink itd be sweet of her. I also think itd be interesting from the pov of Chris because this is a maternal figure who treats him really nice and he just cant help but notice how different his mom is from Martins yk sad feelings...
Also Chris gets to reunite with his parents after everything goes down :)
4. Hell Yeah!!
Martins missions here are a bit more professional as he doesnt really have anyone to goof around with but he still has fun because he gets to gush about animals to the team.!! (He definitely wishes he had someone with him out in the field) Also i guess the villains are also interesting here because dealing with them alone causes confrontations to drag out, and they also become harder and more serious, especially with Zach as he got a big advantage with 'the crawler'. Aviva does jump in to help a lot but shes a bit limited because at this point she hasnt finished making her own cps yet (this might become relevant later i havent decided yet.)
In the last part I assume you were asking about how they feel about Chris, and they do meet a lot while Martin and Chris are working on the investigation, and Koki actually helps them a lot with her computer skills. The crew also grows pretty close to Chris, i mean he kinda just clicks with them, and he latches onto them a lot as he hasnt really had proper friends before. Like ever. Basically theyre just found family i love them. !!!
Sorry for making this so long haha I just love talking about this au... I hope these answers satisfied!
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lumiolivier · 3 months ago
Text
Dried Ink
Series: My Hero Academia
Chapter: One Shot
Word Count: 1568
Rating: General
Pairing(s): Inko Midoriya/Hisashi Midoriya, maybe BakuDeku if you squint hard enough.
A one shot of how the story could've ended.
Things had finally settled down.  The dust from the war had come to its end.  All was…Well, there were some left standing.  And they had themselves to thank for it.  Along with the help of a few pros.  Some felt that sentiment more than others.  And within their chests all beat the hearts of heroes.  After the war was over, Nezu had decided that perhaps it’d be best for the UA students who had just fought in a war they didn’t ask to fight in to have a little time off.  And of course, Izuku Midoriya, being the Mama’s boy he is, went straight home.  He couldn’t leave his mother worried anymore.
“Mom?” Izuku walked in with the nice little Bakugo boy from down the road trailing behind him, “I’m home!”
“Izuku!” Inko came barreling from the living room and practically tackled her baby in the door.  Because Izuku had been out of the hospital for a couple days.  A good sneeze would send him back.  Why not? “I’m so happy to see you, baby…”
“It’s good to see you, too, Mom…” Izuku murmured into his mother’s shoulder.  As bone crushing as it was, he wasn’t going to fight her.  He loved seeing his mother happy again. 
“You ok, Izuku?” Katsuki looked down at him, offering a hand.
“Yeah,” Izuku gladly accepted as he pulled himself back to his feet, “I’m good, Kacchan.  I think.”
“Katsuki…” Inko held out her arms, “Don’t think you’re walking away from me.”
“Of course not,” Katsuki fell into Inko’s arms, melting in her warmth, “It’s good to see you, too, Auntie.”
“I’m so happy you’re both here!” Inko could hardly hold herself together, “I’m going to go make some tea.  You two want anything?”
“We’re good,” Izuku shot her down, making his way to the couch.  His body ached and all he wanted was somewhere comfortable, “But thank you.”
“You picked a good time to come around again,” Inko smiled, pouring herself some tea, “Because I have a little surprise for you.”
“For me?” Izuku wondered, “Mom, you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”
“Who said I went through any trouble?” Inko sat in her chair, looking over at Katsuki leaning against the wall, “You know, Katsuki, you’re more than welcome to sit down.”
“I laid in a hospital for three weeks,” Katsuki pointed out, “I’ve been forced to take it easy.  Trust me.  I’m alright, Auntie.  I’m good with standing for a while.”
“Alright,” Inko let it go, shuddering at the thought of her boys in the hospital.  At the days when she wasn’t allowed to visit.  At the days where she wouldn’t hear a word from the doctors, “But can we not bring up the H word?  I’d really appreciate it.”
“Fine by me,” Katsuki agreed.
“I can do that, too,” Izuku nodded, “So, what’s my surprise, Mom?”
“I can’t tell you,” Inko beamed, “Or that would ruin it.  We have someone very special coming who should be here any minute.”
“Is it All Might?” Izuku asked, “Because I just saw him the other day.  He says to say hi, by the way.”
“That’s sweet of him,” Inko melted inside, “He really is a good man, that Toshinori…”
“Hey, Mom,” Izuku bit the inside of his cheek, bracing himself for whatever came next, “When I was training with All Might…And he’d come and visit you sometimes…Nothing ever…Happened with you two, did it?”
“With Toshinori and me?” Inko cocked her head.  Until she figured out what her baby was trying to say, “Oh, Izuku, honey, no.  Nothing ever happened with us.  Toshinori and I just had a friendship.  Besides, I’m still married.  I wouldn’t do that.”
“Um…Auntie…”
“Shut it, Kacchan…” Izuku shot him a quick glare, knowing what words were about to come out of his mouth.
“It’s not All Might,” Inko assured him, “It’s someone else.”
“Well,” Izuku thought back, “I’m pretty sure Mr. Aizawa’s still in the assisted wing of the Hospital.  All our classmates are back home.  Who’s coming over?”
“Inko?” a voice called from the front door, “Is he here yet?”
“In here, sweetheart,” Inko couldn’t smile any bigger. 
And Izuku’s head whipped around so hard, he could hear his neck snap.  A man stood in the kitchen with a grocery bag and put it on the counter.  One that Izuku hadn’t seen in a very, very long time.  He wasn’t sure what to say.  He wasn’t sure what to do.  He could barely formulate a thought.  But he could manage to choke one word out.
“…Dad?”
“No shit…” Katsuki gasped, “He actually has…”
“Izuku…” the man clutched his chest, “Look at you…You got so big…”
“Dad!” Izuku threw himself into his father’s shoulder and hugged him tight, “You’re home!  I knew you’d come back!  Everyone always said you were gone for good and you started a new life in America and you had a new family and you abandoned us because I didn’t have a quirk and that made me not good enough to be your son, but you’re here and you’re back!”
“I’m back, Izuku,” Hisashi Midoriya had finally come home to his wife and his son, who was beyond lucky to be alive, “I’m so glad you’re ok.  I heard about the Meta Liberation War here and…Well, when I saw you were the one leading the charge…I couldn’t have been prouder.  I told everyone at work that was my boy.  And my boy was the one to lead all those pros into the biggest battle the world has ever seen.  And you won…You won, Izuku.”
“I sure did, Dad…” Izuku wept in Hisashi’s shoulder, “We won…I couldn’t have done it alone, but we did it…WE saved the world.”
“Hold on,” Katsuki chimed in, “You’re really him?”
“And you must be Katsuki,” Hisashi smiled a bit.
“You can call me Dynamight,” Katsuki scoffed at him.  There’s no way this guy is Hisashi Midoriya.  And if he is, he’s got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here after being gone so long.  He’s got a lot of explaining to do.
“Dynamight?” Hisashi thought back, remembering the name from the news, “Hold on…I thought you were…”
“Dead?” Katsuki rolled his eyes, “Yeah.  So did I.  It didn’t agree with me.  And here I am.  Now, back to you.  Where the hell have you been?”
“Katsuki!” Inko hushed him, “That was rude.”
“I think I have every right to ask,” Katsuki stood his ground, “Because I know Izuku’s not going to.”
“I told you already, Kacchan,” Izuku settled him, “He was working overseas.”
“And I was working overseas,” Hisashi confirmed, “Sit.  I’ll explain everything.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Katsuki snapped at him.
“So, Dad,” Izuku sat back down, leaving an open spot on the couch, “What were you doing in America?”
“I’ve been a Mangaka for the last ten years,” Hisashi explained, “I started working on a series when you were little, Izuku.  Around the time of your quirk appointment.  When your mother and I Found out you were quirkless, naturally, I wasn’t thrilled about it, but we still had you.  Quirk or no quirk.  But I sat in my studio in our old house and started sketching out what you would look like as a pro hero.  I drew you so many times.  I drew you in one of All Might’s hero costumes, but because you were four, it was a little big on you.  I’m glad to see you grew into it…But that led me to think what things would be like if you did become All Might.  If you had a quirk.  And I drew that. 
“One panel led to a couple storyboards.  A couple storyboards turned into a few manga panels.  And I sent those into my publisher and a rough draft of a storyline.  And she said to come into her office that morning.  And it ended up getting serialized.  I wasn’t expecting it to get so popular so fast.  And I could feel it.  The fan base, although very passionate about what I was writing and drawing about you, were a lot to handle.  I didn’t want you and your mother getting caught up in the crossfire.  So, I moved to America to work on it some more.”
“Really?” Katsuki kept his defenses up, “That’s your lame ass excuse?  Look, I’ve been in the manga trenches for a long time.  I’ve never heard of any mangaka named Hisashi Midoriya.”
“And you’re not going to,” Hisashi went on, “I wasn’t stupid.  With my series getting popular, I wanted to keep my family protected.  I wanted to make sure they weren’t going to be the targets of the crazy side of the fan base.  Not to mention, myself.  They didn’t need to come looking for me either.  So, I wrote under a pen name.  I kept sending Inko money to make sure she and Izuku could keep this apartment and so Izuku could go to UA and so everything was taken care of here.  But now…That baby is all done.  I’m not writing anymore.  And I think I’ll come back here to stay for a while.  That is, if you’ll have me.”
“Of course!” Izuku wrapped himself around his father’s arm, “By the way, Dad, you said you wrote under a pen name, right?”
“That’s right.”
“What was it?” Izuku asked, “Maybe Kacchan has heard of you.”
And Hisashi simply smiled, “Kohei Horikoshi.”
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randomnameless · 11 months ago
Text
At this point several people wondered if AG had different writers from the SB/GW team and... well, I can't exactly disagree lol
Felix asking the right questions - asking if they can trust Claude. Annette doesn’t trust Claude. Ingrid neither, but doesn’t think he’s as bad as Annette and Felix. Gustave and the Knights of Serios are keeping the Alliance in check
I know he hasn't done a thing (well...) on this route to warrant that much scrutiny, but damn if coming from GW and seeing the Faerghan peeps have doubts about him feel so earned, lol.
Of course we will have devoted fans using the uwu racism card, but it's still telling something that Claude, in the other routes, allies with Supreme Leader, and here, doesn't have a formal alliance with the Kingdom...
Once again, people asking if Dimitri can kill his step-sister. But Dimitri’s like, guys, I killed Rufus. I can handle it
Fratricide is BaD -
Except when you are in GW and Nader doesn't give a crap about Claude basically killing his half-brother and fellow Prince, and in SB, parricide is a virtue, at least to Hubert lol
a letter from Patricia? If it doesn’t have new info, why bring it up? Something disturbing. Confirmation she was always bad. Yep, she helped plot Duscur. I mean, we all guessed she was an awful human being, so now we know. Like, I don’t blame Patricia for missing Edelgard or whatever, but setting your child step-son to get butchered alongside tons of other innocent people is straight-up evil.
But she was so desperate to see her daughter... who still doesn't seem to give a fig about her.
I swear between Sothis not giving a fuck about Rhea who misses her a lot and Edel not giving a fuck about her mom who missed her a lot, this verse has an issue writing mother-daughter relationships lol.
Hopefully we can still use the "b-but Slithers" and Cornelia as an excuse, or maybe Patricia/Anselma is the person whom Edel got her "oh I planned this but I didn't think it would be that awful. Anyways, what next?" reaction in Remire?
Dimitri’s worried about Shez, and she’s opening up to him. It’s pretty sweet. It’s also so sweet how much they trust Shez even if she doesn’t trust herself.
Remember how Shez had to earn her allies's trust in SB?
I swear, AG and SB are written to be polar opposites at times.
Shez would rather die than kill her friends 😭 
Save Shez, they were infected by the evil and backwards "I want to save my friends even if that must kill me" ridiculous cultural notion! Rememer, Chivalry and dying to protect your loved ones is BaD, as Claude and Edel say!
Shamir just went up in my books. She said as a mercenary she’ll get hired to kill anyone, but prefers killing bad guys, like the Empire. I love it. She hasn’t said anything like this in GW or SB.
This makes all the more ridiculous her decision to stick with the Empire in SB, given the, uh, conditions to recruit her. I like Shamir as a concept, aka someone who is a mercenary and pretends to enjoy her attachment free life, only looking for the next job being very #cool and #badass.
But here, in some CF quotes (iirc she says when she dies trying to retake the monastery that she acted on sentimentality which is unlike her...) , she actually enjoys being part of the KoS, let it be to rekt bad guys, do "partner things" with Catherine or, just, have allies who rely on her and whom she can rely on.
A shame Nopes retconned Alois to oblivion, and forces Shamir to be on GW by default so we can't see more of that side of her, and instead we're left with a #cool #badass and pretty #ungrateful character - idk if you triggered them, but her quotes against Cyril are... something, really.
seeing Shez want to just play and have fun with the Blue Lions.
Why don't we see anything similar with the other two houses lol? Oh, I know, it must be because Shez fell for the stupid and backward Faerghus culture that promotes and values camaraderie and friendship - or, in another house, because they would have to wait for their turn behind Hubert, Monica, Doro and the rest of the court to spend time with Supreme Leader... (since you've ended her route, you know how it ends, right?)
Mercedes and Dimitri talk about how open minded the church is and give credit to the overall teachings (lamo, eat shit, Claude) Mercedes is grateful to Dimitri to taking in the Central Church because it helped the village out. It’s why she brought him there, so he could see the good that comes from protecting the church.
This support hurts given how a later "support" can be unlocked between Dimitri and a certain someone...
AG is basically having characters tell and show (?) what the Church does, but SB and GW have characters ranting at the Church for putting mayonnaise in their sandwich, or for having created human greed, and we're supposed to nod.
I won't say we have different writers because that'd be presuming too much, but... let's say in the other two routes, you aren't really supposed, imo, to think about what you're doing.
Sylvain knows painting styles (he knows it’s not a common Faerghus style). But ofc Sylvain is interested in how pretty the woman in the painting is lamo. He’s curious about the woman’s identity, but it doesn’t seem in a fuck boy way,
I love how the fact Miklan's mom being from Adrestia isn't just a thrown away line here or there, but it is referenced through this support - it helps tie some random plot points, and actually paint a much more complete picture of Fodlan than "uwu culture bad let's invite my rampaging buddies" or whatever happens in SB.
Seeing Edel and her gang we're supposed to think Adrestia hates Faerghus a lot and would never want to associate with their lot, but in AG we learn that Rhea's monastery is a dating app some Adrestians could become friendly to people from Faerghus, even marry and live, as far as we know, happily with them without bemoaning their culture or whatever makes the Edel gang rage at Faerghus.
It also gives more tidbits about worldbuilding, aka, at some point, Adrestia didn't hate the CoS and some of their artists painted, well, stuff for the CoS!
Which of course raises the issue of why Supreme Leader didn't face any civil war or internal dissenssions when she declared war on the CoS, FE16 tells us she used propaganda, but we know Hubert so... maybe in FE16 potential rebels were turned in demonic beasts?
As for Sylvain finding that totally random woman in the painting pretty in a non fuckboy way - I thought it was a nice throwback at a mention he had in FE16 ; granted, Ignatz's Nabatean radar seems to have caught something so...
Yuri trusts Seteth with his crest secrets (partly because he knows Seteth already knows, and partly bc Yuri has taste)
Or we could also guess that Yuri being - even if the DLC events didn't happen - close to Rhea or at least one of the few people on Fodlan who doesn't hate her because the plot commands so, he might feel "safe" with Rhea's right hand man ?
of course we couldn't have yuri talk to rhea in this game bcs she has no supports...
Seteth encourages Yuri to cherish his crest and the power it brings So is Yuri the son of an elite or something?
In his backstory, Yuri and his mom helped a kind old man, the kind old man "saved Yuri's life" afterwards when Yuri became very sick (remember the Faerghan plague?) and then Yuri got his crest. Does it remind you of someone?
I like how Seteth can finally tell someone to cherish their crest and the power it brings, without having the traditional "uwu crust system uwu" nonsense - given what crests are to him...
It's this more -uh - questionable side of Flayn that keeps her from being a one-note, overly sweet character. I love it
Yep! Flayn knows what she wants, and will come up with "schemes" to get it, or at least, sometimes, force her way through, as we can see in her Ignatz support. It's nothing nefarious though, but still fun to note.
So a hostage that grew up in Faerghus is now leading the raid. And Margrave Gautier treated him well even though he felt bitter about Sreng killing his wife.
Meanwhile, in Glorious Adrestia : Petra is compared to an animal and has to learn the language on her own.
Adrestia must conquer Faerghus asap, to bring them new values and get rid of the influence and corruption of the CoS!
Aww, Sylvain is dedicated to reaching peace with Sreng. Of course his dad is harder edged because they killed his wife
And we have a nice parallel in GW! Sylvain hates foreigners who kill and trample lives to invade Faerghus, following in Matthias' footsteps after... Claude killed Matthias because Rhea BaD or something.
Dimitri being more understanding of the Empire nobles who’’ll follow any leader that promises them more land than Edelgard does him and the other Blue Lions He’s thinking from the other’s perspective, how it looks to them, not what it actually is - Claude and Edelgard could never
This is one of the pet-peeves I had in AM during the "parley" scene too, I know they want to show Dimitri being an understanding leader or at least someone who tries to understand and to know why the frick people are invading his land -
In a vacuum, there's nothing wrong with this mindset, I actually like it because you can't stop wars and start to build peace without trying to know why that war started - but we get to play as the morons who are attacking, who are either Make Adrestia Great Again, Rhea BaD bcs she exists or Nader's cultural pillages and rampages with a side dose of "your culture is backwards I must save you from your outdated values".
We don't have Dimitri's reaction upon learning that the war, or at least some people wanted to join this war, because they want more land since they're imperialists and think your people are second rate people, or because Rhea is BaD (well... about that...).
So while it makes him look good in AG and this scene, when we know in GW Nader pillages for fun, what are we even supposed to think? Can you really discuss or come to an agreement with the Almyrans who see Fodlan as a giant treasure to be looted? With Ferdie the Imperialist, or Caspar who foams at the mouth at the prospect of fighting people running and or defending their homes and loved ones?
I love so much that the importance of his friends’ support is stressed so much more in AG
I'd love to hear your thoughts about end of AG Dimitri and end of AM Dimitri, but the Nopes writers said they didn't want to write a story where the characters would end up in a better situation/state than they do in FE16 with Billy's guidance - AG!Dimitri relies on his friends instead of Byleth, sure, the conditions and context are different, but imo, I agree that it felt nice to see a Dimtiri who relies and is supported by his friends in AG compared to AM!Dimitri where his friends cannot reach him, or don't even try... (and Dedue is fridged for reasons).
Manuela’s defeat quote is that she won’t die single. Ngl, glad she just retreated
I still to this day don't understand how she is a SB exclusive, bar to sate Supreme Leader's teacher kink.
I'm high on copium and pretend Manuela is in the Empire but actually a spy, using the opera company and its spectacles to give intel to her old CoS friends. but that's just copium and headcanon :(
Glad they’re bringing up that if they don’t do this, Adrestia will not stop until Faerghus is destroyed
B-But the war will stop if Rhea dies?
Oops, wrong route.
Felix got angry with Rodrigue when he said all the blame for invading will fall on Dimitri
lololol
Rodrigue predicted the state of Fodlan discourse - apparently Dimitri BaD for invading and doing the later things he will do in Adrestia.
Rodrigue says he’s only Dimitri’s retainer, that’s so false. But he says Shez is in a unique spot since she’s a friend first, then he’s her leader.
See the earlier Billy comment and AM in general as a route - is Billy able to sway Dimitri in AM because they are his teacher, not affiliated to Faerghus and a friend before being a "retainer and friend" like Ingrid'n'co?
Rodrigue says though that Shez’s background or powers aren’t what’s important, it’s about who Shez is as a person. I love so much how the Blue Lions keep repeating this idea, that it’s not Byleth’s or Shez’s power. It’s their worth as a person that matter
I love how this messages erases 80% of the "crest system" and "crest bad" spiel from FE16 - that couldn't be voiced too loud, else some route(s?) wouldn't make sense.
Azure Gleam Ch 11
Spoilers below for AG Ch 11.
STORY
RODRIGUE is back. You have no idea how happy I am that he got more screen time (and is now playable!)
Ashe's not happy that some nobles kept their titles after turning coat, but they can't afford the chaos changing things would create right now, but they plan to in the future.
I am living for the Big Dad energy Rodrigue always has.
Do we get to kill Caspar's Dad? Please let me kill Caspar's dad.
Felix asking the right questions - asking if they can trust Claude. Annette doesn't trust Claude. Ingrid neither, but doesn't think he's as bad as Annette and Felix.
Gustave and the Knights of Serios are keeping the Alliance in check.
Once again, people asking if Dimitri can kill his step-sister. But Dimitri's like, guys, I killed Rufus. I can handle it.
Ohh, a letter from Patricia? If it doesn't have new info, why bring it up? Something disturbing. Confirmation she was always bad.
Yep, she helped plot Duscur. I mean, we all guessed she was an awful human being, so now we know.
Like, I don't blame Patricia for missing Edelgard or whatever, but setting your child step-son to get butchered alongside tons of other innocent people is straight-up evil.
Dimitri's worried about Shez, and she's opening up to him. It's pretty sweet. It's also so sweet how much they trust Shez even if she doesn't trust herself.
Honestly, Dimitri and Shez are so cute, as friends or more, it doesn't matter, they have a great relationship.
Shez would rather die than kill her friends 😭 We won't let that happen (it better not happen)
MAP/SIDE BATTLES
Seteth said he trusts me 😭😭😭
Rodrigue got to say two things this time, which means he made up for lost time last chapter.
Ok guys, Shamir just went up in my books. She said as a mercenary she'll get hired to kill anyone, but prefers killing bad guys, like the Empire. I love it. She hasn't said anything like this in GW or SB.
SHEZ & RODRIGUE B
LAMO, omg, I love Shez.
So it starts with Rodrigue taking Shez very seriously as Shez talks about how the war may be over by next winter because she . . . wants to have a snowball fight, like all the Kingdom kids got to do.
It's actually kind of sweet, seeing Shez want to just play and have fun with the Blue Lions.
Rodrigue, of course, love the idea.
And takes snowball fighting too seriously, talking strategy. Of a snowball fight. OMG I love this. I love him.
He'd do full-out battle with Lambert and go with kids.
Rodrigue lost, lamo.
So Lambert would rush into battle alone, and Shez thinks like father like son with Dimitri.
I also love how Rodrigue thinks Gautier is cowardly for laying and ambush for Lambert, but is totally fine with his own sneaking and waiting to strike.
It ended with them getting cussed out by Ingrid's dad for not taking the mountain seriously.
Shez can invite Rodrigue to join in.
Oh, man, I wish I got to see this fight. I can only imagine Felix when he realizes Rodrigue is involved and thinking it's dumb for taking it seriously, then taking it seriously. Ingrid being an absolute tyrant ordering people to follow her strategies. Dimitri scared he'll knock someone's teeth out. Mercedes being absolutely savage. And so on...
DIMITRI & YURI C
Excited for this.
Yuri's told a "funny knight" who's really strong is helping everyone out who sometimes sounds sheltered and obtuse and sometimes not. Yep. It's Dimitri.
Yuri's not happy seeing Dimitri in dangerous allies. Worried about him. But Dimitri wants to learn how the commoners live so he can help them rule better.
OMG, Yuri's like "you don't have an heir," worried about the civil war that will happen if Dimitri dies.
Yuri is determined for Dimitri to live a long and happy life because the people of Faerghus like Dimitri and Yuri likes the commonfolk of Faerghus.
Also love how Yuri points out that if war breaks out, nobles will die, but commoners get slaughtered. Wish he'd tell Edelgard that.
Haha, he says to bring Dedue at least.
OMG, I love Dimitri. He then just asks Yuri to be his bodyguard.
And Dimitri won't ask Dedue because he knows Dedue will just forbid Dimitri from coming, like a nanny, lol.
Yuri's entertained that Dimitri asked him to be a bodyguard.
SYLVAIN & DEDUE B
Dedue is impressed with Sylvain for interacting with a woman like a normal person lamo.
"Don't expect praise for merely doing your job." I love Dedue. That's savage af.
Sylvain was motivated to mature by Felix and Dimitri. He said they're both like brothers, which is why he wouldn't get left behind. I love this group.
Oof, Dedue "had" a sister. And now we're getting to learn about her. 😭 She liked flower crowns and was determined when she set her mind to it.
Dedue wants Sylvain to visit Duscur after the war, to visit her grave together 😭
SYLVAIN & FELIX A
Felix got into a fight with soldiers . . . . because they were making fun of Sylvain.
Felix called it the "worst decision in his life." Of course. Felix being Felix.
Felix didn't tell Sylvain because he was worried about Sylvain hearing the details about what people said about him.
I love the idea of Felix getting into a fist-fight with people insulting Sylvain lamo.
Sylvain thinks he deserves his bad reputation because of who he used to be. Felix challenged why Sylvain didn't change sooner. Sylvain has no defense lol.
Felix is ok with people making fun of Sylvain, but only certain people lamo.
Felix is blushing after saying something nice lol. Now he's pissed at Sylvain. And insulting him. Very typical Felix.
Sylvain says he's 7% more cunning than Felix lamo.
This one did go more into ship bait. I was surprised how un-shippy their C was, but I'm sure Sylvix fans loved this one.
DIMITRI & MERCEDES A
They're traveling to a village together. It's the one Mercedes used to live in. Dimitri likes how calm it is.
Mercie called Dimitri her friend 😭😭
Dimitri claims he's a king's knight lol. He catches himself. Also village woman finds Dimitri handsome. She has taste.
Mercedes and Dimitri talk about how open minded the church is and give credit to the overall teachings (lamo, eat shit, Claude)
Mercedes is grateful to Dimitri to taking in the Central Church because it helped the village out. It's why she brought him there, so he could see the good that comes from protecting the church.
Mercedes plans to show him around the town and introduce Dimitri to her mother and the priest.
Dimitri's nervous lol. Hahaha, Mercie says she'll tell him he's someone "very important" which flusters him lamo.
She made him laugh and smile.
This support was adorable. (and feels like it couldn't possibly be the same writers as SB and GW lamo)
MERCEDES & DEDUE B
Sad they only get one support. Their Houses one was amazing.
Mercedes is teaching cooking. The little girl gets scared of Dedue when he arrives to fetch Mercie.
Poor Dedue frightens children and animals :(
Mercie says lots of the kids are orphans, so they're scared, and that Dedue looks intimidating. She has a plan to make him not look as scary.
I KNEW IT! He's handing out flower crowns. I was going to say it was something with flowers.
Now all the kids love Dedue. Good. He's the sweetest man in Fodlan.
Dedue teaches them how to make the crowns.
Dedue is happy with Mercedes, but Mercie says it was Dedue's kindness who won them over. Of course they both give each other credit.
They both have such strong mom and dad energy.
SHEZ & ANNETTE A
Annette's up late working on music lol. Shez thinks the notes look like bugs lol.
Annette won't sing it though :( Her songs are legendary.
She wants a song that makes people feel happy when they sing it. Very Annette.
She heard the song Shez passed around getting sung by a dying mercenary, who died happy though because they appreciated the song. It made Annette appreciate the song more.
She is such a sweetie.
It's sweet to have a whole support revolve around Annette realizing her songs make people happy and help people. She'd love that.
OMG, I love Annette. Her new song is about a feast, then they go to get more ingredients, and then get into a death battle with a bear. Truly a child of Faerghus.
RAPHAEL & FELIX C
Raphael is drooling over Felix's food, so he gives it to Raphael, and Felix offers to go buy more.
Felix thinks he hears thunder, but it's just Raphael's stomach.
Felix is being nice, lol, insisting Raphael eat some of his food.
But now he's annoyed that Raphael called him a "meat buddy" or a bit. Felix likes the idea of hunting that Raphael suggested.
Raphael is so nice not even Felix can manage to get mad at him.
SYLVAIN & IGNATZ C
Sylvain feels bad because he interrupted Ignatz painting. He wanted Ignatz to look at a painting he brought home.
Sylvain knows painting styles (he knows it's not a common Faerghus style). But ofc Sylvain is interested in how pretty the woman in the painting is lamo.
He's curious about the woman's identity, but it doesn't seem in a fuck boy way, but a curiosity over a favorite piece of art way.
That Sylvain is into art just made him even cooler.
Religious art often has their symbols in the art (and Flayn's is fish lamo, good).
As a major art fan, I love this support adding little tid bits about Fodlan art.
Lamo, Sylvain studied art to impress ladies at first, but now he actually likes it.
SETETH & YURI C
Yuri chatted with a scholar, wanting to learn about the 10 elites because he didn't get a good education.
It's a support to explain how crests came to be and their powers
Yuri trusts Seteth with his crest secrets (partly because he knows Seteth already knows, and partly bc Yuri has taste)
Seteth encourages Yuri to cherish his crest and the power it brings
So is Yuri the son of an elite or something?
FLAYN & SHEZ B
Flayn thinks Shez looks good because she's dirty and that suites her lol. I love Flayn.
Flayn is wearing perfume. Seteth probably doesn't know lamo.
Flayn talks about how perfumes coming in trend shows that even in dark times, it's not all consuming. Very Flayn of her.
We're going trend shopping. She doesn't get to shop often.
Flayn is straight-up making shit up, lamo. She invented that Shez wanted to shop to raise Shez's spirits, not hers.
It's this more -uh - questionable side of Flayn that keeps her from being a one-note, overly sweet character. I love it.
CATHERINE & SHEZ C
Count Charon asks Catherine for more soldiers, but only Dimitri or Rhea could give that order.
Shez didn't know Catherine's family. She stays vague about it when Shez asks about her past.
Catherine, unsurprisingly, says she'd fight for Rhea if had to choose between her or her family.
Catherine asks why Shez is here. Oh, I can pick too - for friends, money, or to fight Byleth. Def picking friends. I think that suits AG Shez best.
Catherine looks happy with that answer.
Oh, I like that, live in a way that makes your past self proud.
ASHE & FELIX B
Their only support.
Oh, Felix is confronting Ashe about how he's a knight working for Dimitri. Should've known it would be about this.
Ashe defends Felix when he calls Dimitri a boar and tiresome lol.
Ashe says Dimitri does his job for him, omg, Dimitri, stop (but that's he's getting better).
Felix is like - you have to steal your job back from him!!! Use force if you have too - I love this, lamo
Dimitri promoted a lot of commoners to be knights, and there were some minor misunderstandings at first, but now no one cares
Felix asks Ashe if he's a noble or commoner, and Ashe is like kinda both actually, which is true
Awww, Dedue comes to Ashe's aids when he needs it (and Dimitri, but Ashe mentioned Dedue too)
And now Ashe is singing Dedue's praises, and ofc Felix insults Dedue, saying that blind loyalty will get him killed
And omg hahaha, Ashe is like that's sweet Felix, that you care about us, I always knew
I love how almost no one takes Felix's tsun seriously. They're all like "aww, look, he's chewing my old slipper!" energy
Ashe putting Felix in his place round 2, I love this. Ashe and Felix is always gold
Felix is like, it's just because more work for me if something happens to you!
Then he's finally nice, telling Ashe he does a good job
ANNETTE & SYLVAIN B
Their only support
This time it's Sylvain who catches Annette singing. Annette seems relieved rather than embarrassed.
Sylvain thinks her song is creepy (covers that, saying creative) and that only Annette could make it (affectionate - maybe)
Why is Annette always singing about swamp beasties?
Sylvain wants a song about something cute instead, so Annette naturally jumps to huge bears lamo
We need an Annette Bernedetta support about finding creepy stuff cute
Annette doesn't seem upset with criticism
Also, this is the second time Sylvain talks to Annette like a person and doesn't really flirt with her, more like siblings vibes it's cute
Annette's next song is even creepier lamo But Sylvain likes it anyways
DIMITRI/RODRIGUE/SYLVAIN PARALOGUE
This one is easy since all 3 are leveled up. I want to do other ones, but I may wait to save some cash lol.
They're up north, so Sreng? Yep.
So they're preparing for a Sreng raid.
So a hostage that grew up in Faerghus is now leading the raid. And Margrave Gautier treated him well even though he felt bitter about Sreng killing his wife. So Miklain's mother?
And now the Sreng hostage is using Fodlan knowledge against them.
Haha, Sylvain was going off about being lazy forgetting his dad was right there lol.
It's cool seeing papa Gautier and Rodrigue together.
The Sreng commander really came across like a dick. Rubbing in Miklain's death, not caring about all the men he got killed.
So did Claude do this in AG too? Incite Sreng? They guess Cornelia and someone from Adrestia too, which could be the case in AG.
Gautier takes credit for the fall. Sylvain got through to the guy apparently.
Dimitri's just happy they share a language now. He would know how important that is since he learned the language of Duscur.
I'm glad they fight over land. It's way more interesting and realistic than whatever the hell they did with Almyra.
Aww, Sylvain is dedicated to reaching peace with Sreng. Of course his dad is harder edged because they killed his wife.
Sylvain being so bent on peace and diplomacy just makes the people who claim he makes sense in CF make even less sense.
I had Shez believe in Sylvain, because AG!Shez is nice Shez.
Sylvain and Dimitri both hate resorting to violence and using warfare first. Both want to avoid it at all cost. I like the future of these two both being important in Faerghus.
Oh, cool, talk between Rodrigue and Matthais. I love the little stories we get of all of them. They were trouble makers lamo. They snuck out the night of the festivities.
Lambert wanted peace with Sreng and Duscur. Dimitri's half-way there, and he and Sylvain are working on the other half.
Gautier now agrees with Sylvain, Lambert, and Dimitri and a pathway to peace.
Aww, Rodrigue advised that he apologize to Sylvain, and he's going too.
Oh, I got the lance of ruin! Cool. Sylvain has his weapon now.
FINAL BATTLE
Not Dimitri being more understanding of the Empire nobles who''ll follow any leader that promises them more land than Edelgard does him and the other Blue Lions
He's thinking from the other's perspective, how it looks to them, not what it actually is - Claude and Edelgard could never
Shez is like, no need to feel guilty, hell yes
Felix is worried about Dimitri, in his very Felix way, meanwhile Dedue is like "we trust you"
I love so much that the importance of his friends' support is stressed so much more in AG.
Oh, I get Constance and Linhardt this battle. Cool.
Felix got lectured by Rodrigue lamo, he wanted to break ranks to chase after Monica
Lamo, Manuela's defeat quote is that she won't die single. Ngl, glad she just retreated.
It's really something that the Blue Lions show way more sympathy towards their enemy than the other routes do. They're the only ones that feel guilty for "invading." When the others are invading.
Glad they're bringing up that if they don't do this, Adrestia will not stop until Faerghus is destroyed.
Rodrigue has such a nice voice.
Felix got angry with Rodrigue when he said all the blame for invading will fall on Dimitri, but then Rodrigue said it's up to Felix to support him through it. This really is Dimilix the route, lamo.
Felix is like, duh.
Why is Shez talking to Rodrigue while it's late. I'm getting flashbacks. He died last time this happened.
They're both worried about Dimitri. And it's cannon that Dimitri falls asleep at his desk. Sooo much fanart of that lol.
Apparently Lambert did the same. Like father, like son.
Lambert had a shorter temper than Dimitri, but are very similar. Unlike Rodrigue and Felix. I get to disagree with Rodrigue there, so I will. Because I think they're more alike than they both think.
Ok guys, we finally got it. Why Felix is miserable outside of AM. He can't live without a great purpose pushing him forward. And in SS, VW, and CF he finds no great purpose, unlike in AM where working with Dimitri towards his version of the future does work.
When Lambert died, Rodrigue struggled to find another reason for being. So he devoted himself to his promise to Lambert, to make sure he sets his won back on his proper path is he loses his way.
Shez feels like Dimitri's been helping her, but she's helping Dimitri too. Like what Rodrigue is doing.
Rodrigue says he's only Dimitri's retainer, that's so false. But he says Shez is in a unique spot since she's a friend first, then he's her leader. Which makes me happy.
More teasing about Shez's origins.
Rodrigue says though that Shez's background or powers aren't what's important, it's about who Shez is as a person. I love so much how the Blue Lions keep repeating this idea, that it's not Byleth's or Shez's power. It's their worth as a person that matters.
Arval just called Rodrigue a wonderful human being. Based.
xxxx
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lesbiancervidologist · 3 years ago
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Jenny, if you had to pick any of the tattoos discussed, what would you pick?
ass patrol.
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narcissiah · 2 years ago
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Build A Bear | Black Noir x GN!Reader
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yo so last week or smth i went to build a bear with my little relatives and when i saw chubby cubby (look it up you wont be disappointed) i fell in love, then i was struck with inspiration. so my chonky teddy bear and i hope you enjoy this lmao
warnings: heavy cursing, SPOILERS FROM S2 but not too specific in the bulleted fic? still be warned. other than that pretty mild, fluffy? yeah fluffy and probably ooc for black noir but whatevs
VAGUE (but still) SPOILER AUTHOR'S NOTE AT BOTTOM OF POST!!!!!!!!! DO NOT READ BEYOND THE ###
when news spread of Black Noir being in critical condition, a lot of internal questions were raised at Vought: who did this? was it an accident? was it on purpose? was it another supe? how can we market off this? etc
once crisis control handled the public nightmare that was social media and news outlets (special thanks to Cameron!), did the flood gates open
in the first few days, there were countless cards and money chip-ins for charity donations that Black Noir advocated for
i mean you could not take a shit without someone thrusting a card in your face and saying, "Wanna write something sweet to Noir so he gets better soon?"
hence came the little lie, "oh, i already got him something with a card. thanks tho"
you worked in the crime analysis department, so you did not have a close relationship with Black Noir personally
but that didn't mean you felt bad; i mean, critical condition? you had to give him something
and people at Vought would easily find out you lied and who knows what would happen then?
there are definitely some snakes in the grass if you know what i mean
but what would you get him? everyone else was giving cards and flowers and balloons. no doubt his hospital room is flooded with all those things
so while you're agonizing over what to get him because god forbid snakes figure out your "white" lie, you're stuck on babysitting duty for a friend's eight-year-old kid one day
while you're not too hip on what eight-year-old kids do in their spare time nowadays, you decide to take them to the ol' reliable of your childhood: the mall
as you both are walking around bored out of your minds do you see the answer to your agony: the holy golden glow of build-a-bear workshop
you have to drag the kid you're babysitting inside, but they dont put up a fight for long when they see a stuffed animal they like
unfortunately, you dont see anything you like, but you buy the kid your babysitting his bear (a frog dressed like Obi-Wan)
At the check out do you see another saving grace: "exclusive customizable bears online! order one today!!"
so the second you drop the kid off and you're at home, you immediately go incognito on your browser
you buy a stuffed (animal of your choice) and dress it up like Black Noir because build a bear is in an obvious partnership with Vought for younger consumer marketability
for the extra hell of it, you buy a "get well soon" shirt bc you thought how cute it would be to put it over the Black Noir getup
for the customization, on all 4 paws do you write: Black (front right) Noir (front left) For (back right) Ever! (back left)
you buy expedited shipping and when it finally arrives, you put on the get well soon shirt over the black noir outfit, but you stop from putting on the black noir helmet
why you didnt put on the helm was beyond you. maybe because you thought the sentimentality was stronger since you're recognizing he's still human beneath the suit??
who the fuck knows, anyway
you ask Ashley to give it to Noir (which took a lot of convincing, and a pricey meal for lunch).
funnily enough, you dont leave a card or any sign the gift was from you
you doubted yourself and regretted your decision because why not
but as long as you got him something with a little more personalization (and therefore make your lie true), you'd live with it
and forget about it eventually lol
fast forward like a few months
Black Noir recovered and had just finished his tour across the country selling his bullet-proof backpacks
you indeed forgot about the bear as time went on
one day you're at work and fucking around on the company computer to pass time when you feel a very warm and very heavy hand on your shoulder
the entire crime analysis department goes gravely silent
*sweatinglikeJordanPeelememe*
you slowly turn in your creaking office chair, and stare into the bottomless abyss that was Black Noir's goggles
he gestures for you talk outside privately (a secondary location? aw hell naw) but you oblige
as you both walk out of the department, the looks your co-workers give you... one of them even salutes you off
oh jeez oh fuck oh jeez oh fuck x100
when you're both outside in the back where there's literally not a single soul in sight, do you apologize
because its Black Noir, and of course he knew that was your gift
"ah jeez, Mr. Noir, sir, im sorry if you didn't like the bear. I didn't mean to offend you, please dont--"
and then the most confusing fucking thing happens
he pulls out a motherfuckin build-a-bear which was your favorite animal (how did he know?) wearing a freakin "thanks a bunch" shirt
*confusedwhiteguyblink*
he holds it out to you; you're quick to snap out of whatever fucking dream this was and gingerly take it from him
then you start giggling, relieved and so bewildered because what the fuck???
"hey...thank you," because of course you would say thank you for a thank you gift
and as if the day couldnt get any fucking weirder
Black Noir pulls you into a hug
like, a minute-long hug
while you're not as quick as earlier, you still reciprocate the hug—you even gently (read: awkwardly) pat his back!!
and then he removes himself from the hug, stares at you, then fucks off doing Black Noir shit
for a place of honor, you keep the toy right next to your monitor and look at it whenever you're feeling not like yourself
also, coincidentally, when Black Noir needs something from your department, he goes right to you and only you!!
#
i get the vibe that no one really cares about Black Noir at Vought; so i personally headcanon that except for the kiss-ass usual gifts, he got jack shit while at the hospital, if any at all. that's why i headcanon? imagine? that the second someone puts some thought into a get well soon gift like reader does, he's over the moon. my boy needs positive attention!! 😭😭😭
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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago
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Separation, Connection - 2/2
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Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader
Characters → Marvel Characters
Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent. 
Word Count → 3.5k
SSB2021 Square Fill → Table Sex - @star-spangled-bingo
BBB2021 Square Fill  → “You’re such a tease” - @buckybarnesbingo
Warnings → 18+. Angst, jealousy, smut. sexual activities, swearing.
Betas → @fandomfic-galore // all mistakes are my own.
A/N →  I cannot believe how much everybody has loved part one, honestly, I am over the moon with all your comments and disdain for Bucky’s behaviour! I hope you like this part and I cannot wait to read your comments about how things turn out...
Firefly’s Masterlist
READ PART ONE HERE!
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Previously: You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.
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The suite was filled with an assortment of flowers, sweet treats, and gift boxes, all unopened. From bright coloured ribbon to delicate lace detailing, the space was overwhelming and the sentiment behind each one wasn’t even close to what you wanted, needed from Bucky.
You laid on your couch, looking up to the ceiling, balloons filled with confetti swaying into view. Surely Bucky knows that he can’t buy your friendship. But maybe he is sorry. You looked over to your best friend sitting on the floor beside you, supposedly deeply invested in their book until a smirk formed on their face.
Wanda turned to you, “You already know what I think you should do - go and talk to him.”
She was right, you probably should talk to him. You knew Bucky hadn’t just tried to buy your friendship. It was in the way he’d hold the door open for you, drop off a coffee when you were doing paperwork, and how he’d always check in with you before, during and after training and missions. It was sweet, and not too dissimilar to the Bucky from before. However, this time, he made you even more nervous; the boyish charm that he didn’t use with you often was more noticeable, and the mischievous sparkle in his eye made you squirm.
“Okay.” You sat up, twisting to plant your feet on the ground, “I’m going to tell him. FRIDAY, where is Sergeant Barnes?”
The AI addressed you, “He’s currently sparring in the gym.”
You skipped down the corridor, leg bouncing in the elevator and wishing you’d taken the stairs as it would have been quicker at this rate, with excitement bubbling in your chest at how you would greet Bucky, accept his apology and forgive him. Then you’d tell him how you feel about him and deal with the rejection when it came to it but right now, all you wanted was your friend back.
Gliding through the automatic sliding doors, the spring in your step propelling forward into the gym and greeting the other gym users with a beaming smile or nod. The approach to the sparring ring had the nerves tickle under your skin and you bit your lip in hopes to ground yourself.
It’s only Bucky, your best friend. He wants you in your life. You reminded yourself and weaved between the agents to look at the spectacle that had gathered such a crowd. Bucky had an agent pinned to the ground, those thick muscular thighs straddled across them and the ones in his bulging bicep rippling as he applied pressure on his forearm against their windpipe.
“Bet they’ve been in that position more than once before,” an agent laughed, joined in by a couple of other peers.
Your stomach twisted at the comment and the sudden movement in the sparring ring had you pausing the step forward. It was her; they’d twisted in the tussle and she was now facing you and straddling Bucky’s hips. She panted above him and attempted to wrap her hand around his neck.
“Oh yeah, they’ve done this before, with a lot fewer clothes.” The agent beside you commented to another chorus of sniggers and laughs.
Nails dug into the palm of your hands as you steeled your nerves, jaw clenched and tongue pressing hard against the roof of your mouth. She glanced up at the murmurs and spotted you, a smirk on her painted lips. You couldn’t stand the sight and spun on your heel, wanting nothing more than to escape, again.
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Bucky rolled his head back and saw your retreating figure between the legs of the crowd. Without a second thought, he shoved the agent off him and got to his feet and shoving the people aside in a bid to catch up to you. This couldn’t happen, not again.
You smashed through the doors, almost swinging it off the hinge. You hadn’t even looked back at him and he wasn’t sure if you even knew he was there until he heard a frustrated growl, one he’d never heard from you before. Bucky turned the corner to find you slumped against the wall by the elevator, head hanging low. 
He stepped forward but was stopped by your raised hand, “Please just leave me alone.” 
Bucky’s heart cracked at the defeat in your voice, the way you caved into yourself. Not letting him help with whatever it was you were dealing with. He knew what had happened, saw the agent above him grinning like the cat that got the cream.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky leant his side against the wall, giving you enough space but still able to watch your every move in case you tried to run away again, “Please talk to me.”.
“I was ready to forgive you.” You glared at him, he could see the tears threatening to spill, clinging to your eyelashes and ready to fall.
“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky reached to cup your cheek, but you batted him away and stood up straight as the elevator made its presence known. He went to follow you into the lift but once again, you stopped him with an outstretched arm.
“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that.” You gritted your teeth and took a step back, “Please just leave, James. Go back to your mating ritual or whatever that was out there.”
Bucky was at a loss for words, he knew he’d betrayed your trust when it came to not talking about his sexual rendezvous but now, he was stumped. You were jealous and he finally realised why you hadn’t accepted his gifts. You didn’t want his attention or just his friendship; you wanted his affection, his love and he wanted to give that to you.
You meant the world to him, and yes, he’d broken the number one rule when it comes to friendship, he needed to explain why he did what he did. But first, he needed to get you to listen which was the more difficult part. You were stubborn and closed yourself off whenever someone tried to pry inside that pretty head of yours.
Bucky was willing to get inside, whatever it took, whatever you needed.
“No doll, I’m not leaving you. We need to talk about this.” Bucky stepped past you and pulled you into the elevator.
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You knew you wouldn’t be able to shake Bucky, and he’d follow you into your suite. You wanted him to but also didn’t at the same time. Your head and heart were in a conflict that left you frustrated and ready to snap.
The flowers mocked you, the balloons swaying with a smirk and the unopened packages sparkled in knowing. Ignoring the gifts, you strode through the suite and into the dining room with Bucky hot on your heels.
“Please can you give me some space?” You sighed, a hand dragging down your face.
“Okay,” Bucky held his hands up in submission, “look, I know what I did, I betrayed your trust, I know what I said hurt your feelings.”
You scoffed, that was an understatement, turning to look at him and leaning against the kitchen cabinets, hands braced on the counter, knuckles whitening as you tried to maintain your composure.
“I can only hope that one day you’ll forgive me and let me back in, to be on your side again. I should have told you about-”
“Don’t you dare say her name.” You pointed at him. Bucky smirked, making you even angrier than before. “Are you getting a kick out of this?”
“No, of course not, what is wrong with you?” Bucky’s smile faded instantly, and he shook his head, “I’m trying to talk to you and you’re jumping down my throat the second I speak.”
You reared your head back, mouth agape, you knew he was right but considering he dared to say it out loud was enough for your blood to boil over. You went to shove past Bucky, to escape to your bedroom or bathroom but he twisted you both around and pushed you against the wall.
“Will you just stop for one second.” Bucky held your squirming body, “I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” The tears finally fell as you thought of him loving her, the words stuttering out, “We’re- just- friends.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and leant forward, you pushed his chest in a panic but unable to escape his hold and then raised your hand to punch him. Bucky’s hand closed around your fist before it could hit his cheek and he held your arms above your head. 
“For fuck’s sake Y/N, I’m trying to kiss you.” He growled, his legs pinning your leg in place.
“Still want to kiss me after I tried to punch you?” You were angry and confused. Wasn’t he telling you about his feelings for that woman that was straddling him earlier? “You’re only interested because I met someone else. That I don’t let you get under my skin anymore.”
Bucky growled again and surged forward, this time you didn’t stop his mouth from descending on yours. The bruising kiss relaxed your body into his hold, yet it was fully alert to his flesh hand kneading at your waist and the cool metal cupping your cheek. 
Your mind floated away, all coherence and why you were angry disappeared until Bucky pulled back, leaving you both panting and eyes closed. You suddenly realised that you should stop; your heart was telling you to run but your body demanded more. You wanted him.
You yanked Bucky back to you at the nape of his neck and crashing your lips to his again. Tongues swiped along each of your mouths, teeth nipped at one another. He knew exactly what to do, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip again and he began rocking your hips down against the thick muscle. Warmth bloomed in your tummy from the friction of Bucky’s sweatpants against your clothed core. 
His locks found their way around your fingers and the slight tug elicited a moan from his plump lips, parting you both momentarily. Eyes locked, pupils dilated in lust, and warm heavy breaths filled the space. You were momentarily lost in the feelings, overwhelmed but unsatiated. The anger still simmered in your veins; the venom was heavy on your tongue for what he put you through, but you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. You had to have him, at least once, and it would be on your terms.
You somehow managed to spin the hunk of a super soldier around, pressing his back against the wall. The smell of Bucky; that woodsy musk and sweat overwhelmed your senses, you’d been close to him but not this close. Without thinking you, began peppering wet kisses down the column of his neck, nipping at his collarbone. He tried to explore your body, hands dipping under the hem of your shirt and you almost caved into their search before you pulled away.
Being this close to Bucky, to finally getting somewhat of what you had dreamed of was putting your head in a spin, but you needed to get him out of your system. What better way than to fuck it out? To fall over the precipice of ecstasy and let it wash away your desire and need for him. To move on from one, James Buchanan Barnes.
Bucky’s brows furrowed at the uncertainty that was clearly painting your features, “are you-”
You didn’t want his reassurances right now, you just wanted him to kiss you again, “want you Bucky.”
“I know, but we need to get rid of this first,” Bucky was biting his lip as he pointed at your top.
You nodded and he slowly tugged it over your head, you were too impatient and pushed him back to the wall. Letting him drink in your body while removing your sports bra. The cool air against your skin was welcoming but didn't dampen the fire pooling in your belly. 
You leant in to kiss him again, bringing both of his hands up to your breasts. It was messy, all teeth and tongues as you both fought for dominance. His fingers twisting and teasing at your nipples sent goosebumps across your skin. Bucky’s mouth began to explore your jaw and neck. It felt like he was everywhere, turning you into putty.
Is this what it felt like to be with him? To have him worshiping your body. Your mind flashed back to the moment you saw him pinning that agent against the wall, the way he’d fucked her. It soured the moment and you pulled away.
“Is this what you fucking do? Charm your way into women’s pants?” You were pacing back and forth, “I’m such a fool.”
Bucky hadn’t said a word, he was leaning against the wall and a forlorn look on his face, his hair spiking up every which way. It made your heart flutter and the noticeable erection under his pants was making your mouth water. He didn’t show an ounce of regret, he actually looked enamoured with you. No, it can’t be. You shook the thought from your head, letting the anger morph into passion again.
You strode over, he was ready to catch you the moment you leapt into his arms. Mouths crashing down on one another again in a heated battle. His hands held your back tight to his chest, your core almost, almost, getting what it needed through the material. You were lowered down, your back meeting the coolness of your kitchen table and Bucky kissed between your breasts, your eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure. 
Bucky’s weight disappeared and his body moved away, leaving you cold and alone. You peeked open one eye, a slight fear that he’d have a face of regret but then you saw the look of desire and lopsided smile as he shimmied his pants and boxers to the floor.
He returned to the spot between your legs and, you almost had him where you wanted him as he reached out to pull at your leggings, but his hands paused, resting at your hips. Your brow furrowed, unsure of what he was thinking so you sat up, and he looked anywhere but your face.
You tucked a finger under his chin to bring his attention to you and whispered, “What is it?”
“Are you sure about this?” Bucky quietly asked.
“Of course, I am, I would have kicked you out the moment you got here otherwise.” You smiled and pulled him closer to press your lips to his cheek.
You slowly edged down his jaw line with small light kisses, spurred on by feeling him relax under your touch. Teeth grazed along his pulse, Bucky moaning into the now electrified kitchen. He pulled you to the edge of the table and lifted slightly to remove your leggings, placing you back down gently. 
You fell back against the table while his fingers rubbed over your soaked panties, swirling in rough motions. He swiped the material to the side, his fingers glided through your dripping folds. You were completely consumed by him and the way his fingers pumped and stretched your cunt open while his thumb caressed your clit.
“You’re such a tease.” A mumble of whimpers, profanities, and Bucky, left your lips as you tried to convey your need for him to fuck you, “Please.”
The words were silenced as his cock skimmed over your folds, nudging at your bundle of nerves, teasing you higher and higher into pleasure. It felt like it had been minutes, in reality it was mere seconds, when Bucky finally pushed the tip of his cock into your cunt, walls fluttering and stretching around him.
Gasps fell from both of your lips as Bucky adjusted his weight, shifting deeper inside you slowly with your walls clenching around him. Another thrust forward and he was burying himself to the hilt, filling you up completely. Your cunt was pulsing around him, dripping around his cock with want the moment Bucky grabbed your knee and pulled it up to his shoulder. 
This new angle got him deeper and deeper with every thrust, the table creaking under the movement, you no longer cared, all you could think about was him and the pleasure he was giving you.
Your back arching and head spinning as Bucky kept the pace, unfaltering as you suddenly climbed to the peak of your orgasm. His grunts and skin slapping against skin was pushing you higher and higher. The wood cut into your palm as you held tightly to the edge with each wave of pleasure until you were unreservedly consumed by ecstasy. 
“Fuck, Y/N.” Bucky spluttered, his movements matching his speech, “You’re gonna make me cum too quickly if you keep clenching like that.”
Your grip loosened and traded the wooden table to skim through your folds in search of more and to keep teasing your nipples, and Bucky. You bit your lip, watching him watch you touch yourself whilst he fucked you was turning you on.
Bucky regained his composure with a grunt, pushing your fingers away with his vibranium ones and began circling your clit. The cold metal sent a rush of pleasure across your skin, heating your desire.
“Cum again, I know you got another one in you, Doll.” Bucky smirked above you as he continued to ram into your cunt and flick at your clit in perfect unison.
Your vision blurred and your body keened, letting out a silent scream, you came undone around him. Body shaking as you felt Bucky grip your hips with both hands as he hit you harder and harder until he stilled, unloading inside of you.
“Fuck,” you rasped.
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“Are you okay? Do you want me to get you anything or?” Bucky asked, as he collected the scattered clothes around the kitchen.
“I’m fine Bucky, thanks.” You replied, facing away from him, and clipping your bra back in place.
You could feel the tension in the room, and you hoped Bucky hadn’t noticed. You knew he would, he’s not stupid, but you secretly wished that it would be ignored. There were no regrets on your part and you’re sure Bucky enjoyed himself, it just seemed like you’d have to do a lot more talking than before. Maybe you should have started with that instead of letting him kiss you or letting yourself kiss him back.
“Do you want me to stay or go?” Bucky quietly asked as he put on his shirt.
You weren’t surprised at his care before but now you were for the uncertainty that laced his words, once you’d put on your shirt, you turned to him, “Come on Buck, I’m just another one of them, you just happen to know me a little better. It was just sex.”
If it wasn’t for his close proximity, you wouldn’t have heard the words that Bucky whispered; it wasn’t to me.
“What did you just say?” You looked at him in shock, heart racing at the blush forming on his cheeks.
“It wasn’t just sex to me.” He coughed into his hand and rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’ve always loved you Y/N and I’ve told you that a thousand times. Is there any chance we can be something more?”
You chewed on your lip, butterflies erupting in your belly at the prospect of what Bucky was asking, of the potential heart break you might endure. It was clouded by the way she had smirked at you in the gym, the gossip shared by Natasha and the advice Wanda had given you about self-care. It was all blurring into one and you didn’t know what to say or do. You were torn between your head and heart.
“I think it’s going to take more than gifts and sex. We had a frienship, and I trust you with my life but not with my heart.” You paused and tipped his face so you could really look at him, to see him, “I don’t think we can be something right now, but in time, I think we can get there.”
“Can we start over?” Bucky asked, eyes wide in hope as he leant into your palm.
You took a step away and stretched out your hand, “Nice to meet you Sergeant Barnes, I’m Agent Y/L/N. Do you know any decent places around here to get a bite to eat?”
Bucky’s large hand enveloped yours, a soft smile on his lips, “I know just the place.”
The End…
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lettrespromises · 4 years ago
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#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.
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──➤ Roronoa Zoro sent you a love letter to celebrate +400 followers, would you like to read it?
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@newfriendjen sent a letter : ❝Hi Friend! Congrats again on your 400!! You definitely deserve many more! If you still have a spot open for you event (ignore if you filled them!), can I request: Smut Prompt #15 with Zoro 😏 please and thank you so much!❞ the author sent a letter : ❝dear jen, to say i got a bit carried while writing this is a bit of an understatement! but i hope you’ll like it as much as i liked writing it, all while cackling like a villain as i was writing this. thank you tons for the sweet words, you are such a sweetheart and i’m so lucky to know you! sending you lots of love! sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞
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──➤ Prompt used : #15 “Look at what you’re doing to me.” ─➤ Genre : Smut. ➤ Warnings : MINORS DO NOT READ THIS, 18+ ONLY. Sexual intercourse, jealous sex, mild degradation, choking, biting, cunninlingus, penetration, spanking (once), sir kink.
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The weather of the New World was often unforgiving, unpredictable, and at times, untamable. Sometimes, Mother Nature showed she was capable of crossing the limit of Nami’s extended knowledge regarding climate (and God knows her brain was severely infused with every secrets regarding the different kinds of weather, rendering her as a living, walking encyclopedia.) But alas, sometimes the rage of Mother Nature would be thrown upon any poor ship unready to face her wrath in the forms of undying tornados and waves that could reach the sky.
Hence why, every morning, Nami’s prediction on today’s weather was awaited by all, very much like a prophecy which was often set to come true— and if said prophecy announced any kind of weather gravitating around the lexical field of a natural catastrophe, one wouldn’t be surprised to perceive Usopp down on his knees in a praying position, diverse and unintelligible wishes to survive Mother Nature’s anger.
Much to the crew’s collective joy, the navigator had announced the most ideal weather— sunshine, a slight breeze and no cloud in sight, what appeared to be a regular weather in heaven. And, why of course, such a hot weather meant that both Nami and the local archeologist, Nico Robin, would bathe under the sun and relieve any kind of tension which had settled in after several fights (or just the exhaustion of having to deal with Luffy on a daily basis.)
And there you were, standing like a mannequin in the girls’ room in company of Nami and Robin, the latter throwing you an amused look at the way Nami was comparing which bikini would look better on you— the red one, an appeal for passion, or the black one, a statement of boldness? Her brows furrowed in unison at her poor attempt to make a decision, comparing how the colors married the shade of your skin.
« Robin, how are we feeling about the red bikini? It’s so cute, but I have a feeling something is missing… » The navigator wondered, her gaze falling on the taller woman next to her.
Robin couldn’t refrain from allowing a giggle from leaving her lips, surely it meant that she had her idea, an ill-intentioned one, that is. And, oh well, to say she had just a mere idea was an understatement : as she remained still, Robin summoned a couple of limbs to look for a green-colored bikini hidden in the drawers only to bring it to Nami’s attention. The two women shared a teasing glance, as if they communicated intentions filled with mischief through their eyes alone.
« I do believe something was missing, too. » Robin trailed off, bringing an index under her chin. « Something that might appeal to a certain swordsman. »
The evil cackle falling from Nami’s lips announced nothing good, and the sweet tone of her voice only deepened that sentiment. « You know how the saying goes : great minds think alike. »
« Hold on, what are you—… » You began, only to be cut off by the navigator, « Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to say, Y/N. We’re not fools, you know? You’re going to look like a real stunner with this bikini on, and I know that a certain someone won’t be able to resist. » She concluded her sentence with a wink sent your way, boy, sometimes you did understand why Zoro called her a witch at times.
« Join us when you’re ready, Y/N. I’m intrigued to see how this will go. » Concluded Robin, accompanying Nami towards the door to let you some privacy so you could change into the bikini, not that you have never changed in front of them and vice versa, but oh well.
You were now all alone, still haven’t moved an inch. Your thumb was brushing against the green fabric of the bikini over and over again until it had become some kind of obsession. But the more the motions continued, the more you realized that perhaps there was no other way to get out of this trap glamorously set by Robin and Nami. A sigh of despair left your lips, swearing to yourself that you’d have your payback sooner than later.
The door of the girls’ bedrooms slammed open, allowing your figure sculpted by the finest hands of the muses of beauty to be exposed to the kisses of the sun. The first sound to rip apart your thoughts was a squeal which left Nami’s mouth, the latter shaking Robin’s forearm with urgency to bring her attention onto you. « Robin, Robin! Look at her, isn’t she to die for? I’d bet all my money that Zoro is going to throw himself on her. I mean, just look at her! »
The same amused smile graced Robin’s facial traits, lowering her shades just a bit to have a good glance at how the oh so awaited green bikini embraced your body. « I must confess that it’s impossible to resist her. »
The words leaving her lips became clearer and clearer the more you approached them, a palette of rosy tones sitting proudly on top of your cheekbones at their compliments. « We saved you a seat, Miss I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good. Come with us! » Nami said, patting the empty spot next to her to which you wordlessly replied with a nod, sitting between her and Robin.
« You’re so evil, I kinda hate you for it. » A smile plastered upon your lips as the words died on your tongue.
« You love us and you know it. » Nami replied, letting her hand lingering on your forearm. « Ooh, would you look at that, Robin? The show is about to begin. » She concluded, taking a sip out of her cocktail with a gleam of mischief shining in her eyes.
And by show, the navigator undoubtedly meant the sudden appearance of the Sunny’s resident lover who had stormed out of the kitchen with a plate of different kinds of treats and cocktails for his ladies, spoiling them rotten on sunny days if it meant he could allow his eyes to linger a bit on your bodies in bikinis.
The first act of the show had begun in a flashy manner, as soon as Sanji closed the door leading to the kitchen behind him, the plate he was holding had fell onto the floor, a loud echo reasoning into the swordsman’s ears who was stuck in a deep state of slumber… Until now.
« I must have saved a country in my previous life to be worthy of such a privilege. » Sanji sobbed, falling onto his knees, « Y/N, you’re a goddess amongst us, we’re not worthy, I’m not worthy of your beauty. I will worship you everyday, I will cover you in love until my very last breath! » The cook continued, more and more praises falling from his lips in a continuous cascade as your cheeks were getting more and more red by the second. Alas, the more the blonde sang your praises, the more the swordsman was stirring awake— and if there was one thing Zoro hated with passion besides Sanji, it was waking up to loud noises.
Sanji had approached you, on one knee, the back of your hand pressed against his lips as the tears falling from his lips mixed with the blood leaking from his nose. « Thank you, my goddess, thank you for blessing my sore eyes. Words can’t describe how—… » And he went on and on again, his lips still traveling from the back of your hand to your forearm under Nami’s disgusted stare who yanked you away from him.
« My goddess—… »
« Oi! Do you ever shut up, stupid cook? » And despite the numerous occasions on which Zoro and Sanji have fought, Zoro’s words seemed intensely more acerbic, as sharp as the swords laying to his side, which even surprised Sanji.
« Were you talking to me, mosshead? » Sanji taunted.
« I don’t see anyone else here acting like a damn fool. » Zoro began, his sole eye conveying so much anger you could feel it. « Know your place. »
Nami elbowed Robin once more, the latter having long forgotten about the book sitting on her lap at this point. Sanji stepped towards the swordsman, dangerously reducing the space between the both of them until their foreheads were touching. There was no frown noticeable on Zoro’s face, but a blank expression which let through a pure anger. « She belongs to me, hands off what’s mine. » The swordsman spat, his shoulder hitting Sanji’s as he walked past him, leaving the cook in a stupor.
« Oi! You. » He said, pointing at your frame with his index. « Follow me. You and I are gonna’ have a word. »
He cursed himself for allowing his gaze to fall on your form, knowing damn well that with each second he spent looking at you in this green bikini (this damn color, he thought), the more he was falling under the spells casted by the muses of lust.
« Go get some! » Nami whispered, her tongue gracing her bottom lip.
« We expect all the details afterwards, my dear Y/N. » Robin giggled.
You had barely enough time to form any kind of response that you felt the foreign presence of Zoro’s digits snaking around your wrists and yanking you towards him. « Hey, I’m sure we can talk about this calmly, right? We can chat about it over a drink, I’ll ask Sanji to—… » Alas, your sentence never found its end, your mind going numb at the death glare Zoro sent your way as you mentioned Sanji’s name. But, paradoxically enough, it only fueled your arousal even more.
Zoro led you to the crow’s nest, trapping you and him both inside the same room. And as the silence grew heavier and heavier, until becoming asphyxiating, Zoro’s snicker broke the silence in the most mischievous way. A look of confusion was painted on your face, and you were quick to point at it. « W-What are you laughing at? »
« Do you think I’m fucking stupid? » Zoro half-asked.
You tilted your head to the side, slowly backing away until your back met the unforgiving surface of the wooden wall. « Answer me. » He demanded, one of his hand grabbing both of your wrists in one hold pinned above your head whilst his other hand cradled your jaw so you had no choice but devote your attention onto him.
« I don’t know what you’re talking about. » You pleaded, cheeks burning under the rosy tone as you felt his uneven breaths crashing against the column of your neck.
Wrong answer, Zoro shoved his knee between your already trembling legs. « You like the attention, hah? You love it when that pervert of a cook was throwing himself on you, is that it? Tch. » He was feeding his lust off of the scared expression on your face, blood rushing in the tightest space possible by the second.
« No answer, huh? ‘Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, because it looks like you forgot who you belong to. » And with that, he dug his teeth into the skin of your neck, alternating between biting and sucking motions to form the most ravishing love bite— a symbol of belonging if you will. You squealed at the sudden sensation of his pearly whites inking his name into your skin, giving him exactly the reaction he was anticipating.
You rocked your hips against the thigh settled between your legs, a desperate attempt at getting some friction for your poor and aching core in need for attention. Zoro clicked his tongue once more at your antics, choosing to hush you by continuing the trail of hickeys adorning your martyr of a neck. « Care to explain what you’re doing? Throwing yourself on my thigh because you couldn’t get the shit cook, hah? You’re so fucking desperate, it makes me want to leave you there all alone. »
« Zoro! Please don’t, don’t leave me! I just need you, I don’t need anyone else but you! I promise I’ll be good but please, please, don’t leave me. » You pleaded, a clear veil of despair covering your eyes under his impassible expression.
The façade worn off soon, letting a smirk throne amongst his facial features instead. « Who do you belong to? » Zoro demanded, gliding the hand that was under your chin to your throat and applied just enough pressure to make sure to earn absolute submissiveness out of you.
« Y-You… » You choked out, the lack of oxygen marrying so well with your growing arousal.
His smirk only grew wider, a real testimony of the sick thoughts implanted in his brain that would make a demon blush. Both of his hand retreated to his side, gaze falling on the unmissable erection showing through his dark pants. His eyes alternated between you and the bulge in his pants, your mouth going dry at the wordless order. « If you want to be a whore, then be a good whore and suck me off, yeah? Don’t give me those eyes, you want it. »
You sunk to your knees, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation for what was bound to come. And whilst your eyes were stuck on his form, your fingers were busy tugging down at his pants to reveal his grey underwear stained with pre-cum. The sight of this alone was enough to send yet another wave of arousal down to your core. And as his cock sprung free from the constriction of his boxers, his girth slapping against his exposed abdomen and the tip rouge from anticipation, you were convinced you could’ve come undone from the sight of this alone.
« Suck. » He ordered, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your towards his aching cock and the veil of pre-cum coating the tip.
And thus it began. You flattened your tongue, drawing a large lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip where you finished with a few kitten licks, knowing damn well the head was where all the nerves devoted to pleasure were hidden. « Don’t tease and put your mouth to good use, whore. » Zoro said, almost betrayed by the groan threatening to be released.
Following the rules of performative language, you began to rock your head back and forth around his cock, making sure that your tongue was coating in a lustful love each inch of his girth whilst hums of pleasure were leaving your lips as you went. The hold of your hair in Zoro’s fist grew tighter and so did the metaphorical knots in his stomach as you went along, until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat— such enticing sensation earned a growl out of him. Fuck.
« F-Fuck. Look at what you’re doing to me… Ah! Shit. Enough! » He ordered, yanking your head away from his cock, and the sight of the corners of your mouth dripping with the sweet marriage of his pre-cum and your drool could have provoked an orgasm out of him at this very moment.
« It’s too soon, and it’d be giving you what you want, huh? Too fucking bad, I’m going to cum in that sweet pussy of yours and you’re gonna love it. Ya’ hear me? » He asked without really asking, and taken by a rush of lust, you could only nod in return. « Y-Yes. » You stuttered. « You’re missing something. » Zoro added. You swallowed thickly before adding « Yes, yes, sir. » Your response caused an ill-intentioned snicker to fall from his lips. « That’s right. Now get on your back, and make sure to be as loud as you can, I want everyone on this damn ship to hear how I can make you scream. »
Zoro’s glorious height forced you to lay back until your spine touched the mattress where all the sins would soon break free. The smirk on his face never left, a pure testimony of what all the sinful deeds he was bound to accomplish. You were now trapped between his forearms, hips circled by his knees— bending under his dominance. « Did you wear that for me? » Zoro asked, slapping the string of the bikini top against your skin.
« I d-did, it’s all for you because I’m all yours. » Your response caused a chuckle to break from his lips, sweet words feeding his ego some more. And in a flash, his fingers had ripped said bikini top in half (you made a mental note that you now owed a serious debt to Nami), and there you were, (almost) in all you bare glory. « Fuck, if only you knew the things you do to me. »
Zoro wasted no time and threw all caution out of the window as his mouth latched onto your breasts, the motions of his tongue around your bud causing your spine to pay homage to the moon from how arched it was. His pink muscle flickered around your nipple before he swallowed your breast whole, his drool covering your flesh in a sinful veil. And because he was such a giver for his pretty girl, he gave the same treatment to the other breast whilst gasps left your lips over and over again at the methodical motions of his tongue, your anatomy held no secret for him.
« Are you going shy on me now? Did you forget what I said? » He trailed off, reducing the space between his lips and your ear, « I said I want you to be fucking loud. »
And with that, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach before tearing apart (once more) your poor martyr of a bikini bottom under your desperate attempts to keep it intact. Were you challenging him? Oh well… Zoro has always been the type to face any challenge thrown his way. « Zoro—… Sir, please! » You pleaded, not knowing really why.
« You’re such a desperate little thing, huh? » He leaned down to face your core, glistening in its lustful glory for him and him only. Zoro pressed a finger against your folds, dragging it vertically to obtain a finger pad covered in your slicks. « So fucking wet for me already? ‘Bet that shit cook can’t make you as wet as me. » He stated, confidence embedded in his every word. « Only you can make me feel this way, sir. » You replied before he crashed his lips onto yours in an uncharacteristically sweet manner to cut you off. « And why’s that? » The swordsman asked, already knowing the answer. « Because… Because I belong to you. » He pressed yet another kiss against your lips for having given the answer that had been lingering on his mind. « Good girl. »
Your reward came in the form of his tongue brushing your folds, flickering motions against your sensitive bud sending you in overdrive as continuous waves of pleasure washed over you ceaselessly, the knots in your stomach tightening each time his tongue touched you. Two of his digits poked your entrance, teasing you to let your torture last before they penetrated you. The sudden sensation caused you to let out a dragged whimper accompanied by his name coated in a sinful tone. « S-Sir please, please just fuck me— I can’t take the teasing, ahh, fuck, fuck! Please, please! » You begged, eyelids shutting close under the pleasure.
But your pleas fell in deaf ears as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, sucking onto your sensitive bud to build an orgasm within you that he was bound to deny. He knew you were close by the way you were holding his green hair, tugging him ever closer to your core to amplify the inferno burning within you. But alas, to your greatest displeasure, all the motions ceased in one go under the hint of mischief glowing in his eye.
« You’re gonna cum on my terms, and when I say so. Got it? » He seethed, knowing damn well that his own end was going to arrive soon. He gave his girth a few experimental pumps, allowing the pre-cum to cover his length before shoving the entirety of his cock in one go inside you, barely leaving enough time for your cunt to stretch correctly— and saying that a elongated moan left your lips was an euphemism, the sick grin plastered upon his face grew more and more as the sounds of pleasure drowned in his eardrums. « You’re so fucking tight, shit! » He breathed out, « Look at your pretty cunt swallowing me whole. »
The rhythm of his hips followed the scheme of a crescendo, each slam of his hips against your derrière drew a clearer portrait of both Zoro’s end and your own climax. The nature of the rhythm itself indicated that he was chasing after his own end, and with his head thrown back and his irises dilated under the hunger to satiate the raging fires breaking loose in his abdomen by the second. « S-Sir, it feels— Ah! It feels so good! »
The tip of his cock kissed ever so precisely the roof of your cervix where a panel of nerves designed to draw a lustful reaction out of you every time he thrusted into you. Your vision became more and more blurry until a liquid veil covered your eyes as pearls of tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. Under the pressure of each of Zoro’s thrusts, your body bent to his will and soon you had no longer control over your legs that used to be around his waist, only to be picked up by the swordsman who threw your legs over his shoulder, thus allowing him to reach a deeper part in you and the cries leaving your lips were just the proof of how good he made you feel.
More and more cries echoed against the wooden walls of the room, your sounds of pleasure marrying the groans falling from his lips in a cascade. « Ah, fuck, fuck! R-Right there, please! Shit…! » You pleaded to fuel him some more. His nails were digging into the luscious flesh of your thighs, drawing rouge crescents in his wake.
« Who do you belong to? » He groaned out, his eye admiring the lustful look on your face.
« Y-You! I belong to you, fuck, you a-and no one else! » You attempted to reply mid-moan.
But as much as Zoro knew your anatomy, you also happened to be an expert of his— and the way he planted his nails into your skin, the raw groans loosing their chains to be set free and the way his thighs were shaking… Everything announced the beginning of his own end.
« Cum with me… Now! » He ordered, letting his hand crash against your buttcheek in the process. And there it was, the marriage of two lovers under the spell of lust. The rhythm of his thrusts reached their apex, all whilst he painted your walls with the white color of passion. His own cum was mixing with your own elixir of pleasure leaking from your throbbing core as your cunt was clenching around his cock in despair. The sounds of his hips slamming against yours were long gone now, the room was solely filled with heavy breaths and his name falling from your lips over and over again like a forbidden prayer.
Although Zoro’s stamina knew no bounds, he felt like the oxygen had been knocked off of his lungs. But perhaps it was the price to pay if it meant he could observe you in all your post-orgasm glory after holding it inside you for so long. God, he was so proud of you, proud of every mark he had left onto your skin, proud of the way your skin gleamed under the sweat, proud of being your lover.
« ’S alright, ’s alright. I’m going to pull out, breathe. » Zoro demanded, the sweet tone reserved for you only finding its way back around his words. His digits snaked around his girth to pull out of you, only to witness the satisfying marriage of your cum and his own. You were so good to him.
And whilst you remained unable to move, Zoro fell to your side, his arms quick to lock you into an embrace as your head rested on his chest, his frenetics heartbeats echoing in your eardrums. You loved the peace of the aftermath of any sexual activity involving Zoro, you loved how peace seemed to bend his facial features in the most enticing way.
He was the first one to break the silence, pressing his lips against your forehead whilst he tugged you impossibly closer to him like a reminder that you were indeed here, and would always be. « So whose plan was this, hah? » He asked, earning a giggle out of you in response. « It was Nami’s, although Robin helped too. She said I would one hundred percent ‘get laid’ if I wore this. » You answered, head tilting towards the poor green bikini torn in pieces.
« That witch can go to hell. » Zoro groaned, but the raw tone of his voice was betrayed by the sweet caresses of his digits down your forearm.
« I mean, her plan did happen so I think it’s a win for her. It’s not like you regret what happened, mhm? » Alas, nothing but silence in return. « Zoro? » You called him, but an angel passed. « Zoro! » You repeated more sternly, and this time you were met with the sound of his snores— of course, typical Zoro fashion.
Well, you knew who you were going to thank now.
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asweetprologue · 4 years ago
Text
salt rain
@sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo
Prompt: Rainy day Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier Rating: T (for canon typical injury) Content Warnings: None Summary: Geralt is injured on a hunt and confesses to Jaskier, thinking that this is the end. Jaskier is pissed. ao3
The raindrops fell into his eyes, stinging as they mixed with the sweat on his brow. Geralt blinked them away, staring up at the gray sky above them.
“Bet this’ll make a good ballad,” he said, the lightness of his tone probably contradicted by the way his teeth were stained with blood. He let his head fall to the side so that he could better see Jaskier, who shot him an infuriated, terrified look.
“Don’t fucking say that,” he said, turning his gaze away as he pressed hard into Geralt’s side, where the archgriffon had torn him open with a well aimed swipe. Geralt had stabbed through its throat while it hovered above him, but the thing had fallen nearly on top of him. Most critically, directly on top of his bag of potions, which were now no more than a few shards of glass on the ground. He had more back at the campsite, with Roach, but she was too far. They’d never make it there in time.
Jaskier pressed against the wound with some kind of fabric. His doublet. He was stripped down to his shirtsleeves, the thin linen fabric clinging to him as the rain drenched it. Brown hair flopped down into his eyes, pushed flat by the downpour, and Jaskier pushed it out of the way impatiently. “You’re not going to die out here,” Jaskier muttered, almost more to himself than Geralt.
It was a nice sentiment, but a naïve one. He had no potions. The rain was soaking him and Jaskier both, ensuring that his wound continued to run bloody. Without Swallow or White Raffords, there was no way he could heal from such a large injury, not without serious medical intervention. “Jaskier,” he said softly. “Look at me.”
Jaskier didn’t look up, his jaw clenched hard as he tried to put pressure on the hole in Geralt’s side. “You’re not,” he choked out through gritted teeth. “You can’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Geralt said, reaching a hand up to grasp the edge of Jaskier’s shirtsleeve. He felt weak already, the short distance to Jaskier’s wrist taking monumental effort to traverse. He opened his mouth, panting, and the rain fell on his tongue in splashes of clear, sweet spring. “Jaskier, please, look at me.”
This time Jaskier turned, his wide eyes clearly brimming with tears. He sucked in a breath when he saw Geralt’s face, his expression crumpling a bit. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, a choked admission of guilt. Geralt’s heart clenched in a way that had nothing to do with his injuries.
“It’s alright,” he said, trying to focus on the bard even as his vision swam. His hand fell to rest on top of Jaskier’s, where it was still pressed hard to his side. The skin there was warm and wet, though he didn’t know if it was blood or rainwater he found there. He was so tired. He wanted to close his eyes, but that would mean looking away from Jaskier’s beautiful, worried face, and he didn’t have the strength for that yet. “I’m glad you’re here, Jask.”
“Don’t,” Jaskier said, pleaded. Geralt couldn’t tell if he was crying, face too wet with rain to say. “Don’t do this, please.”
“Not much of a choice,” Geralt replied, feeling his eyelids growing heavier. The ground beneath him was warm, and that, he knew, was blood, mixing with the rain and turning the dirt to mud. It was over. “I’m sorry. Don’t wanna… leave you.”
“Then don’t,” Jaskier cried, one of his hands coming up to cradle Geralt’s cheek. He blinked his eyes open, not realizing that he’d closed them. Jaskier’s hand was so warm against his cold skin. His eyes were so blue. “Stay with me.”
He couldn’t, so instead he just said, “I love you. Jaskier. I love you.”
Jaskier made a sound like he was the one who’d been stabbed, a choked cry of pure misery that Geralt felt echoed in his own chest. “No,” he sobbed, “how can you say that? Not now, please-”
“Always,” Geralt sighed, feeling his eyes slipping closed again. “Always have. Sorry.”
“Geralt? Stay with me, please, darling, please stay with me. Geralt? Geralt!”
Geralt slipped into darkness.
*
It was a surprise that he woke.
He knew immediately that he was alive because of the pain. It was dulled from the sharp, twisting agony that he’d felt lying in the field, but it was still there. His side throbbed with the telltale itch of his too-quick healing.
Upon forcing his eyes open, Geralt found himself lying in a thin bed in what looked to be a room at an inn. It was familiar - not the room itself, but the woodworm eaten timbers of the ceiling looked just as they had three nights ago when he and Jaskier had passed through the last town. It was a small thing, truly only fit for one person, but Geralt could see both his own bags and Jaskier’s lute case leaning against the small fireplace. Geralt sat up slowly, feeling the newer skin on his side pull at the movement. Still not fully healed, but it must have been at least a day since he fell unconscious. How was he alive? He had been sure, so sure, that this had been the end, even told Jaskier-
Oh shit. Jaskier.
Geralt threw back the thin blanket covering the small bed and heaved himself out of it, wincing as his side screamed at him. He’d had worse, certainly, and he needed to find Jaskier. The only thing that put his mind even slightly at ease was the presence of the lute; no matter how angry Jaskier was at him, he would never leave his instrument behind. Geralt just had to find him, convince him that it was no big deal, that he didn’t mean it like that. That he knew Jaskier didn’t feel the same, and there was no reason things had to change between them. Panic made Geralt’s throat tighten, and it wasn’t just the strain of his recent injury making his heart pound double time in his chest. He had to find Jaskier.
He pulled open the door to the room, letting it slam into the wall behind him, and practically threw himself into the hallway. Only to run headfirst into Jaskier as he rounded the corner, their foreheads cracking together. Geralt felt something warm and wet coat his front as whatever was in the bowl Jaskier had been holding tumbled out of his hands.
Geralt stumbled backwards, cursing as he looked down at the stew now coating his bare chest and the bandages around his waist. He hadn’t even thought to put on a shirt. Jaskier scrambled up from where he’d fallen flat on his ass, one hand pressed to his forehead.
“What the fuck,” he hissed, “are you doing up?” Geralt looked up, startled by the vehemence in Jaskier’s tone. “Shit, look at you, now I don’t have any lunch! Fuck.” Jaskier stepped forward, bowl abandoned, and his fingertips touched the edge of the bandage around Geralt’s middle. His fingers skimmed over the skin just at the edge, and Geralt suppressed a shiver. “Look at this mess. You shouldn’t even be standing, are you alright? We need to change these, come on.”
Geralt allowed himself to be maneuvered, Jaskier herding him back into the room and pushing at him until he sat back on the rumpled bed sheets. The floor was chilly beneath his bare feet, and Geralt spared a moment to feel a bit foolish for rushing out of the room in not much more than his braies in his eagerness to confront the bard. Now that they were in the same room, he found himself unable to even speak as Jaskier fluttered about, griping to himself. He was clearly angry, though Geralt couldn’t tell if it went beyond irritation at being bumped into. After a few moments Jaskier threw down a handful of bandages and gauze that he’d pulled from a bag resting on the single trunk in the room, the closest thing to a table. Geralt didn’t recognize it; Jaskier must have purchased some supplies while he was out.
“I don’t know what you were thinking,” Jaskier muttered, brow furrowed as he knelt before Geralt, right in between his knees. Normally having Jaskier in such a position would be enough to make Geralt flustered, but now he just felt anxiety crawling up his neck. Jaskier began to pull off the soup-soaked bandages around his waist, fingers gentle even though his brow was still wrinkled with consternation. He fell silent, using the ruined fabric to wipe the rest of the stew from Geralt’s chest before reaching for the clean supplies next to him.
Geralt reached out and caught his wrist, his own grip tentative. Jaskier could have broken out of it if he’d wanted to, but instead he froze. “I don’t need them,” Geralt grunted softly, waving to his side with his other hand. He didn’t have to look to know that most of the healing was done. The wound might still be partially exposed, but it was no longer bleeding, and witchers couldn’t get infections like normal humans. There was no need for extra bandages that would only slow him down.
Jaskier wrenched his hand out of Geralt’s grasp, his jaw clenching. “I say you do,” he snapped. “How would you know, anyways? You’ve been asleep for the better part of two days, while I took care of… all this.” He gave a sharp nod towards Geralt’s injury, though he avoided looking at it.
“I’m… sorry.” Geralt shifted awkwardly as Jaskier unspooled a roll of gauze and began to gently wrap up his side once again. He didn’t fight it further, afraid to make Jaskier even angrier than he already was. This must be about something more, he thought with a sinking feeling in his gut. Jaskier had seen him injured plenty of times, and he’d never been so infuriated. It could only be about what Geralt had said to him, before.
I love you.
His own jaw tightened at the memory, the feeling of the rain on his face as he felt himself slowly bleeding out, just wanting Jaskier to know how he felt. He’d just wanted to say it. Just once.
And look where it landed him.
“How, uh.” He started and stopped, distracted by Jaskier’s hands as they hesitated over his wound, gently pressing the gauze down. “How am I…?”
“Alive?” Jaskier finished, voice still brittle. “Yeah, that is the question, hmm? It was Roach, really. I whistled to her - I’m quite good at that, did you know? Good lungs I guess. Anyways, she heard me and came. Brought all your potions, and I was able to get enough Swallow into you to slow the bleeding, enough to bandage you up and get back to town. It wasn’t easy, mind, you’re a heavy bastard and these arms are not meant for manual labor. Thank the gods Roach is used to taking care of your sorry arse, or I’d never have managed. You were bleeding all over the saddle, and I couldn’t remember which one was White Honey and which was White Raffords, and if I’d given you the Honey you’d have been bleeding out even more, so I just had to get into town and find a healer, which was a damn difficult thing to do in that storm-”
He was rambling, sharp, angry words carrying an undercurrent of anxiety. Geralt set a hand over Jaskier’s where they were tying off the bandage, just before he pulled away. “Jaskier,” he interrupted, as gently as he could. “Thank you.”
Jaskier blinked at him, seemingly startled. “Wh- For what?”
“You saved my life.”
“Well,” Jaskier said, “Roach did all the heavy lifting.”
“Jaskier,” Geralt said again, imploring. Jaskier pulled his hands away, blinking hard as he looked away from Geralt and towards the fire. He didn’t move out from between Geralt’s spread knees, but he was no longer touching either. His arms crossed defensively, his hands tucking under his armpits. “I’m sorry.” Geralt didn’t know what else to say.
“You should be!” Jaskier suddenly exploded, standing up and pacing across the room. Geralt reached for him, but he was already gone. He watched from the bed as Jaskier threw his hands up, turning back to point an accusatory finger at him. “You were bleeding out in my arms and you choose that moment to what, confess your- to confess to me? Then, Geralt? That’s not fair! You can’t just say something like that and then almost- and then-” He put a hand over his mouth, turning away. His shoulders were shaking slightly.
Geralt rose, horrified. He stepped up to Jaskier’s side, hand hovering over his shoulder but unsure if his touch would be welcome. “Jaskier, Jaskier, I’m sorry,” he said, panicked. “Please don’t be upset. I’m not- It doesn’t have to change anything. I know it was out of line, I’m sorry.”
Jaskier wasn’t listening, scrubbing hard at his watery eyes. He looked up at the ceiling, taking a shaky breath. “I mean, I understand you might have had your reservations before,” he said, voice strained, “but how was I supposed to get over that?” He lowered his gaze, meeting Geralt’s eyes. This time there was no rain to mix with his tears. “Knowing that you… that we could have been…”
Geralt was at a loss for words. “I didn’t think,” he stuttered, “I didn’t think you would feel the same. As me. I just wanted you to know.”
Jaskier inhaled sharply, a wet, pained sound. “You meant it?” he asked.
Geralt nodded gravely.
Suddenly he had an armful of bard, Jaskier flinging his own arms around Geralt’s neck as he buried his face in his throat. A sob shuddered out of him, and Geralt brought his hands up to spread across Jaskier’s shoulders. His side twinged painfully, but he ignored it. “You almost died,” Jaskier gasped, one of his hands burying itself in Geralt’s hair and clutching almost painfully. “How could you tell me you love me and then leave me?”
“I didn’t want to,” Geralt murmured, pressing his cheek to Jaskier’s temple. “I just wanted you to know. That I… loved you. Love you.”
“I’ve loved you for twenty years,” Jaskier hiccupped, his forehead pressing against Geralt’s shoulder. “You could have said it any time.”
Geralt pulled back a bit, one of his hands coming up to cradle Jaskier’s face as he met his gaze. He felt breathless, something light stirring in his chest even as he mournfully took in the tear streaks on Jaskier’s cheeks. “You too?” he asked, heart in his throat.
Jaskier choked out a laugh, and turned to press a brief kiss to Geralt’s palm. Geralt couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped him. “You’re the stupidest man I know,” Jaskier said into his hand, before looking back up at him. “Of course me too.”
Geralt couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, from letting Jaskier’s breath gust over his nose before he used the hand on his cheek to guide Jaskier’s mouth to his own. It was only a brief press, sweet like fresh rainwater and salty with Jaskier’s tears. He pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s. When his eyes fluttered open, he found Jaskier staring at him, blue eyes startlingly bright.
“This doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you,” Jaskier said. He didn’t sound angry, though. His voice was still shaky, but a small smile was spreading across his mouth. “Don’t do that to me again.”
“I don’t plan to,” Geralt agreed easily. His side still throbbed, but the pain felt far away, and Jaskier was warm and soft in his arms. “Even if you’re still mad, would you do something for me?”
Jaskier hummed. “Depends on the request.” His fingers had gentled in Geralt’s hair, petting across the base of his skull.
“Will you say it?” he asked, tracing a thumb under Jaskier’s eye. Wiping away the last of the dampness there.
Jaskier looked confused for a moment, and then his face brightened like a storm cloud had passed. “Oh,” he said, fondness saturating his voice. “Oh, Geralt. I love you. I always have.”
Relief, affection, joy. Geralt felt lighter than he had in years. “Me too,” he said, leaning in to speak the words against Jaskier’s lips. “I love you too.”
tag list: @llamasdumpsterfire, @theamazingbard 
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starsstruck · 4 years ago
Text
like the sun coming out
part of the cloubusting universe. a continuation of the story of painter!harry and barista!mc. icy february mornings, valentine’s dates, and soft painting sessions. 
pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, sexual content words: 9.3k
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series masterlist
an: hello and happy valentines day💕  im sorry to be a day late but everyday is valentines if you want it to be <3 i hope this finds you well, this is again, just more sweetness because i cant help it. hope everyone has a wonderful loved fill day, happy reading, and as always let me know what you think 💕💕
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You eyed the bouquet sitting by the pastry case. The red of the roses were bright, easily contrasted with the adorning baby’s breath – a classic bouquet that was probably sold out all over town considering the date.
Holding your mug high by your mouth in both hands, warming your cold fingers as you blew lightly over the hot coffee. Standing by the space heater that kept its place under the counter, reveling in the warmth before you had to open the café.
You glanced at your phone that sat on the counter, tapping the screen to check the time. 6:27. You had three minutes. And two minutes since you had last checked, two minutes and still no new text notifications.
Sighing, you leant back over the counter and watched the few cars drive by outside, spending those three minutes you had enjoying your coffee.
Sunday’s were always unpredictable. A lot factored into how busy a shift would be, the weather being the main factor. But then there were holiday’s which for whatever reason were even busier. So working a sunny Valentine’s Day, you could more or less determine that it wouldn’t be long before a line formed out the door. All you could hope was that the line ups would form in the afternoon, when you were free from work.
You weren’t that lucky.
An expected slow start, but as soon as the sun rose higher in the sky you found yourself unable to catch a break. And when Saya came in, it seemed to get even busier. Regulars, big families, couples going for walks – it was all expected but you still felt your mood worsen while your shift went on. It was one of those days, where you’d spill milk and drop cups, a day where nothing seemed to be going right.
The only good thing about a busy day is that time flew by fast. Soon it was just past two o’clock, and you were clocking out while eyeing the newly forming lineup that was officially no longer your concern.
Pulling on your coat, grabbing your bag, and sending one more glance at your phone, before you were heading out the door. There had only been a few notifications – none of them being the one you were waiting to see. You had decided that if Harry didn’t say anything to you by five o’clock, that you would text him again. Or maybe you should call.
You had texted him late last night, unable to sleep before your early shift, and the messages were still left unanswered.
It was only silly little fight, you couldn’t even remember how it had started, just a quiet annoyance. Something about you having to work all week, and suddenly he wasn’t answering your texts. But now it was now nearly twelve hours since it happened and you were growing worried that he was more upset with you than you’d initially thought.
Your walk home was cold, and slow, as exhausted manifested in the balls of your feet. You easily gave in to the overwhelming urge to pull off your boots and slide into bed for a moment as soon as you got home. Your music was still playing in your earbuds, moving it over to your little speaker as you pulled the covers up under your chin and rested your cheek on your pillow. A little lie down was very much needed at the moment. 
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A faint buzzing echoed around you.
Consciousness came slowly. You groggily opened your eyes, peering out your window to see the sky still light, meaning your little nap couldn’t have been as long as it felt. You slowly realized that the faint buzzing was coming from your phone, which was likely buried somewhere deep in the duvet around you.
Searching for where the sound was coming from, you found the phone under your pillow as you flipped it up, seeing Harry’s name across the screen.
“Hello,” your voice was a bit shaky, after you had accepted the call and pressed the phone to your ear. Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling and rubbed the back of your hand over your eyes, no doubt smudging the makeup you’d completely forgotten about.
“Did I wake you?” Harry sounded like he was on speakerphone.
“It’s okay,” you cleared your throat.
“How was work?” His voice sounded clearer now.
“Busy,” you sighed. “People are stupid on holidays.”
“Too tired to keep plans for tonight?”
Your lips curved lightly, already feeling better at the lightness in his tone. “Thought you were mad at me.”
“Couldn’t be,” you could hear the smile in his own voice. “I’m sorry – for last night. I’m frustrated with my work and well, I was being petty, and selfish with your time –”
He cut himself off, as you raised yourself up over the mattress again to search for your phone charger.  “Not your fault,” you hummed, after plugging the phone in. “I’m sorry too.”
“Don’t be – can’t be mad at you for doing your job. So it’s a yes for tonight?”
You bit back your smile, even though he couldn’t see you. “Suppose so. It is Valentine’s day, isn’t it?”
“It is, yeah. And I don’t want to give too much away but I have a few things planned for us.”
“Bit of a romantic, aren’t you?”
You heard him laugh through the phone. “Been told that once or twice, yeah.”
Smiling, you bit the inside of your cheek. “What time?”
“Did you still want to lie down for a bit?”
He knew you well. “I can come to yours in an hour or so,” he continued, “and then we can head to the store together to grab some groceries.”
“That sound’s good,” you said, happy to hear you had a little more time to lie in bed.
“So I’ll see you in a bit?” He confirmed, as you checked the time on your phone and thought that maybe you should set an alarm, in case you fell back asleep.
“You will.”
After saying your goodbyes, you spent a few minutes checking your notifications before sleep sneaked back up on you. Another nap that felt like it could’ve been five minutes or five minutes took over your body, but the next time you woke up, you finally felt rested. In fact, you woke up with a smiling tugging at the corner of your mouth, giddy for the night you had planned with your partner.
Rolling onto your back, the calm you felt was quickly interrupted.
“Jesus!”
Your heart leapt through your throat. Quickly lifting your top half over the mattress, you let your weight rest on your elbows as the duvet bunched around you.
Harry was sitting on the other side of your bed, opened book in hand with his legs extended out over the duvet. His eyes were wide on yours, your exclamation clearly startling him as well.
You saw his mouth part, a gleam in his eyes as he peered down at where you were watching him with wide eyes. “Not quite.”
You felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, trying to calm yourself down from the shock of seeing Harry, or anyone else for that matter, sitting in your bed.
He offered you a small smile with a quirk in his lips, placing his book down next to him and cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to startle you –”
You fell back against the mattress, lying on your back as you stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t anything new – him letting himself into your place. You each had the other’s set of keys, but this was surely a first that he had sat himself down next to you while you slept.
“When did you get here?”
He checked his phone, before glancing back at you. “About ten minutes ago – looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you just yet.”
“Well thank you for that,” you rolled your head on your pillow, smiling up at him. “Happy Valentine’s day.”
Watching as the corner of his lips perked, he returned your sentiment. “Happy Valentine’s to you too,” he hummed, leaning over the small space between the both of you to press a light kiss over your lips.
He wrapped a hand around your shoulders, leaning down to kiss you once more. “Sorry again,” he murmured over your mouth.
You both pulled away with matching small smiles. “Let me go get ready,” murmuring quietly, you slowly pulled the warm comforter off your body. “I’ll be fast.”
Quickly crawling out from under the covers, going to get ready. You freshened up your makeup that had been rubbed off in your sleep, soft hues to accentuate your features as you took a little longer than planned when you attempted a different kind of eye look with your eyeliner.
Finishing with a small outfit change that you had already planned out ahead of time, a red silky skirt that hit just above your ankles, paired with a nice knit pink top that had little ties holding the front closed. You looked like Valentine’s Day had threw up over you and you loved it.
You were both soon exiting your apartment, hand in hand to the grocery store, and then back to his place for a nice dinner date together.
You had already planned on making a creamy quiche, filled with vegetables and a golden buttery crust. The dough had already been made ahead of time, only needing to take it out of the fridge so it could warm up a bit before filling it with all you wanted.
Wine had been poured, both already on your second glass by the time your dinner was in the oven.
Both impatient and wanting to exchange gifts, you sat yourselves down on the couch and handed each other your wrapped presents. Deciding on lowkey gifts, the two of you both having the same idea of gifting each other flowers as two bouquets now sat in vases on Harry’s windowsill.
He had gifted you a journal, thick paper bound together with a custom cover of his own art that he had gotten printed on a soft vellum. It was one your favourite painting of his, soft oranges that blended with light purples in a beautiful sun kissed sky. Vague outline of two silhouettes sat on the lower corner, two figures that blended with quiet blues and held each other close on a glowing empty street – two silhouettes who he always told you were the both of you.
Your gift to him was a thick light blue sweater, adorned with a small pattern of purple hearts over the front. You had immediately thought of him when you found it. Wanting to make it even more special, in orange thread you had embroidered the word “loved” right over the spot that would rest on his heart. He’d immediately pulled it over his head to wear.
Dinner had been followed by chocolate covered strawberries, those of which you had attempted to make yourself but had found to be not as easy as initially thought, a small mess of melted chocolate covering his kitchen counter to be delt with later. But that didn’t matter all that much not when you were sharing them with Harry.
Now you were both seated on the couch, a soft glow of candlelight around you mixed with the light coming from outside. You and Harry were curled up close together, both unable to stop looking at each other with heart shaped eyes.
“I’ve never really had a real Valentine’s day,” you’d told him, pouring yourself another glass of wine.
“Glad I could give you one,” he grinned at you, voice sounding melodic in your ears as couldn’t take your eyes off him. He looked particular good, his hair falling softly around his sharp features, brand new seater fitting perfectly over his chest. “Though I think it’s you who makes it special.”
You only laughed lightly, both the wine and his words making your head spin. You were sat across from each other on the couch knees pressed together with the occasional brush of a hand over the other’s leg, like two magnets who had to touch each other.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he chuckled with his eyes narrowed on yours.
“Like what?”
“You know like what,” he swirled the rest of the wine that sat in his glass, tilting it back against his lips to swallow the rest of it.
Choosing not to answer him, you instead leant forward closer to him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped down to the expand of skin that led to the lowcut neckline of your shirt.
He mirrored you move, sitting forward and slowly closing the distance between the both of you. Your eyes dropped to his hand that had gone to rest over your knee, not thinking much as you rested your fingertips over his and traced the lines over his hand.
“I was thinking,” he hummed, hand dancing over your thigh.
You only nodded, watching him closely as you waited for him to continue.
“Remember our first date?”
You raised your glass to take a sip of the dark red alcohol. “Course I do,” you answered. “When you invited me over to paint?”
Harry nodded. Lifting an arm to rest over the back of the couch, you subconsciously shifted closer into his open side. “What do you say to doing that again?”
“You want to paint with me again?” You nudged his side with your elbow, a light teasing tone in your words. “With your muse?”
“I’m serious,” he laughed with a small shake in his chest. He rose from where he was sat next to you, going over to the corner of the room where he kept his boxes and drawers of supplies.
You rose from your relaxed position, sitting up straight on the couch. “You mean right now?”
He glanced over at you from over his shoulder, digging through his things for what he needed. “Why not?”
“Clothes are too nice to get paint on,” you laughed lightly, watching him pull out a small canvas and fully turn to face you.
“You don’t have to paint,” he murmured, walking back over to you and leaned down so that his face was at level with yours. “How about I paint you,” he pressed his lips to yours, “since y’look so pretty.”
“Sweet talker,” you hummed over his mouth, and he pressed one more peck to your lips before pulling away. “Where do you want me?”
“Where you are is good,” he shifted back from the couch, settling a short distance away from you with all he needed to paint. “Sit back – relax.”
Doing as he said, you watched as he got himself organized and was soon bending over a little blank canvas and laying colour reds and pinks all over it.
You were both quiet for a while – you watching him, and him dividing his time between watching you and the soft strokes of his brush over the canvas. Only the quiet hums of Vashti Bunyan filled the space of the room.
At one point, sweet soft little Cherry had bounced up onto the couch and sat with you for a moment as you covered her in affection, before she decided she didn’t want to be seen anymore and promptly left.
You had fallen into a small daze, not a tired one but a relaxed one, nearly entranced by the way Harry moved the brush so swiftly and delicately over the canvas.
After a while, you didn’t know how long, he murmured your name, head still looking down as he spoke lowly.
Only humming in response, you looked over at him as you watched his eyes flick up to yours.
“Skirts riding up a bit,” he spoke slowly, watching you with a gleam in his eyes.
“Oops,” you murmured quietly, “didn’t want me to move that much, right?”
He shook is head. “Don’t mind –” he shot you a sly little smile, and it could’ve just been the dim lighting but you were sure to have caught a little blush grace his cheeks.
You shifted your legs again, sliding your calves under your bum with a tilt to your torso, as the hem of the skirt rode up a bit higher. You saw Harry glance back down, as you were unable to help the teasing tone in your voice. “What is it?”
“Just distracting is all,” he didn’t look up at you but you could see the roundness in his cheeks that suggested his grin.
“Yeah?” You spoke lightly, moving again while you rose a hand to tug on one of the ties at the top of your blouse, pulling it open to reveal more of your chest. “Wouldn’t want that –”
He glanced at you as you cut yourself off, a short second of heavy eyes on you, following the gap that the fabric created with a dip down to the top of your breasts. You saw him pause, momentarily distracted before he looked back down to his painting with a shake to his head.
It was like that for a short while, a slow quiet game as Harry took longer and longer glances at you and you slowly teased him with soft movements. It was nearly embarrassing how easily you could get worked up over a simple stare, the intensity of his gaze that skimmed over your body always seemed to completely light you on fire.
Though it was him who gave in first, the painting not going nearly as smoothly as it was when he first started as he felt unable to think clearly, mind only occupied with thoughts of you. He found himself focusing on the curve of your lips, the dip of your chest, the way your eyes softened when his gaze met yours – he was unable to do anything but think about you.
Eventually, he placed his brush in his little cup of water, glancing back up at you for a beat before speaking. “D’you know what else I remember from our first date?”
Seeing him rise to his feet, he stretched out his legs before taking the few steps needed to be standing directly in front of you. You only looked up at him, tilting your chin up and watched him hover in front of you. He leant down and placed a hand on either side of you, palms dipping into the couch cushions.
When he leant lower so that his face was level with yours, you straightened out your spine a bit to sit completely parallel to him. He got impossibly close, tip of his nose about to brush over yours if you were to move half an inch.
“What else?” You whispered, watching as Harry flicked his eyes down to watch your mouth form the words.
“How it ended,” he closed the short distance, lips pressing over yours as when he spoke.
“You walking me home?” You pulled your head back an inch, eyes meeting his once again.
“Hmm,” he thought for a second. “The middle then.”
“May have to jog my memory,” you murmured, watching his lips curve up a bit before placing another kiss to your mouth.
You easily deepened the kiss, reaching a hand around him to grab over the back of his neck to pull him in for more. He remained hovering over you with his hands over the couch, mouths parting when you licked over his lips.
He tasted like the strawberries you had shared, a fruity sweetness mixed with the slightly bitter dark chocolate. You were sure you tasted the same – you wondered if you had a distinct taste that mingled with his when you kissed. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand moving to the back of his neck to brush your fingertips over the warm skin.
He leant into your touch, shifting closer in so that his face could be at level with your own. He easily deepened the kiss, one hand rising from where it was supporting him and cupped your cheek with a firm grip to tilt your chin up to his.
“Mm,” he hummed softly over your mouth, pulling away from you for a beat. He bent his knees and sank down to the floor in front of you, and you followed his movements with your own, head tilting down to remain at level with his.
“Started a bit like this, didn’t it?” Your lips perked at his words, feeling his other hand move up over the couch and onto your hip, hands freed to grab at you all he wanted now that he didn’t need to support himself up.
“Think I need a little more to remember,” you told him, feeling his fingers knead over the silky fabric of your skirt and into your rounded skin.
He gladly complied, craning his neck up so that your mouths could reconnect.
You felt hot under his touch. His thumb was tracing the soft line of your jaw until it was gliding the curve of your bottom lip, while his other hand circled around the small of you back and tugged you closer towards the end of the couch, closer to him.
You sighed affectionately into his mouth as he rested his forearms over your folded legs. He was pressing his weight over you, a welcomed touch that had you leaning in closer as you sought out more of his mouth.
Pulling away with a small suck over his bottom lip, you watched his eyelids slowly part open to gaze up at you with darkened eyes.
“Wait right here,” he muttered, suddenly standing up and walking away from you with a quick pace in his step. You watched him move to the kitchen, the expanse of his back was the only thing visible to you from around the corner. You heard him run the tap for a moment before turning it off, and he was back in front of you just as fast. Settling himself back on his knees between your parted legs, his hands wasted no time before feeling your bare skin once more.
You suddenly felt a flush overtake your body, at the realization of what he had just done. At the realization that he had just washed the paint from his hands.
“Are you done painting for now?” You rose one of your hands up and traced the line of his cheek as you spoke, fingertips rising to push back some of the hair that was falling over his forehead.
“Well, you are a pretty convincing distraction, sunshine,” he kissed over your chin, urging you to tilt your head up while his lips slipped down your neck. His wet mouth suckled over your skin, while one of his hands traipsed over your hips, doing his best to wrap his arm around them to tug you closer.
He suddenly pulled away, just as his teeth nipped at the skin above your collarbone while his hot breath warmed your chest. “I think that first time was,” he muttered, head hanging low between your two bodies, watching his hands flatten over your thighs. He squeezed your knee, urging you to unfold your legs and part them around him. “More like this.”
You did as he silently asked, bringing your legs out from under your bum and swung your claves over the edge of the couch. With your knees perfectly parted, Harry easily stayed where he was in front of you now encased between your legs.
Instead of skimming his hands over the fabric of your skirt like you thought he would, he instead rested his chin on the corner of your leg and brought his fingers up over the waistband and on to the skin that was hidden under your shirt. You watched in quiet anticipation as he raised the knit blouse up a bit higher, all while his breath heated your legs.
“You’re the sweetest thing, know that?” Harry murmured, twisting his head so that his lips could smooth over the spot above your knee.
You whined under his touch, feeling his mouth press higher on the inside of your thighs while your skirt slowly inched up, nearly completely exposing you.  
You placed your palms on the back of his hands that held your waist, grabbing a hold of his fingers to bring them lower down your body. He easily complied, gripping the silky fabric that covered your hips in his fingers as he slowly eased it up higher. He followed the hem of your skirt with his eyes, as more and more skin got exposed to him until the fabric was completely bunched up around the edge of your thighs.
You shifted over the couch, allowing the garment to move past your bum until it was bunched just bellow your waist. You didn’t move your eyes away from Harry, watching as his hands dropped to hold your bare thighs, his own eyes glued to your newly exposed centre.
“Sunshine,” his voice was breathless as his hands held the skirt over your form. “What’s all this?”
“It’s new,” you whispered, revelling in the way his warm hands moved over the curve of your hips and onto the delicate underwear that covered you. You keened into his touch, feeling hot under his hungry eyes. “Thought of you when I found it –”
He groaned low in his throat, one hand sliding around your soft skin until his fingers were brushing over the thin straps around your hips “Baby,” he said lowly, watching the way the swell of the skin moved under his touch. “For me?”
The underwear was a light blue mesh fabric, with thin straps that rose high over your hips and tied shut with little bows. In small patterns that covered the expanse of the front, was a delicate embroidery in light whites and oranges; a trail of white little flowers paired with bunches of oranges.
You bent forward, searching for his mouth as your fingers lightly held his jaw to move him closer to where you wanted him. He craned his neck up, mouth immediately finding yours, kissing you hotly while his hands roamed over your skin.
“Please tell me there’s a matching top,” he muttered into your mouth, fingers tugging at your blouse.
You placed your hands over his, promptly removing your shirt. He pulled back from you, sitting on his heals, watching you with heavy eyes while you pulled the soft fabric over your head and tossed it aside.
His hands remained firm over your hips, eyes eating up inch of your skin. He quietly dragged his fingertips up your sides, dragging them up onto the underside of your breasts as he watched the swell of skin move under his touch.
“Like it?” You hummed, meeting his dark eyes with a tilt of your chin.
The top matched the bottom, underwire of the bra keeping your breasts up as the cups were thin and sheer, covered in the same small colourful embroidered of oranges and flowers. Harry lightly traced the patterns with his fingertips, wanting to feel every inch of the bra.
He didn’t answer you, and only leaned in closer so that he could press his lips over your stomach, soft smoothing movements up to your sternum while his hands palmed over your breasts. He followed the embroidered detailing over your pebbled nipple with light teasing touches.
“You’re a dream,” his hot beath sent a shiver down your spine, lips smoothing back down once more as his hands got a firm grip over your thighs.  “Nothing I love more –” he inhaled deeply, “than being between your leg like this.”
He completely bypassed where you hoped he would end up, instead kissing up over the inside of your legs, hands smoothing on your thighs to give him more access. He dug his digits into the soft skin, lips replacing his touch as hot open-mouthed kisses licked over the sensitive spots.
You knew where he was headed, you knew he loved to play this game with you, but you were growing a bit impatient as he sucked into the inside of your thighs, no doubt leaving marks that would bruise a purplish red tomorrow.
“Baby-“
“Baby what?” He muttered over your thigh, loud kiss on the skin. “What d’you want? Tell me,” his tongue licked over your skin, a small nip of his teeth over the sensitive skin.
“Your mouth,” you whimpered, hands smoothing over his the crook of his shoulder and up over his neck in search for his hair to tug on.
“Where?” His breath was oh so hot, fanning over your skin in a way that you were sure would light you on fire if he continued. His fingertips toyed with the thin fabric that covered you, snapping the elastic over your skin as your breath hitched in your throat.
“You know –” you choked, feeling a new wave of heat shoot through your stomach when his hands wrapped around your thighs. “Just like our first date, right?”
“Right,” his chest shook with a soundless laugh, hands reaching behind to hold over your bum and tugging you even closer to him. He was so close you could feel the soft breaths of air leave his nose and tickle the crest of your thighs. You were sure that there was a wet spot forming over your new underwear, visible to the man between your thighs. “Want me to taste you, just like the first time?”
You hummed in the air, unable to form a proper sentence when his tongue poked out from his lips and he pressed it flat against your covered core.
“Was that,” he pulled his mouth away far to fast, “when you knew?”
His fingers were tugging at the soft straps that were tight around your hips, easing the fabric down ever so slowly. You let out a breathy sigh, “what?”
Moving his head back, Harry kept his eyes glued to the skin his fingers were uncovering. “Was that when you knew you liked me?”
A breathy laugh escaped your lips, as you rose your hips up so that he could ease the flimsy material down your thighs. “That wasn’t it.”
He was so enthralled with the sight of you in front of him, that there was a slight lag while he processed your words. Moving back as your underwear hung just above your knees, glancing up to meet your gaze through heavy eyelids.
His swollen lips pouted. “When was it, then?”
Smiling down at your lover, your fingers found their way over his cheek once again, trailing over the curve of his cheekbone and down to his jaw. “When you kept bugging me at work,” you laughed slightly at the memory, “and when you wanted to stay and close the shop with me.”
Another kiss to your thigh. “And I really knew when you brought me those mandarin oranges.”
His eyes bore into yours, another exaggerated pout of his mouth. “That was after.”
“Well,” you hummed, nails scratching over his scalp, “had to make sure, didn’t I?”
“Guess you did,” he leant in even closer, a kiss right at the crest of your thigh that had your breath hitching in your throat.
You saw him move, but it was still a small shock when his mouth was felt over your folds. After a light lick of his tongue, he was pulling away within seconds.
He urged your legs to further part for him, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull to spread you wider. His mouth was back on you within seconds, tongue pushing against your clit with slow licks over the sensitive nub.
Mouth widening over your centre, tasting more of your arousal. A quiet moan escaped your mouth when he circled his lips over your clit, sucking with quiet determination.  
He had one hand gripping into your thigh, sure to be little crescent moon shapes left behind from his nails that would be indented as a reminder for how good he makes you feel. You let your head fall back, hitting the back of the couch with a near uncomfortable bend to your back, but you didn’t care. One of your hands was still mussing up his hair, tugging at the soft strands when his mouth felt particularly good against your clit.
Your other hand was being blindly sought after by Harry’s own palm, eyes glanced up through his eyelashes to meet your own with a sly smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. He seemed to wordlessly speaking to you, quiet lustful gazes before delving back in with slow, teasing movements through your folds.
His palm fit over the back of your hand. He held over you, moving your pliable hand to turn it in his grasp, fingers dancing with yours all while you both pushed into the seat of the couch.
“Hold m’hand,” his voice was muffled over your cunt, soft vibrations shooting up your spine both at the feeling of him speaking and the tenderness of his words.
You easily interlocked your fingers, palms pressed together as you dug your nails in the back of his hand when his tongue was back searching for the arousal that was dripping over your skin.
His moves into your cunt were slow, too slow. Tongue flattening over your folds with deep pushes into you, before soft teasing circles were graced over your clit. You were arching your back over the couch, hips seeking his mouth as you quietly begged for more. He alternated between pushing just over the entrance of your hole, sliding through the wet mess and up to your clit to pull beautiful moans from you.
“Taste so sweet,” his groaned, as you whimpered for more. “D’you like it when I eat your sweet little cunt like this?”
You rolled your hips up at his words. He often muttered sweet confessions of love, and dirty little thoughts. But when he got like this, when his words turned you to a mess of a puddle while he indulged the both of you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting under him.
The two of you had a certain kind of completeness when you had sex – a passionate unity that worked together. He would let you take charge when you wanted, so attentive to what you needed and loving nothing more than seeing you get off.
But sometimes you set off a certain stir deep in his stomach, that had him wanting to pin you down and be as unrelenting as he could until you were screaming his name.
His desire grew the louder you got, the desire to make you come and the desire for you¸ as simple as that. Every sweet vibration through your chest, every quiet whimper and every call of his name that you unashamedly whimpered out. He knew the more he teased the more desperate you’d get, and he also knew it wouldn’t take much asking on your part for him to give in to anything you wanted.
After a particularly harsh tug to his hair, he lifted his mouth from where it was paying you attention and you let out an even louder whine in the absence of his touch.  
“Harry,” you moaned sweetly, your eyes boring into his, both holding intense stares while you were positively begging for him. “Please make me come.”
His lips brushed over your thigh once again, looking up at you through his eyelashes as you pleaded for him to touch you. He didn’t say anything, and instead dragged his free hand around your thigh and to your centre, until he had two fingers dragged through the wetness created both by your arousal and his saliva.
You let out a heavy breath at the touch, chest quickly rising and falling while your heartbeat thundered in your ears. Harry watched as the swell of your breasts strained against the soft blue fabric, pausing for a moment as he wanted to keep your fingers interlocked but also wanted to feel up the skin of your chest.
Deciding on the former, he kept your hands together and pressed the back of your hand further into the cushions of the couch. His other hand was trailing lower, his fingers now slick with you around your entrance before he pushed into you with ease.
You moaned under his touch, the fullness of his fingers inside of you had you twisting your hips over the couch as you ached to feel him hit that delicious spot inside of you.
His mouth was back over the inside of your thighs, your skin burning under his touch when he kissed over the little red marks that he had earlier made, just as they were starting to darken in colour. He was all over you at once open lips back over your clit and licking deeply with determined moves of his tongue over you. His fingers slowly began to move inside of you, curling the two digits up as he gained a steady pace and repeatedly hit that smooth spongey spot inside of you that made your vision blur and your toes curl.
You were having trouble keeping your eyes open, letting your head fall back once more as your free hand pulled at his hair, subconsciously matching the brushes of your hand with his slow strokes. Your other hand was pulling at Harry’s, squeezing it so tightly as he was working you up.
The familiar burning in your lower belly was growing hotter and hotter, tight coil getting closer to snapping. You could feel his nose pressed against your pelvis, his chin bumping his own fingers after particularly harsh thrusts – he was completely buried between your thighs. You were sure to be making a mess over his lower face, the thought making you squirm even more in his touch.
Letting out a loud gasp at the low vibrations that were felt when Harry moaned, when he muttered quiet words that demanded all of your attention to figure out what he was saying.
“This what you wanted, sunshine?” He pulled his lips away, loud kisses over your thighs as he watched you slowly unravel under him, refusing to keep his mouth off any part of you.
He couldn’t choose where he wanted to keep his gaze. At your soft blissed out face with your lips under your teeth and fluttering eyelids, or at the expanse of your chest with the beautiful garment that graced your skin, or right in front of him at your swollen cunt that was shining in arousal and at the way his fingers sank into of you.
The music was still softly playing the background, a quiet secondary noise to every melodic moan that was sounding from your throat, the music in fact all but forgotten when obscenely wet sounds filled the space once more.
“Oh – Harry,” you moaned when his tongue was back over you, knowing you were growing closer to your release from the way you clenched around his fingers.
“Feels good?” He asked, as if it wasn’t already obvious.
You whined with a nod, holding onto him as tightly as you could. “So good – fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking up when your climax was right around the corner. Words were spilling from your mouth, sentences jumbling without much sense. “Love you so –”
He hummed over you, his hand giving yours a few quick squeezes as he felt you clench around his fingers. Again, he murmured something that you couldn’t even begin to make out, focusing on his touch rather than his words.
“Y’love me?” His voice rang through yours ear, suddenly louder than your thundering heartbeat.
“Yeah,” your voice was a dreamy breath of air. “I do.”
He mumbled something that sounded like a “fucking love you,” before you were meeting your release against his mouth and around his fingers. He didn’t relent, mouth hot and open over you with continuous tugs to your clit as his fingers pushed so deeply inside of you.
You moaned low in your chest as you came, every touch of his skin on yours sending electricity through your nerves. Your legs jolted from around him at the sensitivity of your clit, as he kept sliding his tongue over the bundle of nerves while you calmed down from your orgasm.
Eyes parting open, you saw Harry pull away from between your legs as he fully sat back on his legs and withdrew his fingers from you. With his fingertips trailing down your thighs, he rose his slicked fingers up to his mouth to taste every last bit of you.
Your breath was coming out unevenly, and you nearly moaned at the erotic sight before you. His wet lips kissed your knee once more, his voice was low, laced with desire when he spoke your name. “How was that?”
You didn’t answer right away, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook with a happy laugh. Pushing yourself up from the couch, you used all the strength in your shaky legs to slide off the furniture and into the lap of your lover.  
“Just like the first time,” you breathed, words fanning over his chin as he easily held you in an embrace.
He felt like he was losing feeling in his legs, small soreness in his knees so he shifted you over him until he was able to extend his legs out over the floor and you could straddle his thighs. Completely removing the skirt, you tossed it aside as you were left in only your lingerie. Upon his request, you had slid your underwear back on instead of letting it fall to the floor. He hummed against you when you easily fell back into each other, lips seeking your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.
Slowly grinding your hips over his, every inch of him hard underneath you could be felt. Harry rolled his head back on his neck, exposing the expanse of skin to you as you repeated the motion over his hips.
Taking the chance to lean in closer, your lips landed over his neck in light sucks of kisses. “Love you,” he whispered into the air, fingertips digging into the skin of your waist.
“Yeah?” You hummed over his skin, licking a strip up the column of his neck. One of your hands danced along his throat, tracing down until your fingers were following the dip of his collarbone and circling around his back. “Do you?”
“You have no idea,” he breathed, chin dipping down once again as his nose nudged yours when he sought out your lips.
Leaving kiss up over his cheek, you didn’t stop until your teeth lightly tugged at his earlobe. “How do you want me?”
You felt his hands brush along your bare back, slow and steady movements that juxtaposed with both of your rapidly beating hearts.
“Pull me out, angel,” he already felt your hands playing with the waistband of his pants, soft tugs at the rough fabric.
As your fingers made quick work to pull at the zipper of his trousers, he momentarily lifted his hands from your body so that he could pull his shirt up over his head. His skin was warm when he wrapped his arms around once again, shifting his hips so that you could move his pants and briefs down together in one swift move.
Having to lift off him so that you could completely let the clothes fall from his legs, you pushed the heap of fabric aside before quickly settling back into his lap. His cock looked painfully hard, a soft curve upwards that led to his raspberry red tip.
Your hands were on him within seconds, bowing your head in the small space between the two of you. Pursing your lips, you let spit fall from your mouth and onto his length. Sliding your hands over the wetness, Harry gently groaned your name with a tight grab at your hips when you squeezed him in your grasp.
“Please,” he quietly cursed, watching you with darkened eyes as another moan tumbled from his mouth. “Wanna feel you –”
You pressed a kiss over his cupid’s bow. “Like this?” You smiled gently against his mouth, “on the floor?”
He returned your smile hands on either side of you as he tried to pull you closer to where he wanted you sat over him. “Just like our first date, yeah?”
Breathy laugh at his words, you slowly nodded and shifted your hips higher. You were about to grab at the elastics of your underwear, going to pull them back down over your hips but Harry was quick to stop you. “Keep ‘em on,” he whispered, silly little smirk playing at his lips, “just push them aside.”
Folding your lips into your mouth, you bit back a smile as you knew he’d ask you to keep the bra on as well. Doing as he wanted, you rose a hand from his shoulder to pull the front of your underwear to the side, with the other hand still keeping a firm grasp over his cock. He was supporting himself up with on hand on the floor behind him, so that he could remain so close to you. His legs bent at the knee, making you edge towards him with your chests nearly pressed together, and the soft move prompted you to slide the head of his cock through your folds.
Easing him in with a slow move, you lowered your hips as he filled you so deeply until you were sat completely flush together. His chest shook with a moan as you did so, hands squeezing into your thighs as you both sat motionless for a moment.
He fit so deeply into you, with the slight stretch that always felt brand new. You rose your hands to wrap around his shoulders, nails nearly clawing at his skin to pull him in for a kiss.
“You feel perfect,” he moaned against your mouth, guiding your hips to urge you to move in small grinds over his. “Squeezing me so tight.”
With you both sat upright, he always felt even deeper inside of you in this position. You ground your hips in slow circles, starting to move in teasing grinds, before lifting yourself up over him and then back down in a sharper thrust than you’d intended.
You moaned over him, head falling into the crook of his neck as you muttered something about how deep he felt inside of you.
Repeating the motion, Harry planted his feet over the floor with an even greater bend to his legs that had your seated so fully against him. He met your moves, slow and sharp thrusts between your legs that already had you working towards a second orgasm.
One of his hands skimmed over your hips, sliding between your bodies with as his fingers applied a light pressure to your lower belly. His voice was gravelly when he moaned into your cheek. “Feel me right here?”
“Yeah,” you sighed dreamily, eyes shutting close with a harsh bite to your bottom lip. You tilted your head back up, another deep thrust inside of you. “Always so deep.”
Harry’s hand found its way to your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing gentle action. He quietly urged you to open your eyes for him, to stare into his as he wanted you to see how good you were making him feel.
You saw him with slightly bloodshot eyes, cheeks tinted pink and a light dewiness to his skin. He looked so completely blissed out, corner of his swollen lips turned to a sly smile. Bowing his head down, he attached his lips to your collarbone and left a trail of wet marks over your skin until his teeth were nipping at the swell of your breasts that were spilling out from the top of your bra.
Arching your back in his touch, you slowed the movements of your hips again and went back slow rutting, clenching around him when he whined your name with a matching squeeze of his hand that had found its hold on your hip once more.
Without much warning, he lowered himself to lay completely on the floor, back resting over the soft rug as he didn’t have the energy to hold himself up any longer. He let his knees bent further with his feet on the floor, keeping you in your place as he was able to hit slow teasing thrusts up into you.
His eyes never left you, watching you sat so beautifully as both his hands now grabbed at your hips, guiding you over him. He found it hard to look away from where you were connected, watching his slick cock disappear inside of you. “So gorgeous, sunshine,” he was muttered quietly, “how did I get so lucky?”
Both of your motions were speeding up again, his thrusts meeting yours harder than before as he found that his release was coming right around the corner. He reveled in the way his name sounded from your mouth, as you clenched tightly around him with your own orgasm seeming to approach as well.
You had flattened out your hands over the expanse of his chest, giving yourself leverage while you moved over his length. Your head hung low, nails digging into his skin when he hit that spot inside of you that made your breathing falter. “Oh…!” You whimpered wetly, “there, there please.”
His stomach clenched tightly at your cries, feeling you squeeze around him his fingers matched the squeeze around your hips. He kept going, watching you fall more and more into a whimpering mess over him until he felt like he was about to explode.
“Slow down,” he choked, a harsh hold of your thighs in an attempt to stop your rapid moves. “Slow down,” he chanted, wild moves of his eyes between your own. “Stay like this for a moment.”
Doing as he asked, you completely halted and gave yourself a moment to catch your breath. Bending down, you laid completely on top of him which gave a nice ease to your knees. Pressing your chest flush to his, your chins bumped as you smiled down at him.
He didn’t miss any more time before pressing his sweet lips over yours, kissing you with all the desire that was apparent in his eyes. Your lips parted as he pushed his tongue against yours, tasting each other for what was probably the thousandth time but it always felt like the first.
Your arms were easily all over him, nails digging into the muscles of his arms as he kissed you deeply. He pulled back with a tug to your bottom lip with his teeth, licking over the sensitive skin after releasing the plump skin.
“My sunshine,” he hummed, lips capturing your chin as he moved further down your body. Kissing over your jaw, a soft bit over just under your earlobe as he knew every spot that made you whine.
With his hands guiding your hips, you slowly began to move around him once more. Straightening out your spine to rise to a seated position, you watched as one of Harry’s hands moved forward to cup over your core, right above where you were connected.
“Won’t last much longer,” he whimpered, already working right back near his edge as soon as you started sinking back down on him.
You moaned in agreement, also easily getting worked closer to your release when he dragged his fingers over your clit in quick circles. You were both finding another steady rhythm, hips pumping together as the noise of your actions filled the room, only seeming to spur you on.
“Please come for me again,” he moaned, begging to feel you squeeze him dry. “Wanna feel you – please.”
It was like something was opened inside of you, meeting your release as he begged from under you. Moaning his name with heaving breaths, feeling your walls clench around him when your orgasm took over your body. Your thighs tensed, eyes squeezing shut with a little smile painting your mouth at the euphoria coursing through your body.
“Fuck – it’s gonna be,” your movements had slowed over him as you came, while Harry spluttered nearly incoherently, “– I’m coming.” He warned, a sharp thrust up into you before he was painting your walls with his release. Sloppy thrusts inside of you while pulling at your hips, grabbing over the small of your back to hug you close while calling your name over and over like it was a song that was stuck in his head.
Your chest fell over his with a heaviness that neither of you minded, revelling the complete closeness you had to the other in that moment. His chest was rising and falling with quick breaths, lips over your hairline as he peppered the lightest of kisses laced with praises for you.
Eventually, you lifted your upper half and parted your eyes to gaze down at the man below you. Pressing your mouth over his, you felt him smile under your touch as you murmured a soft, “happy Valentine’s Day.”
His own eyes parted, watching you with nothing but love his in softened eyes, as you pressed another whisper to his mouth. “Thank you for being my Valentine.”
You’d always felt comfortable with Harry, but for some reason at this moment you felt better than you ever had with him. The way he looked at you like you hung the moon, the way he softly whispered your name as his lips sought to touch any part of you.
Harry returned the affection, quiet “I love you’s” pressed into your skin before you were moving off of him with shaky legs.
He followed when you rose to your feet, the painting long forgotten by now as you both went to the washroom to get cleaned up. Your makeup had been ruined once more, eyeliner smudged by your teary eyes so you ended up scrubbing it all off, completely your skincare before changing into a cozy stolen hoodie and settled into your partner’s bed.
Harry soon joined, only in a pair of sweatpants and the forgotten chocolates from earlier in hand. He settled in under the covers with you, as you both shared chocolates and chocolate flavoured kisses.
“How about you,” you started with a quiet murmur as your head rested over Harry’s shoulder. The chocolates were on your lap, one of Harry’s arms around you as peered down at you. “When did you know you liked me?”
You saw Harry’s lips perk from the corner of your eye. He thought it over for barely a second, before answering. “Is it too cheesy to say the first time I saw you?”
Nodding your head with a little laugh, although you melted further into him at the tenderness of his words. “Yes, it is too cheesy.”
“Fine,” his lips pursed with an overly dramatic pout, and he took another minute to think. “When I ran into you at the supermarket that one evening,” he thought back to the memory, “I remember seeing you choosing your vegetables like it was the most important decision of your life.”
You tilted your face, easily finding his lips to press a light little kiss to. “Well, maybe it was,” you whispered playfully, as he leant into your mouth when you pulled away.
Resting your temple of the curve of his shoulder once more, you kept your eyes trained on him. Harry held your gaze, mumbling quietly as his hands squeezed your arm. “You’re still looking at me like that.”
You batted your eyelashes up at him, unable to help the way your pupils were probably heart shaped at the moment. “Like what?”
“You know like what.”
Your smile deepened. “Can’t help it.”
Sighing happily next to him, you melted a bit more into his side as he held you closer. His lips smoothed over the top of your head, mumbling sweetly, “me neither, sunshine.”
Once again, the sweet little act of painting had led to something magical, a feeling of blissful joy you’d never thought possible until Harry came along.
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once again, happy valentines to everyone 💕 thank you for reading 💕
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realcube · 4 years ago
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haikyuu!! boys when you come out to them as bisexual  🏳️‍🌈
characters: yamaguchi, tsukishima & kenma
part two!!
tw// fem!reader, fluff, coming out, 
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Tadashi Yamaguchi
ok so hot-take but i think yamaguchi is straight
(or maybe bi but with a heavy preference for females)
but rn he identifies as straight 
but like..he’s so supportive of the lgbtq+ community
like tsukishima gives off ‘gay but homophobic’ energy
but yamaguchi has ‘straight but a strong ally’ energy
and this is hugely bc while tsukishima fell down the alt-right pipeline, yamaguchi was going through that ‘women 😍🤩💕’  phase which i think every WLW has went through at one point
like while tsukishima was watching ‘sjw get rekt compliation #125′ , yamaguchi was watching those heart-wrenching lgbtq+ short films on youtube 
and on tiktok his fyp was probably originally cottagecore (bc it’s his ideal lifestyle ofc) and somehow he is now kinda on sapphic cottagecore tiktok 
like not to fetishize them or anything, just bc he’s awed by how in love they are and that’s kinda what he wants for himself
(also he uses them as date inspo for you and him DFBZVAYUL)
anyway this was just my lengthened explanation as to why - unbeknownst to you or anyone - he was an ally to the lgbtq+ community (if not apart of it)
you didn’t really expect him to be disgusted or unsupportive of it tbh - i mean, it’s tadashi ffs! 💞 you know he’d never break up with you or judge you for something like that, but that didn’t stop you from being slightly nervous
but he was ten times more nervous when you texted him, asking for him to meet you by the local park’s fountain bc you had something important to tell him
mans thought you were dying ngl
he almost burst out crying on the walk to the park bc he imagined a whole scenario where he was sitting next to your fkn death-bed 
but you seemed healthy enough so his next assumption was that you were going to break-up with him
so when he approached you by the water fountain and you noticed that his eyes were glossy and his hair was damp with sweat, you were quite worried for him now
‘tadashi! are you okay?! your eyes are all puffy and red! do you have hay fever?’
yamaguchi rapidly shook his head, hastily escorting you to a nearby park bench so you could sit down beside him, ‘it’s nothing; what is it that you want to tell me?’
‘oh’ you choked, quickly averting your gaze from his kind, damp eyes. ‘it’s- um, i don’t-’ you cut yourself off, mentally cursing at yourself as you had practised what you were going to say to him hundreds of times before he arrived yet you still couldn’t stammer it out
yamaguchi was hanging on each word you uttered, but once he noticed that you were struggling, he placed his hands upon yours and shot you a reassuring smile
you let out a sigh in hopes to relieve your nerves while rehearsing what you were gonna say one more time in your head before blurting it out,
‘babe, erm, i’ve been questioning for a while and i’ve concluded that i’m bi - as in bisexual; and i just thought i’d tell you bec--’
you genuinely thought that you might have to explain to yamaguchi what bisexual means so IMAGINE your surprise when he simply replies, ‘you’re bisexual? is that all you wanted to tell me?’ and once you hum in agreement, he lets out a heave of euphoric relief
‘(y/n), please don’t make fun of me but on the way here, i was almost gonna cry because i thought you were going to tell me something horrible.’ he clutched his chest, breathing heavily - usually he’d never admit to something like that but right now, he felt that it was appropriate
you snickered at his rather exaggerated actions, ‘awh, baby. i’m sorry.’ a pout formed on your lips as you soothingly rubbed his back.
yamaguchi rapidly shook his head before turning the tables and rubbing your back instead, ‘nonono, it’s fine! i’m fine!- and i’m glad you’re fine too.’ he stumbled, hastily placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear, ‘i’m so proud of you. congratulations!’
although you couldn’t see his face, you could tell from his light voice that he was beaming 
after that, he buried his nose into the crook of you neck and snaked his arms around your waist to pull you into a hug, which you both stayed in for a good 5 minutes
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Kei Tsukishima
let’s be honest, tsukki’s definitely part of the lgbtq+ community but in deep denial
like if you ask him, he’s not even questioning his gender or sexuality, he’s just ✨straight ✨
so when you just randomly joked one day ‘oi, four-eyes, turn this shit off. she’s too much for my lil’ bi heart to handle.’ while y’all were watching a movie and you instinctively made an off-hand comment about how gorgeous the female lead was 
upon realising what you just said, you turned to him with the most awkward grin plastered on your face, ‘tsukki, i’m bisexual, by the way.’
‘no shit, sherlock.’ he hissed at your use of that little nickname 
you turned your head to look at him as you blinked rapidly, finally  mentally processing his response 
while he did the exact same thing simultaneously, dramatically turning his head to meet your gaze before muttering, ‘was that you coming out?’
your eyes widened as you realised, then nodded slowly
tsukishima smirked, shifting his attention back onto the movie, ‘congrats.’ he spoke in a mellow voice, a slight sense of amiability laced into his tone 
‘thanks-’
‘have you told your parents yet?’ he quirked a brow, his eyes remaining glued to the screen
you hesitated before shaking your head, ‘no.’ 
‘what about your friends?’
‘yeah, i came out to my friend group a few months ago - along with yamaguchi.’
tsukishima couldn’t help but frown at the fact you came out to yamaguchi before him but honestly, he couldn’t blame you - he was aware that his bitchy exterior probably discouraged you from telling him sooner, so he was just glad that you had the confidence to tell him eventually  
‘so how long have you known that you’re, like, y’know, bi?’  he inquired further
‘a while.’ you hummed, biting your bottom lip, internally so relieved that he wasn’t being too awkward or weird about it
‘good for you.’ he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, not a hint of sarcasm or irony detected in his voice for a change, ‘oh, and good luck with coming out to your parents’
‘thank you.’ you murmur, happily shifting your attention back onto the movie
 tsukishima honestly doesn’t mind/care tbh
like he’s supportive and will beat a bitch up if they don’t accept you - but in general, he thinks that it’s none of his business who you love
as long as it is him (ಥ _ ಥ) 
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Kenma Kuzome
ok so fun story 
you were both chilling in his room on a saturday, he was playing on his nintendo switch as always and you were on your phone
you had been meaning to come out to him for a while now but every time you tried, it seemed as though something happened to prevent you from doing so 
for example, you tried to come out to him while y’all were chilling at the park but then a bunch of geese started terrorizing y’all and it completely ruined the mood
so you thought that now you were in his room - where there was less of an abundance of geese - it’d be a better time than any to just lift the burden that had been weighing on your chest
you were as nervous as any one would be but you kept on trying to reassure yourself that kenma would be supportive 
however, he had never discussed any lgbtq+ related issues with you so you had no idea where he stood with that sort of stuff but tbh, he doesn’t give off homophobic vibes 
after a while of staring at the wall and working up the courage, you finally spoke up, ‘hey, kenma. i think i might be bi.’
you mentally cursed at yourself as you didn’t ‘think’ that you are bi but rather you knew that you are bi, yet you felt the need to add that filler just in case things went sour
he perked up upon hearing this and turned to look at you, a small smile gracing his lips, ‘okay, that’s cool. congratulations.’ 
you couldn’t help but beam back at him, ‘thanks, babe.’ you almost whispered, gladly going back to whatever you were doing on your phone
honestly, you were happy to leave the interaction at that - i mean, his brief and calm response was satisfying beyond expected, as it was probably the least awkward way that could’ve possibly gone down
however, what happened next filled you with endless amounts of euphoria 
‘oh, and (y/n).’ kenma said to grab your attention, ‘i’m bisexual.’
you did a double-take 
your instincts told you to throw yourself into his arms and rave on about how proud you are that he had the courage to come out but after a moment of reflection, you had a better idea
‘okay, that’s cool. congratulations.’
kenma automatically pouted at how you used his own words against him when he was clearly expecting a hug, ‘(y/n)..’ he whined lowly, shifting his gaze back onto his game
but you were weak so ofc you pulled him into a hug as you both muttered sweet, reassuring things into each other’s ears
‘i love you so much, (y/n) no matter what.’
‘i know.’ you snickered.
‘bitch-’
‘i love you too. and i’m so proud of you for coming out - you’re so brave.’
‘aw, thanks. so are you, babe.’
‘i know’
kenma playfully nibbled at your neck for being such a clown during a sentimental moment
but anyway, you helped kenma come out so- yeah :))
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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago
Text
Title: A Hoarding Problem.
Pairing: Pro-Hero!Yandere!Touya/Reader (Boku No Hero Academia).
Word Count: 2.5k
Synopsis: Todoroki Touya has a problem, and he’s not sure he wants to fix it.
TW: Hero AU, Minor Spoilers, Kidnapping, Mutual Extortion, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Bondage, Implied Infantilization, Mention of Sedatives (No Actual Use), and Themes of Poverty. 
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Todoroki Touya had a problem.
He had a lot of problems, technically. His secretary always managed to schedule the most important meetings at the least convenient times, his coffee never seemed hot enough but always burnt his tongue, and despite his fame and wealth and strange, cult-like popularity, the only thing journalists ever seemed to want to talk about was his father, why Touya didn’t inherit the ‘Endeavour’ title, how long it’d take him to live up to all those stacking, swelling expectations. He had a lot of problems, dozens, hundreds. He had a lot. Everyone did, but Touya didn’t have to deal with everyone else’s.
He just had to deal with you.
You were one of those concentrated types, your smile always a little too personal and your stare always a little too intense, like you were trying to see how much his organs would go for on the black-market before you bothered to cut him open. You were put together, too, and if he hadn’t taken the liberty of following you home so many times, he never would’ve guessed you were staying at some cheap, back-alley motel, the kind meant for people who just wanted to be anywhere but the place they used to be. A run-away, he’d guessed, at first, but you were too old for that, and you were too good at pretending you weren’t living out of the suitcase Touya was starting to get tired of rummaging through. Maybe you were a petty criminal, a villain too minor to be on his radar - he didn’t know, and he really wasn’t interested in finding out. All that mattered to him was that he’d met you, decided he liked you, and hadn’t been able to think about much else since. It was an issue, really, and it was starting to get in the way of his work. It was starting to get in the way of everything.
But, he’d had this kind of problem before. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle it.
You seemed to want to be handled, too.
You were laughing, again, but he wasn’t really sure why. It might’ve been something he said, your own little joke, but he didn’t mind the sound, all bells and wind chimes and a practiced ease that threatened to divert his focus, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. You were slumped in the passenger seat, and if he checked, he was sure you’d be looking out the window, counting turns, memorizing street names, doing what little you could to track the convoluted, darkened route he’d been sure to plan out days ago. You’d come willingly, but you wanted to make sure you’d be able to find your way back without his help. For his own sake, Touya pretended you were just being cautious. 
“I didn’t expect a Hero to live so far from the city.” Your voice was just as light, just a notch more confident than it had been at the convenience store you both frequented, the one you’d been working at when he stumbled in, closer to sunrise than sunset and ready to fall in love with the first person who smiled at him. The job hadn’t lasted, but Touya couldn’t think of a reason to mourn the loss. You wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take him up on his offer, if you still had a steady income. “Didn’t mark you down as one of those ‘cabin in the woods’ types, either. I’m not going to find, like, a box of dismembered body parts or anything, right?” 
“Obviously,” He scoffed, his tone just playful enough to be disarming. “I try to keep my victims in one piece. Hackjobs aren’t as satisfying as you’d think.”
That earned a jab to his side, an offended ‘my hackjob would be’, but you lost interest in the exchange as soon as he reached the driveway, coming to a stop in front of that sprawling, climbing villa, three stories of concrete and glass, a stark contrast from the forest that surrounded it. You took a moment to take it in, scanning over the building, a predator evaluating its docile prey. When you turned towards Touya, your smile was just a little wider, your expression just a little brighter. “I really can’t thank you enough,” You went on, your tone so sentimental, Touya could almost ignore the hollowness behind it. “You sure you’re alright with this? My last place fell through, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere else to--”
“Don’t worry about that. All this is curtesy of the Hero Commission, and they don’t keep track of who comes ang goes.” Touya didn’t wait for you to finish, he didn’t have to, even if he did let himself enjoy your faux-gratitude as he undid his seatbelt. “Besides, it’s my job, right? I wouldn't want to find out you went and got yourself hurt because I couldn’t be bothered to clean out my guest room.” There was a slight pause, a short hesitation. You flinched when he raised his hand, but you didn’t pull away as he cupped your cheek, only learning into his warm palm. “Besides, I can’t say I’d mind a little company, all alone out here.”
In his defense, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Really, he wasn’t that mean, but he didn’t have a chance to refuse, not before your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, all sudden passion and over-eager excitement. He was stunned, at first, but Touya recovered quickly. Biting back a smirk, he leaned into the gesture, slinging an arm around your hip, tilting your head back and doing whatever he could to bring you close, to keep you close, just like he’d been dying to for months, now. He could feel you stifle a laugh, moving to pull away, but Touya only drifted to your neck, nipping at the edge of your jaw before he found your jugular, aiming for the sensitive area just above it. You only chuckled, blunt nails running over his scalp. “And I thought I was the needy one,” You chided, half-hearted pushing at his chest. “It’s cold out here, Todoroki. At least take me inside first.” 
Right. Of course. He got carried away.
He almost forgot why you were actually here.
He didn’t let you go. He didn’t want to, so he didn’t bother trying, pulling you over the center console in one swift motion, leaving you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder and an arm under your thighs, supporting your weight as he jerkily kicked open the door, letting you duck your head and giggle, always giggling, always trying to pretend to be meek and harmless and innocent. He wondered if you’d stop, eventually, if you’d drop the act once he decided both of you should show your true colors. He’d be lying if he said he hated the idea of choking it out of you. 
The front door wasn’t locked. He didn’t bother, not with his profession, not when he knew he’d be coming home with you, tonight. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to mind, focusing on locking your ankles behind his back, on swallowing down that small, pained groan as he slammed your back into the nearest wall of his darkened villa just a little too hard, pretending not to notice as your smile wavered in the minimal light. “I don’t think this counts as protecting the--” 
You were cut off by a loud thud, metallic and hollow, like someone hitting drywall with a baseball bat. You paused, for a second, your gaze flickering to the space behind him, but he was quick to kiss your cheek, to bring your attention back to where it should be, on him. “‘s just my roommate,” He mumbled, hoping you’d be too used to the excuse to linger on it. “Don’t pay it too much mind. He’s probably just fucking around.” 
This time, your smile dropped completely. “The Hero Commission... lets you have a roommate?” 
He caught his mistake a second too late. He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but another noise interrupted him, a rattling this time, followed by another deafening, irritating thud. He grit his teeth, but you only stiffened, your next shove to his chest a little more insistent than the last. “He might be hurt,” You started, the concern in your voice more genuine than it’d been all night. “We should check on him, that sounds--” 
“It’ll be fine.” He spoke a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. Instantly, your eyes widened, your entire body going tense against his, and Touya had to fight not to lose his composure completely. It was too soon. It was too early. He wanted to be sweet. He didn’t want to be mean, not with you. “Just ignore it, sweetheart, it’s not important. You’re here for me, right? The brat shouldn’t--” 
It was a slip-up. A petname so common, he hardly noticed he’d said it until you were scrambling, writhing, digging your nails into his biceps deep enough to break the skin, forcing him to let you go out reflex alone. You barely managed to catch yourself, but you stayed on your feet, shoving past Touya while he was still hissing out curses, clutching at bleeding wounds and broken scars. There was another thud, and you moved to sprint in the direction it’d come from, but he was a Hero, he was trained for this. You were on the ground before you could take a step, Touya straddling your stomach, his hands around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, though, he didn’t want to strangle you. He was going to be patient. This was going to be different. “Just behave,” He growled, fighting to hold onto the last threads of his restraint. “It’s not important. I’m important, and that’s all you have to care about. That’s all you’re ever going to care about, from now on.”
You didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished, you were jerking forward, your forehead colliding with his and forcing a ragged scream from both of you. He’d give you credit for that. Villains and Heroes fought with quirks, specialized weapons, tactics and strategies and purpose. This was blunt. This was thoughtless. It was impulsive, and it was stupid, and it worked, letting you push him away as he recoiled, suddenly too focused on his pounding skull to care about what you might find. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. None of your little tantrums would.
He’d find you, eventually. After that, the results would be the same.
That might’ve been why Touya took his time, pushing himself to his feet slowly, following the sound of your footsteps before they abruptly stopped. He tried not to be bothered by it, even if there was a familiar pang of anxiety when he saw you, your mouth agape and your body slack, leaning against a door that should not be open. He might’ve walked a little faster, out of habit, but if you noticed him, you were too distracted to care. He couldn’t blame you. Not when he knew what you were looking at. 
He got a little carried away, with the girls’ room. Pale pink paint coated on every surface, fairy-lights strung along the ceiling, and a white, circular rug, fluffy and stainless and just small enough to stop before it reached the three cots, settled along each of the walls, each with its own frilly sheets and plush mattress and bare, metallic frame, something Touya might’ve considered swapping out if their opponents were a little more grateful. Two were empty, the first a spare if he needed room for a future ‘guest’ and the second a reminder to check on the bitch in his basement, and the third was on its side. That was what you were focusing on, what he couldn’t seem to pull you away from as he slotted himself against your back, wrapping an arm loosely around your waist. 
That, and the girl sitting in front of it, a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and a collar around her neck, thick and leathery and attached to a chain, keeping her tethered to the nearest wall. There were a few noticeable dents in the plaster around her bracket, but Touya had better things to worry about. 
There was a garbled scream, something that might’ve been a warning, but Touya silenced her off with a glare sharp enough cut glass. “Shut it,” He barked, all pretense of patience gone. “Shut up, or you’re going to spend the next week in a muzzle. I’ll deal with you later.”
“You kidnapped her.” At least you waited your turn, even if the delay did little too soften the disgust in your voice. “You’re a monster. You’re supposed to be--” 
“A hero?” You tried to shove him away, to pry him off of you, but he only tightened his grip. “And you’re supposed to be an innocent civilian, aren’t you? Something soft and appreciative I can feel good about helping, fuck, and forget about the next day, right?” 
“Don’t try to--” 
“Where do you keep the bottle, sweetheart?” Now, it was your turn to go tense, to know he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t be pretty, if we start off this relationship on a bad foot.” 
You hesitated, for a moment. He saw your swallow, watched your eyes dart towards anything that could’ve been considered a weapon, but his fingers slipped under your shirt and you bowed your head, giving in at the slightest threat of something worse. He liked that about you. Such a simple thing, too afraid of pain to take the risk. “My jacket. There are pockets on the inside - it’s on the right.” 
He’d give you credit. It looked realistic, if nothing else, a translucent orange bottle with a white lid, the label scratched off in a way that could’ve been mistaken for nervous fidgeting, if Touya didn’t know better. With one hand, he popped off the lid, barely glancing at the unmarked pills inside before letting out a pleased hum. 
Sedatives. Not lethal, but effective. The type you could get from any low-ranking Villain with a surplus supply and a greater need for clients than most. 
The type that could be slipped into wine glasses, mixed into water. The type that’d keep your trusting, unsuspecting host nice and unconscious while you helped yourself to anything that wasn’t nailed down. While you robbed him blind, stowed yourself away in another cheap motel room two towns over, and scouted for the next poor guy who’d be too embarrassed to say anything.
Touya couldn’t help himself. He laughed, loudly and shamelessly, watching as you withered, glaring at the tiled floor. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of loathing, half-suspended terror or that deep, ingrained hatred any good predator should feel when it’s caught in a trap, but your voice couldn’t have made it more clear. “What’s your plan?” You spat, all humiliation, all spirited, adorable anger. His grin widened, the lasting tension in his shoulders dissolving, but if you noticed how much he enjoyed your little show, you didn’t bother trying to keep your mouth shut. “Arrest me? Hand me over to the police and let me tell them all about your creepy, fucked-up dollhouse?” You never looked up. You never so much as tried to meet his eyes, let alone glance at the ‘victim’ you’d been so intent on saving a few minutes ago. “Let me go. You don’t have another choice, unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.” 
“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna kill you.” It wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t seem to believe him, going rigid as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. It was a fleeting gesture, but he didn’t let himself linger. He’d have plenty of time for that once he got you used to your new role, under his care. Once you got used to him. “I’m not gonna hand you over, either. That’d just be a waste.”
He might’ve been a little mean, after all. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given you so much time to answer, so much time to tremble. At least you didn’t try to get away, this time. You were already learning. “I… I don’t--” 
“I’m going to take care of you, angel. Just like I’m taking care of her.”
There was a moment of stillness, a small, ragged sob, but Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but satisfied. 
Because Todoroki Touya had a problem. Because he was awful and hungry and greedy, and he had a problem.
And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fix it.
425 notes · View notes
comfortwriting · 4 years ago
Text
I Prefer You - F.W
Fred Weasley x Fem reader 
Masterlist , Request Rules , Writing Prompts
About: The reader is best friends with the Weasley twins, whilst studying with them, Cedric Diggory shows up and confesses his love for her. Little does the reader know, Fred is also in love with her. She finds herself having to deal with Fred and Cedric competing for her love and in the end she has to choose one.
Warnings: love triangle, major fluff! 
“I wish he’d stop staring at you” Fred huffed, staring at the popular Hufflepuff student who couldn’t take his eyes off you.
George looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Cedric, turning back around and tapping the book you were reading. 
“He’s been at it since you bloody walked in.” George spoke up, trying his best to not notify the whole library. 
You smirked and stopped focusing on your DADA homework, looking up you caught Cedric’s glance, his pearly white teeth twinkling as he smiled, his grey eyes radiating love towards you. You smiled back and waved at him, looking back down at your work and chuckling.
Fred didn’t like the way you looked at Cedric, in fact he hated it, he hated that Cedric had to be staring at you and not his handful of fangirls that constantly flocked around him everywhere he went. 
“Oh do give over” Fred huffed again, looking at you “you can’t be seriously entertaining that air head.” 
You looked up from your work again and looked at Fred, his facial expression hardened and you could tell that he was in no mood to joke around, you opened your mouth to ask what his problem was but Cedric had already walked over to you, practicing his lines. 
“Y/N, may I have a word?” Cedric asked politely, his soft voice almost putting you in a trance. 
“Whatever you’ve got to say just spit it out, Ced.” Fred interrupted, fidgeting in his chair.
George smirked “Yeah, Ced. What's the big deal?”
Cedric pursed his lips trying not to laugh, he knew the twins were doing this on purpose but he wouldn't allow them to get in the way of what he wanted, even if they had more influence over you than he did.
Cedric looked at Fred and George and nodded “Alright then” he cleared his throat and looked back at you “Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend on a date.” 
The four of you went silent for a moment, Fred’s heart rate elevated and he felt like jumping out of his chair and battering Cedric for making a move on his girl - but then Fred realised that he had never told you how he felt, he always assumed the two of you would have a moment but it never happened and it certainly wouldn't now thanks to Cedric. 
George stared at his brother, preparing himself to hold him back if he tried to go for Cedric, and you - you were sat in your chair feeling flattered that someone had asked such a thing, that someone saw something in you for the first time. After all, you were hoping Fred would gain feelings for you like you did for him, but in your mind, Fred wasn’t interested in being anything more than best friends. 
You blushed and nodded “I would love to” you smiled back at Cedric, cracking Fred’s heart.
Cedric chuckled and licked his lips, nodding his head, looking incredibly proud with himself “I’ll see you Saturday” he replied, walking away. 
“And in class!” you reminded him, shaking your head and closing your book. 
Five days, you had five days until your big date with Cedric and funnily enough, Fred was more nervous than you were. 
“Are you actually going with him?” Fred asked, stabbing his slice of chicken breast with his fork. 
You could tell Fred was irritated, annoyed, but you couldn’t understand why. You thought after all the other people you had brought up he would finally approve of the student who went ahead and made a move on you. 
You looked at Fred and swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice, you placed your Goblet back down on the table. “I said yes didn’t I? Why are you so bothered about it, Fred?” 
George nudged Fred and whispered in his ear “just tell her, Freddie.”
You looked at Fred and started to slice your own chicken breast into strips “tell me what?” you shoved a strip into your mouth and started to chew.
Fred sighed and gave in, looking at George before focusing on you. “I fancy you alright, I’ve been after you since third year and as soon as that plonker shows up you’re all giggly.”
You inhaled a few dry strings of skin from the chicken breast, causing you to choke, you grabbed your goblet and downed some more juice, washing down the bits that got stuck in your throat. 
“why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you hissed at Fred “I fancy you too!” 
You didn’t mean to let that last part slip but it was already too late. 
Fred’s face turned into a massive grin, he put down his knife and fork “do you really?” 
You nodded your head and continued to eat your breakfast. 
“Brilliant, cancel your date with Cedric and we’ll go instead.” Fred looked over at the Hufflepuff table and laughed at Cedric gently buttering his toast.
You shook your head and grinned back at Fred, your plate almost empty. “No” you replied “if you want me you’ve got to prove it.” 
From Monday onwards Fred and Cedric went head to head with one another, constantly trying to one up each other and increasing how much love they were showering over you. Cedric didn’t give up all because Fred entered the picture and Fred didn’t give up as Saturday got closer.
Four Days
Walking over to you bed your jaw dropped, bouquet's of flowers littered your quilt covers and rested against your pillows, you were surrounded by sunflowers and  yellow roses, all of which were from Cedric - the yellow notes representing his house. 
As much as you loved the sentiment, flowers weren't really your thing - sure they were gorgeous and they brought you light when you looked at them but it didn’t make you double over in laughter like Fred did and everything he did for you. Instead of flowers and detailed love letters, Fred didn’t gift you anything except his biggest and most comfy jumper that his mother knitted, he also gave you his time and effort. 
You walked into the great hall wearing Fred’s jumper, his ego boosting and Cedric’s crumbling. 
“You look stunning in my clothes” Fred smirked, taking a bite out of his toast.
You blushed and sat next to him “I want more than just your jumper.”
Three Days
As much as Cedric wanted to, he didn’t have as much time as Fred - well he did - but he spent that time studying, going to extra classes and entertaining his fanbase. The only time you got with Cedric was in Herbology, he tried getting to know you better, asking you about your interests but he couldn’t make you laugh, he didn’t understand your humour. 
“I don’t understand” Cedric replied “is that supposed to be funny?”
You sighed and shook your head “it doesn’t matter, don’t sweat it Ced.”
Two Days
You and Fred bunked a few classes and went off to Hogsmeade, going crazy in Honey Dukes and even cuddling up together and sharing a Butterbeer to keep yourselves warm. The two of you stayed up all night, winding up Mr Filch and Mrs Norris, you even went into Snape’s personal stores and stole the ingredients to make a Poly Juice potion, transforming yourselves into Draco and Pansy to get them into more trouble. 
“On second thoughts, I don’t think you’re that pretty.” Fred grimaced at you.
You stared at him and walked over to him, pulling out one of his platinum blonde hairs “could say the same thing about you” you joked, both of you waiting for the potion to wear off.
One Day
“You looking forward to tomorrow then?” Fred smirked, seeing you groan in pain.
You shook your head “it’s going to be unbearable, he’s can’t make me laugh, he’s too soft, can’t take joke. I feel like he gets scared and takes things a bit too literally.”
Fred grinned and licked his lips “well I make you laugh all the time, wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve wet yourself because of me.” 
Rolling your eyes you looked over at the Hufflepuff table again, Cedric talking with his fanbase. 
“He’s got more than enough options, the majority of them girls are better suited for him than me.” 
You turned your focus back to your food and took a bite out of your sandwich.
“Aright then, if you’ve got it all figured out go and tell him.” Fred encouraged you, his ego shinning through, George just wanting the two of you to shut up and be together already. 
You knew Fred was testing you again and you didn’t want to back down, after Cedric’s offer, you and Fred were finally heading where you always wanted, you felt yourself itching for him, hungry for him, you wanted him - the more you wanted him, the less you wanted Cedric, the less the popular Hufflepuff lad stood out to you. 
“Okay then, watch me.” 
Standing up, you left your table and walked over to Cedric, his fangirls instantly looking appalled to be in your presence. You tapped him on the shoulder, Cedric turned around and smiled searching your face. 
“Y/N” his face fell when he noticed you were still wearing Fred’s jumper.
“Ced - Cedric, I’m sorry but I’ve changed my mind about tomorrow.”
The infatuated girls around him started to smile, suddenly enjoying you being around. Cedric looked upset but then again you couldn’t read into him like you could Fred, you realised that you barely knew Cedric at all - he was sending love letters and flowers to a girl he didn’t know at all.
“She’s taking her bloody time isn’t she?” George spoke up watching you.
“Shut up” Fred shushed him “wait for it”
You smiled slightly and looked at Cho for a moment who was sitting with her friends “you should ask Cho, I know she sees something in you.”
“She’s done it” Fred smirked “she’s actually done it.”
Saturday
“I still can’t believe you nearly ended up with that toss-pot.” Fred laughed, grabbing some black pepper imps. 
You grabbed some Chocolate Frogs “it’s a good job that I prefer you” holding his free hand the two of you shared a moment.
The overcrowded sweet shop suddenly felt empty, as if it were only you and Fred inside. Getting on your tiptoes and leaned in and Fred accepted, the two of you sharing the first kiss of many. 
Pulling away from the kiss, Fred grinned and licked his lips, bringing his hand up to your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“I feel like such an idiot for not telling you sooner” Fred shook his head “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything either”
“I was sort of just waiting for it to happen, I suppose we’ve got Cedric to thank for that.”
Taglist: @reeophidian , @amourtentiaa
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aliensunflower-fics · 4 years ago
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Marinette’s Big Fall: An angsty Prompt
[ I have had not one. Not two. But THREE anonymous asks for some Miraculous ladybug angst with a pinch of salt SO here you go. Also because people keep asking me if they can make fics from my prompts I will just put here that YES you can I will love you if you do, please just tag me so I can squeal. I always love fan-art and I always love fics based off my ideas just go nuts guys. ]
If you asked the students of Bustier’s classroom what happened that sunny tuesday at 1:36pm they would all tell you it was an accident. None of them had meant for anything to happen and none of them had so much as laid a finger on the dark haired girl. It was just an accident that was all, but still their faces would lose blood and they would shake as they remembered the sight of Marinette Dupain-Cheng laying still as a stone at the bottom of the stairs. If you asked them to start at the beginning they would take a shaky breath and start their tale at the first warning bell of the school day, before Marinette had arrived and when Lila Rossi did.
The italian had for months been telling them of Marinette’s misdeeds and though many were proven to be false it seemed like not a day went by where Lila didn’t have some new to say about the bakers daughter. That days newest tale was about how Marinette had ruined Lila’s photoshoot at the park with Adrien. It was suppose to be a romantic shoot for valentines day and Marinette had arrived at the park where it was taking place with little Manon. Lila claimed that Marinette bribed the child into pushing Lila into the fountain during the shoot thus ruining the whole thing and making her look bad in front of the employer. Now hearing this story the students of Bustier’s class felt mixed Marinette was prone to fits of jealousy but would she really bring a child into it? Some were angry at Marinette for her repeated felonies some were unsure and one other a certain Adrien Agreste still had no idea what everyone meant about Marinette being jealous and while he knew that Lila had ended up in the water and that it was Manon who did it... He also knew for a fact that Marinette was in no way involved.
The debate over Marinette’s innocence would last until the young designer arrived then the class would fall into steely silence all fuming and grumbling trying to justify the Marinette they knew and loved with the jealous green eyed monster Lila suffered under. As they day wore on Alya always the seeker of truth began badgering Marinette trying to get to the bottom of the whole affair, and while Marinette admitted to being at the park and admitted to babysitting Manon and yes she even confirmed that Lila wound up in the fountain she claimed no responsibility arguing that little Manon had just wanted a hug from Adrien and had accidentally shoved the italian. This information spurred only new arguments though they happened without Marinette’s knowledge in back and forth messages when the teachers back was turned. Lila meanwhile continued to weave her web sending her own messages to the class with new accusations and ‘evidence’ something had to give as the tensions rose and at exactly 1:00 when Mme. Bustier stepped out something did give indeed.
No one really remembers the argument only who was leading it. Alya was a good person a bit too trusting and maybe a bit too gullible and brash but she always protected the weak and thats why Marinette loved her. The problem was right now Alya thought the one who needed that protection was one Lila Rossi. Marinette did her best to diffuse the situation she argued that it was a child’s mistake that Lila should let it go. Alya argued that Marinette always had issues with jealousy and that she needed to fess up and apologize. Marinette would no apologize for something she didn’t do and so the argument continued, classmates joined in things got more and more heated in the spur of the moment with everyone yelling and Lila sobbing Alya snapped and said two things she never should have. One she told Marinette they were no longer friends unless Marinette stopped being jealous. And two, she revealed just why Marinette was ‘jealous’ her crush on Adrien Agreste. The moment the words left her mouth Alya was hit with regret, the moment she saw embarrassment in her friends face and tears hot and fresh welling in her eyes she was hit with shame. No one spoke as the bakers daughter let out a choked sob but suprising them all it wasn’t an accusation of anger at Alya for outing her secret that left the dark haired girls lips it was a quiet shaky and broken:
“W-Were not friends a-anymore?” Followed by yet another choked and heartbroken sob.
Before Alya or anyone could answer the girl bolted for the door shaking with sobs. Everyone stood shocked still for a moment before Adrien bolted up and rushed after the girl the rest of the class followed. But they never reached Marinette in time. In her distressed state the pigtailed girl had tried to make a break for home but she was clumsy and clumsier still when upset so when she rushed down the stair she tripped and everyone could only watch in silent horror as the bakers daughter only managed to let out a gasp before her body slammed into the hard concrete. When the students of Bustier’s recalled everything later they would note with some shock that it was Chloe who moved first yelling out Marinette’s name, not her last name no, just her name as she rushed down the stairs and to the dark haired girls side. She noted the young girl wasn’t responding and quickly snapped for Sabrina to phone an ambulance while she continued to monitor Marinette. No one else would move, Alya would cry silently and in horror as Chloe called out to Marinette and checked her pulse, Nino would clutch his hat and stare mouth agape as Marinette lay like a lifeless corpse, Adrien Agreste would fall to his knees at the top of that stairs his eyes like saucers as he tried to comprehend what had happened. And Lila Rossi? She would feel every bit of blood in her body turn into ice as guilt gripped onto her and told her that this, all of this was because of HER.
Everything that happened next was a blur, the ambulance arrived Marinette was driven away with Chloe of all people. The police arrived, Bustier and Damocles felt there sweat turn cold as they were questioned, the other students of the school would stand around murmuring and pointing at the Akuma Class Rose would hear the kinder people ask what happened in hushed tone, Juleka would hear the crueler people say that the Akuma class had tried to kill the one person they couldn’t akumatize. Soon enough parents arrived and dragged away their children Kim and Alix would notice the small patch of blood on the concrete where Marinette landed, they would later puke thinking about it, but they told no one of what they had seen.
Meanwhile on the way to the hospital Tikki was in a panic, her dearest chosen her most precious and rare creation soul was BROKEN so many bones and bits of her body were mangled beyond repair... Well beyond NORMAL repair but Tikki was a god, a sentimental god at that and she would not let heaven or hell get in the way of her helping Marinette survive no matter the cause. And so sitting silently, hidden in the girls hair out of sight of the paramedic and Chloe who was telling them all she knew of Marinette’s medical background Tikki used her magic to mend all she could, she would make sure that her sweet precious Marinette would be alright but while she mended the broken body Tikki knew that there would be a price to pay. Magic always came with a price. In the past when she’d used her magic to heal holders this way some had lost their eyesight, others their voices, some would lose a limb, Tikki had no idea that cost Marinette would pay but she knew whatever it was her precious little bug would be alright.
And she was. The doctors were shocked to find that while Marinette had a broken leg and two broken ribs, some deep cuts that would never fully heal, and some awful bruising that would leave the girl sore for who knows how long she was in fact just fine. There was no internal bleeding, and no serious brain trauma, and somehow she’d be just fine to walk when her leg healed up. Sabine and Tom cried tears of joy at the news and stayed by the young girls side. Tikki was also pleased with the news from her hidden spot where she lay utterly exhausted. She knew still that their would be a price to pay but at least Marinette was alive and well. The bakers daughter did not wake up until early the next day and when she did she was mobbed by her parents. She smiled at their concern and when the doctor came in to greet her he decided to check her memory.
“Standard procedure.” He said. “It’s not unusual for there to be some minor memory loss surrounding the incident itself were just going to check.”
And so the questions began. They started with things like her birthday, and her parents names and ages, then they moved on to recent events, so far no problems. Finally they asked about the day itself and the ��incident’ in questions Marinette opened her mouth to answer then paused thoughtfully. She couldn’t remember. Not unusual assured the doctor, and then he returned to asking other questions probing gently to ensure everything was alright, and it seemed to be up until the doctor asked a simple question.
“What’s your best friends name? And can you describe them.”
Marinette froze and stayed silent. Tikki suddenly felt a strange twist in her tummy. Sabine and Tom looked at their daughter uncertainly. Finally after a long pause. Marinette spoke with a strained laugh.
“I uhh dont remember having one sir.” Sabine felt her stomach suddenly drop, hidden away behind a plant Tikki felt the same thing.
Concerned by the answer the doctor probed more with Tom and Sabine joining in. The answers were startling. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had forgotten every single person that was present when she fell down the stairs. She could recall other students at the school and her teacher, but all the students of her own class? She could not recall their names or their faces. When her parents asked about a specific memory the first time Nino and Marinette met and became friends. Marinette’s eyes lit up. She remembered the event, she remembered someone being bullied and helping them and then they became friends. Her parents were hopeful and the doctor calmly asked Marinette to tell them who the bully was and who the person being bullied was. At that all Marinette did was frown and hold her head. She could remember the incident but... The faces of the bully and the one being bullied were blacked out she had no idea who they were. They tried asking her if she knew the bullied boys favorite things, she had no idea, his name? Nothing. Favorite color? Nope. It was odd extremely so and the only theory the doctor could offer was trauma based memory lose triggered by stress and the possible incident surrounding her accident.
Later when her parents left and it was safe. Tikki emerged and was overjoyed to learn that Marinette remembered her and being ladybug. Tikki was a bit worried about the holes in her dear chosens memories but she knew that this was the price Marinette had payed. She got to keep her life and all her limbs and eyes but she had lost something precious, her friends, they were now black holes burned into faded memories. And it extended into her superhero life. Marinette knew Rena Rouge she could remember her powers and her skill, but when Tikki asked who she was Marinette could only frown and hold her head as it throbbed. Alya, Nino, everyone even Adrien were gone, Marinette had the memories but no faces, no names, no attachment she had lost her friends. Tikki felt guilty of course and told Marinette as much but the young girl just kissed her Kwami’s head and confidently said that they would figure it out.
It had been a week sense Marinette’s big fall. And the students of Bustier’s class sat restless in their seats. None of them had been able to check up on Marinette as her parents had forbidden visitors and the bakers themselves were illusive now a days as they kept close to the hospital keeping their daughter company. All anyone knew was that Marinette was alive, and while that was great news it wasn’t enough. And to make matters perhaps more odd then Marinette’s disappearance was the complete inactivity by Hawkmoth. It was as if he was busy dealing with something else. Like maybe his teenage son who had been expressing all of his teenage rebellion and angst in a concentrated dose ever sense a certain bakers daughter had fallen down the stairs. Adrien was indeed the most miserable about the whole situation, he’d given up on bathing, moped all day, snapped at Lila for even opening her mouth, and was refusing to care for himself or attend any and all photoshoots and extra curricular activities. Adrien’s rebellion was causing big problems for Gabriel’s business and he was stuck rushing about trying to re-organize events and juggle his son who had become terrifyingly good at escaping the house to go to school no matter what kind of locks were installed.
As the day wore on for Bustier’s students ignored the looks given to them by the other students in the school. More then a few of them blamed them squarely for what had happened to Marinette while others shot them looks of sympathy or concern. The class as a whole looked like they were from a bad zombie movie, but the one who looked perhaps the worse of them all was Lila Rossi, while some would try and argue its because of how bad she felt for poor Marinette others would recognize that she seemed paranoid and on edge with her eyes darting about and how quick she was to defend herself against even the smallest assumed accusation against her. Finally lunch rolled around and like the mob of zombies they were the students of Bustier’s class walked mindlessly to the cafeteria that is until one of them spotted a familiar looking girl though her hair was no longer in pigtails and her clothing had changed it was undoubtedly her! The class rushed forward with a surge catching the attention of the whole school who watched the exchange curiously. Apologies were hurled out questions were yelled and poor Marinette looked overwhelmed silence only came when Sabine stepped forward with a warning look though there was an odd glint of pity and sadness in her eyes. Finally it was Alya who broke the silence.
“Marinette! We are SO sorry, please can you find it in your heart to forgive us?” The Ladybloger was holding back tears and no one had heard her voice that shaky before. After a long pause Marinette spoke.
“U-Umm... Hey listen I dont... Really know what your apologizing for... And uh I dont really know who you are but... Umm sure of course I forgive you! You seem very nice?”
The crowd was stunned. Marinette had no idea who ALYA was? Her best friend? The girl she’d fought with last? Sensing the tension in the room Tom gently guided Marinette away shooting Sabine an odd look. Both parents had hoped that seeing her old school would jolt Marinette’s memory but it seemed that even her best friends face wasn’t enough to bring back what had been lost. As Tom helped Marinette climb the stairs with her cast. Sabine took a deep breath and proceeded to explain what she could. That Marinette had lost... Some memories, specifically relating to people who had been around during her accident... She didn’t remember any of them and no one not even the doctors or Tikki herself could change that. As Sabine apologized for what must surely be a shock she excused herself to follow her daughter and husband to the principles office so they could discuss the situation.
For the students of the akuma class life felt like it had been turned sideways. Lila who had been consumed by guilt had begun to hyperventilate. Alya felt slapped and raw her best friend had no idea who she was and the last thing she had done before Marinette forgot all about her was denounce their friendship. For Kim and Nino their were tears and disbelief the girl that they had known sense childhood had no idea who they were and regarded them like any stranger on the side of the road. For Chloe there was the oddest feeling of heartbreak, now she would never know if Marinette could truly forgive her, because the Marinette to whom she’d been so cruel was all but gone. But it was perhaps Adrien who was hit the hardest, Adrien who had learned that Marinette liked him the day of the accident, Adrien who had watched her fall, who had not rushed to check on her, Adrien who had felt torn by guilt confused about his feelings, Adrien who felt like the world had lost the sun with Marinette gone, Adrien who had wanted Marinette to come back so he could see she was okay and ask her on the date she deserved, and now Adrien who meant nothing to her because she had no idea who he was.
As for the rest of the students of Dupont? Well many of them were overjoyed to know Marinette remembered them at least but they felt pity for the akuma class but many others wondered what the future held. Would Marinette’s old friends try and rekindle their friendships? Would they bring photos and music and videos to try and bring back the girls memories? Or would new friends take the place of the old and forgotten? Would Adrien continue down his path of rebellion fighting for a place in Marinette’s heart once more, or would he return to being a docile lamb under his fathers thumb his heart and mind numb due to the shock of it all. Would Lila Rossi return to her old ways? Would she crack under the feelings of guilt and shame? Or would she go mad and attack Marinette. How many people would forever flinch and rush to offer Marinette help whenever she so much as when near a flight of stairs? Would it be possible to anyone to reclaim Marinette’s lost memories or would new ones need to be made? No one knew. But they did know for certain that things would be different from now on.
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ironmandeficiency · 4 years ago
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that’s not a shirt
pairing: marcus pike / reader
word count: 1584
summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.
a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)
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three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.
when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.
upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.
dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.
in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.
checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.
satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.
“mroww!”
last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.
“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.
marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.
for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.
dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.
the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!
this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.
when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.
did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?
you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.
she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.
“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.
he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”
“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”
he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”
“mroww!”
“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”
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