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heisenho · 4 years ago

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Dreams

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being a maid for the Dimitrescu is all fun and games until you realize big tall vampire lady is very hot.

Warnings: 18+!! MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT! Fucking in front of a mirror, blood, swearing, oral sex (fem receiving), uuuh idk if you need any other warnings, let me know!

A/N: HEHEH DOUBLE POST DAY BABY! Posted my first heisenberg fic just a few hours ago, thought I might as well post for my wife as well! Thanks for reading, and as always, I hope you enjoy ~Beff

Being a maid for the Dimitrescu was exciting. You were obedient and soft spoken and polite, everything the Lady and her daughters could ask for. You didn’t pry, you didn’t wander where you weren’t supposed to, you did your job and you were damn good at it.

You had been very spaced out lately though. You couldn’t seem to figure out why at first, but then it clicked. When you had started work there, mostly the daughters interacted with you. You did not see The Lady very often. Suddenly, after a few weeks of working there, she showed up more often.

Her large stature (and bust) were hypnotic. You couldn’t help but stare and fumble (gayly) when she noticed your eyes glued to her beautiful ass or boobs. Your face would heat up, your eyes widening, and you’d turn immediately.

Lately you had even been dreaming of Lady Dimitrescu. A recurring dream. One where you’d accidentally hurt yourself, and she would be there beside you, checking on you, but then... She’d gently take your arm, and suck slowly on the wound, until you’d finally wake up. A heat between your legs and hunger in your eyes.

Wearing a sexy dress did not help either. You imagined Lady Dimitrescu slowly pulling it from your frame, or even ripping it off of you, violent and fast.

“Oh, dear,” You heard Lady Dimitrescu speak from behind you.

“Yes, my lady!” You turned, startled.

“I have been informed by my daughters that...” She paused. Swallowing hard, you waited for the worst. Her gloved hand moved towards the vase you had just been cleaning and she swiped it, fast. She showed you her finger and your stomach turned.

Dust.

“They informed me that you aren’t doing the best. Not anymore.”

With wide eyes, you put your hands up, “I promise, Lady Dimitrescu, I can do better! I just, I had been... Distracted-”

“Hm, what was distracting you.”

She placed her hand on her chin and cocked her head. Your breath caught in your throat and you shook your head, “I mean, no- nothing. I can handle it.”

“Obviously not. I mean, dear, I can smell your arousal from here.”

Your jaw dropped. You brought your fingers towards your bicep and gently pinched. Alcina scrunched her nose up, giving you a curious look.

“Oh, no, I’m not dreaming.”

The feeling of wanting to run rushed in all at once. You turned from the woman and almost started to take off in a sprint, until she just took one step forward and to the side, and she was in front of you. Just like that.

“I will have to punish you for trying to run if you do so again.”

You nodded, “Yes, my lady.”

“Good, you understand.” She brought her hand to your chin and lowered herself to your level, “You are very attractive, dear, very... curious... I think I can help you with your-” She paused, “Problems. If you would like that?”

You blinked a couple of times, in absolute awe of the woman in front of you. You nodded and Alcina took your hand in hers, and began to lead you upstairs to her room. Your breath hitched as you realized what was really happening. Lady Dimitrescu was taking you to her personal chambers, to (hopefully) fuck you. But... what if you were about to end up like the other maids?

Fear struck you quickly, but curiosity was taking over. You wanted to know what the Lady was about to do with you.

“Sit on my bed, dear.”

You nodded and shuffled towards the bed, watching as the tall vampiric woman slowly took her gloves off. She stalked towards you, a predator to prey, your eyes resembling that of a small doe.

“Lady Dimi-”

“Please, dear, when behind closed doors call me Alcina.”

“Yes, ma’am- Alcina.”

She smirked down at you. She fell to her knees in front of you and cocked her head at you. “The way you say my name, so soft and innocent. How about we break that?” Her cheshire smile sent chills down your spine. “Lay on your back.”

You followed her command instantly, lying flat on your back, legs hanging off the large bed. Suddenly, your dress was being moved upwards and a hand was on the elastic of your underwear. You sucked in air at the chill of her icy fingers and let out a soft mewl.

You looked at Alcina and noticed her hat was gone. She was in her dress still, leaning over you. Your eyes wandered to her breasts and you had to stop yourself from reaching out for them. You weren’t that brave, not yet.

“Are you okay with this?” She asked, one of her hands pulling at one of your thigh high socks. “Being absolutely vulnerable in front of me?”

It sounded almost rhetorical. The first part was sincere, but as soon as she brought up the vulnerability, she seemed heavily intoxicated by your innocence and vulnerability.

With a shaky voice, you replied, “Yes.” Your eyes met hers as you nodded.

“Perfect.”

Within seconds your dress was pushed up to your stomach, one sock was pushed half way down, your panties had been ripped off, and Alcina was at your cunt, breathing in your arousal.

“Hmm,” Alcina hummed, “I haven’t been this close to someone in a while. This is divine.” Her pupils were blown wide and her voice... she sounded absolutely feral.

Alcina plunged her tongue deep inside of you, licking stripes up your pussy, before reaching your clit and giving it well deserved attention. You let out a soft moan and gripped the sheets under you.

“Good girl,” Alcina praised you, causing you to grow even hotter, “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Alcina!”

Your back arched and your pushed yourself closer to Alcina, trying your best to make her pick up the speed. Her hand moved to your hip, holding you down. “Don’t be so wiggly.” She warned. You swallowed hard and nodded, mostly to yourself.

Alcina’s tongue was deep inside you, before pulling out and licking up towards your clit once more. Her tongue moved back to your entrance and her thumb pressed against your clit, moving in circles around the bundle of nerves.

“Alcina- so close, please!”

Alcina hummed against you, and you were sent over the edge immediately. Your body was shaking against her until she pulled away, smirking down at you.

“You’re wonderful,” Alcina spoke very kindly towards you, causing a heat to pool in your stomach, “let me fuck you in front of a mirror.”

All you could do was sit up and nod. Alcina nodded back and stepped away for a moment. “Get undressed, I’ll be right back.”

You slowly pulled your dress off and decided it would be best to keep your sexy little thigh highs on. You decided that, that would be a good look.

Alcina came back, a large mirror in tow. You were baffled by her strength sometimes. You were mesmerized by her constantly. She set it down in front of the bed. And you noticed just how naked you were.

“The socks, those are a nice touch.”

Alcina began to take off her dress and mumbled something about not wanting to ruin it. You wondered what she meant. She stood in front of you now, in beautiful lace underwear.

Alcina sat on the edge of the bed and patted her lap. You obliged and scooted towards her. She grabbed you, easily lifting you onto her thigh. You were facing the mirror, legs spread, straddling her right thigh. You could see your pussy perfectly in the mirror, you were almost self conscious.

“You’re so lovely aren’t you... I need you to know just how lovely you are.”

You were wet all over again. “Alcina.” You whined.

Alcina tensed the muscles in her thigh and you sighed. She gave an experimental bounce and you let out a soft moan. “Please, please let me cum again.”

“Of course, you deserve it, dear.”

“Are you not going to touch me?” You asked, deflating instantly.

“No, no, you will be getting off on my thigh, and my thigh alone.”

Instinctively, you began to grind into her thigh. Feeling Alcina bounce her leg every once in a while, with no rhyme or reason, kept you going. You were chasing a high that you needed to get from her, and from her alone.

“So good, dear,” Alcina ran her hand down the side of your ribs and you let out a mewl, crumbling onto her thigh.

“Please,” tears brimmed your eyes, “Please touch me.”

Alcina let out a soft laugh, “You are truly so cute, my dear pet. I’ll make a deal with you.”

You nodded violently, ready to hear what she had to say.

“So eager, and you don’t even know what it is.” Alcian brushed your side again. “I’ll get you off, if you let me drink your blood.”

“Who loses in this situation?” You questioned, leaning back against her, still grinding into her thigh.

“Oh? You want your blood drained from you?”

“I’ve dreamt about you fucking me and sucking my blood, fucking and sucking if you will, since I got her-”

Alcina shushed you, and gently asked for you to close your eyes. You did so and then heard the sound of... metal? Beside you. Something scratched at your bicep and you sucked in air harshly. The metal sound came again, but no more pain.

“You may open your eyes.”

Looking in the mirror, you saw her staring at your bleeding wound. Alcina promised to only take a little as her lips met your skin. You nodded and she guided her free hand towards your pussy once more.

Alcina tensed as she tasted your blood and a moan escaped her mouth. She licked and lapped at the blood, while you were grinding into her thigh. Her fingers played gently with your clit. Your movements became rushed and harsh, you were humping against her quickly.

Becoming dizzy and lightheaded quickly stopped that though. You reached your orgasm, and assumed it had hit so hard you were seeing stars from that. But when your vision unblurred, you noticed Alcina’s bloodied face in the mirror, still biting down and licking on your arm.

“Alcina!” Your voice, still filled with pleasure, caught her attention.

She gave one final lick and wiped her bottom lip.

“I only took a little.” Alcina noticed your tiredness and her eyes widened, “Come here, dear. Maybe we should go to bed, you seem tired.”

You nodded. Alcina picked you up and lied you down on her pillows. She lay beside you, her hand gently brushing against your skin, causing goosebumps. You let out a quiet moan and cuddled against her chest.

“Thank you,” You whispered to her, eyes closing, hoping and praying this really wasn’t a dream. Hoping when you awoke, she would still be there. But for now, all you needed was her, you focused on her as you drifted off.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #re8 #ngl this wasnt beta'd #so i apologize in advance for any mistakes #i will fix them as i find them #which is why the whole thing is under a read more #anyway!#hope yall enjoyed!#beff writes

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satoruvt · 4 years ago

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for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible.

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair.

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go.

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it.

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick.

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything.

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first.

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long.

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will.

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly.

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #the8 x reader #the8 imagine #svt the8 x reader #seventeen the8 x reader #svt the8 imagine #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao imagine #svt minghao x reader #seventeen minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao imagine #pieces of you

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yesttoheaven · 4 years ago

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I SEE YOU – chapter IV

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.3k

warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?

a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)

anyway enjoy the chapter!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.

Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.

"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."

"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"

After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.

"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?

"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"

"Oh, oftentimes!"

"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.

"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.

"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.

"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.

Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.

"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.

"That glass is not dirty, Misty."

"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"

"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."

"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"

Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.

"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."

"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.

Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:

"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."

"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.

Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.

"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.

The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...

Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!

"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"

"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."

"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."

Arthur felt his stomach churning.

"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."

Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.

In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.

"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"

"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."

"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:

"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."

...

THREE DAYS LATER

"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"

It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.

"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."

"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.

"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.

"Huh... nothing!"

The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.

"Go ahead... Spill the tea."

Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.

"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."

"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.

"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"

"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Based on what? His bank account?"

"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."

Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.

"Well... many men consume pornography daily."

"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"

"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"

"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.

To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.

"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

Misty just sighed, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~~

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

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jinxxedwammys · 4 years ago

Note

Ok hear me out. I’ve listened to “Sway with me (slowed)” by Cytus II and I have this whole imagine of the reader at a masquerade ball as an undercover agent, and as The Wammy Bois (preferably L or Near) S/O or crush. Well the situation turns for the worst and L (or near) rushes out into the party (he was originally watching on cams) to get a hold of the situation to either like confront the Bad Guy or just protect the reader. Idk I think about it when I listen to the song. Love your writing btw

Aww thanks anon, I'm glad you like my writing! And damn, I like this one a lot! This calls for a fic. Thanks for requesting! (Not me accidentally making this somewhat like that ball scene in Black Butler.. oof)

For this I chose L and decided not to do Near, I hope that's okay.

Warnings: Mentions of human trafficking, Main antagonist being a creep, daggers.

(Image from some wallpaper site and very lightly and badly edited with befunky)

The night was young, the sun had only just set below the horizon plunging the city into darkness. At 8PM this night there was a masquerade ball at a very wealthy businessman's mansion. As all the high society guests exited their limousines and luxury cars escorted by servants you stood staring at the lavish mansion.

"I feel so out of place here... Do I really blend in enough?" You quietly asked Watari who stood beside you as your "servant". You shifted uncomfortably and looked to him for an answer.

"Yes, of course you do. You fit in very well. Please do not worry, I'm sure you will be alright in there." He bowed before reentering the drivers seat of the vehicle you'd arrived in. You took a deep breath before carefully ascending the marble stairs leading to he door. Before you could be noticed by anyone in particular, you placed the earpiece you had been provided in your ear disguising it with your hair.

Unlike the other guests, tonight wasn't about enjoyment or entertainment for you. You were assisting with an investigation into one of the high class men attending this party known as Daniel Grant. He had been suspected of human trafficking, though it seems he had been doing more than just that. A recent investigation by the private investigator known only to the public as L suggested that he may potentially be behind multiple murders in the area. As it happens, you were the lynchpin in solving this case and getting the evidence needed to put Daniel Grant and all involved behind bars.

He seemed to target young people between the ages of 18 and 25. As it happens, you were perfect for that role. You were also a police officer. So only two weeks ago, you had been asked to assist the one and only L. Of course, when he contacted you, you were overjoyed. Finally, something more interesting than petty crime! But now, as you entered the lavish mansion you were far less confident than you were when you initially joined.

You knew L was watching the camera feeds from the CCTV system, but it still didn't calm your nerves. You nervously approached the table where the guest sign in book was placed, carefully signing your alias. Then you made your way to the ballroom where the party was held. You took a deep breath and adjusted your mask before entering into the room.

Inside, everyone was chatting amongst themselves every single person dressed very formally, women in beautiful ballgowns, men in fancy suits. Every single one wore a masquerade mask, some plain and simple, some adorned with gemstones, lace and other ornate designs. Everyone went silent when one man tapped his glass with a fork.

"Hello everyone, I'd like to thank you for attending tonight. Thank you all for celebrating my niece's 20th birthday with us" He motioned to a young girl blonde girl wearing a dark pink dress with a black lace mask. Everyone gave a short applause in response. "Please enjoy yourselves" He bowed slightly. You hadn't known this was a birthday party beforehand. You wondered what Daniel Grant had to do with this girl. About 20 minutes into the party, you decided to check in with L as you hadn't heard a thing from him since you arrived. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

"L are you listening?" You asked quietly and waited for a response.

"Yes, I am, is anything wrong?" He asked. You shook your head before you realized he couldn't see you right now, there were no cameras in the bathroom.

"N..No, I haven't seen Daniel yet either... I was just making sure you were there." you hurriedly replied.

"Mmh, I'll guide you to him if you would like, I can see him on the cameras." He replied clearly eating something.

"Okay, please do!" You left the bathroom and reentered the ballroom doing your best to hide the fact that you were scanning the room for the suspect. L's voice came over the earpiece again, this time instructing you to look for a woman in an emerald green dress near the center of the room. You entered the crowd of guests. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw the woman L had been talking about. She was in fact talking to Daniel Grant. They seemed to know each other. You stayed back, waiting for L to say something.

"Seems like you found them, stay back for a little while, I'll tell you when to approach" He said. You of course didn't respond since you were surrounded by others in earshot. You casually checked your pockets and approached another guest making small talk to kill time. You had taken your eyes off of him for a second, and the moment you looked back, the niece was talking to him. L seemed to notice as well.

"Daniel is currently talking to an important innocent. Please intervene now." You looked around the room before casually approaching the two.

"Hello, I came to wish you a happy birthday!" You said, sort of putting yourself between them. She nodded, thanking you and went back to talking with Daniel. You sighed in annoyance, but persisted.

"Hey, could you by any chance show me to the washroom? I've been looking for it and I just can't find it" You asked. She looked at Daniel, excusing herself from their conversation before leading you to said washroom.

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you... Oh.. and I think it would be best if you stayed away from that man." She gave you a quizzical look.

"Why is that? He's one of my mother's friends." She asked. You were kind of shocked. Another detail L had left out. You questioned if he trusted you before ultimately banishing the thought. Of course he trusted you. You wouldn't be the one confronting the guy if he didn't.

"Just trust me, he's no good" You warned. It was clear that she didn't take your words seriously whatsoever. She scoffed and left. Now what? You wondered. And just like that, L's voice came through again.

"I want you to talk to him, try your best to get him away from her." Immediately you left the bathroom and made your way back to the ballroom again. By now, there were a few people dancing. Unfortunately Daniel seemed to be one of them, but you had a plan. Dance your way to him! You started off with a tall man with a purple tie, then to an average height lady in a light blue dress, then a lady with a fuchsia pink dress, and so on until finally, you were dancing with Daniel.

"You're the person who rudely interrupted my lovely conversation with the guest of honor" He observed. His voice was cold, though there was a tinge of intrigue.

"And what of it?" You sort of snapped. He smirked, it sent chills up your spine. You backed away slightly, but he closed the distance.

"Oooh, I like them feisty" He growled into your ear. You couldn't help your face twisting in disgust at that.

"Why don't we go... somewhere more private" He suggested. It was then that L's voice came on through your earpiece.

"Go with him, I want to see what he'll do" You gulped. You really didn't want to go anywhere with that creep. But L's orders... You nodded and Daniel led you upstairs. You both stood in front of a bedroom door. He opened it, directing you to go inside. As you did, his eyes seemed to undress you. It was then that he took out a dagger holding it to your neck.

Meanwhile, L sat in his temporary investigation headquarters observing your actions. He had just stuck a piece of cake in his mouth when you had been attacked. He had not expected Daniel to be armed. You were in grave danger and he knew it. He immediately stood up, the fork clattered to the ground and the plate the cake had been on shattered as it hit the floor. He didn't care.

"Y/N, hang in there, I'll be there soon" he quickly said to you before rushing to get Watari and speed off to the party. The car ride seemed to take forever. Every second of it, he watched and listened. Daniel seemed to be just threatening you for the time being, but at any second, he might just kill you. The very second they arrived, L clumsily jumped out of the car and rushed up the stairs to the manor, past the guards outside and up another flight of stairs to where you were.

L had for the first time in his life, brought a gun in case things got even more ugly, but he doubted he'd need it. Daniel didn't seem like the type to be bold enough to kill in front of another person. Even so, he gripped the gun before entering.

"Let them go!" L commanded. Daniel's head snapped in his direction.

"Get out, this is none of your business" Daniel said, turning back to you.

"It is my business, that happens to by my significant other you have there." You blinked. Significant other? Is he acting? You thought before mentally reprimanding yourself for thinking that now. L moved a little closer.

"Oh.... She is... I'm sorry" Daniel backed away. It was kind of comical how he looked like a scolded dog. You stood up and walked towards L, glancing back a few times at Daniel to ensure he wasn't going to get violent again. And without another word, L led you out of the manor to safety. Though there was one question burning in your chest. When you were safely in the car you decided to voice it.

"L... Do you actually like me?" L turned to you, his expression was completely unreadable.

"Yes" He said almost monotonously. But that was good enough for you.

#death note #death note x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #short story

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hanaasbananas · 3 years ago

Text

20 Questions Fanfic Writers Edition

Thanks for the tag @nomolosk and @marvelousmsmol! I finally got around to doing this. It turns out that standing in/walking around a classroom for 7 hours five days a week really tires you out and makes you crash immediately upon coming home. Who knew?

How many works do you have on AO3?

36, though if you count those hundred one shots I did earlier this year but put in one fic, then it's over a hundred lol

What's your total AO3 wordcount?

209,046.

Woah. I've gotta say, when I posted that first fic in 2018 just to see what it was like (and after I saw my friend take the plunge and start posting), I never thought I'd end up here. But then, I never predicted what would happen after I wrote my first ML fic either so...

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Five! I've written the most for Miraculous, but also The Musketeers (one of my absolute favourite set of fics that I still go back to read), That 70s Show, Once Upon a Time, and Avatar: the last Airbender

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Oooh, I've never actually checked this...

100 Ways to say I Love You- 817

it's all a game of chance (they say in wonderland)-788

our eyes speak (but on our lips is silence)- 768

Collect your Courage- 727

I'll never be the thief (to bring in hot scattered hell)- 643

Ok those first three are no surprise, but I didn't realise that 2 ATLA fics had made my top 5, that's pretty cool! I should...probably work on continuing that series. Sometime

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I usually respond to comments just to thank people for reading or answer any questions/talk about the fic when they say what their favourite parts were, but sometimes I'll forget to reply and then remember too late and I'm like "well it would just be WEIRD if I replied nOW".

Case in point-all the comments on the final chapter of 100 ways. I got so many comments and such an outpouring of love that it was kind of overwhelming and I thought I'd wait a couple days before replying to all of them at once. And then a month passed. And another. And then it was 4 months later and it was too late. I still go back and read those comments because you readers are TOO KIND but sometimes I wonder if people think i'm rude

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Last week, I'd have said it was a tie between let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke, and Phantoms in the Dark. Phantoms has the epilogue which sort of softens the blow, but even though it's a oneshot, Flames was just absolute pain for the last quarter of the story.

And then I decided to go back to Flames and write The End. And that is just SAD. I was honestly crying so much when I wrote it. Like, it took me just over four months to write, not just because of life things keeping me busy but because some scenes were so intense and angsty that I had to take a break from the fic for like, a week at a time after writing them.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I've written a fair amount of fluffy one shots, but the first fic that comes to mind is actually my first ever ml fic it's all a game of chance (they say in wonderland). Idk, most of the story is pretty angsty, but I feel like the ending makes up for it, with Gabriel arrested, Emilie okay, and Marinette waking up. Honestly one of my favourite parts from the fic is at the end where Emilie sees how happy Adrien is at the hospital when he's about to introduce her to Marinette.

Another one with a good happy ending is and in that moment i became yours. It's honestly pretty crack-y as well towards the end which is why I like it tbh

Do you write crossovers? If yes, what's the craziest thing you've ever written?

I've never written a crossover, but I daydream about them all the time. A lot of my daydream crossovers usually involve doctor who, even though I don't watch it anymore. I think one of my favourite crossover ideas was for a fic where it's one of those five times things for 'five times the Doctor met Zuko' because I mean...how much fun would that be?!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, and I honestly think I would cry if I did. I did once get a weird comment on one of my fics telling me they hated Adriens characterisation in that particular story but they seemed to have interpreted his motivations completely differently to how I intended so I just went "okay cool" and forgot about it

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope. That's just not my thing, though I have experimented with writing a little spice, I've never written anything explicit and probably never will.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but it would be cool if someone did.

Have you ever cowritten a fic?

No, but I've talked about writing a series of one shots with @theanxiouscupcake some time. Not sure when though

What's your all time favourite ship?

In Miraculous? Lovesquare all the way. Across all fandoms I'm in, it's Constance/D'Artagnan from The Musketeers and Francis/Mary from Reign. What can I say, I love my historical romance

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I try to keep my WIP list short for this exact reason, so I usually only start a new fic after I've finished one on the list. This doesn't always work out

I ABSOLUTELY intend on finishing this, but Forgotten Promises. I have the entire story outlined and know each plot point, at this point it's just a case of WRITING it. I think I also feel a weird sense of pressure to follow up Phantoms, which has held me back as well, but it's also a case of how with Phantoms, I wrote the whole thing before even thinking of posting the first chapter so there were no expectations. That, and I wrote most of it when I was bedridden after falling down the stairs and couldn't really do anything else other than watch netflix and write

What're your writing strengths?

Dialogue, I think.

It took me a long time to feel like I was getting dialogue right, but now it's one of my favourite things to write. If I'm struggling with a scene I'll just write out the dialogue without any tags and I can end up with a whole page of dialogue to work with, it's great.

What're your writing weaknesses?

Oh boy, where do I even start?

Description is a big one. I always have to try really hard at description-both of settings and feelings. Sometimes I'll read a fic with such gorgeous descriptions and just feel like I could never compare lol. Especially when sometimes I find myself overusing the word 'feels/feeling' to describe someones emotions, but when I try to use description it just ends up clunky and awkward.

It's why I'm always scouring my work for overuse of the words 'and' and 'as' because boy oh boy are those crutch words. It's always 'he said, as he did this' or 'and then he did this, and moved and said that' and it drives me NUTS. It's a fun activity to go through my fic and then see how I can get rid of the offending word to make the sentence flow better though, so I can't really complain. Especially since apparently I'm really paranoid about using those words and see them everywhere even if I haven't used them much. Oops.

Another weakness is that I cannot write more than two characters to save my life. I've been practising but that's a big reason for why I don't write many multichapter stories or anything with a complicated plot because I am really bad at characterisation and placing more than two characters in a scene. Something to work on in the future though!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other language in fic?

I've never done it, but if I did, I would put the speech in italics and then say something like she said in...whatever language, because honestly I wouldn't want to run the risk of using google translate and getting it horrifically wrong. The only time I'd write it out in the language was if it was urdu because I'm fluent

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Oh yikes.

First ever published fic was an Alex Rider one I wrote when I was 14. It was a year after the final (at the time-and tbh where I maintain the series ended) book had come out and traumatised me, and then I spent months reading Alex Rider fanfic and decided to write my own. and then posted it on Wattpad. It's actually pretty dark, and includes major character death, so I guess angst really has been my brand for almost a decade lmao.

Read at your own risk

What's your favourite fic you've ever written?

You can't make me CHOOSE!! I CANT

Ok but seriously.

I absolutely adore our eyes speak (but on our lips is silence), and Pink. They're just really fluffy happy pieces.

But another one I really really love and go back to read over and over is my one Musketeers fic/series Going Through the Motions (Technically 6 short fics on ao3 but it was supposed be a one shot I just started posting each section once a week so that I could force myself into finishing the damn thing). It's completely self indulgent because Constance was my favourite character in the show and I just wanted to explore what might have happened if very slight changes were made to canon events to affect the s1 finale.

Its very bittersweet but I have fond memories of working on it during my commute to university, just setting up my tablet on the tiny fold down tables and working on it for an hour every day lol. On ffnet that story has also had the NICEST reviews so it holds a very fond place in my heart and every so often I will go back to it just to read the ending because it just makes me feel all fuzzy inside

Ok I've rambled enough now. Thank you guys for tagging me, and I will now tag @hey-its-laura-again @theladyfae @rosekasa @queer-cosette and anyone else who wants to do it!

#banana speaks 🍌#this got pretty long and took me ages to do cus i kept sitting down to do it and then did half #but then accidentally hit something and it would refresh the page so i lost everything rip #anyway wow what a fun look into my fics i havent really thought about my fics like this before lolol #also love the strengths and weaknesses question like yes i have a degree in creative writing doesnt mean i know what im GOOD AT

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lit-in-thy-heart · 4 years ago

Note

If you want to! Mergwaine and tackle hug (romantic or platonic). Idk Gwaine is just the type and it’d be so cute. Maybe after they’ve been reunited??? Or not whatever works 💗

@rainbowvamp thank you for the prompt!! 💕 i took a couple of liberties in that it's a tackle and a hug, i hope that's alright, and i'm sorry about the tone, they just seem to be getting angstier and angstier...

(set a few days after camlann)

as usual, under the cut, and thank you again!!

Whilst the rest of the court marvelled at Gwaine’s miraculously hasty recovery, Gwaine was embracing his newly-discovered invincibility by patrolling the Darkling Woods alone.

He had been clinging to life by a thread, but even in his deadened state he had recognised the hands that had slowly coaxed his body back to consciousness. Instinctively, Gwaine’s own hand jumped to his chest, where he had felt Merlin’s fingers brush against his skin. He wasn’t sure if he’d called out his name, if they’d even spoken, or quite what Merlin had done to him, but Gwaine had been able to sit up after a day and Merlin had been gone.

Healing spells had never been Merlin’s strong suit and Gwaine knew that they were capable of draining every last trace of a skittish pulse if the healer was already weakened. And Merlin would be weakened after watching Arthur die, that Gwaine knew all too well. And Gwaine couldn’t lose Merlin, not after everything that had happened. Particularly not as a result of Merlin reversing Morgana’s damage.

Gwaine pushed through the branches, tucking his hair behind his ear and pausing for a moment by a large oak tree. His fingers fumbled for the knots on the trunk as his legs threatened to crumble beneath him, seeking out the letters carved into the wood. It had been a ridiculous idea, and childish at that, but that hadn’t stopped him from leaving the scar of his initials interlinked with that of Merlin’s in the soft sunset so many years before. Severing himself from the tree as the strength returned to him in gradual waves, Gwaine moved further into the woods, plunging into the translucent darkness left by the shadows of the sun as the leaves above him obscured its path. He and Merlin had grown apart over the last year, and Gwaine had been trying his best to not let it show just how desperately his feet were treading water beneath the surface in the effort to keep their relationship afloat. Merlin had not left his side for a week after Gwaine had returned from Morgana’s clutches with Percival, but he had been paying more and more attention to Arthur and his well being, which Gwaine had attempted to apply logic to. It had made sense that Merlin was focused on Arthur, particularly with the multiple threats lurking in the shadows, and Gwaine himself had sworn loyalty to Arthur. Though that didn’t mean that his service, as it had always been, wasn’t primarily dedicated to Merlin. Everything he did – or had done – for Arthur had been because Merlin had asked him to, or because Gwaine had been able to see the expression lingering in the eyes that he knew so well, the fear that had darkened the delicate irises for the past year.

For a year, Gwaine had mourned the moments where Merlin would unflinchingly tell him about his father, or his magic, or the numerous dangers he’d encountered – though that last one had usually been reserved for when Gwaine had needed a scare to rid himself of hiccups. He had watched Merlin close off more and more of himself and Gwaine hadn’t even realised that Merlin had been dying until he had collapsed on Gwaine’s bed hours after the attempted assassination of Arthur and begrudgingly told him the whole tale. Even then he’d elected to omit the fact that Gwen was wanting Arthur dead, but Gwaine also knew that Merlin had the opinion of himself that his word was worth nothing, despite Gwaine having told him multiple times that he would believe Merlin over Arthur any day of the week. And if Merlin had spent the last of his spirit on Gwaine before they even had the chance to recover the land decimated by drought, Gwaine would never forgive himself.

Through the hesitant birdsong, the snapping of a twig resounded like a crossbow bolt to the skull. Gwaine pressed himself to a tree trunk and, one hand hovering over his sword, ignited sparks that scattered themselves across his fingertips. Through the branches, he caught sight of a hooded figure and a glint of metal and, putting aside all cautions of taking it easy, launched himself at the intruder. Having knocked them to the ground, Gwaine roughly turned them over onto their back between his legs, hand drawn back behind his head as the sparks evolved into ribbons of fire, his eyes burning with the same heat that Merlin’s had flared with so many times.

The same heat that was flickering right in front of him.

In wonder, Merlin reached up with his fingertips to graze the stubble on Gwaine’s chin, the drawn and anxious expression buried amidst it, the bruises stretched out beneath his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded like he was older than time itself. ‘I didn’t think it would work,’ he whispered, the fire in his eyes fading.

Instead of the vibrant blue that Gwaine was used to, the gaze that held his was commanded by the uncertain watery depths of the sky snatched between storm clouds. It was like all the colour had been drained from him and Merlin had been left with the dregs of his former self, and Gwaine’s hands, dropping the flames like he had dropped his guard around the warlock so long ago, jumped to Merlin’s cheeks to check that he was not some trick of his mind.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I gave you all,’ Merlin breathed back, eyes still roaming his form. ‘Because I couldn’t save Arthur, so I had to save you. Morgana was the darkness to my light, and you are my light. I couldn’t let her corrupt you. So I poured everything I had into reversing her damage. I poured everything I had into you.’

‘And nearly killed yourself in the process,’ said Gwaine sharply, fingers darting to the faint heartbeat beneath Merlin’s shirt. He slid from him, trying to conceal his trembling lower lip, and shook out his hair as he held out his arms. ‘Come here, you self-sacrificing fuck.’

Merlin fell into him like an acorn burying itself in the ground, rooting itself to the very earth it would one day become in the hopes of being able to slowly flourish. Savouring the cool touch, Gwaine wrapped his arms around the warlock in the attempt to transfer some of his body heat. Merlin was still breathing, which was always a good sign, and the heart thumping against him was stronger than it had been mere moments before. They hadn’t held each other like this since the morning that Merlin had been released from the cells after being cleared of poisoning Arthur. When Merlin touched him, it was like a butterfly was darting across Gwaine’s skin and seeking out the nectar hidden in his pores, and Gwaine closed his eyes.

‘Do you still have your magic?’

Merlin’s reply was thickened by the threat of tears. ‘I think so. It doesn’t feel as strong as it did, but I know a way to get it back if it is gone. You didn’t tell me that you’d been practising.’

Gwaine’s fingers were making their way along Merlin’s ribs. ‘There wasn’t really a chance to drop it into conversation,’ he softly said. ‘You were preoccupied with—You were preoccupied with other things.’

‘I’m sorry. For isolating myself. I just—I couldn’t afford to get distracted. I couldn’t allow everything that had been built to crumble so soon after.’ Merlin dropped his head into Gwaine’s shoulder. ‘It has anyway, though, and I’ve hurt you in the process. And I should have stayed by your side, when I healed you. But there were other voices and I was selfish and couldn’t handle the prospect of yet another failure, this time with an audience, and—’

‘Merlin, it’s alright. You’ve had so much pressure put on you for so long and, yes, you’ve hurt me, but you’re a selfless bastard who was doing it to protect me. I’d say that I expect you to make it up to me, but you’ve just saved my life, so I think that counteracts some of the distance that was between us. Not that I’ll say no to flowers, if that inclination possesses you,’ Gwaine added as an afterthought.

Pulling away, Merlin abandoned his fingers to Gwaine’s soft hair, gaze darting anywhere but Gwaine’s warm eyes. Then, he met them. ‘You know I love you, don’t you?’

Had Merlin asked that several months ago, Gwaine would have screamed that he show him, but Merlin had been willing to sacrifice himself for Gwaine. And Merlin being prepared to drain himself of his magic, the one thing that he had defined himself by – which was arguably not the best idea, but there would be time to show Merlin how much more he was worth – was more than enough proof that he loved Gwaine. ‘I know now. And I love you too.’

‘I won’t leave you again, I promise you.’

A lifetime of living as a pariah was screaming at Gwaine to not trust Merlin, to push him away to protect himself, but his heart was weeping and Merlin’s stare was so fierce for one who seemed so fragile. ‘I know you won’t.’ Gwaine pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, lips lingering as he closed his eyes. ‘I know you won’t.’

#perhaps a little pleased with myself at actually managing to finish this one today even if there isn't much hug #i'm sorry...my mind just goes to places and my fingers follow #hope you like it and thanks again!#merlin #gwaine #merwaine #mergwaine #bbc merlin #hug prompts #lit writes

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ddarker-dreams · 5 years ago

Note

Can I request head-cannons for Dabi, Shigaraki and Overhaul when their Darling escapes and ends up at an old friends house? Like the friend and the Darling had feelings for each other but never new until now and the Yandere finds them kissing? Idk lol just an idea. Sorry for wasting your time.

i found this idea so interesting that i went ahead and wrote mini scenarios for it!! yall get to watch shin suffer three different times LMAOO

click here to check out my commissions !

TW: for death, torture, mutilation

Shigaraki:

Comfort and security have been rare in your life for the past few hellish months. Even now, as you sit with a blanket wrapped around your shivering frame; you can’t relish in your small victory over Shigaraki. It’s only been a matter of hours since you managed to escape him, and you can only imagine how desperately he’s searching.

“[First], are you sure we shouldn’t go to the police?” Shin eyes you with concern, his lips frowning at your shivering form. Shaking your head, you take a sip of the tea he had given you earlier. The bitter flavor brings you no comfort, but the scorching warmth steels you in reality.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I really don’t know,” you murmur to your friend, who takes a seat next to you on the couch. “I just need to… I need to get a hold of myself first. I can’t think straight.”

Shin offers a reassuring smile, his hand reaching out. You flinch slightly as he places it on top of your free hand, being mindful of your fearful form. The pad of his thumb soothingly rubs circles into your skin, temporarily taking your mind off everything.

“I was surprised when you came to me,” Shin confesses, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I’m being out of line. I’m just glad you thought of me. That you know that you can rely on me.”

Your breath hitches, and you look away from his face. The blush lining his cheeks says it all; but you’re unsure of what to do with it. Before Shigaraki had come into your life, Shin had been someone you adored wholeheartedly. His charisma and friendliness attracted you, he was someone that was always so well put together.

“T-thank you again for helping me.”

All you’re able to offer is your genuine gratitude. At this, Shin shifts in his seat.

“Of course,” Shin graciously accepts your words, moving closer to you. Your eyes widen when soft fingers delicately touch your chin, prompting you to look at him. “I would do anything for you.”

“Shin–”

His lips softly press against your own, muffling the squeak you let out. Apart of you feels uncertain of what to make of this, but the other part doesn’t care anymore. Why should you deny yourself any comfort you could get after the nightmares you’ve endured?

Fluttering your eyes shut, you shyly return the affection being bestowed upon you. For a few blissful seconds, your mind is relieved of your previous woes.

That is, until you hear a crumbling noise in the direction of Shin’s apartment entrance.

Pulling back at the alarming noise, Shin furrows his eyebrows at a figure that makes your blood freeze.

“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?” Shin goes to stand from his position next to you, only for you to put your arm out in front of him. Bloodshot eyes look from your form to Shin’s, Shigaraki’s form hunched over. You hear his labored breathing, as he stalks towards the couch with a sense of urgency.

At this point, a part of you knows there’s nothing you can say to convince Shigaraki to stop what he’s doing, but it’s not enough to stop you from trying.

“Shigaraki, please, don’t do anything–!”

It’s too late.

His hand extends out towards Shin’s, wrapping viciously around the young male’s neck. Before Shin could even let out a scream at the sensation of being chocked, his skin turns an inhumanly gray pigment. Shrieking in horror, you spring up from your position as Shin’s body turns to a pile of dust.

“N-no…” your voice is weak, eyes blurred by tears.

Shigaraki turns his head towards you, pupils dilated and chest heaving. He watches as you press your knees to your chest, bottom lip quivering from anxiety.

“Come,” Shigaraki beckons, voice devoid of any humanity. “I’m tired of this little side quest.”

Dabi:

“Got room for one more?”

The intrusive, lighthearted words are accompanied by a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Dabi begins snickering as you instinctively pull back from Shin, eyes wide as saucers. Shin grimaces in disgust at Dabi, immediately putting two and two together.

“So you must be the fucker who’s been harasser her,” Shin growls, reaching into his pocket to reveal a switchblade. “Get the fuck out, or I’ll call the police.”

The small blade gleams threateningly, pointed in an accusatory stance towards Dabi. Dabi’s hands remain in his pockets, not even so much as blinking at the threat presented before him. He all but ignores it, preferring to look over at your shaking form.

“You gave me quite a shock, doll. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Dabi tilts his head, voice lowering with intent. “But enough’s enough. Come right over here princess, and I’ll give some thought to forgiving you.”

After the time you’ve spent with Dabi, you’ve been able to pick up on the subtlest of nuances in his body language. To the untrained eye somewhat might mistake Dabi’s disposition for carefree, but you know better. He’s toying with you purposefully – there’s a concealed fury in his eyes from your string of betrayals.

His patience with you is gone.

“A-alright,” you pathetically concede, eyes stinging with tears. On unsteady legs you stand up, earning a look of confusion from Shin. “I’ll do what you say. But please don’t hurt him. I-I dragged him into this, he has nothing to do with it.”

The pleading tone doesn’t garner a strong reaction, Dabi instead shrugging his shoulders at your heartfelt request.

He waves off your feeble concern, “Sorry to say sweetheart, but you’re in no position to be making demands of me.”

“I’ve heard enough of this!” Shin abruptly stands up, firmly steeling himself next to you. Dabi’s eyes follow his every movement carefully, undoubtedly assessing if you’ll get caught up in a blast of fire from his quirk. In a protective reflex, you fling yourself in front of Shin; arms reaching out on each side.

Dabi clicks his tongue at your interference. “What a bad girl you’ve been.”

With that, he suddenly charges forward, your eyes barely processing the events unfolding in front of you. Dabi moves to your left abruptly, causing you to swirl on your heels. Before Shin has the chance to plunge his knife forward, Dabi’s hands grab Shin’s shoulder and wrist respectively.

A sickening snap reverberates in the air, accompanied by a hellish scream of pain. What is most likely to be Shin’s ulna erupts from the skin of his forearm, blood gushing out alongside it. Shin drops to the ground, clutching his mutilated arm while tears leave his eyes.

A string of curses leave his lips, but Dabi responds by kicking him onto his back. Jaw agape, you lunge forward to assist your friend; only for Dabi’s hand to grip harshly onto your wrist. Hissing at the pressure, you twist your wrist around in hopes of freeing yourself. The movement only serves to bring you greater pain, so you stop momentarily.

Shin’s cries continue on in the background as Dabi forcefully shoots you a chilling smile. The hand that isn’t holding yours flickers with blue flames, revealing Dabi’s malicious intentions.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so eager to watch. Let’s see, what part of him should I break next? If you tell me, I’ll put ‘im out of his misery faster,” Dabi offers, making certain you had a front seat to the events that were about to unfold. “Probably, that is.”

Overhaul:

“Please stop! This isn’t right, he has nothing to do with this!”

Cold amber eyes glare through your soul, showing no sign of softening with compassion at your incessant begging. Kai’s lifeless gaze moves from you to your struggling companion, who currently has his arms twisted behind his back by Kurono.

“What should we do with him, boss?”

“If I recall correctly,” Kai begins, stepping forward to minimize the distance between himself and Shin. “One of our subjects recently passed from the stress of testing. This one will serve as a replacement.”

“Go… to hell, you... monster,” Shin wheezes out, struggling to lift his bruised face to meet Kai’s stony stare. “[First] will always hate you.”

The room goes silent, save for Shin’s labored breathing and your own rapidly beating heart. All the struggling in the world isn’t enough to remove you from Mimic’s tight grip, but it’s not enough to stop you from trying. The sudden emergence of the Shie Hassaikai was hell on earth, but one you were eventually expecting.

Kai had acted faster than you thought he would, finding you after your escape in only a few hours. With his expansive number of contacts and manpower all it took was a few phone calls and orders, and here they were.

Kai’s exchanged no words with you, ever since he and his subordinates walked in on Shin kissing you. You can’t begin to comprehend the volume of his vexation towards you, but whatever he’s feeling he’s keen on not showing it.

You wince at Shin’s words, realizing that the combination would make his fate even more painful than it would’ve been before. Kai suddenly holds one of his gloved hands up, in the direction a few other subordinates were standing.

“Knife.”

The order is simple and to the point, and a masked individual brings him the item he requests. With the glistening weapon in hand, Kai moves it closer to Shin’s face. Before you can even let out a scream, Kai begins to steadily move the sharp end of the knife against the skin of Shin’s lower lip.

A bloodcurdling shriek leaves him, as he desperately struggles against Kurono to no avail. Kurono moves a hand to steady his face, effectively allowing for Kai to continue with the task he had started. As Kai continues his cruel task of flaying the skin off Shin’s lips, all you can think to do is close your eyes and pray it’ll all be over soon.

There’s not much more you can take of this nightmare.

A few more excruciatingly slow seconds pass, before Kai moves back, scrunching his nose at a drop of blood that marred his white gloves.

“Filthy,” Kai murmurs underneath his breath, a frown set on his face. “Treat him before he goes into shock. I don’t want him dying anytime soon.”

For the first time in a while, Kai’s attention returns back to you. Noting the puffiness of your eyes, it’s difficult to mask the irritation he feels at your compassion for this cesspool of trash. He begins to walk towards the door, you being prompted to follow suit alongside the other members of the Shie Hassaikai.

“We’ll discuss your punishment in detail later.”

All you can do is nod, feeling numb to the world as you return back to your hell.

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ladyteacups · 5 years ago

Text

Experienced

GIF NOT MINE

Summary: Smut with a hit of plot... idk how much more you want.

A/N: I hope this don’t suck. I don’t write much smut but I was just inspired I guess. Some language is offensive probably so... don’t like it, don’t read it. I only read through it once so.. idk man. I just wanted to share.

Warnings: It’s dirty smut my guy. age gap. cursing, and again offensive language. don’t like, don’t read. unrequited crush. bad spelling, sorry I didn’t wanna spellcheck. breeding kink. gettin dirty in public.

Y/N was practically drooling on the training mat as she lay on her belly, her cheek propped up against her hand. Her best friend was right next to her, in the same position. They unintentionally gawked openly.

“He’s so beautiful,” Danny commented next to her.

Y/N nodded her agreement as Bucky’s muscles flexed with each rep he did.

“I wanna pull his hair so bad,” she said back.

Danny sighed. “You think he likes that kinda thing? Like… rough?”

Y/N nodded so fast she feared whiplash. “A hundred percent.” Her gaze shifted to Danny and it was returned at the admission.

“I bet he could really break me in, ya know what I mean?”

They both looked at him as he switched to pull ups. His back faced them and they both gasped at the scratches scattered across his back.

Danny giggled. “Some lucky girl really enjoyed herself.”

Y/N had to admit her jealousy. She wanted to be the one to put those marks on his skin. To give him a reminder of their passion.

“What I wouldn’t give to put my own mark on him.”

Y/N looked over at Danny with a smirk. “Where would you put it?” She wiggled her brows at her.

Danny blushed slightly. “Right on his-

“Hey guys.”

They both looked up to see Peter walking over. Reluctantly they wiped at the drool and stood to meet him.

“Hey Pete. What’s up?”

Peter answered Danny’s greeting but Y/N was still lost in Bucky’s heaving chest as he sipped his water and sent her a wink.

Good. Lord. Her face tinted pink, but he just went right back to work. Arms and pecs day, she noticed.. Nice.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

Her gaze snapped back to Peter.

“Huh?”

He looked nervous.

“I said, me, Ned, and his girlfriend are all going to the carnival in town. I asked if you wanted to go?”

She nodded absentmindedly. “Uh, sure Pete. Sounds good.”

He smiled brightly but she was hardly paying him any mind. Her eyes were trained on Bucky’s arms, and wait a second.. Was that a tattoo she caught sight of? Swoon. Y/N wondered what it was. Something hot probably. Like a skull, or a spider, ooh or a pinup girl that looks an awful lot like her somehow.

“Cool so I’ll text you the deets.”

Peter’s smile was bright and drew her attention back. She just nodded.

When he walked off and Y/N expected her and Danny to go back to talking about the sexy man grunting as he lifted weights. Heavy weights. Like twice her body weight kind of weights. Damn, now she’s wondering what else the serum gave him.

“Y/N, why did you just agree to a date with Peter when you know you’re not into him?”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s not a date.”

“Uh, yes it is. A double date actually.”

“Well so what? Agreeing to go out doesn’t make him my boyfriend.”

Danny wanted to press the issue. She knew Peter was crushing hard on Y/N, but she wouldn’t look twice at him. He wasn’t nearly old enough to catch her eye. But Y/N was right. Plus maybe indulging the kid would make him see that Y/N wasn’t the one for him.

“Just don’t let him get his hopes up.”

Y/N agreed and they took a break from Bucky watch to go see a movie.

Y/N returned a little later than expected. Her head was thrown back in laughter as she walked down the hall. Her attention fully on the phone call she was currently engaging in with her friend Matt.

“No way if I had the balls to seduce somebody I’d wear the little black number hiding in my closet. I think I’d die if anyone saw me in it though. Could you imagine me showing off my ugly birthmark? I don’t think so.”

Matt laughed and said something back, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore.

Bucky Barnes stepped into her path quick and quiet. She nearly stumbled, and hurried Matt off the phone when she saw the look in Bucky’s eyes.

Sticking the phone in her pocket she stood straight as a rod under Bucky’s scrutinizing gaze. He smirked at her after he looked her over.

“Well Y/L/N, how’d you enjoy your movie?”

She got the faintest impression that he didn’t actually give a shit, but she didn’t want to leave him.

“It was really funny. I’m already ready to see it again.”

“That’s great.” He looked her over again and asked suddenly, “So… this birthmark… where’s it at?”

She blushed deeply.

“Because, I’ve never seen one and I know I’ve seen plenty of your bare skin before.”

“Well it’s. Ya know. I- that’s personal.” She crossed her arms.

He wanted to laugh at her upset expression. Damn she’s cute.

“I guess I’ll have to find it then.”

Before she knew it, Bucky had grabbed her shirt and pulled her flush to him as he attacked her lips with a hunger she never witnessed before.

His hands roamed her belly, just above the hem of her skirt and she pulled him closer.

“Not here,” he said without looking.

Y/N shook her head, agreeing with him. Nope, definitely not there.

His hands moved upwards, caressing just below the wire of her bra.

She wrapped her leg around his waist, pulling him closer. She felt his hardness through his sweatpants, and she was suddenly thankful for the skirt. She grinded her core against him and he growled into her mouth, “not here either.”

She wanted to laugh. Y/N was sure she was gonna like this game.

He cupped one breast through her bra. “Maybe here?”

He pulled it down to play with her tits. Teasing one nipple, then the other.

She moaned against him when he dipped his tongue into her hot mouth. She groaned out his name when he pressed their lower halves together harder. Then she pulled away completely.

He wasn’t even panting but she was sure she looked a mess. She straightened her shirt.

She could still taste it on her tongue. Meeting his questioning look she said clearly, “Bucky you’re drunk.”

He shook his head. “Angel I only had a little, it’s fine.”

He tried to pull her back to him but she resisted. His pout made her melt a little but she wouldn’t do this.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight Bucky.”

And she walked past him without hearing if he replied or not.

At least she got one thing though. The tattoo was a bird.

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking of her brief moment with Bucky in the hallway. His hands touching her, tugging her, teasing her. Fuck. That’s it! She was completely fucked. She needed to get him out of her system. Y/N was sure that would work. Indulge a little and everything will go back to equilibrium.

She painted on her lip gloss and waited for Peter.

He was taking her out tonight for a double date with his friends and Y/N wasn’t sure how to act. She didn’t exactly mean to agree to a date but she did it.

She stepped back for a final look when she heard the knock at her door. Cute and not too flirty. Hopefully safe.

Y/N opened the door expecting Peter but coming face to chest with Bucky Barnes.

“James! What are you doing here?”

He looked her over. “Going out?”

“Uh, yeah. Peter’s taking me to the carnival tonight.”

He nodded as he eyed her sexy black heels.

Peter walked up just then and Bucky was quick to excuse himself. He disappeared quickly, leaving the two alone.

Pete certainly looked excited as they walked the carnival grounds together. He was a perfect gentleman. He offered his coat when he thought she shivered. He rode the ferris wheel with her. He even stayed with her when the ride threatened to make her sick. She really hated heights.

When the four of them sat down to eat, she realized she liked Peter and his friends. They were nice. Not quite her crowd, but they were sweet. She laughed at all of Ned and Peter’s jokes and Ned’s girlfriend told her where she got her really cute top. It was all going pretty ok.

Y/N hoped she wasn’t getting Peter’s hopes up. She really did like him just… not like that.

When Y/N decided she wanted to ride the roller coaster, Peter had to opt out. He almost looked sick so she didn’t push or tease him.

She stood in line and waited till the gate opened. She took a seat in the back but wasn’t expecting someone to get in right behind her.

Y/N looked up into Bucky’s beautiful eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, leaning in to whisper, “I was wondering about the little black number in your closet.”

He looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I still haven’t found that birthmark either.”

She sighed. Y/N had been embarrassed enough that he kissed her because he was drunk, without needing the reminder of her birthmark.

“Are you asking me where it is?”

He shrugged. “I thought you were having fun letting me find it.”

Just then the cars lurched forward. She hadn’t even noticed the guy come around to check on everyone.

“I don’t remember you actually looking. More like feeling me up in the hall.”

Bucky chuckled. His hand wrapped around her and his fingers brushed lightly over her neck. Shivers traveled through her body at his touch.

She thought for a moment about how big he felt pressed against her center. He was definitely hung. That much she could tell. Remembering his thickness had her biting her lip.

She nearly forgot Bucky was right here next to her until he grabbed her chin, made her face him, and kissed her.

Y/N stuttered briefly. Her thoughts interrupted and her panties dampening seemed to be exactly what he wanted.

Before she could collect herself, his hand started up her skirt. She bit his lip almost painfully and he growled at her. His hand went higher, caressing her soft skin and moving towards the treasure between her legs.

“You were right angel.” His voice was husky at her ear. “I do like it rough.”

It took two seconds for him to reach her panties, yank them down and plunge two fingers into her heat. She gasped and gripped his arm as he felt her insides.

One hand was removing her panties from her ankles and placing them in his pocket, while the other was torturing her slowly.

The roller coaster stopped climbing and zipped down the first big dive.

Y/N moaned against his mouth like she had the night before in the hall. “You don’t think I’m too young?”

He blinked at her, his fingers halting for a moment.

“What, you think I’m too old?” He questioned her.

She shook her head and he gladly resumed pleasuring her.

“No. I think it’s so hot. An older man touching me. Knowing exactly what he wants. Teaching me just how he wants his cock sucked.”

Bucky groaned. “Angel you can’t talk about sucking cock with that sinful mouth of yours or I’ll explode.”

“Just like that Bucky.” She encouraged his movements and tried to meet his pumping hand. “Feels so good. Are you this good with your tongue too?”

He smirked. “You wanna ride my tongue Baby? You want me to make you see stars as you cum all over my face?”

His fingers hit that spot and she was nearly there. Just a bit more.

“Fuck James. I love the way you talk.”

“You like it dirty honey?”

She moaned out a, “yes,” before he continued.

He stuck his metal fingers in her open mouth and ordered her to suck. “Get ‘em nice and wet baby.”

She did as she was told and sucked his fingers. She swirled her tongue over the plates in his hand and he tried to hold back the feelings that surfaced.

He pulled his fingers from her mouth and gave them a lick before he brought them down to her heat, flicking them across her clit.

Y/N’s orgasm hit instantly and Bucky was quick to capture her lips and swallow every moan she let out. He was absolutely relentless. Even as she came down he finger fucked her sensitive hole. Y/N clutched his arm, her nails digging in as she begged him to stop. Bucky could only smile, pulling his fingers from her and licking them clean of her cum. Her blush was bright and he faintly heard her yelp. Lord help him, he wanted this girl again and again.

“I’m taking you home with me,” he said as the ride slowed.

She was looking around and snapped her head up to look at him. “Bucky my panties are gone.”

“I’ll get you new ones. Come on.”

He pulled her from the car and she fixed her skirt to not give wondering eyes a show. She was still eyeing the ground around the coaster, but Bucky was looking at the picture from the ride. His laugh distracted her from the search and her eyes went wide when she saw what he was looking at.

Y/N’s face pink, her eyes lusty, and her mouth open in shock, as Bucky sat next to her tasting his fingers. The fingers that were knuckle deep inside her seconds before.

She stared at the picture for a long second, studying the look on Bucky’s face as he looked at her. Damn if he isn’t the sexiest man she’s ever seen. His soulful eyes are so beautiful and his smile. She’s such a sucker for a nice smile, and Bucky has the best. She loves his smile. He gave them out freely now, but she cherished each one he offered to just her.

Bucky walked over, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulled her to him. “Come on honey. I’m taking you to my bed.”

She let him lead her to the car but couldn’t help asking. “What are you gonna do with me?”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m gonna spread ya open, eat my fill of your wet pussy, and fuck a baby in you.”

She nearly tripped at his words. Fucking hell.

A fresh wave of arousal hits her and she silently curses her missing panties for not being there to keep her thighs clean.

The car ride was silent. Bucky’s fist clenching the wheel and Y/N’s leg bouncing in anticipation. She quickly made an excuse to Peter over text to keep herself somewhat busy. She felt bad. Peter deserved more and she knew that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when she had Bucky next to her.

Arriving home was both freighting and exhilarating. She was biting her tongue to stop the shy grin when he opened the door for her and helped her out.

Y/N could hear Seethers ‘Careless whisper’ play in her head like she was in a movie, as she followed him inside and down the hall. The hall they were grinding in just under 24 hours ago. She occupied her mind with assigning a movie to the situation. 50 shades of gray? No… ok, so maybe that’s the only movie she could come up with. Then she tripped over her own feet and the record in her head scratched to a stop. Never mind. She knew exactly which one. Bridget Jones’s Diary.

Bucky turned at the sound of her epic fail and he rushed to help her up. “Jesus doll, you ok?”

She wanted to hide. Briefly she realized the roller coaster should have made her think the movie would be ‘fear’, but she was praying not.

“Yes. Fine, just embarrassed beyond belief.”

He chuckled. “This way babe.”

Damn that sounds good coming from him.

He opened the door and Y/N turned to look at the empty hallway. She imagined that it was the blue pill. She could leave and not let Bucky ruin her for any other man… or. She could take the leap and hope her amateur sex skills make him fall in love. decisions, decisions.

“You coming?”

She could hear the innuendo drip from his sexy full lips and she gulped that red pill down like she promised herself she’d do to his cock later.

When the door closed behind her, she heard the lock click in place and she turned to him. He pulled his jacket from his muscled body, and ordered her with one word.

“Strip.”

She only hesitated for a second but he still gave her a stern look. She stripped her clothes and waited for further instructions.

“Get on the bed beautiful and show me that pink cunt.”

She was quick this time. Nearly jumping on his bed and looking at him as she spread her legs for his perusal . He looked so long she wanted to close them again, but his shoulders were holding them open just as the thought crossed her mind.

His tongue touched her center before she could blink and she threw her head back. The sound was obscene as he licked and sucked her clit like he wanted to bruise her. His fingers were quick to resume their previous job of occupying her empty hole.

Y/N gripped his hair. It was all she could do seeing as his arm was holding her down. She was screaming his name and she could tell he loved the sounds. His tongue and fingers worked harder with each meaningful moan.

“Give it to me,” he commanded her.

And how can you argue with that? Right when she came seeing stars and chest heaving, Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled her panties out for her to see.

“James you- Holy shit!”

Bucky lapped at her, collecting every drop of cum and groaning at her taste. “I’m gonna have you like this at least two more times before I smack your ass as you leave my room.”

She snatched her panties from him when he laughed at her angry face.

“It’s not funny Buck. Who knows who got to see whats up my skirt.”

“Me, and that’s all that matters. And you’re not keeping those either.”

She wanted to argue but he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. He seemed to not give a single fuck as he pulled his dick out. He didn’t even care enough to finish taking his clothes off.

His shirt was wrapped tightly around his muscled chest, his jeans were just under his ass, and his biker boots were still laced up. Damn she felt like a five dollar whore and she wondered why she loved it. She considered briefly, asking him if he had five dollars. She’d accept her panties back as payment though. They came from the bargain bin and she’s pretty sure it was around five.

“You on the pill?” He questioned her, and she thanked god that the answer was, “Yes.”

“Good, cause I’m about to turn you into my own personal cum slut.”

And he sunk into her. Spreading her wet heat to his size and groaning at the tightness.

“Damn girl. Does all young pussy feel like this or just the ones that come with such fantastic tits?”

He hammered his point home by grabbing her tits and teasing the nipple. Sucking one into his mouth, he made her nearly cum again.

“I love the way you talk to me Bucky.” His hips started a smooth rhythm. “Makes me wanna give you all my holes to use up.”

He bit her nipple and gave her harsher thrusts. “Doesn’t matter if you give ‘em to me baby. I’m gonna take whatever I want from you.” He pulled one leg up to lay on his shoulder. “When I get done with this pussy, and I ain’t nearly there yet, I’m gonna see how soft and hot you pretty mouth is. I want that lipstick staining my shaft when I get done fucking your lips.”

She sent a thank you to her best friend for talking her out of liquid lipstick tonight, because damn she wanted to see that too.

“Fucking hell honey. You’re so tight I might cum already.”

“Don’t you dare leave me like this.”

He laughed. “Two orgasms and you get demanding? I’m gonna have to watch out for you.”

He pulled out, flipped her over, pulled her ass up and plunged back in.

“There’s that birthmark,” he laughed out loud seeing the patch of dark skin like a splatter of paint hit her ass. Sure enough right on her left ass cheek was a birthmark. Bucky wanted to kiss the cute mark but he held back. Choosing instead to give it a smack with a big ol’ grin on his face.

She decided to ignore that comment, and her pink cheeks, when he started to move inside her again. His thrusts were bruising and he grabbed her hair into a ponytail to pull her back on his cock. Her back arched when he pulled her hair. She was god damn loving it. The stretch, the way his balls slapped her, and most of all the fucking dirty words he was spouting.

“You look like a bitch in heat right now, letting me fuck you like animal.”

“Bucky,” she groaned into the air and she felt the release creeping up. “I’m so close James. Please let me have it.”

He was stretching her like never before and the pulse of his hips against hers was mind numbing. She could stay like this forever. Letting James fill her over and over. She’d happily be his breeding mare if he just kept fucking her like this.

He smacked her on the ass again and she didn’t wait for permission. She came with a loud scream and a fresh surge of cum coating his cock. Bucky fucked her through it then pulled out and pulled her hair to position her just how he wanted.

“Push those sexy tits together baby. I want my load right there.”

Y/N did as she was told, pressing her breasts together and up for him to fuck. And he did just that. Fucking her tits till he emptied his balls on her face, and breasts. She was all painted up like a freshly fucked cock slut and he wanted to take a picture, to keep under his pillow.

“I thought you said you were gonna fuck a baby in me,” she questioned as she sucked his cum from her fingers like he had earlier in the night.

“We got all night little girl.”

He began to strip (finally) but stopped to pull something from his pocket.

“That means we can talk about how you shouldn’t gossip about how someone fucks when they’re in the room with you.” She blushed. “And… we can also figure out where to hang this.”

When he unfolded the paper and showed her the picture from the carnival, of him savoring her cum on his fingers, she exploded into laughter. She was relaxed now. Feeling comfortable with him enough to let go of the embarrassment.

He bought the damn picture. She couldn’t believe it.

“You could have told us you heard us you asshole. And I know exactly where that picture is going.”

“And ruin all the fun?”

He was nearly bare before her. His shirt gone, boots off, and jeans around his ankles. She faintly caught a glimpse of that tattoo again.

“Tell me where it’s going honey.”

She only smiled a devious smile.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier smut #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #james barnes #james barnes imagine #james barnes x reader #james barnes smut

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dailudannos · 4 years ago

Note

Walker and Bullet deserved redemption arcs and backstories don’t @ me

*cracks knuckles*

BUCKLE UP BITCHES, IT'S GONNA BE A BUMPY RIDE

Ok, but here's my hot take on Bullet and Walker's backstories and (maybe, possibly) character arcs

⚠️(Tw: mentions of death, murder, and/or very touchy topics. Viewer discretion is advised)⚠️

SO-

They knew each other in their past lives, as humans, and can remember bits and pieces, but it's fuzzy.

Bullet met Walker when he applied for a job at the prison. He needed a crew cut job to fit his resume before he retired in like, fifteen+ years

Idk, the name Braden Rameriaz fits?? A 40 year old with his eye on the prize

He is-

An African American/Hispanic black man

A raging bisexual

And has to live down in a good ol' racist and homophobic town where he has to work at

This is where he meets Walker though! Walker is the warden of the prison where he sees Bullet applying for a job at.

Jeremiah Sales, 45, good-looking, not so good with the ladies...

White/Indigenous/African American male

A pretty fucking gay cowboy if you ask me //joke

Pretty much closeted his whole life living in the same old town with his family around (yikes, I know how that feels)

So Walker hires this hot shot, and sees that he does...pretty well, at first. But when things start to get hard, his lackey position earns him to second-in-command, right at Walker's side.

A few years go by, and the two grow closer together, like, really close 😳

They didn't realize that they were gay cause a) Walker gives off straight vibes and b) Walker thought Bullet only liked women. So it was like, "Wait, you're gay?? And you thought I liked only women??"..."Well I thought maybe you were taken, so..."

Yay relationship!! It lasts for a few months until the love has to end

So one day it was a normal day at work, but Bullet got the day off so he decided to go for a swim. Where they live there's a lake which is good for fishing and swimming in the summer months. So he had a good thing going when some co-workers show up and act as if they were having a cookout near the lake. (The co-workers were planning this from the start).

Bullet thinks they're just having a good time, so he tries to mind his business. But as soon as he rose back out of the water, they hold him down and push him back down into the water...until he doesn't move anymore

The next day Walker expects Bullet to come in as per usual. But he hadn't been answering his phone, his house phone, or any other immediate family members. So he files a missing report, and goes on about the order. The co-workers, however, had other plans. Walker called an official meeting to try and find Bullet, and his last known whereabouts.

"Sir..."

"Yes, Clancy?"

"We apologize, but...we don't take kindly to you or your kind."

"What-"

Shot. Dead. Three times is all it took.

He realizes where he is once he materializes into the ghost zone, and he's angry, and mourning, and confused. Why would they do this to him? He tried his damndest for each and every guard at that prison. Why? Why him, and why Bullet? What did he do to deserve any sort of treatment?

His mind is a mess, he's disorderly, and can't make sense of it all. He drops to his knees and cries, sobbing what he has left until no more tears come out, while his ghost forms to what remains of him. A former skeleton of what he was.

"Walker?"

Bullet had been in the zone for a day, with a pair of cargo pants, a bandana, boots, and a worn-out cape that he found. He had mourned and mourned, crying over the pain in his eye as he was plunged under the water, leaving a mark over it. Crying over how he would never be able to breathe, love, or being touched again. Although his appearance helped better himself.

Reunited at last, they lived out the rest of their days in the ghost zone, still not over to what happened to them, still wanting revenge, but happy to be in each other's arms again.

For the redemption arcs, it would have to be something rule oriented or something happening to danny to really come to Walker and Bullet for help.

Danny would have to deal with runaway ghosts out of the zone to really screw up and not be able to protect the town.

So he's humiliated into doing this. And he manages to find Walker's lair, and find both Bullet and Walker at the door, looking confused (they're married, don't @ me).

"Walker, I need your help. Badly."

So Bullet has to talk Walker into helping the kid after he's explained to them what's going down in the real world. He firmly agrees, and Walker spends the rest of the day doing cleanup control with Danny, who's having a blast beating ghosts and even talking to some of Walker's guards.

Bullet's there watching as he helps out with the control. He's sort of smug, but he's cooing over the fact that the kid is growing on Walker.

"Got room for another second in command, Sheriff?"

"No. But I'm considering it."

"The kid's grown on you after all. With his ghost control over this town, it reminds me of a certain cowboy."

At the very end of the day, Danny thanks Walker and Bullet for all their help, and he sees that they genuinely take a compliment, rather than being stoic and gritty, like they usually are.

"Sure kid. Just call me if any ghost is breaking any rules!"

#danny phantom #dp walker #danny phantom walker #dp bullet #danny phantom bullet #dailu rambles #there's my hot take #just. just take it #anon #ask

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tigerdrop · 4 years ago

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Hfbbfbhbbbbff stumbles in here. Listen. Uhhhh hl gordo topping the absolute shit out of vr gordos like, fingers shoved in so far in his mouth and Benrey "accidentally" stumbling in to find them and just seeing vr gordos become such a fuckinf mess under hl gordo..... idk it's on the brain now thanks to you and honestly thank you very much

thank you very much for this fantastic idea i took it and ran way too far with it

vr gordon on his knees with a hand in his hair tilting his head back, hl gordon in the HEV suit with 3 fingers fucking his mouth so you know he got those gloves on, just looking him right in the eyes while he does it, vr gordons got his hands wrapped around hl gordons forearm and his thighs spread wide, hes fuckin droolin and flushed and moaning around hl gordons fingers

and then benrey walks in and vr gordon Flips and is like "mpphh mhmhpph" trying to get those fingers out of his mouth and be Normal but hl gordon just grabs his hair tighter and plunges them in deeper and turns to stare right at benrey. doesnt say anything. just gives him an intense, totally unreadable look

gordon getting cucked by hl gordon and not letting himself join in b/c he is emotionally and sexually repressed as all hell is great. but i think it would be really fucking good if hl gordon wordlessly invites benrey to join in. just jerks his head to the side like "get over here"

well, first benrey just stands there, eyes wide and surprised as all hell while vr gordon slaps at hl gordons arm until he takes those fingers out of his mouth. then he starts bitching like "fucking-- go away, benrey, wait a fucking minute here--" until hl gordon leans down and whispers something in his ear that benrey cant make out. but whatever it is, it has an Effect on vr gordon thats kind of like watching a glass of water be poured over his head - his mouth snaps shut, and his face turns a dark, dark red, and he swallows hard as he looks back at benrey. and then back to hl gordon. and then he says, real quiet, "uh. okay"

and then benrey gets another Look from hl gordon and hes like "uhhh. cool. yeah. this is cool" and steps into their circle like his legs are on autopilot cuz hes still like what is even going on, never fuckin seen freeman like that before, this is craaaazy ha ha

(like, okay, in this scenario hl gordon already fuckin knows that vr gordon is into benrey and hes just being a little emotionally-constipated bitch about it. thats the whole reason he nodded at benrey to let him join in anyway. so what hl gordon is whispering into his ear is something along the lines of, like, this is what he wanted to do anyway, right? hl gordon already knows. so why dont u be good for the both of them, gordon?)

then before he knows it, hes standing in front of vr gordon on his knees and casting a shadow over him and vr gordon is so fucking embarrassed right now. but, like, hl gordon wasnt wrong, and he really, really wants to be good for him. (and, you know, for benrey, but if he admits that to himself he might actually fucking die.) hes sweating as he looks up at the both of them, like, "uh, okay, hey. uh. what am i supposed to--"

hl gordon interrupts him by making a fucking obscene motion with his (still spit-slick) fingers, indicating that benrey should do what hl gordon was just doing a second ago. (please note: hes still got his other hand in vr gordons hair.) and benrey looks between the two of them with his hand raised halfway into the air, like, yo, is this cool? is this actually happening? hl gordon gestures at him like, go ahead, bro. and when his hand approaches vr gordons mouth and his fingers alight on his lip, that mouth parts just enough to let him in, even if vr gordons having a really goddamn hard time meeting his eyes.

and benrey slowly starts feelin him from the inside, feeling the slick surface of his tongue and teeth while hl gordon gives benrey encouraging gestures and shows him how best to do it. how to get vr gordon to whimper and drool around his fingers just like he was doing earlier. not that vr gordon needs much help getting there - the humiliation of copping to his feelings like this, on his knees and fellating his frenemys hand, combined with hl gordons fingers gently stroking and scratching his scalp and stroking his ear and jaw as if to say, youre doing good, is getting him 12 different kinds of Fucked Up. hes still too embarrassed by all this to really get back into Whoredon Freeman mode so easily, but the embarrassment is.......really fucking cute. its doing it for benrey. and soon enough, hes got 3 fingers in gordons mouth and is feeling those low noises gordons making just as much as hes hearing them

i just......i think hl gordon is neat......hes just......a really quiet guy that projects this air of almost total confidence just by virtue of not speaking that much (and therefore, never sticking his fucking foot in it) and talking with his hands comes a lot easier than speaking aloud.......and hes a nice guy who doesnt have a problem showing it when its necessary/appropriate but he doesnt abide bullshit b/c bullshit gets people killed, which vr gordon unfortunately has in spades........literally all just fucking made-up personality traits but i just see it very clearly in my head

in my mind he is the polar opposite of vr gordon. like. vr gordon is so desperate to maintain control over his peers and his environment and he mostly just......yells ineffectually and runs around like a big loud rooster trying to peck everybody into place. and clearly that shit dont work out too well for him. so in comparison hl gordon is just......effortlessly confident in what he does and how he acts and people are just naturally inclined to listen to him/take him seriously. or at least he appears that way on the outside - i imagine the guy still has some self esteem issues, both about himself as a person and in his own abilities to Do What Needs To Be Done. just.......being so quiet all the time projects that air

i also imagine that like......his smiles are a bit of a rare thing, too. especially for vr gordon, who spends most of the time rubbing him the wrong way. so when vr gordon does earn one of those smiles, or a thumbs up, or basically any kind of positive attention, it hits extra hard

still thinking about. hl gordon basically......teaching benrey how to fuck vr gordon. in so many words. starting with the fingers.....hes also quietly being encouraging towards benrey, too, communicating that hes doing good at this. (is hl gordon domming both of them at the same fucking time?? youre goddamn right he is.) and benreys tenting the absolute hell out of his slacks by the time hes got vr gordons hand wrapped around his wrist to keep him there, and by the time gordons whining around his fingers and spreading his legs open wider instinctually and jerking his hips a little against the arm hes got shoved down between em for just a little friction

and then hl gordon stops benrey and makes another obscene motion and-- oh. yeah, benrey would like to take care of his boner issue like that, thank you. benreys a little dumbfounded, like, "yo, uhhh, you really wanna suck my dick? friend?" and vr gordons like "oh my god, you didnt have to say it out loud! jesus fucking christ, do not say anything-- not another fucking word--" but hes cut off by hl gordons hand tugging his hair hard enough to make him hiss. "okay, okay, jeez!"

vr gordon shimmies closer and looks up at him, still red, still sweating, drool running down the corner of his mouth and trailing in a translucent string from benreys fingers. still embarrassed. but daring benrey to do as he was told. so benrey unzips himself with shaking fingers and pulls out his dick. hes fully hard already and hl gordons there to guide the both of them how to do it - takes vr gordons hand and curls it into a fist with his thumb tucked inside, guides vr gordons head with the hand still in his hair. pushes him onto benreys dick. and theres something decidedly fucking weird about hl gordons role in this, but hes clearly getting off on it, and so are the rest of them, so theres not a lot of room left for any of them to worry about it

i cannot rightfully allow myself to keep fucking writing this when i still havent finished writing gordon freeman coming untouched but im just fucking frothing thinking about hl gordon showing benrey exactly how to push vr gordons buttons. shows him how to finger vr gordon, which angle he should push gordons legs back to so he can hit just the right spot, guides him to take just the right pace and shows him how gordon likes his hair to be pulled

and benreys so obedient! its a marked difference from how much shit he gives vr gordon at any attempt to control him. vr gordons honestly a little miffed about it, but on the other hand, hl gordon is really good at jerking him around and getting him off and hes a very good teacher. he cant complain

Anyway. See Ya

#asky #writin stuff

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shyinadarkplace · 3 years ago

Text

Ville Vallo & Taurean (OC)

warning: this is shameless smut so 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

All the guys are out of the house , away on work or just idk stuff, Taurean has had the house to herself for a few days and while she is glad to have the solitude she's got an ache that needs to be handled. So she decides to distract herself knowing that attempting to get herself off will only leave her frusterated and in a worse situation she does what any sane person does....opens the windows in her house, puts fans in the windows, closes the blinds at the top , connects her phone to the home entertainment system ( like Lucien hooked it up so every speaker will play what ever is synced) , turns on her favorite playlists and starts cleaning like a fucking mad woman. Now we aren't talking light cleaning this is like deep cleaning moving shit reorganizing all that, she's really out here trying to burn energy. All the while she is absolutely rocking out to every song, she's dancing around, jumping, headbanging all that. Evening is approaching and finally she has made her way to the kitchen, while doing dishes and her favorite song comes on, Wings of a Butterfly. She is belting every line, and she can't stop thinking about Ville Vallo. The man is a literal god...of music to be precise. She listens twice and the dishes are done. Four times and she is just drifting around, thinking how Ville would feel in...no no can't let herself go down that road but fuck...

By the time the intro starts for the sixth time she has butterflies, she feels that knot low in her belly aching and her mind wanders, would a god of music even...then she feels someone press up behind her. Before she can turn and attack, their hands pin her on the counter. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck not good not good the guys are gonna kill me , shit! But then the person starts to sing....

"Heaven ablaze in our eyes

We're standing still in time...."

Taurean gasped . The next words to the song didn't play through the speakers but the melody continued…

"Hello darling." Ville softly rumbled pressing his lips into the crook of her neck inhaling deeply. "Oh sweet girl, you smell amazing....and your voice is rather stirring." Taurean moans arching into him as he presses a rather impressive member against her ass.

"The blood on our hands is the wine

We offer as sacrifice"

Ville trails kisses down her neck and shoulder grinding against her, while still keeping her hands pinned to the counter. For the moment anyway.

"Ooh fffuck. Ville ." Taurean grinds her hips back desperate for more friction. A lightning fast smack to her bare thigh (thanks to comfy short shorts perfect for cleaning) makes her yelp in surprise.

"Tut tut sweet girl. Be patient. I give you my word by the end of the song," he paused smirking noticing the delicate scarring that formed butterfly wings on her back, he decided he would trace every line with his tongue as he nipped right between her shoulder blades grinning at her mewling little moan,"every desire you have will be fulfilled."

"Now tell me sweet girl, do you want this? Do you want me to fill and stretch you, strum your body like I do an instrument.?" Taurean nodded her head. "I need words." Taurean's head was spinning but in the best way.

"Yes. Yes please. I want this." What happened next was nothing short of ecstasy.

The music surrounded Taurean; it was around her and in her. Her skin buzzed with the sensation. Ville loosened his grip on her hands and ran his hands up her arms circling one around her throat applying just the slightest amount of pressure. She felt the muscles in her thighs shake as her wetness began to trail down her inner thigh. As Ville's other hand caressed down her body, toying with her breasts, tracing the curve of her hips, all her clothes vanished. One second she was facing away from him the next they moved rooms, her back against a wall , her hands above her head, with Ville's bare thigh between her legs pressed against her heat. Her soft little moans made his cock jump.

“Come on, and show them your love

Rip out the wings of a butterfly

For your soul, my love Rip out the wings of a butterfly

For your soul

This endless mercy mile

We're crawling side by side

With hell freezing over in our eyes

Gods kneel before our crime"

"You want to cum sweet girl?" Ville's voice was electric, husky and full of erotic promises. Taurean nodded, not entirely sure when the knot in her belly had become so tight but she felt like she was already on the edge. And he'd hardly touched her at all.

Ville gripped her hip with one hand grinding her against his thigh, until she caught on and started herself. Then he leaned back slightly watching. She was certainly a sight. Her lips parted , waiting for him to dominate them. Her whole body flush from arousal, slightly glowing with a thin sheen of sweat as she worked herself furiously against his thigh. Her chest heaving as she panted, cursed and moaned all for him. Her perfect tits begging for attention. When Ville bent his head and took her nipple in his mouth while gripping her hip, grinding her soaking wet cunt harder against his thigh, Taurean's head hit the wall when she screamed in ecstasy even as her pussy clenched around nothing and ached to be filled. When he bit her other nipple, rolling it between his teeth then sucking to soothe the pain, another orgasm slammed into her and her body convulsed as she squirted , making a mess of them both. Ville felt like he was going to go absolutely feral.

"Come on lets show, them your love

Rip out the wings of a butterfly

For your soul,

my love Rip out the wings of a butterfly

For your soul...

Rip out the wings of a butterfly

Don't let go…

Rip out the wings of a butterfly

For your soul"

Taurean collapsed slightly against Ville as he released her hands once again . Her hands went to grip his shoulders as her whole body seemed to quiver.

"Ooh, fuck you," Ville said lifting her wrapping her legs around his waist holding her quivering body against him as he kissed and sucked every inch of skin he could currently reach. "You darling are absolutely ....breathtaking."

Taurean felt like she was sated until Ville cupped her face and took her mouth. There was a give and take. He both demanded and begged, craving the taste of her mouth and her moans. Taurean ran her fingers through his soft tresses tugging , he in turn rewarded her with groans. The sound of which sent heat straight to her core. As Ville kissed her, exploring her mouth, tasting and teasing, he walked toward a bed room he didn't give a fuck which one , he just needed somewher to lay her down and take her.

"Ville...please...fuck me." her plea was throaty and breathless. He kicked open a door and laid her on the bed taking her mouth again .

Ville lined himself up and Taurean arched into the feeling of his cock pressing into her, whimpering. Ville grabbed her chin, locking eyes with her.

"I can't hold back...can you take it all? Tell me now."

The only answer he got was Taurean wrapping her legs around him effectively pulling him balls deep inside her. Her moans were the sweetest thing he had ever heard as her tight little cunt adjusted to his length and girth. Ville groaned and growled against her neck . "Darling ...you feel...incredible...oh fuck"

Face still buried in her neck Ville slowly pulled his cock out, Taurean gasped at the sensation of every vein dragging against her velvety walls, when just the head of his cock rested inside her he stopped and looked deep in her eyes and slammed into her. She was lost . So high in her headspace that staring into his brown-black eyes it was like staring into the abyss, but instead of darkness there was music...his voice echos through her very bones. Ville's fingertips brushed up her abdomen as he plunged back inside her. Her whimpers and moans were nothing short of fucking angelic. He kept stroking her skin from her sensitive clit to the pulse point of her throat .

With each down stroke that matched the thrust of his cock she arched and writhed beneath him. Ville was a god . The number of women that he had pleasured since his youth numbered in the hundreds, but this little minotaur was by far the best. He felt a spark in his soul as her nails dug into his forearm, he kept strumming her as set a ruthless pace. Driving deep inside her.

Taurean could not explain how the fuck He was doing it , every stroke of his cock kissed her cervix in the most delicious way possible , every stroke of his fingers against her skin ignited every cell in her body, she constantly felt just on the edge of cumming . Tears stung her eyes and streamed down her cheeks....

"VILLE PLEASE" She needed to cum , needed it more than she needed to breathe.

Ville groaned the way she was milking his cock was driving him wild. Her poor little body would have cum at least three times by now if he hadn't stopped it...he had to have her at the same time he came. He was so close. Her tears of pleasure excited him, her whimpers made his cock throb, her pleas stoked his fire...an idea struck him ....he captured her mouth and devoured her in a kiss that would bring gods to their knees. It damn near brought him to his knees . She clung to him for dear life, her nails leaving angry red furrows in his skin. He tore his mouth away from hers and growled into her ear....

"....my sweet...little muse....sing for me..."

"Ville....I...Caaaann'tt.."

"....love...Please.....sing for...me.."

Taurean couldn't resist ...she took a deep breath…

Come on, I'll show you my love

Rip out the wings this butterfly

For your soul, my love

Rip out the wings this butterfly

Ville lost all control , as her words wrapped around him...oh fuck she improvised ... her voice sent chills up and down his spine...her dripping white hot tightness had a vise on his cock and fuck it felt so good…

"That's it sweet girl... fuck yes...go on.." He felt the tell tale tingling forming at the base of his spine...he was gonna cum before the song was over....he threw his head back groaning , slamming into her roughly simultaneously pulling her down to meet each thrust....

Taurean felt his cock throb... she moaned ...and got a wicked idea...he hadn't let her cum yet ...she'd return the favor…

For your soul...

Rip out the wings of this butterfly

Don't let go…

Her words struck him like a truck.... he felt like he was about to explode and yet couldn't ....wicked little minx ...he rolled her nipple pinching hard...smirking as her eyes widened, he knew and she knew that he did...fuck.

Rip out the wings this butterfly

For your soul

Rip out the wings of this butterfly

For your soul

"FUCK ! VILLE ....VILLE ...PLEEEEEAASEEE!!!!" And then she screamed the last line that she had omitted before…

"LET GO!!!!!"

As his cock kissed her cervix she arched and screamed in pure ecstasy with tears running down her face, her hot silky walls spasming around him. With one final brutal thrust his cock throbbed he threw head back and gave what can only be described as a roar as he exploded sending rope after rope of thick hot cum deep inside her.

Ville carefully thrust ever so slowly as brought them both down from a high neither had felt before and he caged Taurean beneath him, gently wiping her tears. Almost surprised when she pulled him down for a slow deep kiss nibbling his lip

"I feel.....light headed...ville..".

He groaned at the sultry sexed out sound of her voice feeling lightheaded as well

"little muse...so do I ...that was ...incredible..."

He gently pulled his softening cock from her twitched pussy. She whimpered at the sensation. He leaned back and admired the absolute mess they had made.

"Hold on a moment let me get you some water and a cookie..." as he spoke, the items appeared on the bedside table. He lifted Taurean and set her up against the pillows and gave the now opened water to her as well as the cookie. "Rest a moment , I'll get us both cleaned up.." before he could walk away Taurean grabbed his hand .

"Wait ..." she broke the huge cookie in half , offering it and the other bottle of water. " Doms need after care and you look about to crash ...please."

Ville was taken aback for a moment no one had EVER taken the time to notice or care about him after...he sat down next to her and took the cookie and water , eating and drinking in companionable silence . Once done got up and went to the bathroom he had noticed , found a washcloth cleaned himself ,then getting another he wetted it with hot water, keeping it warm in his hands he strode out and kelt by the bed...he looked up at Taurean . "Allow me ..." she nodded and whispered " thank you."

"of course ." Ville gently cleaned away the mess they had made aware of how sensitive she would still be.

Taurean noticed how loving and attentive his actions were and suddenly felt tears ...ah shit .

" V-ville...dropping..."

Without a thought he jumped up and climbed into the bed behind her bringing the thick warm covers up around her shivering body. He wrapped his arms around her and played with her hair humming something resembling a lullabye until her breathing deepened and evened out. Before he knew it he too fell asleep .

They both awoke to four men ranging from big as all fuck to slim athletic, standing at the side of the bed arms crossed , dangerous smirks and cocked eye brows.

The two largest looked at each other and grinned . The one with golden eyes spoke and sparks danced on his tongue...

" Oh Little One, that was quite the show."

"It really was Kitten." Said the one with storms in his eyes.

The one with emerald green eyes spoke next "Baby girl I bet you are starving"

"You know our little Sweetling is always hungry after a good fucking and a nap." said the one with maroon eyes.

Ville smirked and caged Taurean beneath him, she went to protest and he whispered appealing to her bratty nature, “If you are going to be punished little muse, might as well make it worth it. Yeah?” She shrugged and giggled, then he started kissing her hard and deep until she was moaning against his mouth and arching against his body. Ville almost laughed while Taurean smirked ever the brat at the sound of four alpha males growling ....

maybe there was yet more fun to be had..

#smutty #original writing

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seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana · 4 years ago

Text

The Girl in The Blue Dress

Chapter 12: The Queen Has Fallen

Part 2!

Heheh @megatraven >:)). From the title,,,we know what happens:(. It includes death like always (not too graphic bc Im not like that) but there is some blood mentioned but not rlly in detail. Just warning just in case any of y’all (or you) don’t like blood. And dang while writing this even I was like “wow,,,Apollo really loves her and I’m so sorry Apollo,,,”. And idk if you read the first chapter bc I didn’t see a reblog and if you want fluff,,,I recommend that chapter at least bgfrkef. This one is just angst so hehe >:)). I read through it all but I still sometimes miss things so I hope its good :’’)

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Rose lets out a shout as she runs towards the king. He meets her with his sword as she meets his. The sound of metal reverberated throughout the room, even louder in their ears. Rose winced at the sound, but pushed it away as she pushed down on the kings sword. He looked surprised and faltered for a second, but caught himself and pushed her away with all his force. She was pushed a few feet away from him, but caught herself before she could fall. The king laughed at her. The laugh sounded just like the one that she heard those years ago, the one that echoed in the chamber, and now she wasn’t afraid of the laugh. She let out another growl as she ran towards the king, her sword raised again. He met her sword again, and they kept doing this over and over again. The kings arms began to grow tired as her swings kept coming.

“What’s wrong, King? Can’t handle it?” She shouted as her swings came faster and harder, all of them fueled with rage. The king scoffed at her but didn’t reply.

After two more swings, the third swing of Rose’s sword managed to strike him on his side. The king let out a loud scream even scaring Rose for a second. He fell to the floor and Rose grabbed his sword and threw it to the other side of the room. Rose was panting and it felt like her lungs were going to explode, but she spoke.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” she said, sadness in her voice. Rose leaned against the wall near the door and looked at the king. “What are you doing?” The king was confused and angry and he noticed sadness on her face. “I didn’t want it to end like this, ya know? I wanted peace and to fight for it peacefully, but you couldn’t have that could you?”

He scoffed at her. “Why would I? It’s always nice to go down with a fight, and you seemed to enjoy bringing me down.”

“I enjoyed putting your reign to an end,” she said with venom. He tried to trick her into thinking she wanted to kill him, but she never did. She wanted peace. That’s all she wanted. He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. He was sitting down with his back against the wall near the balcony. He was clutching his side and seemed to be in a ton of pain, but didn’t show it. His time was coming to a close, and she had to watch as he died. She wanted to get help, tried to say it wasn’t too late, but the nurses were far away and wouldn’t have time to come here, so it was too late.

She got up slowly and grabbed her two coins from her tiny pocket in the armor. It was gold coins and only two for him. She walked to him and laid him on his back and placed the gold coins on his eyes.

“May your ride to the Underworld be peaceful.”

She then carried herself down the multiple stairs, wincing at the pain in her feet and back. When she got in front of the castle, she went to the gardens and saw some soldiers on the ground, dead, or wounded, and some of them were standing up. She looked around and was proud of what just took place. But she couldn’t stand there for long before she heard a voice behind her.

“Sweetie...we did it!” Rose turned around to see her mother behind her with a bright smile on her face. She had a few cuts and bruises, but she was alive and Rose hugged her as tight as she could. “We did it, Mom,” she said as she cried. They both let out their happy tears as they hugged. Melody pulled away first and laid her hand on her daughters cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Rose.”

She kissed Rose on her forehead and gave her a little pat on her cheek. “Now, theres someone else who needs to see you. I think he’s still in the castle. We got separated. Can you find him while I take care of the injured?” Rose nodded at her mother and her mother gave her one last kiss on her forehead as she left to go find Apollo. She looked around the castle for awhile until she ran into Apollo. Rose screamed and Apollo screamed. However, when they noticed it was each other, they sighed and gave each other a tight hug.

“You’re real, right?” Rose whispered the question as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. Apollo rested his cheek on her head and ran his hand down her back as the other was tangled in her hair. “Yes, Rose. I’m real. We’re both here.” They stayed in that hug for a few minutes before they pulled away. They looked at each other before Rose leaned in and kissed him. Apollo felt blessed. He had a chance to kiss her again. He forgot about the dagger in his holster and just held her while he could. However, they pulled apart when they heard a whimper come from a corner. They were in the huge dining room and they saw a little girl standing in the middle. Her clothes looked torn, there were bruises on her face, and she was looking around with fear.

Rose and Apollo ran to the little girl and Rose crouched to her level. “Are you okay? When did you get in here?” The girl looked at Rose and Apollo felt a feeling. A little feeling as if he’s seen this girl before. “I-I don’t know!” Rose looked at her confused. “You don’t know?” The girl nodded and wiped at her eyes. “My names Lumie and I’m scared!” Rose shushed the girl as she began to cry and she got back up and held her hand out for her. “Come with me. We’re going to get help, this is all over.” Lumie stared at her hand before she looked back up at Rose and motioned for her to come closer. Rose did and the girls frown turned into a smile. “The war may be over, but its not over for you.” The girls hand was pushed onto Rose’s chest and it looked like something was pushed into her chest.

Rose let out a gasp and coughed as she took a few steps back. Apollo tried to go near her, but Rose held her hand out meaning for him to stop. Lumie laughed and Apollo looked at her. The girl now had pink pigtails, a purple dress on, and lace gloves on. This was the creature he’d been seeing. The creature that cursed Rose in the first place. “Aw, I got you again didn’t I?” Apollo was still in shock, so he didn’t move, he just turned his look back towards Rose. She had her head held down, hands around her throat, even if she wasn’t coughing anymore, and she was silent. “Rose?”

Rose looked up at Lumie, and Apollo noticed that her eyes were now white. Her pupils and beautiful, blue eyes were gone and her smile was now a frown. Her face that almost always shown happiness towards everyone...now was wearing a face of anger. And as she looked at her, Lumie laughed and pointed at Apollo. Rose’s gaze turned to his.

“Get him, Rose!”

And as Apollo heard Lumie say that, the promise he made to Rose came to the front of his mind.

“Please, Kill me if something goes wrong.”

Rose let out a grunt as she pulled out her sword and ran towards Apollo. He rolled away from her and got his sword out. He met Roses sword just as it was about to hit him. She was now stronger than normal and only grunts came out of her. “Rose! Calm down,” he said as she pushed her sword down harder. He pushed back and she skidded a few feet away. “Rose, calm down. We don’t have to fight.” Apollo held his hand out and put the other with the sword down. Rose just shook her head and ran back towards him. He met her sword again, and he realized what he had to do. He had to kill her. Every time she striked, Apollo would put his hand on her armor and unlock it slowly. It took 10 hits, his arms getting weaker every moment even with his God strength, and her chest plate was off, revealing her torso and the cloth she wore covering her upper chest. He then managed to make her lose her balance and fall to the ground. He knocked her sword out of her hand and he gets on top of her and holds her hands together above her. She was struggling against him, grunts and curses coming from her mouth. Apollo hated to see her like this and he promised her.

Apollo sees his chance and he pulls out the blue dagger from its holster, it still shining its beautiful blue, the blue that matches Rose. He looked into Roses eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

He then took the dagger and plunged it right in her stomach. Rose’s curses and anger filled voice went quiet. Her eyes went wide and her mouth was parted letting little whimpers seep through. As Apollo stared her in the eye, he slowly saw her blue eyes fade back in. When they were finally fully there, he knew Rose was back...and he started shaking. What he had done caught up to him. However, before he could say anything or do anything, Rose looked him in the eye and she smiled. She smiled at him as she was in pain. Apollo was holding her hands together with his godly strength to stop her from attacking him earlier, but he let her hands go and they went to his cheeks. She stroked one cheek with her thumb.

“Thank you.”

The tears Apollo held back slowly dropped down his cheeks as he heard her thank him.

“How can you thank me?!”

Rose would hold back the whimpers of pain as she laughed, even though it hurt so bad.

“You kept your promise to me. How can I not thank you for that? Now,” She let out a gasp of pain as she tried to move, “hold me?” She asked as if he would say no. He got off of her slowly trying not to hurt her. He got on his knees and pulled her so he was holding her in his arms. She let out little whimpers of pain whenever she moved, but she tried to hold them back as best as she could. She couldn’t show weakness...even in death.

“Rose, I-I’m so sorry. I couldn’t see a way out and I’m so sorry.” Apologies poured out of Apollo. Rose just smiled again and shushed him.

“It’s okay, Apollo. I think I always knew it would end like this. End with me losing it somehow...and then dying. But I never imagined a handsome man beside me,” she said with a little chuckle. She then laid her hands against the dagger that was still in her stomach. “And it sucks how my dagger will now be ruined...”.

Apollo let out a pained laugh. “I-I guess, yeah. And I’m sorry it has to be my fault.”

“Apollo,” Rose said with that tone of anger. That tone she used when Apollo was blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault...but this time it was his fault. However, Rose looked up to to the ceiling instead of saying anything after his name. Her eyes seemed a little unfocused, which made a Apollo worried. She was close. He didn’t need to be Hades to know that she was almost gone.

“I wonder what will happen after this,” Rose said after she let out a little whimper. She took in a shaky breath and continued. “Who will be the queen? What will happen to the people? Where will I go?”

“Where will you go?”

Rose looked at Apollo and was curious. “I’m dying. I’m gonna go somewhere...where do you believe we go?” Her question was genuine and Apollo knew Rose was scared. She believed in the gods but she doesn’t know the answers to everything. Heck, he doesn’t even know why she worships the gods. They don’t deserve it, but she kept hoping. Praying. And this is where it lead her.

Lead her to death...again, and again, and again, and again.

Apollo looked up at the ceiling as he thought. “Well, the underworld.”

“What will happen?” Apollo would look back down at Rose and shrug his shoulders. “I’m not sure, my dear. I’m not Hades himself,” he said, but he now knows a question he will be asking Hades when he goes back to Olympus. Rose lets out a breath through her nose along with another whimper.

“You know what I wish I could say to the Gods?” Rose looked him in the eye and he saw tears. Her blue eyes were glossy and he was glad to see it like that. He thought it was better than seeing her blue eyes erased, making only her eye visible and white, and full of anger. He shook his head and Rose looked back up at the ceiling.

“I’d ask them why.”

“Why?”

“Why did they abandon us? Why do they not hear us?” Rose’s voice cracked as her tears fell down her cheeks and her voice began to lower in volume. “I don’t know, Rose. I wish they were here now,” he said, as his own tears fell down his face. Rose noticed his tears and made a motion with her hand for him to lean down. He listened and Rose put one hand on Apollo’s cheek. She looked him in the eye and he saw love there, and she kissed his tears away. She was kissing his cheeks, under his eyes, his nose, and then his lips. She kissed every part of him, and when she pulled away, she said one more thing.

“I love you. Don’t forget that. And please,” she paused as she let out a whimper as she moved his hand down to her dagger, “don’t lose this. I know it’s a bad memory, but I don’t want anyone else to have it, okay? Promise me. Promise,” she said with urgency as she tightened her grip on his hand. She then felt her heart rate go up as if it was getting its last pumps in. Her vision began to blacken at the edges, blurrier as well. Her hearing sounded like she was under water, but she could still hear Apollo as he rested his forehead against hers, his last tears falling onto her cheeks, and whispered, “I promise, Rose. I’ll love you forever.”

She smiled at him one last time and didn’t even know how serious he was. He would love her forever, but she didn’t need to know what he was right now. He just wanted her to have peace. As she closed her eyes and squeezed his hand for the last time, she stopped breathing and her pain stopped. When he saw her chest not rise anymore, he looked up and wanted to scream, but it couldn’t come out. As he was holding her tight to him, he heard rushed footsteps coming from behind him that stopped before they reached him.

“Apollo? She finally found you!” It was Melody. Her voice sounded so worried and happy that she found him, but once she saw him curled over a body, her heart dropped. She ran to him and fell to her knees beside him. She began to shake as she saw her daughter, her dear daughter, pale and covered in blood...and dead. She noticed the dagger in her stomach and saw how Apollo and Roses hands were entwined together. Apollo couldn’t look Melody in the eye. He wouldn’t dare. He just looked down at Roses face, as if he could bring her back. But he couldn’t no matter how hard he wished he could. Melody let out a shaky breath, and sobs quickly came from her and Apollo still couldn’t look at her. He didn’t know how he could. He killed her daughter. However, he felt another hand grip his own. He finally looked over to Melody and noticed her nodding her head at him.

“I know, Apollo. I know,” she said, her voice soft and hoarse. He saw cuts and bruises on her face and knows that everyone has suffered in this. As Melody pulled Apollo close to her and rested her forehead on his shoulder, he began to cry quietly again.

After a few more minutes, Apollo slowly took the dagger out of Rose, as if she would wake up and scream how it hurts. Once he took it out, he put it in its holster and picked Rose up. He could still hear her cries when she tried to move, but he held her bridal style as he and Melody walked back to the group. Once they were there, people looked over to Apollo and saw Rose in his arms. Apollo sucked in a breath and let it out.

“The queen has fallen.”

It was silent in the garden, but many had looked like they wanted to speak. Then, sobs were heard as Apollo laid Rose on one of the bed rolls they had laid out for the wounded. People gathered around and stood in silence, sat in silence, or sobbed. They never called her the queen since she wanted to be one of the people she led, but she was their queen...and now she has fallen.

HEHE MEG!! ITS SO SAD AND I WAS LIKE “wow,,,I really wrote that,” LIKE BFIFIHO. I hurt myself but hey thats the point of this series. But it gets better and honestly a little cooler (in my opinion) in her final lifetime >:))). But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this and sorry for it being so long again :’). I love writing love stuff so much, so hope it’s not too long for your taste.

And sorry this took SO long to come out. I’ve literally had it sit in my drafts for so long jkefd. ANYWAYS YEAH LOVE YOUUU.

#my writing #The Girl in The Blue Dress #hMmMm. I'm actually sad bc hMMM APOLLO IM SO SORRY #But her final lifetime I've been able to think of and honestly..it's kinda cool. And it goes completely away from Greek #Mythology...like this whole series has lol. But it makes NO sense if you pay attention to the Greek mythology #so we're gonna act like it doesn't exist rn. But yeah loveee youuu. Goodnight <:3.#WELL ACTUALLY IT KINDA GOES ALONG WITH IT??? IN A WAY??? HMMM...my thoughts ramble

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slutsofren · 5 years ago

Text

Paint Me Red

Summary: Being a struggling artist in a city filled of aspiring artists has always been rough, you were privileged enough to have a semblance of steady income thanks to the promotional work your manager, Poe Dameron, does for you. For the past however many weeks, you've become consumed with the works of an anonymous poet, one who has captivated their own cult following. Their works have inspired countless paintings of yours and in turn, you catch the eye of one Kylo Ren.

Tags: Kylo Ren reader insert / modern au / painter reader / poet Kylo / eventual romance / maybe smut idk / Kylo has Trauma but you dont have to “fix him”

Read on AO3 here!

Chapter 1: Gallery (below the cut)

You kept looking at the painting. No matter how many times you re-painted, reinterpreted this poem, your hands just couldn’t find a consistent translation between the words and your paint. You dropped the brush and leaned back in the chair, hanging your head as far back as you could and let out a loud groan.

“Why does this have to be so complicated ,” you exclaimed to nobody in particular. It’s been a month since you cooped yourself in this studio, a whole month! It felt like you’ve accomplished nothing but waste canvas and paint this entire time. All along the floor laid waste to the discarded abstract portraits you had produced and hated. Nearly a fraction had been left unfinished due to it just not working out.

You mumbled and grumbled while you stood and relocated to the workspace of the studio, where a computer and books had been thrown about. The computer woke, nearly blinding your eyes. What time is it anyways, you wondered. The sun had set some time ago, you knew just as much when you could barely see your work and were forced to lose focus to turn on a light. That distraction had really set you back.

A quick glance to your watch informed you that no, the sun didn’t just set a while back- it set well over six hours ago. The time had been creeping to two in the morning already, no wonder your eyes were straining so hard. When your computer unlocked and you opened your music app to play some background audio, you grabbed the leatherbound book that was inspiring your work.

Nobody knew who the author was, only that they released two-hundred and fifty black leather bound books with gold foiling titled “Mine” every couple of years. You were close friends to some editors down in San Diego, the same publisher that worked with this anonymous author and they were always kind enough to secure you a copy.

They wrote like it was the last thing they’d ever write, as if pain circulated through their veins. They wrote of being lost, being hurt, feeling such intense anger with no human outlet, and of being ignored and tossed away.

Sometimes they wrote like they’d be dead before the poem had ended.

Much of this resonated with you. Ever since you moved to Los Angeles, this magnificent city of wanna-be actors and musicians, seeing lights that inspired yet mocked the pedestrians down below, you’ve felt like you were dead yourself. When you moved here, all you ever wanted to be was a painter. It didn’t always matter what you painted, you loved a variety of styles and eras, as long as commissions paid the bills and your personal pieces sold at galleries, you were satisfied.

But sometimes being satisfied wasn’t enough.

You took the black book and opened to the poem you had been hyper-fixating on for the last couple of months since it was released. You interpreted it in as many ways as you could style your hair on any given day. This one spoke to you the moment you read it, it broke your heart, mended it, then threw it away all at once. To you, this particular poem breathed new life into your soul.

You read each line over and over, admired how this poet seemed to write effortlessly, as if it’s just how they speak. Gosh, what you would do just to meet and have a conversation, to understand the mysterious writer’s genius.

And so you kept painting, never seeing each unfinished canvas as a failure but rather an entirely different interpretation. You couldn’t let this get you down, you just had to keep working- keep picking up the paint and let loose.

As the days blended together, your manager, Poe Dameron waltzed into your workspace without a care in the world. You turned down the music that you had playing in the background while you worked.

He picked up one of your unfinished works, “I got you a gallery space, set for two weeks from now in Pasadena. Sponsored by the Norton Simon Museum.” The way these words rolled off his tongue was so nonchalant, you didn’t believe it.

You let out a choke, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you got a space, now give me something to tide them over with- oh, that looks nice can I take that one,” he grabs another unfinished painting. “Anyways, don’t worry about promoting it, they are all over it. They’re just calling it Artist Spotlight but they’re going to need a theme name.”

Your eyes drifted over your amazing manager, he worked just as tirelessly as you did with each and every one of his clients. It was no wonder he was married already, with a charming smile like his and the luscious hair to match made him a total darling.

“Let’s call it, Paint Me Red .”

“You got it, girl,” he walked over to you and gave a chaste kiss on your cheek and left with his silent goodbye. Although you were nothing more than his client, you loved him very much. He always gave you a rough time when you needed it but was always a person you could rely on to tell you the truth when you needed it.

To sum it up, Poe Damereon was a guy you paid to berate you like a protective older brother and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Those two weeks passed and you worked even more tirelessly. The artist in you was seldom satisfied by your creations but your manager reaffirmed even your “trash” paintings were more beautiful than the best modern oil paintings for which you found yourself taking the most comfort in.

It was difficult to remove yourself from this mindset but as your gallery expanded with each rise of a new day, you became prouder of not just what you painted but of yourself. This was going to be a showcase that you were to be proud of.

Your night came which brought nerves like no other. Los Angeles had a rough art community to grow and develop but this was the place for you. You arrived at the gallery, dressed as professional yet as fierce as you could in a shimmery silver gown that bared your shoulders in a skinny strap that had a plunging neckline. You wanted to wow your crowd with your paintings and yourself.

You poured your heart out over this collection- you wanted, more than ever, to receive a warm reception and maybe a little bit of praise in the meantime. It didn’t make you vain, it made you human.

The director of the art studio welcomed you with a glass of champagne and let you wander the space before it opened to the public. Your heart swelled with emotion as you glanced over all these white walls that supported your artwork. Abstracts, sharp lines on some, a couple that resembled portraits of a human-like void. Anything and everything of what could be taken of that single poem.

Over some small amount of time, guests began to fill the building, allowing others to finally view what you’ve worked tirelessly over these past however many weeks, well, months really. As the newness of this exhibit of yours wore off, you began to get antsy, started to bite on the inside of your cheek.

You felt eyes on you as you hid your face behind the fourth glass of champagne you managed to snag. The more nervous you felt, the hotter the room got. This is beginning to be way too much- oh stars, you can’t breathe- it feels like you’re dying, like you’re-

“Are these yours,” a dark voice asked behind you. You stood up straight and turned slowly, trying to get your mind away from whatever was happening to you.

“I- yes they are.”

This tall, handsome stranger looked at the painting that was next to you, something that mildly resembled Everts’ Studies in Desperation series. It was one of your darker interpretations, something filled with a little more hatred and angst than the rest.

“They’re very nice, what inspired you?”

Your mouth opened agaped and quickly shut, you didn’t want to look like a fish now. You opened up your bag and pulled out your trusty copy of Mine and showed the stranger. “This poet, their selections have always called to me but, Red, Mine would repeat in my head nearly nonstop until I picked up a brush and painted what it spoke to me.”

He grabbed the book from your hand and flipped through it slowly, sometimes reading the short notes you had written on some of the pages, like “I love this one,” or even, “I’ve felt like this before”. As he took his time going through the leatherbound poetry, you took this moment just to admire just how handsome the man before you is.

He stood tall and confident, long black hair that looked soft enough that you had to refrain from running your fingers through; his face was littered with constellation-like moles that truly gave his presence some warmth and beauty despite the deep angry red scar that cut threw them like a blade. The large crooked nose stood just as prominent as his ears but, by the stars, he made it work. All of these features suit his being so well, almost as if he was your own personal Adonis, you wanted to paint his beauty.

His long lashes finally looked up from your bookmarked page of Red, Mine where you had written very simply, “This one,” and a heart. He closed the black book with a small thud, almost entirely muted by the sounds of your audience mingling.

“You really liked that one,” he questioned as he handed the object back to you. You took it from him and gestured around you.

“All of these paintings represent how this one poem has made me feel. Loss, hope, anger, hurt, fear,” you paused while you looked at the man before you and held his gaze, “But most of all, this particular poem has made me feel accepted. Like I’m not alone. Almost like, it’s my turn to be strong, it’s silly-”

“No, by all means, no, it’s not silly,” he interrupted you. His eyes had grown wide and you realized he put his hand out to almost hold your shoulder but quickly retreated to put his hands in the pockets of his suit’s pants. His jaw flexed for a brief moment and he looked to his feet. “I have their collection too. It’s a good read from time to time.”

Your lips turned up in a small grin, “Yeah, they are. I’m glad to have met another Anonymous Poet enthusiast.”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat, “What’s something you’d say to them if you ever could?”

“Hmm,” you wondered, “That I love their work, I’d love to sit down and talk, wonder what they think- what their thought process is. Maybe thank them for helping me cope and tell them that I don’t think I’d be alive without their words. Heck, I’d even work up the courage and ask if they like my interpretations of their poetry. I’m not sure, what would you say?”

He looked at you almost like you had shot him, “I think I’d simply say that I’m sorry they went through whatever they did to get them where they are. That they’re stronger now.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Poe came and placed his hand on your arm and called your name, “Hey, girl. Time for your speech and then people can start buying your art.”

You looked back at your strange new friend and he gave you a small encouraging smile, “It was nice meeting you.”

As Poe began to drag you away you piped up, “I didn’t catch your name!”

“Kylo- Kylo Ren.”

You gave him a small wave before you turned your back on him and approached the stage. Poe did the honors of introducing you, calling your vision “illuminating and awe-inspiring”. Finally it was your turn.

You approached the glass podium with only a mild case of anxiety shaking within your bones. The lights, however warmly hued they were to temper against the constant rotation of art still seemed like a spotlight on you. You cleared your throat.

“Hi- hello,” you introduced yourself, mentioning you're the creator, “Thank you all very much for being here and supporting me tonight. This entire exhibit is decorated with a wide variety of my illustrations in both dedication of and inspired by the Anonymous Poet, creator of Red, Mine the poem. It is only fitting that I should read the very words that seemed to have possessed my mind these past couple months, you think?”

The audience gave a chuckle. You looked up and around, feeling hints of anxiety nipping at the silhouette of your being. Across the room, leaning against the small bar table, you spotted Mr. Ren and when he noticed you staring, he raised his glass of champagne. Urging you to continue.

It was almost as if his steady gaze and warm features guided your confidence to hold steadfast and ready, your courage multiplied and tingles at the tips of your body, sparking new found strength.This small gesture kept those dark hounds at bay in your mind.

You cleared your throat and began, “Red, Mine

This is how the story goes

It has never changed, never been altered

It didn’t make much difference

The twin suns are rising in the west now,

The world changed from when you knew me last

This is how the story goes

This life of mine would be snuffed in green lights

Then you were there to guide me

Truth is, you could never be thanked

I would never be forgiven

This is how the story goes

I snuffed the little lights that had mocked me

Tore down the buildings that confined me

I ran

I never stopped running

This is how the story goes

I found solace in red

This green and blue would have ended my life

The both of you tried and failed

I will live on bathed in black and red

This is how the story goes

This fire red consumed me

I consumed red

Now it’s your turn to run.”

At the beat of the last syllable, you could hear a warm applause, a gracious signal of congratulations. Your smile kissed the corners of your lips and your heart swelled with warmth. This was exactly where you were meant to be in life and you couldn’t be prouder of yourself.

Your speech wrapped up with the ceremonious thank yous and appreciation to all who came as well as the Norton Simon Museum for sponsoring the showcase. Not to mention the big fat check you got on their behalf.

Poe lent you a hand as you descended the platform, “Alright, now go mingle and sell some art!”

You gave him a warm kiss on the cheek and another wave of thanks. One hand took yet another glass of champagne as the other held your clutch tightly. Your heels clinked against the tile of the gallery as you floated in and out of conversation, selling your artwork and trying to network and make new professional relationships.

It was rather obvious that leaving early would be considered rude but your feet hurt as much as your eyes. All you wanted was your warm bed and soft music to lull you to sleep. You spotted Poe across the room speaking with a pale gentleman, donned in a navy blue suit and matching tie, his orange hair was just as slicked back as his authoritative presence. You watched as they shook hands and the stranger departed, leaving the building entirely without a glance back.

Poe caught your eye and his jaw dropped, just nearly bolting into a fast pace walk, attempting to keep whatever semblance of professionalism as he could without knocking any of the patrons over as he bee-lined straight to you.

“You will not believe what I’m about to tell you,” his brown eyes lit up.

You gave him a hesitant look, clearly it was good news but usually Poe Dameron was in a good mood usually meant him ending in some kind of trouble. “Then don’t tell me?”

Your manager gave you a deadpanned look and pulled out his clipboard, “Every single piece was sold before you even walked off the stage.” He handed you the order sheet and sure enough, each and every painting was bought by the same person, leaving only AP as the buyer’s name.

“AP?”

“Initials for a little someone called the Anonymous Poet,” with those words you instantly felt faint. There was no way, no goddamn way.

“Was that him? Poe, was that really him,” your voice faltered. Your hand rose to cover your open mouth, eyes wide.

He did nothing but shrug and give you a sly smile, admiring your shocked expression, “The man I talked to was not, rest assured, but clearly your muse admires you and your work.” Poe gave you a small squeeze on your shoulder, feeling your oncoming emotional whirlwind. “If you faint on me now, you won’t hear the best part,” he teased.

“What is it, tell me,” you rushed the words out as fast as you could, the heat licking at your skin as your anticipation mixed with anxiety.

Poe reached into his pocket and retrieved a sleek black business card and flashed it at you. “Expect an email within the next few days, your muse wants to talk with you.”

You felt Poe’s warm hands grasping your shoulders as you fell. After all, Poe did say to wait until after he gave you good news.

#asher's writing #paint me red #kylo ren #kylo x y/n #kylo x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren reader insert #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars smut #star wars reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/you

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newathens · 5 years ago

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sally and amphitrite and poseidon iv. i will be honest idk how far this fic will go but it’s been so much fun writing it. i hope you have fun reading it xx—

“Reservation for Jackson.”

The restaurant was cavernous, two levels and a grand staircase, but still warm and welcoming. Candles burned at white-clothed tables. Light-hearted conversation filtered through the air. Low-lighting made everything overtly intimate. Amphitrite’s hand in hers was her focal point as they were led to their table.

Sally smiled behind her menu. They used her name.

Albeit—the Mist is what got the table. Still, it was the little things.

“Sally?”

“Hm?” she looked up to find green eyes on her.

“How was work?” Poseidon asked. She tilted her head and arched a brow. He smiled, “You know I care about the mundane human activities, as you refer to it.”

“It was just fine,” she said.

“And Jared?”

“Oh, still a dick.”

“Jared?” Amphitrite asked. Sally leaned forward, dropping her voice even though the chance of eavesdroppers was nonexistent.

“This annoying coworker I have. He’s technically a little higher up than most of us in the department, but we still all work in the same cubicles and eat our bag lunches, so there’s no reason for him to be as arrogant as he is. Also, he’s completely sexist. He hides it, but you can tell.”

Amphitrite hummed in reply and set her eyes downcast.

“Don’t smite him,” Poseidon followed without pause.

“Never without her permission.”

“You say that so casually,” Sally said.

“She’s trigger happy,” he said.

“You’re one to talk, earthshaker.”

The conversation went on from there. Only when the waiter came for their orders did there come a stumble.

“Oh, she doesn’t eat,” Poseidon said when the man had asked what Amphitrite would be having, then he glanced sideways to Sally. “She never eats. Refuses to, really. Thinks human food is below her.”

The waiter paled and Sally wondered, idly, what he was actually hearing. She smiled sympathetically. Again, the two gods played their staring game but in the end, Amphitrite ordered the salmon and wine. Expensive wine.

“What a dent that’s going to make to our wallet,” he said nonchalantly, but Sally watched how his eyes lingered on her. As if in shock. As if this was unheard of, something Amphitrite would only do once in a thousand years. For a special reason. . . or someone.

Sally didn’t want to be presumptuous, she couldn’t possibly be the one thing that broke a goddess’ eternal fast, so she took a deep breath and kept talking.

They laughed and joked and drank as the restaurant rose and fell in busy bouts around them. It felt natural in a way Sally hadn’t often experienced before. Sure, human connection was possible, but growing up without both parents always left the feeling of otherness.

With them, otherness was somewhat a prerequisite of belonging.

She was enthralled—couldn’t get enough of them. They seemed to glow the happier they got, a soft, golden shine that drew your eye to them. And the way their iris’ twinkled, the colors twirling, never quite staying still. The stories they told as if she had been there to witness—thank goodness she had brushed up on mythology or she’d be lost.

It all felt strangely familiar as if there had never been before, only now, and this is what was since the start. A wonderful thing to feel. No wonder she lov—

Sally pulled back. Not that far, she thought, not again.

When the main courses were served, Amphitrite stared at her plate. Even the fork looked foreign in her hand.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Sally said.

“No, I ordered it,” she insisted, though grimaced as the food hit her mouth. A grimace that turned to confusion.

Poseidon laughed behind his palm, which made Sally lift her own to hide a humored smile.

“It’s not. . .the worst thing in this world,” Amphitrite said.

And the longer they ate, the more her fork found their plates as well.

She had come to a decision.

Wine was a dangerous, dangerous drink.

Not because it muddled her senses—they were fine. Not because of loose lips—she kept biting her tongue. But because it made her stare—and for that, she would never forgive it. Together they conversed, caught up in a private matter as she had fallen silent. He tan, broad, raven curls. She lithe, sharp, red. Poseidon had his cuffs rolled up. Amphitrite, the fabric of her neckline, plunged deep down. They smiled back and forth amid small quips, unaware of the madness they drove her towards. The two gods, finally at ease, looking every bit a couple, were radiant.

Radiant. He had called her radiant.

Poseidon took Sally’s hand across the table as if sensing himself in her thoughts.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she sighed.

“I hope we did not cause you too much stress.”

“No, this was perfect,” a pulse passed between their palms. “It was perfect.” She glanced towards Amphitrite and found the same hard stare pinpointed at their hands. Her heart dropped down the staircase in the middle of the room, porcelain against marble, each clink clink clink echoing in her eardrums. She blinked away the brilliance, “I need some air.”

Amphitrite snapped out of it, “Come, I’ll go with you.” She gestured with her head towards the waiter approaching, which Poseidon caught and nodded in reply, a practiced set that reminded her quite vividly that they were husband and wife.

The goddess’ hand in hers was firm as they left, but it was simple to guide a doe if it was fool enough to believe you.

The frigid air tickled at her skin and she shivered, thoughts sinking into mindless chatter to hide from the cold, shocked when a coat found its way over her shoulders. Not her coat, not a new coat, Amphitrite’s coat.

“My coat,” Sally said.

“Don’t worry, he will bring it.”

Sally drew the fabric closer, running her fingers down its edges. It felt sleek, luxurious—something that was clearly not her own. She spoke suddenly, with fervor, “Will this work? I mean, are you actually okay with this?”

Amphitrite tilted her head, “Excuse me?”

“I saw you staring, earlier and just now. You look so, so angry when he touches me. There’s this burning in your eyes and it—do you hate me?” Sally bit her lip, not yet upset, simply filled with a vibrant adrenaline that kept her heeled feet numb.

Amphitrite slipped her hands inside the coat, around Sally’s waist, pulling them closer together. Her expression was gentle, almost embarrassed. The red of her hair glowed orange against the golden lights outside. “I do not hate you.”

Sally let out a sigh of relief.

“When I see you two, you have to understand, that was not hatred,” she lifted a hand to Sally’s cheek and slowly, traced the bottom lip with her thumb. “That was, I am—”

“Get on with the show, honey,” a gruff voice split through the moment.

At the end of the carpeted sidewalk, leaning against the pole of a decorative streetlight, stood a man with a cigarette in hand. He was clearly drunk. Rich, noisy, Wall Street.

Amphitrite fumed, a rushed breath escaping through her nose, and Sally slipped a hand around her wrist to distract her, possibly stop her.

But as life had proven before, timing was a bitch.

Poseidon joined them, walking much too confidently, stopping much too close, slipping a hand at the small of her back much too quickly to confuse the three of them for anything other than what they were.

The man laughed, “Oh shit, cheers to you, buddy. Living the dream.”

He understood fully the situation as she slipped her other hand along the collar of his coat. Sally felt very much like the owner of two Dobermans lying in wait for their prey.

“It’s one stupid human,” she tried nonchalantly.

“One too many,” Amphitrite countered.

“I meet douchebags every day and I never kill any of them.”

“Who said anything about kill?” Poseidon asked.

“How sinister,” Amphitrite said.

“Vindictive.”

“Downright evil.”

Sally made a point of looking unamused. Amphitrite pulled her away suddenly, farther from the man, and her nerves uncoiled only to spike again when she noticed Poseidon didn’t follow. Too soon did the goddess whisk her ‘round the corner, slipping into the shadows, away from roaming eyes, where she could not meekly protest.

For truly, it was deserved.

Over the centuries, sparse were the tales of sightings of the sea god, because most often, any sailor to witness him seldom survived.

But a small handful knew his real face.

He stepped closer to the human, silent despite the man’s conversation. And with each step, he seemed larger, stronger, more menacing, watching as the conversing died away to nothingness. The man tried for humor, only to lose all nerve and wait as the tense moment inched by, nothing but inches between them.

He could sense the fear of ten men all packed into one. It would satisfy her to keep it alive and so he retreated.

And in that retreat, the man threw out an insult.

The next moment, the human fell to its knees, pulling strings of seaweed straight from its mouth, choking up half the sea with it.

One more body fell into the pile.

They ran halfway down the block before stopping short.

“I’m used to tennis shoes,” Sally said and went to ramble until she caught Amphitrite’s gaze, who looked at her with bright eyes. Truly bright, glowing bright. Looking mesmerized and completely unaware, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. As if her husband wasn’t torturing a random human. “What is it—”

Amphitrite took Sally’s face like she had before and kissed her.

An urgent kiss that had her spinning. A quick kiss that turned into kisses. She gripped at the goddess’ blouse for dear life and hoped she wasn’t ruining it. It was a first kiss, one with meaning.

And when they pulled apart, Amphitrite appeared sated. “Jealous,” she said. “That was jealousy.”

“But I’m right here.”

“Don’t ask gods to explain themselves,” Amphitrite said and their laughter intermingled. “You two are so familiar with one another—”

“Well, I would hope so—”

“—and I want to be familiar with you.”

“I thought we already were.”

The goddess tilted her head as if to say but not like that or not enough. Even further, though, Sally realized between the explaining and admittance and pure intention there lay wanting. Desire.

The air was finally clear, it felt, at least, to her. All worries gone, confusion dispersed. She held a secretive smile, one that had Amphitrite opening her mouth, only to be stopped as Sally brought their lips together again.

A bit more forceful this time, enough for them to stumble, closer to the wall, where the cool stone held her steady. The kisses came smooth, like a river, one blending into the next, no end in sight. Hands traced her bodice, free from pretense, eager to please. She welcomed it, returned it.

The breakaway was instantaneous as a presence arrived, too close to be unaware of.

Poseidon stood a few paces back, both shocked and reserved, somehow. Somehow. In his eyes. It always came back to the eyes.

Amphitrite pulled away.

Sally was left alone, silent against the wall. She watched them play their staring game, but this one held no anger. They stood awkwardly, if a god could do that at all, looking scared, stressed. As if a debate was taking place, discussing the responsibilities and consequences of godly affairs. The nerve-wracking prospect of mingling with mortal beings. The natural way of gods and the livelihoods that were affected because of that.

That was exactly what was happening, she realized. Sally could not muster the reason as to why now, but she knew she was hurtling close to the possibility of losing one of them. Or both.

“I’m cold,” her voice pierced through the tension and snapped them back to reality. Her reality. Poseidon glanced towards her and extended his arm out. The coat hung there, an offering. She pushed off the wall, listened to the echoing click of her heels as she walked toward him, and took it from his palm. Then, without pause, before another beat of silence could pass, she placed herself against his instep, crowded close enough to fall off balance, and kissed him.

A kiss practiced and well-versed, gentle in her palms as they held his jaw, sure in his hands as they kept her steady. A kiss traveling down a path she had been many times before. She halted it a moment too soon, and turned without pulling away.

Amphitrite caught her eye and joined them, looking almost mesmerized. That couldn’t be though, she couldn’t mesmerize a goddess.

But she had mesmerized a god. Many times. Even now. So why not?

Sally blushed harsh between them, cradled by their presence, bracketed by their arms, borrowed coat heavy on her shoulders. Borrowed coat. She ducked her head.

“Warm now?” he asked.

“Shut up,” she said. The pair laughed and that laughter encircled her and she fell to ease. Whatever the moment could have been was gone. They stayed. They were hers.

“Where to now?” Amphitrite asked.

“I’m tired.” Her lie lingered amongst them.

“Well,” he shrugged, “To bed then I guess.”

Sally cleared her throat and nodded, “That would probably be best.”

Amphitrite gave a long, languid hum, “Oh, you two are ridiculous,” then pulled Poseidon by his lapel right over her shoulder. The sight of them kissing burned into her corneas as the earth gave way beneath her and they dispersed into a flurry of sea mist.

#my fics #sally jackson #pjo #should i post this to ao3? or like is it pointless #i mean i started this to get rid of writer's block #and this has sat in my drafts for months so. . .hm

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