#it’d feel like a slap in the face if they decided to be involved again

[1tad0ri]

(u can say no if u no like but-) giving itadori yuuji a blowjob in the bathroom stall cuz he was feeling horny and was being handsy with reader (this is before being involved in jujutsu) thank you so much!!

warning: public sex, blowjob (even tho this is before the jujutsu stuff, they’re still 18+ so pretend the jjk school is a college or smth <3)

itadori yuuji x fem!reader

how can i NOT like this

“that was embarrassing.”

“seriously? i thought it was pretty hot.” yuuji was trailing wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck, one hand shoved up your shirt to squeeze your tits while his other hand kneaded your ass.

you rolled your eyes, arms looped comfortably over his shoulders. “yeah, it was hot, but you weren’t exactly subtle, babe.”

“no one even noticed!” he leaned back to look at you, indignant, and you took in his swollen lips and the shimmer of your lip gloss along his jaw. he was so cute. you leaned up to peck his lips, finding them soft, thinking about how he was so sweet (even in spite of him groping you like this).

“yeah, i’m sure the prof didn’t notice you trying to finger fuck me in the third row of the lecture hall.”

“yeah, he didn’t.” when yuuji grinned unironically, you resisted the urge to slap him, instead pushing him back and against the opposite wall of the bathroom stall. you sunk to your knees and set about unbuckling his jeans while he automatically rested a hand atop your head.

“you look hot like that.”

you rolled your eyes, freeing his cock from his boxers and pumping the length, smearing the leaking precum along the head. “you always say that.”

“and it’s always true.” his hand slipped down to brush against your cheek. “you’re always beautiful, babe.”

you rolled your eyes again, but still turned your head to kiss his fingers in thanks, letting your tongue loll out when he pressed against your bottom lip. yuuji slipped his fingers into your mouth and you sucked on them, tongue running all over as you stared up at him.

“holy fuck.” he shoved them further in and you greedily coated them in your saliva, maintaining eye contact with him. “babe, please let me fuck you right now.”

you let the fingers slip out of your mouth, spit dribbling down and you wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. “nope!” your chipper reply had his face falling and he pouted. it was so hard to resist that look. “you act like you don’t want your dick sucked, yuuji.” pumping the length, you landed a tentative lick to the head, making him shiver.

“i just want you to feel good too, baby.”

fuck. there was a reason he always left your legs shaking—yuuji was an unselfish lover, always eager to please, whether it be you wanting to sit on his face or his dick, he let you do whatever you wanted. there was something else you wanted to do right now though. instead of saying anything else, you leaned forward to wrap your mouth around his cock, pushing it in as far as it could go, hands wrapped around what couldn’t fit.

“fuuuck.” his grip on your head tightened as he threw his own back, the stall wall shaking as his head slammed against it.

you popped his dick out of your mouth, saliva coating the surface of it, shiny under the grainy bathroom lights. “yuuji, baby, you have to be quiet.” after class, he had pulled you into the closest bathroom to the lecture hall—not exactly subtle but it’d do. thankfully, the room had been empty, even with the mass of students milling around just outside in the hallway.

“right, right, sorry.” yuuji’s sheepish grin was a heavy contrast to the current situation and you once again wondered how he had so much duality. “feels good. i’ll be quiet—i promise. pinky promise.” he held out his hand—oh my god, he was actually serious—and you looped your pinky around his just to humor him—this bet would be over before it even started.

hand squeezing around the base of his cock, you raised an eyebrow at the strangled groan that bubbled out of him. “mmm, yes, very quiet, yuuji,” you mocked him, giggling, and set about pumping his length again. the slick coating it let your hand slide easily over the skin. “if we get caught i’m blaming you.”

“you can do whatever you want.” yuuji watched you with lust-darkened eyes, humming under your touch, and you felt a light push on the back of your head. “come on, baby girl, going to take me all, right? you’re torturing me here.”

“dramatic,” you mumbled under your breath, but still sucked the salty tip onto your tongue. you could tell he was trying his best to control his breathing and you decided to take pity on him, pulling it out of your mouth again. before he could complain, you began leaving soft kisses down the sides of the flushed skin, enjoying the way his thighs shook and how his eyes kept squeezing close in pleasure despite him fighting to keep them open and watch you—you’d work him up to his high, carefully, slowly, letting him keep his voice low.

“shit,” he whispered, back of his hand pressing against his mouth when you set back pushing his cock down your throat, stopping halfway to let him adjust to the warm heat. your hands worked on the lower half, messy and wet from your spit. “fuck, yes. just like that, baby girl. can i move?”

you gave a slight nod of your head—well, as much as you could with your mouth filled like this—and an affirmative bat of your lashes. you knew he liked when you looked pretty just for him. with that, you felt both of his hands on the back of your head now and you let him cant his hips forward, forcing you to swallow more and more of him. your hands fell away from his cock to grip his thighs, hollowing your cheeks and opening up your throat to let him slide in easily.

“you’re doing so good. just a little more for me, okay? shit... yes, keep going. you’re so good, babe.”

by the time your nose hit his pelvis, you were taking shallow breaths, trying to wipe off the drool that threatened to drip from your lips around his cock, and doing your best not to gag as he filled your mouth so wholly. yuuji was drawing circles on your cheek with his thumb, mumbling praises, and you could tell he was trying not to cum right then and there.

“that’s my baby. your mouth feels so warm. god and your fucking lips. so messy... i love you, you know that? mmm... bet your pussy feels even better.” everything he was saying was going straight to your core and you could feel the building arousal between your legs, cunt throbbing. you squeezed your thighs together to satiate it for now (he’d take care of you soon).

as soon as the weight holding you down released, you pulled off of his cock with a gasp, the back of one hand shooting up to wipe off the fluids that were dripping down your chin and your other hand setting a steady pace sliding up and down his dick once again. spurred on by his earlier words, you set back kissing and sucking along his dick, hands and mouth working in tandem. yuuji was cursing and moaning under his breath, biting at his fist to keep himself from yelling out. he set a steady rhythm where he would tilt his hips forward to meet your mouth when you would sink down—it made you gag but the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat was perfection.

his breathing grew labored the longer you worked, hand splayed against the stall wall behind him to keep himself steady. “fuck... gonna cum. swallow it for me, baby? don’t wanna get you messy—your little outfit looked so cute today.”

knowing he was close made you quicken the bob of your head, slurping and licking along the shaft. “mhm. yuuji, wanna taste you.” you kissed the tip. “on my tongue?”

“anything you want, princess.”

you let him push and pull your head along his cock as he reached his high, his face contorting into pleasure—you could see his muscles straining under his thin shirt, biceps flexing as he held onto you, and neck pulled tight as he tried to bite back his moans. it wasn’t long until yuuji was spilling into your throat and you dutifully waited until he was done, doing your best to swallow around his cock, and then lapping up any of the excess—you showed him your tongue full of white as a cheeky reward, biting your lip and grinning when he took in a sharp breath.

“that’s my baby girl.”

[ultralovedeluxe]

Hey I love your work! Would you mind doing Rohan with prompts 41 and 43 whenever you can? And maybe nsfw if your comfortable? 👉🏼👈🏼

Have a good day/evening!

Oml I love YOU so much! I'm a big fan of your work so I was nervous when writing this (it's very rushed oml), I hope you enjoy though!

Yandere! Rohan Kishibe with prompts #41 and #43

'I'm all you have left now'

'They didn't know you belonged to me so I had to get rid of them!'

Warnings: yandere behaviors, cheating accusations, manipulation, slut-shaming, inappropriate use of stands, non/dub con, blow-jobs, nsfw

Dating the famous mangaka Kishibe Rohan would be an honor to most people. He's a man of power and fame, who wouldn't want to be with him? The moms who hang out at the park always tell you that you should feel like the luckiest person in the world. They'd tell you that a million girls would kill to be in your shoes.

Although you love Rohan with all your heart (and you should feel deserving of his love), you sometimes start to wonder if dating the great Kishibe Rohan is worth it.

You met Rohan at an art exhibit in France. You had been a model for several pieces in that said exhibit, so obviously you had to come along for the event. Meeting Rohan was a love at first sight. He had asked if you would want to model for him sometime, and you had agreed. Soon after one visit and project, came after another, and then another, until you were working mainly with the mangaka. You can't say you didn't like it though, you enjoyed being in Rohan's presence. He was chivalrous when he wanted to be, and you found his sarcastic nature be quite humorous in fact. You spent so much time with Rohan in fact, you would have considered him a friend. Your relationship with the mangaka was no longer just work related, the both of you had become good friends.

However, the real problem in your friendship with Rohan began to show when your parents were involved. Your parents tolerated Rohan (or at least you thought they did), but they were getting annoyed with the fact the mangaka kept hogging your time. You should be modeling with professional photographers, or modeling for famous designers. But instead you're being used as reference from some manga artist in Japan.

You understood your parent's point of view in the subject, but you enjoyed working with Rohan more than you did any other project you had worked on. You continued to visit Rohan, despite your parent's protests (and Rohan couldn't have been happier).

The more visits that happened, the closer you got to the mangaka. It wasn't long before Rohan had asked you on a date. Eventually multiple dates leaded to the both of you starting a relationship. You knew your parents would hate Rohan even more now, but he didn't seem to mind. He'd always tell you that he didn't care what your parents thought about him, he was content with having you as a partner. Even if your parents did find out about your secret relationship, you highly doubt they would react dramatically. Sure, they'd really, really dislike it, but they wouldn't disown you for it. After all you were a grown adult, you should be able to make your own decisions right?

At least that's what you thought. One day, Rohan made an unexpected visit on your front door step. You didn't expect for him to be there, nor did you know how he got your address (considering the fact you lived in a completely different continent), but you didn't think much of it since you thought this could be your chance to properly introduce Rohan to your parents.

The introduction went by smoothly, Rohan was getting along with your parents, and your parents seemed to accept that Rohan was your partner. However, it did seem a bit suspicious that your parent's dislike of Rohan turned into an approval almost in a span of a few minutes. They had even agreed to let you move out with Rohan. While you could admit that you and Rohan had been planning to live in Morioh-Cho together, you didn't think it'd happen instantly. And that your parents would agree nonetheless. Regardless, you and Rohan accepted your parent's blessing's and left France.

You vividly remembered on your plane flight to Morioh-Cho, Rohan had whispered in your ear while stroking your hair softly, "You must be lucky to have me right [first]? I'm all you have left now.."

-

Life in Morioh-Cho was sweet to say the least. It was a drastic change from living in a fashion capital of the world, to a small quiet place where there was much to do. Nevertheless, you truly enjoyed your new life, it was better than going to photoshoots every week. Speaking of which, you never do photoshoots anymore. Rohan convinced you to quit your job as a model (since he is wealthy enough to provide for the both of you anyway), and you had agreed. Though, every time you mentioned getting a job to Rohan, he'd simply call you an idiot for wanting to work. He'd ask you if he needed step up his game for you, and you'd only close your mouth in the conversation.

Your relationship with Rohan was a drastic change too. From what was sweet, humble dates every weekend, went to being locked in a home for what was everyday. Rohan would spend hours in his art studio, drawing multiple pages for his manga. He'd tell you to not go out while he was working. But even then, that's most of the time.

You'd be lying if you didn't find this type of behavior weird.

-

"I'm leaving to go visit Italy for a couple of days [first]. Do you remember the rules?"

You nodded and kissed Rohan's cheek before handing him his suitcase. "Don't go outside unless we run out of groceries, don't let people inside-" Rohan cut you off "Especially those idiots Josuke and Okuyasu" he said scoffing at his distaste for the boys. You only sighed in response, "Especially Josuke and Okuyasu. Hope you have a good trip love" you smiled holding his hands close to your chest. Rohan kissed your lips softly and mumbled a quick 'goodbye' before leaving your shared home. You sighed and walked into the kitchen, before sitting down on a chair. You respected his rules, and you didn't want to lie to him, but you were bored out of your mind. You wanted to go out and have fun. Not to mention, although you know that Rohan could buy you whatever you wanted; but you wanted to have some money of your own. You can't rely on Rohan forever. You had decided that tomorrow you'd start looking for a job (any job, part-time even, you just wanted some type of job to keep you entertained for a while). Rohan would get mad sure, but you promised you'd discuss when he'd come back. You were sure he'd support you

You were sure of it.

-

Looking for a job was harder than you thought. It seemed that nobody wanted to hire somebody who only had 'model' on their resume. Sometimes you'd wish you had taken on other jobs other than modeling, maybe then people would hire you. Regardless, you kept looking, desperate to find a job somewhere.

In the end, you ended up finding an Italian restaurant after hours of searching. You stepped in and was greeted a tall, blonde Italian man. "Hello good afternoon my name is Tonio, welcome to my restuarant" he greeted you while smiling at you sweetly. You smiled awkwardly and muttered a quick 'thank you', "Um Tonio san, I'm not here to eat..but I'd like to ask you if you are hiring. I can't cook, but I can be a waitress!-" you exclaimed, leaving Tonio in a small shock. He looked at you up and down before smiling at you once again, "Well I don't usually hire people since I'm doing good on my own, but I guess a little help wouldn't hurt.." he told you. You smiled back and hugged him, "Oh thank you so much! You don't know how much I struggled finding a job today-" you let him go, "Uhm, sorry.." you mumbled. He chuckled and led you to a table.

The two of you talked a bit for a while, you told hima bout your modeling career and your relationships, while he told you about his journey to Japan and Italian cuisine. You both shared laughs and stories together, you had a good time. Your time with Tonio became even better when he officially had hired you as a waitress! You were happy, and you couldn't wait to tell Rohan when he got home!

"Well I'll see you next week Tonio!" you shouted as you left the door, carrying the bouquet of daisies Tonio had gifted you. Tonio smiled, "I'll see you then bambina!".

-

You arrive a little later than planned (guess you spent too much time talking to Tonio), but you finally made it home safe and sound. You might as well start cleaning, since you weren't going to sleep any time soon. As you opened the door, you were met face to face with Rohan. You dropped your daises on the floor, and began to think of all the apologies and excuses you could think of. But it was no use, excuses would only make Rohan's anger boil even more.

Why was he even here in the first place? Wasn't he supposed to be in Italy by now?!

"Rohan I-"

"Save it, I don't want to hear a word from you" Rohan growled angrily before walking towards you. He had pulled out a pen and you felt as if you passed out.

Rohan had used Heaven's Door to read the pages of your life. He looked for the information of today, and when he did, he was fuming. He read his newly learned information out loud, gripping onto your hair in the process, "This man named Tonio is so handsome, and he cooks too.. I feel like this skirt is a bit risqué, but oh well.." with that last sentence Rohan had the last straw. He removed his stand's effect on you, but not before writing a few things.

Once the effects of Heaven's Door were gone, you began to feel a heat between your legs. Noticing you were on your knees, you crawled your way to Rohan, "Rohann, feel so hot need you.." you mewled out. Rohan was furious with your previous behavior, but maybe this would help you learn a few things. "So you were tempted to cheat on me right? I bet you would’ve enjoyed if that Tonio flipped your skirt right?" he said slapping your face in the process. You whimpered, "No no no no, that's not true..please need you. Need you so bad" you were starting to tear up just by him insinuating you were going to cheat on him. Rohan looked down at you, gods you looked so pathetic, just like he wanted you to look like.

"Such a fucking slut" he said unbuckling his pants, eager to have your warm and needy mouth all around his cock. Once he finished doing that he looked at you dead in the eye, "Suck. Suck like the whore you are. Aren't you ashamed [first]? I bet you also sucked Tonio’s cock in that job interview right?” He said watching you as you sloppily sucked his cock. You probably aren’t even thinking right now, your just hungry for his cock right? Such a little slut. “And to think your parents didn’t like me. They just didn’t know you belonged to me. But that’s fine I had to get rid of them regardless..” he chuckled before he bucked his hips into your mouth repeatedly.

Rohan grabs you by the hair and begins to push your head down his member, sinking your mouth down to his pubes; much to your displeasure. At the moment however he didn’t care what you felt, sluts like you don’t mind right? He continued to do so for a few more seconds before he came in your mouth, groaning loudly. He came inside your mouth, and there was so much of it you couldn’t help but to cough some out.

You laid your head on his lap and breathed out softly, before Rohan lifted your chin up and grinned,

“Who said we were done?”

-

Dating the great Kishibe Rohan would be an honor to most people. Who wouldn’t want to be by his side. Unfortunately for you, dating Kishibe Rohan was not a glitter and sparkles.

Being Kishibe Rohan’s personal cum dump isn’t much better either.

[aminiatureworld]

Distance II

Characters: Ningguang, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,605

Warnings: None

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: Though Ningguang is hands down one of my favorite characters I find her surprisingly difficult to write. She just seems so much more in control than I am. Perhaps though that makes writing her in conflict all the more rewarding.

Ningguang

Sometimes Ningguang wondered if she wasn’t accidentally proving her detractors right by not caring.

Being the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing it’d be nearly impossible for her not to hear the rumors that circulated about her, the not-so-quiet whisperings of people who found her too cold, too callous, too closed off to have any genuine feelings. Nor were such incidents limited to the murmurings of coworkers or the blunt admissions of Keqing. Ningguang had long ago lost track of the times she’d passed someone on the street, only to find someone proclaiming how unfit she was to represent Liyue, she who had no genuine feelings.

Of course, Ningguang couldn’t truly complain. Even if people saw her as aloof and shallow, she was still given the respect due to her position. Nor could the privilege and power of being the Tianquan be overstated. Really, being isolated in such a way was just the price she had to pay for her success. What did it really matter what the general population thought of her personally as long as they respected her competency? Besides, she didn’t have time for close interpersonal relationships.

Perhaps it was this thinking that had ruled her for so long that made you so special in her eyes. Though you would later admit that you had worried your feelings had been one-sided, Ningguang had been just as captivated with you as you of her. Incredibly competent at your job, as devoted to Liyue as Ningguang was, and deeply empathetic on top of it, how could Ningguang not grow somewhat infatuated with you? She had never expected the same emotion on your side, just as you had never expected such a thing of her; not because you saw Ningguang as made of ice or stone, it was merely the natural nervousness that always came with love. Perhaps that was the part of your confession that Ningguang appreciated the most. To you she was just as normal as anyone else, with a heart made out of the same flesh as all the other residents of Liyue.

Yet being in a relationship had proved a much greater challenge than Ningguang expected, and in the place one was least likely to think about. Her love for you was never in question, the devotion you two shared towards one another was something spelled out plainly in front of her eyes. Nor did she worry about providing for you, or you for her. Being both high ranking members of the Liyue Qixing, the two of you were incredibly lucky, and finances and worries about saving was never something that Ningguang had to lose sleep over. No, it was none of those normal things that Ningguang had to worry about, instead it was herself.

She had expected that all the whisperings about her emotional capabilities would have left once the word of you two being partners got around. Instead the whispers seemed all the greater, swirling around her at every turn. Though logically that could not be the case, Ningguang found that logic ultimately played a very little role in the matter of love and affection. Even when she wasn’t haunted by the whispers of others she found herself more and more facing her own words. How could someone so closed off and reserved be a good partner, her mind seemed to whisper, how could she possibly give you the affection and warmth you deserved? Ningguang never told you these thoughts of course, her anxiety seizing her whenever the idea so much as passed through her head. Still those thoughts lingered.

And then work got busier; well, busier for her at least. For you things seemed to remain about the same, and though Ningguang was somewhat grateful for that – knowing that overworking oneself was a bit of a theme for members of the Liyue Qixing – she still found herself uncomfortable at the new schedule. Now instead of the two of your finishing up at around the same time, it seemed like you always had to hold back and wait for her. It was embarrassing, really; more than that it felt unfair to you.

“Should I reschedule the dinner reservations tonight?” Your question hung over the desk that separated the two of you, paper piled up like a wall between you and her.

“I’m afraid so, I’m sorry darling.” Ningguang offered an awkward smile.

“Don’t be sorry! It’s not your fault that you have so much work. I’ll go down and tell the waitress during lunch break, we should be able to get a refund, and maybe a reschedule. After all, we haven’t been out together in so long.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you leaned over the desk, too blocked by the papers to give her the traditional comfort kiss on her cheek, “you have a very important job, and no one could fault you for it.”

Despite your words Ningguang couldn’t help but feel somewhat chastised. Bowing her head she whispered a soft “thank you”, wondering how much you were hiding your true feelings. Keeping her head mostly down at her work for the rest of the morning the Tianquan was startled by the realization she hadn’t noticed you leaving for lunch.

“Unfortunately I was unable to get a refund,” your apologetic voice floated through the air as you reentered the office, “so I was wondering whether or not I could bring a friend out to dinner tonight? Of course I would pay for the whole thing myself, and we could still reschedule. Although maybe next time let’s pick a restaurant without an all-or-nothing view on payment.”

“A good idea about the payments,” Ningguang smiled awkwardly, ill at ease despite your slight laughter, “and of course you may invite a friend out for dinner. I know that we’ll find another time.”

“You’re an absolute darling you know!” You walked around the desk giving Ningguang a fleeting kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

“How could I not be when I’m the reason we can’t go out this evening?”

“Well, I don’t know. Some people aren’t so nice about those things you know.”

“I hope to never be involved with those people.”

“You’re right about that!” You laughed, bringing a small smile to Ningguang’s face. Still, a part of her felt leaden, her embarrassment and guilt weighing her down like a rock.

Afterwards it seemed that a bit of a routine had been found in your life. After your work was done and your errands finished you laughed awkwardly, gave Ningguang a short kiss, and went out to spend time with your friends. Not that Ningguang begrudged you the time you spent with others, she wasn’t about to ask you to spend all your time with her, especially when most of it would be spent staring at her reading. Still it was hard not to see these continual outings as further proof of how little affection Ningguang was giving you, how much she was failing at providing you all the love and emotional support you needed.

Walking down the streets to your house Ningguang took in the sight of Liyue in the evening. It was her favorite time of day; the lanterns turned the normally drab grey stones into burnisheds amber, basking the buildings with a soft orange glow that gave the illusion of perfect domesticity. It was easy to forget the troubles of Liyue in the evening, easy to be wrapped up in the landscape in front of the Tianquan, easy to ignore her troubles. Passing by the docks Ningguang breathed in the scent of a trading city at work. Smells, sights, and conversations mixed together in a familiar dance, lively despite the lateness of the hour.

“Did you see the Tianquan’s partner was out again this evening?”

Ningguang found herself standing perfectly still, unsure if the words that she had just heard weren’t a figment of her exhausted imagination. Turning towards the stalls she was careful to keep her pace as even as possible, hoping that her presence would go largely unnoticed.

“Oh yes, I saw them walking along the shipyard with a few people. You could tell it wasn’t on business.”

“I feel bad for them,” the first voice piped up again, voice heavy with authority, “to have a block of ice as a partner, it must be very difficult.”

“You’re right, the poor dear. Honestly I don’t know why they decided to become partners with such a person as Lady Ningguang, I heard that she was the one confessed to even. Why anyone would actively cultivate such a relationship, I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I. They must be very used to living without affection.”

“You’re probably right, it always ends up that way with those types of relationships.”

Although the conversation showed no signs of ending Ningguang found herself turning around and leaving. The words had felt like a slap in the face, and she felt almost feverish in her wish for the conversation to have never happened.

Once she arrived at your home Ningguang rushed to the bedroom, collapsing onto the soft sheets. You, she realized that she wanted you; wanted to tell you what had just happened, wanted you to assure her it was all false, wanted all this insecurity to go away. And yet, how could she be sure that you weren’t thinking a similar thing as those people Ningguang had overheard? How could she be sure you hadn’t come to the conclusion that she was indeed without feeling. There was only one way to figure it out really, no matter how painful.

“I’m home!” Your voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to Ningguang’s current emotional state.

“Welcome home dear.”

“Oh I’m exhausted, I think I’m taking a bath and going right to bed tonight! You should probably sleep too, you’ve really been overworking yourself!” You chastised, giving Ningguang an impatient sort of smile as you put away your things. Taking a deep breath Ningguang prepared herself.

“Before you do that, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

“Ask away! Unless you’re asking for me to cook, I think I’m too tired for that.”

“It’s not about cooking. It’s, well, it’s whether this relationship is fulfilling or not to you.”

“What?” The happiness leeched from your voice as you stared at Ningguang.

“I heard some people talking today, saying that I wasn’t a worthy partner, that I was too emotionally detached. I know that you have never expressed such an opinion, but I cannot help but wonder if I’m truly giving you what people want in a relationship. You said yourself that we hardly spend time together anymore, and I know how much you value quality time. As such, I feel that I have to lay out all your options. If you feel that this relationship is no longer viable, then I understand.”

“Ningguang what in Teyvat are you talking about?” You burst out. Swiftly closing the distance between you two, you intertwined your fingers with Ningguang’s. “You don’t really think that I would share the opinion of some people who know nothing about you and us do you?”

“It’s not just them!” Ningguang pointed out. “I’ve heard the same things from colleagues. Besides this wasn’t brought on all of a sudden. For a while now I’ve been wondering if I truly have the capacity to make you happy.”

“Well let me clear that up immediately, the answer is yes.”

You stared into Ningguang’s eyes, expression one of stubborn surety. There was no sense of doubt in your posture or your voice. For the first time in a while Ningguang found herself somewhat calm.

“Let me tell you something Ningguang, relationships aren’t the same for everyone, nor is love. Some people need huge declarations of love, need to always be attached to their partner, need a constant supply of affection. And some need only small gestures, shorter periods of time, a softer form of support. Neither of these are inherently better than the other. Just because we don’t go out to eat every night, just because you place care and effort into your work and choose to spend your time on it, that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you any less, or that your love doesn’t reach me. I’m proud of your work, I’m proud to call my partner the Tianquan; and if other people cannot understand or accept that, then frankly I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” You let out a laugh, throwing your arms around your partner. “My mind is very made up on this. Besides, you’re much more affectionate than you let on.”

It was as if she’d been suddenly freed from a cage, so immediate was the relief that washed over Ningguang. Returning the embrace she sighed softly, overwhelmed by the love and confidence in your words.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me for anything, you would do the exact same for me.”

“Perhaps you’re right, but thank you nevertheless. Thank you.”

“Well then you’re welcome; though I would do anything for the woman I love.”

“I love you too.”

There was nothing more to say.

 Zhongli

“I hope that it ends soon.”

Those words had sent Zhongli spiraling, reeling as the ground crumbled beneath him and he plunged into some dark unknown. How had he gotten here, it didn’t seem to make sense.

He hadn’t wanted to step upon your freedom, to limit you in any way. Though Zhongli wasn’t perhaps the greatest expert on human feelings, he knew that in one way they differed greatly from archons and adepti. Humans always vied for freedom. The freedom to choose, the freedom to do, the freedom to go or stay. While the gods always found any sort of profound change incredibly difficult, an erosion on their power and their influence, humans craved the ways that time waxed and waned, the world with it.

As such he didn’t attempt to put any sort of confinement on your relationship. Being the first human Zhongli had had any meaningful emotional contact with, he was absolutely determined that your relationship should be framed around your needs, which were certainly more demanding as a human being than Zhongli’s could ever be. Not that he ever found himself lacking, indeed it seemed sometimes to the ex-archon as if you were more aware of what his wishes were than he was of yours. When he needed assurance you were there, when something required some sort of explanation or reiteration you were glad to provide it. No matter the time or the place or the setting you were liberal with your love. Zhongli could only hope he provided the same for you.

Perhaps that was why your words surprised him so much. Zhongli knew that your friend was coming over for tea, and had made an effort to leave the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor earlier than usual, much to the annoyance of his pseudo-employer. Though he expect you to be earlier than him, he certainly hadn’t expected your sudden volte-face, the sudden revelation that all was not well.

Not that he could ask about your statement while your friend was visiting, the ex-archon knew that you hated a scene as much as he did, and he doubted he’d be able to get an honest answer out of you with an audience watching. So as he entered, making sure to make as much noise as possible to alert you of his arrival, he tried to bury the sentence in the back of his mind, hoping that it would stay put as long as possible.

Thankfully for Zhongli it is much easier to be patient when one is an immortal former deity. Though time certainly seemed slower than usual, the conversation you and your friend had more difficult to follow than usual, it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. Letting you and your friend chat about anything from work to pets to weather, only interrupting when asked about the tea, Zhongli spent the afternoon turning over your words in his head, and wondering what he was going to say.

Finally the sun dipped behind the buildings, and as the long shadows of evening began to cast themselves down your friend left. Keeping himself as formal as possible during the entire encounter Zhongli let out a soft sigh when the door closed behind them. Even if what was to come was not something he was particularly looking forward to, Zhongli had long ago learned that immediate pain is better than drawn out suffering.

“You were awfully quiet this afternoon.” You pointed out, going to clear up the plates.

“I, I had not noticed. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine, I know that they’re a bit of a talker anyways. Still I was hoping you might say more, my friends already ask me about your reticence, and I don’t want to feed their imaginations.”

“My apologies, I will try to do better.”

“Don’t sweat it really, I’m just rambling.” You smiled as Zhongli began to put away the tea set. “I always love watching you clean the china, it’s so peaceful to watch.”

“I am glad you enjoy it so much,” Zhongli replied, careful to keep his hands from trembling. The conversation loomed ahead of him, dark and unfamiliar, and he didn’t want to break anything in the process. “I, uh, I noticed that you were discussing something when I walked in.”

“I’m sorry we started before you, I didn’t know how long Hu Tao would hold you up. She’s surprisingly persuasive, at least when she’s not selling coffins.” You let out a giggle.

“In light of your conversation, I would like to offer you something.”

“Yes?” You furrowed your brow, evidently puzzled.

“I would like to offer you an end to our relationship.”

“Excuse me?” Your mouth dropped open as you jolted up suddenly in your chair. “What, why? I… what?”

“I do not wish to cause you any pain by forcing you to draw this out. If you wish for things to end quickly, then you ought not to worry about stalling. I promise that I will not contain you.”

“Zhongli, I don’t understand what you’re saying?” Your voice sounded very raw. “Are you saying, are you saying that you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore.”

“No.” Zhongli replied slowly, feeling as if the situation had altogether managed to reverse itself. “I am only saying that if I am tying you down, that if I am no longer making you happy, then you do not have to continue this relationship.”

“Zhongli, I don’t understand why you would ever think that I would want that.”

“But you said ‘I hope that it ends soon’.”

For a moment you stared at your partner, but then something seemed to overtake you and you began to laugh, an awkward sound stranded between relief and humor.

“A commission I was talking about a commission! There’s this tradesman who is trying to set up some sort of security measures with the Guild while he’s stopped in Liyue, and it’s taking up most of my time. It’s why I haven’t visited you at the Funeral Parlor recently as well. Believe me Zhongli, I would never want to break up with you, the idea of doing so makes me miserable.”

“Ah, I see.”

Zhongli wasn’t sure whether he should feel overwhelming relief or embarrassment. That question was put off however as you walked over to where he was sitting and threw your arms around him. Returning the embrace Zhongli pressed soft kisses all over your face. Relief washed over him, and he felt almost dizzy with relief. Though he had tried to tell himself that he wouldn’t let his own emotions rob you of your agency, now that the moment had passed the ex-archon could admit how truly shaken he was, and how much the idea of his days spend utterly devoid of your presence seemed unbearably lonely.

“I still don’t know how you ever jumped to such a conclusion.” You mumbled, leaning over to press a soft kiss on Zhongli’s lips.

The rest of the evening had been spent in a revery of frantic relief, both of you unwilling to stray very far from each other’s arms. Now the two of you lay tangled in bed together, overlapping limbs a solid reminder that all was well with the world.

“I do not want to rob you of your agency,” Zhongli replied, “I fear that I will tie you down. I know that the gods are old and staid, and unlikely to change. I know as well that humans often find such atmospheres stifling, and I fear that one day such a thing will come to pass.”

“Just because humans change their minds easily or want to travel or grow or whatever doesn’t mean that they don’t need an anchor,” you pointed out, voice heavy with fatigue, “we all need somewhere to go back to, we all need a home. You’re my home Zhongli, I never want to leave you.”

“You are my home as well. And I wish not to leave you either.”

“I’m glad the matter is settled then.” You smiled softly, before finally closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

“As am I.”

Zhongli lay awake a while, listening to the soft cadence of your breath. You had said it was humans that needed an anchor, but perhaps immortal beings did too. After all, you were the thing that kept Zhongli tethered to the world and the humans around him, and he loved you all the more for it.

[sapiowoman28]

I can, I can't: Part 2.5 of 3 (haha)

Pairing: Jaemin x female reader

Genre: Friends to lovers au, fluff, smut

Warnings: some dom/sub elements. This chapter is more fluff.

I decided to write this "preview" to chapter 3 cos I was inspired.

Tags: @nctlover94 @m1ss-foodi3 @heyyyun

Life went back to normal. It was as if that evening didn't happen. Jaemin went back to being the best friend he always had been, and Y/N went back to well, being Y/N.

But she was frustrated. She wanted him badly. She wasn't even fucking Lucas any more. All she wanted was Jaemin.

One evening, unable to take it anymore, she went into his room, determined to lay out all her cards on the table with him. But he was gaming and didn't want to talk.

"If not now, then when?" she asked, exasperated.

"Soon." he said. "Be patient."

Yet again, a few days later, she tried to broach the subject. But they were interrupted by Jeno and Renjun coming home.

Finally, one Saturday morning, he came to her room.

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" he asked. She nodded, trying to look like she didn't care.

"Pizza?" she asked, assuming they'd go to their usual joint.

"No. Somewhere else." he said. "We're going on a date."

"Where?" she demanded to know. She hated surprises.

"You'll find out." he smiled mysteriously. She wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

She spent the whole day wondering what to wear. She tried on a few different outfits. But nothing seemed to work. The problem was, she had no clue where they were going. Finally she stormed over to Jaemin's room.

"If you don't tell me where we're going, how do i know what to wear?" she asked.

Jaemin let out a chuckle.

"Well, looks like I decide what you wear then." he said, grabbing her by the shoulders and walking them both to her room. Y/N sighed, opening up her closet doors.

Jaemin looked through a couple of items. Finally he pulled out a casual red dress.

"This looks nice, and comfy." he said.

She was impressed. Frankly, it was a good choice. Casual but not too casual, the material was comfortable and she looked good in it. in fact it was one of her favourite dresses.

"It's your favourite dress." he muttered. Y/N stiffened. He noticed.

"Where's your underwear drawer?" he asked.

"What?"

"Remember, I decide what you wear." he smirked.

Y/N wondered what she had gotten herself into, but she didn't dislike it. She opened up her drawer. He started looking through her bras, eventually choosing a black lacy one.

"This." he said. "Wear this."

"Fine." Y/N rolled her eyes. "What about my panties, what do you want me to wear?"

Jaemin let out a laugh.

"Nothing." he said. "No panties when you're out on a date with me."

"Are you crazy Na Jaemin? I'm not going to do that."

"Fine. We won't go out then." he shrugged.

Y/N folded her arms, biting her lips.

"Well?" he asked.

"Fine!" she said. "I hate you!"

"No you don't. You fucking love me." Jaemin grinned.

"Why are you doing this?" Y/N asked. "Why can't we just fuck like normal people?"

Jaemin moved closer to her, his nose almost bumping into hers.

"Because, there's nothing normal about you Y/N." he smiled. "In fact, I'd say you're extraordinary. And for that, you deserve to be treated extraordinarily."

"And that involves you controlling me?" she asked, flickng her finger against his forehead. He yelped.

She saw the irritation rise in his eyes.

"What now? You gonna spank me again?" she asked, smirking.

"See? This is why I know you're just dying to be controlled." he said. "You will pay for it tonight. Trust me."

"I can't wait, Na Jaemin."

He smirked. "Let's leave at 6. It's a long drive. We'll take my car."

Y/N was impressed. Jaemin had driven them out of town, to a lesser known area, up a hill, to watch the sunset. He had brought a mat with him and a basket with her favourite snacks and beers.

As the sun set, he took her in his arms, kissing her tenderly on her forehead and cheeks. They were slightly buzzy from the beer, and very giggly. Whatever it was, Jaemin the control freak dom was nowhere in sight.

"What took you so long to decide?" she asked.

"I was afraid." he admitted, cupping her face. "That it'd affect our friendship."

"We'll always be friends." she promised.

"But I want more." he said.

"Yeah, well, it's just sex, so what?" she asked.

"For goodness sake, Y/N!" he rolled his eyes. "Do i have to literally spell it out for you? I want you to be my girlfriend, not my fuck buddy. I've always fucking loved you, you idiot!"

Y/N froze. She wasn't expecting that. She did always think he would make a good boyfriend. But she never thought he would be interested in pursuing anything with her of all people. Not when he was so hot. And she was just... her.

"Why me?" she asked.

"Why not?" he was getting exasperated. "When are you ever going to see how precious you are?"

"Never." she said, sighing. "You can have any girl..."

"Y/N, I want you. You and nobody else. Can't you see?"

She burst into giggles. He smiled.

"I love the way you laugh." he said, kissing her lips. They felt warm, and she opened her mouth slightly, letting his tongue in. He leaned over her, and she layed down on her back, their kisses getting more passionate.

Suddenly he pulled away. "No," he said, bolting up.

"What?" her eyes grew huge, the feeling of annoyance overtaking her. She sat up too.

"You have not told me if you'd be my girlfriend." he pouted.

she softened.

"You never properly asked." she whispered.

"Y/N, I love you. Will you be my girl?" he asked, twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, Mr Na. I'll be your bratty girl." she grinned.

"I like that." he grinned, hugging her tightly.

"Great," she said. "Can we for goodness sake fuck now?"

[theonewiththefanfics]

Shy (one-shot)

Synopsys: She’s shy. He likes her. She likes him. But every time something gets between the ex-Winter Soldier and the cute lab rat that works with Stark. The team has had enough of the pining.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: fluffffffff

Warnings: swearing, as per usual, nothing else really. Just some cute lil fluff I wrote (also this is defo not my best work :D)

Word count: 3042

It was a seemingly ordinary day when the ex-Winter Soldier’s life changed forever.

        Bucky’d plopped down onto the sofa with a disgruntled sigh, making Steve smirk and divert his attention from the show on the TV to his friend.

        “You know, she likes you,” Steve said to Bucky as he sipped on his coffee giving him a side glance.

        Bucky just grumbled and crossed his arms, mind still reeling on the absolute failure that he had experienced earlier that day. It'd been a trainwreck of a mission. No lives lost, but he'd made an absolute fool of himself by making a few bad calls. “Who?”

        “Y/N.”

        “Yeah, as if,” he snorted. “I mean I know she likes me, but she likes everyone. There’s not a single mean bone in her body.”

        “No, I mean,” Steve huffed placing down the cup before he spilt some of it on himself, “she likes you. As in she might want to pursue a relationship with you.”

        Bucky was choking on his spit the second the word ‘relationship’ came out of his friend’s mouth. Y/N? Liked him? As in more than a friend? He’d be lying if he said that thought didn’t send him over the Moon, but it seemed like such a far reach, especially with the interactions they’d had, that he had to give Steve a glare, especially with how she didn’t even give a single sign she might be into him. 

       He raised an eyebrow. “Because you’re the expert on flirting and getting it on?”

        “Wow.” Steve put a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “That’s a low blow. I might’ve not had any game when I was skinny, but let me tell, you after the serum th-“

        “When was the last time you went on a date?” Bucky interrupted his rant.

        His friend broke the eye contact and paused, chewing on his bottom lip before deflecting. “Look that doesn’t matter.”

        Bucky rolled his eyes so much he feared they’d be permanently stuck like that.  

        “What matters is that she likes you, but she’s too shy to do anything about it,” Steve stated.

        “We had a pretty good conversation a couple of hours ago.” They did. If you take saying 'hello', an awkward wave and bashful smiles as a conversation, then yes, it was very successful.

        “Shy doesn’t always mean ‘incapable of holding a conversation’. Shy can mean not talking about how they’re feeling or how their day is because they think no one cares or would get annoyed with them,” Steve said looking over his mug.

        Bucky was baffled. “How – why – how could anyone think she’s annoying? She’s – she’s amazing!” But that’s when it hit him - Y/N never looked him in the eye, she always apologized for talking ‘too much’, and at any point in the conversation, she always diverted the attention away from her or her troubles.

        “So…” Bucky swallowed hard. “You think I should go for it?”

        Steve shrugged. “I think if you don’t, you’ll never know what it could lead to.”

        ***

        It was about an hour later after his enlightening chat with Steve that Bucky found himself walking towards where their resident lab rat usually stayed at when he heard muffled cursing.

        “Work, you absolute piece of shit!” Y/N exclaimed each word emphasized with a harsh hit against a machine’s side. “Top-notch technology my ass!”

        “Everything alright, doctor Y/L/N?” His voice was gruff as he interrupted her conversation with the computer. 

Not that Y/N would ever admit it, but usually just his presence alone set her body ablaze, but this time, it was a distraction and not a good one.

        “Just fucking peachy,” she grunted and slammed her hand against the computer with every uttered syllable.

        “Alright,” Bucky chuckled and entered the lab. “What did that poor computer do to you, since you seem so inclined to completely destroy it?”

        “For starters, it decided to shut down,” she growled at the computer, and if it was alive, it would hang its head in shame. “Then, when I rebooted it, the files were not lost, oh that I could live with, but they were corrupted. Meaning I do have them, but they’re useless, and that means I have to redo everything.”

        “You’d have to redo everything if the files were lost either way.” Bucky gave her a small smile, teasing the woman as she whined.

        “Yeah,” Y/N threw back her head. “But it wouldn’t be as humiliating. I mean, if they’re gone, they’re gone, but they aren’t!” She threw the screen a scowl. “The files are there, just sitting… and useless… just like me.”

        “Well, I wouldn’t say you’re useless." Bucky smirked at her, and she sighed.

        “Please, do tell what I’m of use here right now, right this moment.”

        “Company?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and that’s when Y/N realized how much she’d rattled on, how much of his precious world-saving time she’d taken up by a stupid mistake she made.

        “Sorry,” she muttered, shying away from Bucky’s gaze. “Didn’t mean to bore you with my crap.”

        “You don’t bore me. You could never.”

        He had that love-sick look on his face as she gave him a small smile, and her eyes dropped back to the ground. Not that Y/N ever noticed, but Sam never stopped teasing him about that fucking look. The one where his eyes glimmered like stars in the night sky, and his lips involuntarily lifted up in the corners. More than once Steve had to tell him to close his mouth or someone would slip on his drool. And each time, Bucky would slap his friend on the back of his head.

        “I’m not drooling,” he’d contest and go back to watching as Y/N moved around the lab, delicate fingers replacing whatever was fractured in his metal arm.

        “No, saliva just generally spills out of your mouth when she’s around.”

        Bucky would just grunt and say, ‘fuck off’. But he couldn’t help it really. 

        “Anyway." Y/N brought him out of the daydream. “Did you need anything? Is the arm acting up again?”

        Although she'd never think that Bucky had any feelings for her, there was some suspicion rising in her mind. Tony was the acting engineer, but on more than one occasion he had called her up and asked if she was available to take a look at Bucky's vibranium appendage.

        “Need some assistance, sweets,” the genius would mumble, and then when she would slip into work mode, he’d slyly exit the room and leave the two of them alone. And given how Tony knew, Y/N’s primary thing was chemistry and using the nanotech for cell regeneration, not engineering, it raised her suspicion level. Especially when the super-soldier came to her lab to have a check-up on days Tony was out specifically. 

        But she would never do anything about it. He could be standing at the altar with someone else in white walking towards him, and even then, Y/N, knowing it was her last chance, wouldn’t move a muscle to say what she felt. How could she when Bucky was the walking epitome of a Greek God while she tripped over her own feet while standing? For fuck’s sake, the man even fostered puppies in his spare time as if his day job wasn’t saving the world already how could her watching cells split in a petri dish match up to that?

        “Oh, uh,” he stammered fidgeting with his fingers. “No, I uh, actually came to ask you something. Nothing work or arm… related.”

        If Y/N’s heart wasn’t already beating out of her chest, she was pretty certain she’d vomit it up with the way he was looking at her. “Sure,” she whispered. “Umm, what do you want to know?”

        He twisted a ring on his flesh arm. She had gotten it for him two years ago during a game of ‘Secret Santa’, which Tony promptly had added her to the list. It made her feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside for being included, but then dread settled in. What the fuck do you get a bunch of superheroes that could afford literally anything they wanted? And then she’d pulled Bucky’s name from the tacky Santa’s hat.

        It wasn’t bad enough he was her crush, now she had to get him a gift he’d actually like, and she could barely hold a conversation with him that didn’t involve Avengers stuff. But from the looks of it, he had enjoyed the jewellery immensely, as any time he came over for whatever reason, he was wearing it. He liked it so much there was a lighter line of skin underneath the ring where the sun couldn’t get.

        But the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Bucky just froze as Y/N stared at him with hopeful and inquisitive eyes. All the things he wanted to say and ask just vanished from his brain as if he’d been put back into that horrible machine that used to wipe his mind.

        “Buck?” Her voice was small as his mouth hung open like an idiot. But he didn’t even get a chance to collect himself when Bruce rushed in.

        “Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but Y/N I need you. There’s a problem with the cradle.”

        And that was her cue. With an apologetic smile, she pulled off her latex gloves and rushed out of the room, but not before leaning back in through the door. “Hopefully I should be done in two hours tops. Raincheck on that question?”

        Bucky shook his head. “You know what, it wasn’t that important anyway.”

        Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, hand reaching out to touch him, but he pushed past her and was gone, leaving the woman a bit stunned, and in all honesty - heartbroken.

***

        The rest of the day she spent in utter confusion, and Bucky in self-wallowing. Y/N couldn’t understand what had changed his mind so suddenly, what she’d done so wrong, and Bucky beat himself up the whole time about choking and running away. Which is why Steve was absolutely done with it.

        As Bucky sulked on the couch, stuffing his face with M&Ms and the pop tarts he’d stolen from Thor’s stash, Steve with Natasha, Clint, Tony, Bruce and Y/N in tow, all came into the room. 

        Seeing her lab coat swish behind her as she walked, Bucky slid down into the couch even more, as if the granite gray leather could absorb him and erase him from existence. God, how he wanted to be erased from existence. 

        “Hey, Y/N?” Tony drew everyone’s attention as he handed a coffee to her. “Would you mind taking a look at F.R.I.D.A.Y’s intercom system? She’s gotten a bit rusty here.”

        “Umm yeah.” She nodded, kinda confused as to why she'd have to do it, but Tony was her boss, so Y/N rarely asked him much. Unless something he said was absolutely dumb. “Mind getting me a ladder?”

        With a wink from Steve, Clint nodded. “Sure.”

        But instead of just him leaving, all of the Avengers slowly started to ‘disperse’ throughout the living-room, before bolting towards the hallway and telling the A.I. to shut everything down.

        “What’s going on?” Y/N asked looking around the common room, spotting the bright fiery hair of Natasha as she rushed out of the room, asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to override the lock code and not let either of them out. “Why are the doors locked?”

        The smug smile she received from the assassin only infuriated Y/N more. “Tony!” she yelled through the glass, but the genius put hands over his ears and screamed back at her.

        “Not until he talks to you!”

        That’s when she felt someone towering over her from behind. 

Two beautiful Y/E/C eyes looked up at him as Y/N turned around, confusion swimming in her irises. Bucky almost swore he passed out just from that look alone. 

“Buck, what’s going on?"

        The second he’d seen the group walk in, he knew what was happening. He wanted to murder all of them. Rip them apart piece by piece, but not in front of Y/N. No. He’d do that in the middle of the night, blending into the shadows and delivering slow and painful deaths to all of the conspirators. 

        But at the same time, this was his chance. There was literally nowhere for either of them to run unless you counted jumping out through the window and the ninety-story drop, you’d face. Which seemed very appealing to him at that moment, but Steve’s words rang through his head – ‘You’ll never know what it could lead to.” And he hoped it would lead to something beautiful, so taking a deep breath, Bucky confessed.

        “Because I’m a coward…” he sighed, “and I can’t do it without someone telling me to.”

        “Why?”

        “I’m scared,” it came out as a whisper, and Y/N had to take a step back hurt flashing across her face thinking back to all of the times they’d spent together, while in truth Bucky’d been terrified of her.

        “Of me?”

        Instantly he shook his head seeing the pain on her features, and once more Bucky scolded himself. “No… of what your reaction might be.”

        “Buck, you know I would never judge you. You can always talk to me… about anything.”

        “Yes, but this will change things.”

        “How?”

        “I don’t know… that’s what I’m scared of. I don’t want to lose you.”

        “Never. You could tell me you’re hiding a body in the tub, and I would offer you my help to get rid of it.”

        And it was this firm statement that solidified his decision.

        “Would you maybe,” Bucky exhaled deeply not daring to turn and look at the team that was gawking at both of them like hawks pressed against the glass, the same team that had bolted shut every door and window to prevent either of theirs escapes, “would you maybe want to go out… with… me… on a date?”

        Y/N was stunned. The cup of coffee she was still holding in her hand went slack, and it would’ve smashed against the ground had Bucky not quickly stepped forward and caught it stepping to stand in front of her.

        “You don’t have to,” he mumbled, looking at the milk infused drink. It was a light beige colour with a white foamy swirl in the middle like a little vortex that was sucking him in. God did he hope it would pull him in and never let out after what he was going to say. “It’s just that… I really like you.” There. Now it was out there. “I really like you. And not the way a friend likes a friend. I like you in a way that I want to hold your hand when we walk out together. I want to buy you coffee in the mornings and wake you up with breakfast in the bed and smooth out the hair that’s fallen on your face…”

        She wasn’t breathing as with every single word said Bucky seemed to move closer. “I think I might be in love with you, Y/N…” his hand gently lifted and cupped her cheek.

        She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape, shallow breaths escaping into the air as her heart beat out of her chest in a manner, she thought it might hit Bucky directly in the stomach. 

        “Say something,” he pleaded, blue eyes searching for an answer in Y/N’s Y/E/C ones. “Please.”

        “I – I don’t know what to say,” she whispered back. And it wasn’t because she didn’t feel the same, not at all. In fact, when he had started his whole confession, she felt like she was about to pass out from all the love that invaded her body, but the thing is - Y/N has never been good with emotions. She never knew how to process them, how to give the correct answer and make people happy. She was shy, awkward and a recluse. And now she was supposed to come out of her safety shell. Which is why for the first time in her life, she expressed herself with her actions by leaning up, grasping onto the nape up Bucky’s neck and pulling their mouths together.

        When her lips touched his, Bucky knew there was no going back. Not that he’d ever want to. He couldn’t help the giant smile that bloomed on his face, as he pulled Y/N closer to him, wrapping his arm one around her waist, the other trailing up to settle between her shoulder blades, pushing their chests together, so impossibly close an ant couldn’t crawl between the two. 

        It became even more of a beautiful moment when Y/N’s own lips pulled up in a smile, breaking the kiss apart, but leaving them grinning and feeling dizzy from the happiness. 

        “Guess we needed a gentle nudge in the right direction,” Bucky gave out a small laugh, both palms securely resting on Y/N’s hips and bringing her closer.

        “I’d say it was more of a shove with a rifle at our backs,” she said, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders fingers skimming against his clavicles and making his breath stop halfway to his throat. “Let’s… let’s go somewhere… the two of us without a bunch of people watching our every move.” Her eyes flitted over to where the rest of the team stood behind the doors listening in on the two, and suddenly the heads of their teammates disappeared from the view, making Y/N and Bucky shake their heads.

        “Yeah,” he chuckled, squeezing her side. “That’s probably the best idea. You truly are a dream, aren’t ‘ya?”

        Y/N could only chuckle and hide her face in the crook of Bucky’s neck as her hold tightened around his middle, and he responded much the same by weaving his fingers in the hairs on the back of her neck and pulling her closer if that was even possible, burying his nose in the Y/H/C locks.

        “Don’t go all shy on me now.”

        “Can’t,” she mumbled back. “You make me turn into mush.”

        Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “A cute mush.”

        “Shut up!”

And he did by pulling her in for another searing kiss. God, how he loved his shy girl.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Bucky tag list: @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn​ @projectxhappiness​ @callmebucky-doll​ @coal000​ @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken​ @sophiealiice​ @raquelbc2003​ @watch-out-for-thorns​ @potentially-kinetic​ @thatonegirljessy99​ @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub​ @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611​ @horrorx570ximagines​ @the-nargles-made-me-do-it​ @pooslie​ @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel​ @purplebananatragedy​ @pxrrishly​ @parker-barnes-af​ @skulliebythesea​ @california-grown​ @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​ @belongsto-prachi​ @hello-i-am-insane

Marvel tags: @nerissa98​ @happyseagrill​ @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @wishingforahome​ @pizzarollpatrol​ @desir-ae​

Forever tags: @lumelgy​ @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @sweet-ladyy​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @strangersstranger​

A/N: have you ever hated your job so much so, that you can’t sleep, can’t eat and basically live in a well of anxiety? and not because of the work itself, but because of that ONE PERSON that makes it miserable? Cause I do. And I can’t wait to get away from it.

P.S. sorry for being so pessimistic, but it’s just a nightmare.

P.S.S. feedback is always appreciated :) P.S.S.S. if you wanna be added to a taglist, drop me a message :)

[fettsvette]

Heat

Boba Fett takes you on a faraway hunt that involves a prolonged journey through hyperspace. You’re horny as fuck, but your man is too preoccupied with running a tight ship to pay you any mind - until things get a little too desperate.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 3.0k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Edgeplay, teasing, rough penetration

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology

  ad’ika - little one

cyare - beloved

  mesh’la - beautiful

  -

  Another whine. 

  Another stomp of a boot. 

  Still no relief in sight. 

  You could be dying, and he wouldn’t even look at you. 

  “You need to settle down, ad’ika . I don’t have time for this right now.” Boba Fett warned sternly, his helmet just barely twitching to the side to regard you as you paced the cockpit, your footfalls having become increasingly louder and more obnoxious as time dragged on.

  The journey through hyperspace had lasted several hours already, and it was projected to go on for many more; and that’s if your flight plan continued on ahead of schedule. Why exactly Boba had felt the need to pursue a job all the way out in Wild Space, you had no idea. It was an average bounty, one that you frankly considered beneath his talents, but perhaps that was why he determined it had been safe enough to bring you along for the ride for once. Not that you really saw the point in your presence anyway; the thought of going on an adventure with your beau had thrilled you at first, thinking that the days would be filled with exploring strange, distant worlds together, the nights consisting of passionate lovemaking for hours on end. Instead, what you were getting was a whole lot of sitting around, staring out the viewport at the blue and white streaks of stars passing you by. The prospect of traveling at lightspeed had seemed exciting, but you truly hadn’t realized just how boring it actually was until you were stuck in the middle of it.

  Especially when the man you were on this sojourn with was much too preoccupied with fine-tuning every gadget and system aboard his prized transport, obsessively tracking the ship’s progress across the galaxy, rather than keeping his cyar’ika entertained.

  You couldn’t recall the amount of times your lover had told you to sit down, to be quiet, to climb up to your shared sleeping quarters behind the cockpit and take a nap to pass the time. He’d even threatened to lock you in one of the cages reserved for his hard merchandise down in the cargo hold until the Slave I reached its destination, but swiftly backpedaled when you expressed a little too much excitement at the idea. 

  You were desperate for Boba Fett’s touch, for his hand on your thigh, his lips on your neck, his thigh in between your knees, something - and he was purposefully ignoring you. No, he wasn’t just ignoring you… he was torturing you.

  It’d been days since Boba had touched you. He wasn’t even coming to bed with you, as far as you knew - when you’d retire for the night, he’d still be sitting in his pilot’s chair, motionless saved for his gloved hands running across the Slave I ’s dashboard, occasionally pressing a button or typing in some incomprehensible command. You’d wait up as long as your body allowed for the feeling of Boba sliding into the cot next to you, a well-muscled arm encircling your waist, his bare chest against your back, the outline of his thick cock pressed against your ass, but it never came. You’d arise hours later and descend the ladder to find him in the same spot you’d left him, or tinkering about down in the cargo hold, polishing one of his many blasters.

  The sight of him running a dirty, oiled cloth over the stock of the EE-3 model that had become his personal calling card, the blaster grease coating his rough hands, was enough to drive you wild, make you wish he was dragging the fabric back and forth between your legs instead. Hell, everything he did nowadays made you horny, from palming the thrusters in the cockpit upon exiting or entering lightspeed - ‘the only thruster he should be palming is this one right here,’ you found yourself thinking more often than not - to just seeing those large, powerful hands of his anywhere near the hard expanse of his thighs.

  You didn’t just feel aroused, or even simply sexually frustrated - you felt as if you were in heat , like some kind of debased animal left to rut against its master’s leg until it’s been kicked away. You wanted nothing more than to climb up on the console in front of the pilot’s seat and ruck your panties to the side, spreading your legs wide so he could see just how soaked you were for him, beg him to fuck you - or at the very least, bring you to some sort of release with a calloused finger or that deft tongue of his. You’d refrained from pleasuring yourself for the entirety of the trip so far solely so you’d be more than ready for him when he finally decided to claim you, but now you doubted if that time was ever coming. 

  “Boba, please. I’m suffering over here, and you’re just sitting there -” You began again in a high-pitched whine, not caring just how pathetic and needy you must sound. You could have begun weeping in frustration right then and there, had actually considered dropping to your knees in front of your lover, groveling at his boots for even just one touch. The ache between your legs was becoming more and more unbearable with the passing of each Standard Time Unit, to the point where sometimes you felt as if you were going to cum in your pants solely from walking around too much or positioning yourself in a chair a certain way, bringing yourself to a release from pent-up friction alone.

  But it was your accusation of Boba just sitting there that finally elicited a response, after days of being brushed off and outright ignored. His head jerked up with almost blinding speed, and he swiveled the pilot’s chair around to face you, his visor cocked to one side. His large hands gripped his knees tightly, his knuckles standing out sharply against the black leather of his gloves, his legs wide open. His cock was buried beneath several layers of the heavy black fabric that constituted his kama , but you swore you could still make out an impressive bulge nestled there in the lighting, and your mouth watered eagerly at the thought of him finally allowing you to take him in your mouth after so long, to feel his deliciously veiny member seated between your cunt lips.

  “I’m not ‘just sitting here .’ This ship is like an extension of myself. It’s as important to me as you are. I don’t expect you to understand that, but I need you to respect it. Hyperspace can be very unstable. Our coordinates and support systems need to be constantly monitored if we’re to spend this long a time at lightspeed, but now I see comprehending that is beyond your capabilities. Perhaps bringing you with me was a mistake, if you’re going to carry on like a selfish little brat for the remainder of our journey.” Boba retorted gruffly, shaking his head as if just speaking to you sickened him. His words felt like a slap across the face, and the corners of your eyes prickled harshly.

  You felt tears trickling silently down your cheeks, your face flushed hotly with the shame of not only being reprimanded by the man you loved, but the fact that despite his harshness towards you, you were fucking wet . You could feel the sticky warmth of your own arousal trickling out from between your inner lips and gathering in the cradle of your panties, soaking the thin fabric through. The fact that this man could berate you, insult you, and still you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him, beg his forgiveness, impale yourself on his girth over and over again until he filled you with his seed, was making you even hornier than you thought possible. Boba Fett had complete domination over every aspect of you, and it turned you on more than you could ever admit.

  “Boba… please . I’m sorry, I just… I need you so fucking bad.” You choked out, your voice nasally and piteous through your tears, your knees slightly buckling inwards in a half-assed attempt to stop the flow of wetness drooling out from your core. Boba gave a low hum and reclined back in his chair, his legs outspread even wider as he repositioned himself against the leather backing, seeming cruelly satisfied with the state he’d left you in.

  “Look at you. Are you actually weeping because you want my cock that badly?” Boba clucked his tongue disgustedly, but you could have sworn that he almost sounded in awe despite his tone. Your eyes flickered downwards when you noticed a slight movement of his hand, just in time to see him briefly squeeze at his obscured length, and you let out a throaty moan despite yourself. With a thinly veiled snort of amusement, Boba gestured in the general direction of your bowed, shaking legs, then raised his palm upwards, calling you forward with a quick movement of his fingers.

  “Take those off and get over here, girl.”

  You’d never shucked off your boots so fast in your life. You didn’t even bother untying the laces, hurriedly hopping from one foot to the next, pulling your feet from the restricting, clunky material in order to wiggle out of your pants and underwear as quickly as you could, panting and whining high in your throat in your excitement. You flung the garments off to the side, almost stumbling in your rush to get to Boba, and immediately reached out to grope for the seam of his trousers, beside yourself in your urge to free his heavy cock from its cloth prison. You were blocked by a firm, warm hand pressed flush against your chest, blunt fingers pressed into your breast and holding you back. Boba was chuckling at your need, a rumble that emanated from deep in his chest. The sound always went straight to your pussy whenever you heard it, so rough and sultry, and your clit throbbed.

  “Oh no , sweet thing. Don’t think your tears are going to get you exactly what you want. Like I said, I’m busy. If you’re that desperate to get some relief, you’ll have to work for it yourself. I’m not going to help you.” The sick glee in the bounty hunter’s voice was evident, and he aggressively patted his meaty thigh in order to show you exactly what he meant, when he’d offered to finally let you have what you desired. Boba made no move to get up or further adjust his stance, holding his palm open and again broadly gesturing to his outstretched leg, as if grandly offering you the best seat in the house in a Coruscanti opera. From the way your cunt was fluttering helplessly though, it may as well have been your throne .

  Shuffling forward and squatting daintily, you gingerly settled yourself onto the muscular sweep of Boba’s thigh beneath you, hissing sharply as the rough cloth pressed into the sensitive nub of your clit, wiggling the cradle of your pelvis back and forth experimentally to gauge what felt best. Boba gave no notice of your ministrations, he wasn’t even looking at you, and you glanced up to see that he had actually gone back to fiddling with the console of the Slave I as if you weren’t even there, as if your cunt juices weren’t currently soaking through the heavy fabric of his pants.

  And so you began to move.

  Gently at first, you writhed your pussy every which way in order to discover some semblance of balance, letting out pleased whimpers as your body gradually warmed to the sensation of your folds dragging along the black flight suit. Boba’s arms were outstretched on either side of you and you could hear him pressing buttons and occasionally typing in commands, completely ignoring the fact that you were currently rutting on his leg like an akk dog during mating season. His body betrayed his supposed indifference, though - with every thrust of your hips, your knee bumped his groin and you tellingly felt the generous erection sitting there, warm and heavy and hard. You attempted to reach out and grasp it, stroke him through his pants in time with the grinding of your cunt, but Boba batted your hand away as if you were a child being reprimanded for touching a hot nanowave stove.

  You continued to knead Boba’s thigh with your pussy, undulating your heat in stuttering figure-eight motions, a familiar tightness beginning to build in your lower belly, the scrape of the material against your swollen clit becoming overwhelming all too soon for your liking. Underneath your own needy whines as the sensation continued towards its crescendo, you could hear Boba groaning from somewhere deep in his chest despite his best efforts to ignore you and your lewd ministrations in his lap. 

  Your orgasm hit unexpectedly, triggered by an accidental bump of the edge of his thick leather belt to the hood of your clit, and you let out a guttural moan that sounded more animal than human. Days of pent-up release crested over you like the sand waves of Tatooine’s Dune Sea, over and over again, and your thighs trembled around Boba’s leg as your muscles clenched him. Your lover groaned appreciatively above you, one of the few signs he’d given to show that he was paying attention to your movements. You knew he could feel the flood of wetness from between your legs soaking into his flight suit, possibly through to his bare skin beneath, and that thought alone prompted another volley of spasms to your clit until you were utterly spent.

  Your breath came in harsh, almost painful pants, your legs shaking violently as you continued to hold yourself up, your bare toes biting into the durasteel floor of the Slave I beneath you. Boba sighed contentedly above you, the underside of his helmet nipping at the crown of your hair, one strong arm finally looped around your back, bracing you against his chest. You collapsed forward on the reassuring coolness of his breastplate, laying your sweaty cheek against the cold beskar as you shivered through the aftershocks of your orgasm. The relief you felt, after so long, was indescribable. You could have fallen asleep there in that moment, nude from the waist down, straddling Boba Fett’s thigh in the cockpit of his ship, drowsy on the rush of endorphins still flooding through your body. In your relaxed state, it took you a moment to realize that Boba had begun speaking, and you cracked an eye open as the gravity of his words hit you.

  “Kriff, you’re so wet, so beautiful for me. Are you ready, cyare?” He cooed sweetly, and before you could even question what you were ready for, Boba pushed you upwards slightly with his legs and his hold on you momentarily faltered, the sound of fabric being shuffled about filling the room. You then knew what he was up to and began hyperventilating in anticipation, wiggling your bottom as the Mandalorian worked himself into position beneath you.

  Boba pushed inside of you roughly, and you let out a choked scream, biting down on the swaths of black material circling his throat. Even though you had already cum, had been constantly horny for days, you still weren’t prepared for the sudden intrusion of Boba’s girth into your cunt, your walls spasming around him violently, the sensations too much for your overstimulated body to handle. Boba shushed you softly as you let out several overwhelmed sobs at the burning, stinging presence inside of you. You could feel the blunt head of him pressing against your cervix, an almost unbearable sharpness that you craved despite the discomfort. You knew you’d be able to feel him there for days after, and a pleasant shudder wracked your body.

  “Easy there, little one, easy . I’ve got you. Just stay still, mesh’la .” Boba attempted to shush you, patting your back and readjusting his hold on you as you squirmed and gasped in his arms, but you couldn’t stay still if you tried. You attempted to push your hips against his, get some semblance of a rhythm going, but Boba tsk ed, the light pressure he’d had on your waist becoming an iron grip, almost to the point of pain, and you stilled your movements, whining in protest.

  “Boba, please … I need to move …” You begged plaintively, tears once again springing to your eyes The laugh you received in response was almost sadistic in sound, and you moaned out of a raw mixture of pain and pleasure when Boba gave a slight roll of his hips, the head of his cock scraping your cervix. When he spoke, his tone was almost delightfully evil, and it made you shudder under his hold.

  “Oh no , sweet one. You’ve been such an annoyance to me for the entirety of our journey, and as I said before… I’m busy, and after the way you’ve behaved, I’m not going to let you get what you want that easily. Letting you get yourself off on my thigh was just a tease.” His gloved fingers lazily crawled over your exposed clit, and you hissed at the brief contact, before it was excruciatingly pulled away, Fett’s hand reaching back up to the Slave ’s console again.

  “You’re going to sit here on my cock until our next jump point, understand? Nice and quiet, now. If you try to push yourself down on me or wiggle around like a little brat, you’ll be banished to our sleeping quarters until we land, or until you learn to behave like someone your age. Is that clear, cyare?” His voice was sickly sweet, menacing, low and raspy in his throat. You could tell by that alone just how turned on he was, and his length twitched inside of you.

  Without waiting for a verbal answer, Boba gave another painfully slow roll of his hips, igniting that fire within your belly once more, and you groaned aloud in reply, burying your face in the dark cloth protecting his neck, choosing to ignore the dark chuckle. He could be so unfair, so karking cruel at times, but you always found yourself coming back for more… and you had a feeling he had no idea how much you were actually enjoying this.

  It was going to be a long trip.

[yellowsuitcase]

Snowed in // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @whack-ed and @jamilelucato ‘s A Very Harry Potter Christmas challenge! My prompt was Day 9 - Snowed in during a storm. I’m fond of this imagine and I hope you are too! Happy Holidays!!!

Summary: Best friends to lovers. Y/N and Draco are on the Slytherin quidditch team, but what happens when they arrive at the changing rooms early, only to have a full blown snowstorm start right outside the tent?

Warning(s): Swearing, kissing

Word Count: 4.2k

“You ready to play, Malfoy?” Y/N asked Draco. They were strolling to the changing rooms to get dressed for their quidditch match set to take place in half an hour. They had decided to leave the common room a bit earlier than the rest of their team. Draco was the Slytherin seeker, and Y/N was one of three chasers, arguably the best. The pair had met in their second year at Hogwarts when both got picked to be on Slytherin’s team. Throughout the many many practices and high-intensity games, the team grew close to one another. Draco and Y/N, in particular, had become the best of friends. However, unbeknownst to Y/N, Draco wanted for them to be more than best friends. He’d had a crush on Y/N for as long as he could remember but never dared to tell her. The way he saw it, it was better to maintain what they had rather than risk it all by confessing. 

Draco pressed the tip of his broom to the floor as he walked, using it as somewhat of a cane. When he heard Y/N’s question, he turned his head towards her. She had an excited smile on her face; it was one he was familiar with. She was always in a happy mood whenever quidditch was involved. “Are you, Y/L/N?” he asked, redirecting her question back at her. 

Y/N scoffed. “I’m always ready, you know that.” Draco chuckled lightly. “I do, but Gryffindor isn’t an easy team to beat,” Draco replied. He knew the frustration of losing to Gryffindor well.

Y/N nodded and shrugged her shoulders. “That may be true, but maybe if you yank your head out of your ass and catch the snitch within the first ten minutes, we can finish them off early.” Draco faked a hurt reaction to his friend’s words by putting his hand over his chest and pasting a pained expression on his face. She stifled a laugh while Draco rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you get four goals within the first ten minutes of the game, huh?”

“Malfoy, you know that’s impossible-“ Y/N was cut off by a strong gust of cold wind slapping her in the face as she opened the door leading outside. Regardless, she pushed through; Draco was right behind her.

“I didn’t think it’d be this cold today,” she murmured. Draco nodded as he took his gloves out from his pocket and slid them onto his pale, ring clad hands. “We’ll get warm once the game gets going, don’t worry,” he replied, opting to find a silver lining. The two of them walked down the hill as fast as they could, the chilly air nipping at their exposed skin. 

When they finally got into the changing rooms, they breathed a sigh of relief as they were now shielded from the cold. Draco looked around. “Nobody’s here... that’s a bit odd,” he observed. Y/N pursed her lips in thought as she scanned the changing room. “Well, we did come down a bit early. I’m sure someone will be here soon.”

Draco, who was still curious, walked over to the entrance to the tent. The strong wind hit his face again; this time, however, snow came with it. “Y/L/N! It’s snowing!” Draco exclaimed excitedly, wanting to share this with his friend. Y/N immediately dropped the black boot in her hands and rushed over to Draco. The pair smiled at the sight of the little flakes falling to the grass, rapidly coating it. But then the wind began to pick up, carrying the snowflakes with it. “Shit, it's snowing,” Draco said, realization was settling in. There was no possible way to play a match in such extreme weather. This must be the reason nobody was with them in the changing room. Draco sighed and looked at Y/N. She looked utterly crushed; she’d been looking forward to today’s match for weeks. "Let’s head back to the castle, no point being here anymore,” Draco reluctantly suggested. He knew, however, Y/N wouldn’t be easy to convince.

Y/N frowned, her eyes growing sad. “Maybe it’ll pass. It looked like it was slowing down just a second ago, didn’t you see?” she asked. Draco shook his head and put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “It’s not going to stop, Y/L/N. Come on, let’s get out now before it gets too harsh,” he pleaded gently. But to no avail. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and marched over to her locker. She picked up her previously discarded boot and slipped it on her foot determinedly. 

“Y/L/N… they’re not going to let us play in this weather,” Draco told her. But she paid him no mind and only continued to put on her uniform. He glanced outside and saw that the snow had gotten significantly higher despite only a few minutes passing since it had started. Draco began to grow anxious, and briskly walked over to the girl, now clad in green robes. “Y/L/N, please. The snow is rising, and if we don’t leave soon, we might not be able to get back.”

He watched as Y/N sighed and looked up at him. “Why are you so hung up on some snow? It cannot possibly be that bad,” she snarled as she got to her feet and stomped over to the entrance. But when she saw the amount of snow on the grass, her anger dissipated and turned into shock. Draco threw up his hands. “I told you, we have to go now, gather your stuff,” he instructed. Y/N reluctantly stepped away from the tent’s opening, quickly unhooked her bag from her locker, and swung it over her shoulder. Draco promptly threw on his quidditch robes, as they were warmer than his regular clothes, and went to stand by the entry and wait for her. He noticed her red nose and cheeks as she walked towards him. 

They looked outside at the abundance of white. Draco glanced at Y/N. She looked apprehensive. Truth be told, he was too. So without allowing himself to sit on the idea, he reached out and took her hand in his. He saw her look at him in his peripheral vision, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “Ready?” he asked. Y/N squeezed his hand in reply, making butterflies erupt in Draco’s stomach. He took a deep breath and walked through the exit and into the storm. Immediately he and Y/N were met with the painfully bitter wind. They could hardly open their eyes, much less walk against the wind. 

Draco gripped Y/N’s hand tighter as he pushed himself to step forwards. Left foot right foot left foot right foot. But it was no use. The wind was too strong, and the snow was too high. His entire pant leg was soaked up to his shins. He looked behind him to see Y/N was struggling as well. Her hair was blowing violently, and she had her free hand up in an attempt to shield her face. Draco looked forward again and continued to trudge ahead. They were almost to the stairs now. 

Suddenly, Draco felt Y/N release his hand. He whipped his head around to see her teetering on her feet,  about to topple over into the snow. Before he could catch her, the wind pushed her backward, and her body collapsed onto the snow, sinking into it. Draco rushed over to his best friend and hurriedly stuck his hands into the snow so he could get a grip on her torso. Once he got a good hold, he locked his knees and lifted her out of the snow. She was shivering like a leaf, and her robes were now soaked. Draco could clearly see the redness of her cheeks and the purple of her lips. He was afraid of what might happen to her if they kept pressing on, so in a split-second decision, he positioned his hands underneath her armpits and raised her up and into his arms. Luckily, she got the message and swiftly wrapped her trembling legs around Draco’s waist and her arms around his neck. Once Draco was sure she was secure, he began heading back to the tent. With the wind now at his back, he got himself and Y/N inside in no time at all.

It wasn’t much warmer within the tent, but at the least, it blocked out the wind and snow, and that’s all Draco needed. He raced to the nearest bench and gingerly sat Y/N down onto it. Once she was settled, he took his bag off his back and ripped it open with shakey hands. The black handle caught his eye instantly. He reached for his wand and pulled it out pronto. Without a moment's hesitation, he muttered, “Incendio.” A small flame burst from the tip of his wand. “Hold your hands out,” he told Y/N. She listened to him and raised her hands to the warm fire. Draco patiently held his wand steady as she tried to get warm. However, after a few minutes, Y/N was still shivering aggressively. “I’m n-not gonna g-get w-warm until I g-get dry,” she stuttered through chattering teeth. Draco nodded and put out the flame on his wand, and hastily cast the hot air charm. A gust of wind blew through Y/N’s clothes and dried her right up. When she regained her composure, she said, “Thanks. S-shall I do you as well?” 

“That’d be nice, yes. Are you feeling any warmer?” 

“Not quite yet. But maybe if we keep casting this spell, we can fight off the cold,” Y/N mused. Draco chuckled. “That is certainly an idea, but we can’t stay here forever. We need to get back.” The same warm air he cast on her flew through him as Y/N returned the spell. It melted the snow on his shoulders. He thanked her with a nod and took a seat next to her on the old wooden bench. “Got any ideas, Y/L/N?” he asked while relighting the flame with his wand. She sighed. Her body was still shuddering. “All I know is I am not going back out there. S-suppose we should just wait for s-someone to find us?” she asked. Draco shrugged. “I thought of that as well, but I doubt anyone is venturing out into that anytime soon,” he said, gesturing to the storm raging on beyond the tent walls. “We’d have to wait until the blizzard is over before anyone attempts to locate us. And who knows how long that could be?”

Draco watched as a deep frown appeared on Y/N’s face. He knew she was afraid. Frankly, he was too. He felt like an idiot. How was it that after five years at Hogwarts, all he could do for them was light a small flame? He had pondered creating a makeshift fire pit on the ground, but the earth was likely too cold, and what if it spread? Then what would they do? Draco felt lost. He glanced around the tent, trying to look for an answer. And then he saw it—his broom. Of course!

“Y/L/N, our brooms!” he yelled abruptly, startling the girl beside him. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Our brooms! We can ride them back to the castle. Merlin, why didn’t I think of it before?” he wondered aloud as he jumped to his feet and grasped his broom between his fingers. Long ago, his father had bought the entire team Nimbus 2001s, and even though it had been roughly four years since then, the brooms still held up strong. Draco swelled with pride; he was confident they’d be able to fly them to safety. But then he looked at Y/N and his smile faded. She was still on the bench, her fingers clutching it tightly. Draco propped up his broom and walked over to the girl, kneeling on the ground before her. He took her hands in his, making her look at him. “You’re having doubts?” Draco questioned. Y/N nodded; her face looked grim. “I just… I-I don’t know, Malfoy. It doesn’t seem s-safe. I mean, what if one of us f-falls? What if I turn around and y-you’re gone? What if the wind is too strong and w-we can’t make it or what if we can’t see, o-or—”

“Shh,” Draco shushed her gently. “We can do it. I’ve seen you on your broom; you’re quicker than a bird. We have our goggles; we’ll be able to see. And if you fall, I’ll come back for you,” he assured her. Y/N grimaced. She was still afraid. Draco squeezed her hands and stood up, taking her with him. They each already had their gloves on. All they needed were the goggles. Draco pulled his out and put them on his forehead. Y/N reluctantly did the same while the blonde boy took their brooms into his hands. He offered Y/N hers, and they slowly walked to the entryway of the changing room. 

“Are you ready?” Draco asked. Y/N shook her head. “No. No, I-I can’t do this. It’s too risky, Draco,” she stammered. Draco’s heart skipped a beat. She never called him by his first name. It was always his surname, Malfoy. His face must’ve shown his surprise because she immediately tried to backtrack. “I mean, really, Malfoy, don’t you think we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves?” she asked nervously. Draco noticed she was still shivering quite intensely. He wanted nothing more but to hold her in his arms and warm her up, but he needed to know if she wanted that too. He decided to test the waters and call her by her first name as well. “I know it’s intimidating, Y/N,” Draco watched as Y/N’s face faltered upon her name reaching her ears. “But this is the best option we’ve got, and I truly believe we can do this. Have you seen a better seeker than me?” he asked in a joking tone, trying to cheer her up. This was successful; Y/N began to chuckle under her breath. “Oh, I think I have,” she said mischievously. Draco cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?” he prodded. “And who might that be?”

Y/N smirked. “I think you’ve heard of him. His name is Harry Potter,” she stated playfully. Draco narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to make himself appear intimidating. “You take that back, you git.” Y/N squealed and ran away from him just as he took a step towards her. “Make me!” she shouted. “You little…” Draco muttered under his breath before starting to run towards her. Y/N giggled and darted across the tent, diving behind a random Ravenclaw locker. But Draco was hot on her heels, and within seconds, he had cornered her. 

“I’ve got you now, Y/L/N,” Draco declared in a sing-song voice. He lifted his arms to grab her, but then she yelled, “Nope!” as she snuck underneath Draco’s outstretched hands. The boy snickered and watched as she ran to the opposite side of the tent. “Come here, you little minx,” he called after her. Her sweet laughter filled his ears, and he felt his heart pound. She looked so beautiful with that smile on her face. Draco felt as if he was on the moon, knowing that he had put that smile on her face.

After a few minutes more of running around, Draco was able to trick her. Y/N was hiding in a corner, trying to locate her friend. He was right on the other side of the lockers, waiting for her to make a break. And when she did, he was ready. He pounced on her as she turned the corner in front of him. He took her into his arms and held her still. “Damnit!” she yelled. Draco laughed at her reaction and gripped her tighter, her back pressed to his chest. When he determined they had both caught their breaths, he gently loosened his grip and turned her around. When their eyes met, Draco said nothing. He only studied the girl in front of him. Her cheeks were rosy, but not from the cold. Although it was dark in the tent, her eyes seemed to sparkle. Even with her hair all messy and her skin bone dry from the wind, she had never looked more beautiful than she did right then. 

“Are you warm now?” Draco asked softly. Y/N gave him a small smile. “Not quite,” she murmured. Draco breathed in deeply; his heart was pounding in his chest. It was now or never. “Could I hold you?” he whispered. Y/N simply nodded. Draco felt butterflies ambush his stomach, but with surprisingly steady hands, he drew her in close and put his arms around her lower back, pressing his chest against hers. She settled right in, put her head on his shoulder, and exhaled slowly. Her breath formed smoke in the air. Draco couldn’t believe he had her in his arms like this. Sure they had hugged before, but this was… different. It felt intimate. He could feel her heartbeat. He could smell her hair. 

Draco savored that moment. He was fully present in it, and he felt safe in it. That was until she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. Her gaze flickered to his lips, and to Draco's surprise, she said, “Kiss me.” His heart skipped a beat. Without wasting another second, he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. It felt as if fireworks were going off. Draco had yearned for this moment for so long, and it was finally happening. The girl he loved, the girl he adored, was kissing him. 

Then out of nowhere, Draco pulled away, leaving Y/N confused. However, that confusion was soon replaced with joy when Draco spoke. “I love you, Y/N,” he said. “I love how you make every bad day that much brighter. I love how your pranks keep me on my toes. I love your laugh, your smile, your everything, and I… I can hardly bear it. You’re literally the biggest source of my happiness, and I am so lucky to have you in my life. And if we freeze to death out here,” Draco paused as Y/N chuckled lightly, “then at least I can die knowing I finally confessed my feelings for you."

Y/N shook her head in amazement. “Draco Malfoy, you are the most dramatic person I know. I love you too, you wanker," she said before kissing his cheek. "Now enough with the sappy shit, let’s get out of here,” she said calmly as she walked away, leaving Draco alone and, quite frankly, flabbergasted. Y/N seemed to sense this. She turned back to him. “Surely you didn’t think I wasn’t crushing on you, did you?” Draco opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say. “Merlin, Malfoy. Are you that thick? I’ve liked you since our first year!” she shouted. Draco gasped. “You’re lying,” he declared, not wanting to believe it. Y/N rolled her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. “We can discuss this later, come on, I’m getting sick of this place.”

Draco conceded and met her at the exit. They held onto each of their wands and were about to face the music until Draco had an idea. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and stopped her from stepping away. “What?” she asked, her face was scrunched up in confusion. “Let’s ride the same broom. That way, we’ll be heavier, and it’ll be harder for the wind to push us back. And that way, we won’t lose one another,” he said, excited that he had thought of that at the last minute. Y/N rolled her eyes and put her broom back where it had been propped up prior. “What? It’s a good idea!” Draco insisted. “It is, but I wish you would’ve thought of it earlier. Maybe then we could already be sitting by the fire munching on chocolate frogs. I only need one more to complete my collection, you know.”

Draco put an exaggerated frown on his face, earning himself a quick kiss from Y/N. “It’s a lovely idea. Let’s try it out,” she said as she caved. Draco smiled and hopped onto his broom, gesturing to Y/N to do the same. She threw her leg over the broomstick, slid her goggles on, and put her hands on Draco’s waist. “Hold me tighter. You won’t hurt me,” Draco instructed her. He felt her arms snake around his stomach and squeeze. And with that, Draco pressed forward and out into the storm.

When they left the confines of the quidditch tent, they were immediately met with the painfully cold wind. The storm had not ceased its intensity in the slightest. It was more or less a winter wonderland, a bright one at that. Even though she had goggles, Y/N still felt the need to shield her eyes by burying her face into Draco’s back, leaving the Slytherin boy to navigate all by himself. However, it seemed as though his hypothesis was correct. The combined weight of each of them allowed the pair to, miraculously, cut right through the storm. They were streaking through the white sky, weaving around the trees and soaring past the Owlery. Then Draco had an idea. He gripped his broom firmly and called out to Y/N, “Hold on!” With a deep breath, he leaned forward and spun them right into a barrel roll, eliciting a scream from Y/N. Draco laughed at her reaction while zooming over the Quad. Finally, though, he landed them in front of the doors to the entrance hall.

Once on the snowflake covered ground, they slid off the broom and ran up to the polished wooden doors. Draco tried the handle and found that it was locked. He angrily whipped out his wand and bellowed, “Alohomora!” The doors slowly creaked open, and Draco quickly ushered Y/N inside before following after her and slamming the door shut behind them. When the storm was blocked out, the lovers looked at one another and let out an enormous sigh of relief. Y/N slid her goggles off her face and dropped her bag onto the floor. Draco did the same, then propped his broom against the stone castle wall. He turned back to Y/N, and upon seeing the circles indented into her skin from her goggles, he began to giggle. “What’re you laughing at?” she asked. This only made Draco chuckle more, and without saying anything, he brought his hands to his eyes, mocking the rings on her face. Y/N sighed while Draco wheezed and held his stomach. “Really, Draco? You are an absolute child.” This caught Draco's attention.

“Hey! Says the one who started a game of tag while a blizzard was raging on outside and actively burying us in snow,” Draco retorted. Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, shove off, Malfoy. It was fun, am I not allowed to have fun?” Draco put his index finger and thumb to his chin, faking contemplation. “Stopp,” Y/N whined while stomping her foot, making Draco’s heart expand with fondness. He smiled and walked over to her, drawing her into his arms. “Come here, darling. I’m sorry for teasing you.” He went to put his head on her shoulder, but suddenly, Y/N wiggled out of his arms. He looked at her quizzically. “Darling?” she asked incredulously, her eyebrow cocked. Draco felt blush fill his cheeks. “Well, I just thought…”

“You thought what? That you could call me darling simply because we kissed?” Draco grimaced and averted his eyes. He felt like an absolute fool. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just assumed—” 

Y/N interrupted Draco’s stammering, “At least ask me out first…”

Draco closed his eyes, feeling his initial panic dissipate. He thought he was in trouble, but it seems as though Y/N was only playing with him. He felt her begin to laugh in his arms. His eyes flickered open to see her smiling at him brightly. “Alright, then, would you—”

Draco was once again cut off, but this time it was by Adrian Pucey, a fellow Slytherin. He was a chaser on their quidditch team. “There you guys are! We thought you were lost in the storm. Where have you been?” he asked. A look of confusion overtook his face when he noticed the position they were in. “Why are you guys hugging?” Draco and Y/N’s faces burned, and they immediately let each other go. 

“We were in the locker room. Took Draco’s broom out into the blizzard and luckily were able to get back. Has dinner been served yet?” Y/N asked, successfully dodging Adrian’s question. “Oh yeah, it’s meatloaf tonight. If you hurry, you can still get some,” Adrian informed them. “Great, thanks, mate,” Draco replied while giving him a wave. Adrian seemed to get the message and retreated back down the corridor from whence he came, leaving Y/N and Draco alone once again.

“As I was saying—”

“Meet me outside the common room at eight tomorrow night,” Y/N said while giving Draco a couple pats on his chest. “See you then?”

Draco looked at the girl in front of him, a bewildered expression on his face. He nodded rapidly. “Y-yeah, I’ll um see you then,” he replied. Y/N smirked and pressed a kiss to his cheek before sauntering down the hallway, leaving Draco shocked but also somewhat fuzzy inside. “Bloody hell." he brought his hand to the back of his neck. "That girl will be the death of me,” he murmured as he watched her walk away, knowing he was going to spend the remainder of his time before their date thinking only of her. 

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar  @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dixiethemorab24  @xoxohollands  @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy​ @avaluriaa @victoriaporges

[caffernnn]

Final stroke spoilers: ⚠️‼️

I just saw a post on Twitter about the Haru and Rin scene and how they didn’t feel that it was that ooc of Haru. I thought I was the only one who felt that it was kind of justified on Haru’s end. Because both Rin and Ikuya put Haru and their friends through so much when they were lost and wanted to swim with Haru again. And I get that professional swimming is entirely different than what they’re used to, but it really sucks that as soon as the competition got a little hard they decided to just drop free and only swim their preferred styles. That’s got to be a slap in the face to Haru, because what was all of that other stuff about? Like Rin wanted for YEARS for Haru to swim on the world stage and after the first race is like “you’re on your own.” He honestly deserves it to be honest even if Haru would’ve never said anything to protect their friendship he was clearly thinking or thought these thoughts. For a show where Haru is the mc we rarely get to see how he feels about things. I wish we can see the movie soon, cause I really wanna see how that whole sequence takes place.

⚠️ Talking about Free! Final Stroke spoilers below the cut ⚠️

It’s wild to me (it probably shouldn’t be surprising; idk) how even going off of just spoilers, there is a clear divide in the reactions people are having to Haru’s actions in the movie, especially in reference to the sudden shift leading up to the fight with Rin. I can see why people are surprised by it on a base level because so much of his successes in DttF, paired with the camaraderie everyone seems to have for a majority of the movie, leads you to believe Haru has emotionally matured and stabilized since high school, which is true! He’s more open to change and examining his emotions, especially as he starts to grapple with a high-stakes long-term goal for what feels like the first time. With that said, all of this can be true at the same time Haru is going through a steady breakdown that can/will likely lead to burnout. So many people who’ve been put through rigorous academic programs or career training or anything else equally as intensive can attest to the frustration of feeling like every few steps forward (gaining experiential knowledge, making connections, learning more about your identity in reference to x goal, etc) are followed by a step back (exhaustion, plateaus, expectations you can’t meet, mistakes spilling out when you can’t keep repressing the negatives in the name of “productivity”). Haru was able to make it this far because he has grown and started to heal some of the cracks in his support group, but the sheer amount of pressure makes it easier for him to break, and old wounds that never fully healed have time to fester.

I probably sound like a broken record in these movie-related posts when talking about Haru getting obsessed with becoming stronger and not knowing what to do with that fairly new and overwhelming drive. I can’t be mad at Haru completely for his choices here (can’t wait to be called a Haru apologist when the movie comes out in more places jfjdjd) because he partially fell victim to circumstance. This is one of the first times Haru takes the expectations of him being a “hero” or “prodigy” into consideration, and now he’s trying to navigate the expectations of success that come with those titles while not being sure 1) what exactly they are beyond winning, and 2) not being sure if they’re actually attainable for him. Along with that, he’s putting faith in Ryuuji’s instruction and guidance because he needs someone with any sort of credibility or experience with the pro circuit to show him how to get to the top. Even though from an outside standpoint it’s easier to discredit and reject Ryuuji’s assertion that everyone at the top has to give something up to get there, there are a number of reasons Haru reconsiders the notion with everything he’s seeing. He’s seeing his newest rivals reach crazy success and strength through isolation, and Ryuuji is dangling a golden opportunity in front of his face by going to Haru in the moments where he’s most vulnerable and saying “yes, that strength you crave is possible for you, but only if you pay this specific price for it.” Nobody should bear the weight of “saving” Haru from his circumstances (especially not his friends on their own journeys… Ryuuji and other mentors watching this trainwreck can eat my shorts tho), but dealing with this ultimatum while his core support group is pushing forward through their own challenges and/or busy in another country, I can’t be too surprised when he starts to overextend himself and burst at the seams.

As far as the blow-up with Rin, I won’t say it’s fully justified, but it’s understandable. The way Haru has had to make peace with his hardships with Ikuya and Rin has largely been by atoning for his own involvement in those rifts and trying to turn over a new leaf without expecting much in return. He took the opportunities of swimming with both of them again to replace any apologies on their parts and largely made peace with it. As much as it’s going to hurt to watch, I’m interested to see this fight play out because it sounds like it addresses a problem we bring up a lot in meta analyses posts: there needs to be more explicit conversations and apologies between characters, or the closure feels flimsy and temporary at best. This fight isn’t about closure (it’s about a lot of things both involving and excluding Rin, but I ranted about that in the other spoiler post) but it’s acknowledgement after all of this time that there’s still a need for it. Having Rin back in his life as a rival and friend has held the caveat in the back of his mind that Rin will leave his side again if Haru’s friendship/rivalry stops serving all of his interests. Haru’s ultimate fear of being abandoned by people, of people using him without understanding him and then throwing him aside for someone/something else, is drastically coming back to the surface in all of his stress. Rin and Ikuya choosing to continue their pro careers with strokes that better suit their strengths isn’t abandonment, just like Makoto choosing a university in Tokyo wasn’t, but Haru is so lost in his own stress and despair that he can’t see these choices as anything but personal attacks in the moment. These choices don’t have to do with Haru and we’re never meant to hurt him (which he comes to realize by the end of each fight), but the unresolved issues mixed with his fears make him explode.

It’s not a black and white situation where only one side is in the right, and I hope whatever resolution comes in the second movie acknowledges that. Rin didn’t deserve Haru’s taunting and wrath in that moment, but I do want him to reflect on the whole mess and recognize that Haru’s in a desperate place not unlike the one he was in when he first went to Australia and seemingly cut everyone off. I want them both to consider that avoiding airing out those insecurities because it’d be uncomfortable or embarrassing ultimately led them back here, unsure how to talk about changes and concerns without first having one of them explode or hit rock bottom. They can be friends outside of swimming, I’d want them to be friends outside of swimming, but I think Haru isn’t blind to how much of their connection is reliant on intrigue in the water, and a part of him is scared that Rin won’t have a reason to stick around if they aren’t rivaling each other in the same stroke anymore.

All of this can make for a great chance of resolution in the second movie, if done well. There’s opportunity for Haru to realize that the trajectory of dreams can change, and just like Rin changing his stroke or Makoto changing his training emphasis, you can honor the parts of the dream that first inspired you while finding a path that honors the person you’ve become. There’s opportunity for Haru to break from the dangerous echo chamber he’s currently in telling him he has to do this all alone in a few ways. Maybe he’ll have a moment where he’s like “I gave up everything and still couldn’t get stronger, so now I need to get back to finding what gives me strength personally.” Maybe he’ll have a moment where he’s like “if my only option is a path paved in loneliness, I need to find a new dream.” There are so many directions the story can go in at this point, and I’m excited to see what happens next (and maybe write about the paths they don’t choose lol).

[retrievablememories]

fool me once | ten (m)

title: fool me once pairing: ten x black!reader genre: smut request: “Hi I’m new to your page and I just wanted to say I love your writing so much and I’ve started writing my own because of you🥺and also if requests are still open can you do a black Poc with Ten and she does a prank on Ten which ends up with her ass up and face down or anything with Ten being a dom🤭” word count: 2.7k warnings: dom!male, sub!female, fingering, orgasm denial, spanking, use of restraints, use of vibrator, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay, dirty talk a/n: i planned to write this one later, but i needed to get this off my chest now because it was haunting me lmao. don’t try any of these pranks at home 🚫

Playing pranks on your boyfriend is one of your favorite pastimes. Maybe to your own detriment. 

You’d been messing with him all week, but mostly because you hadn’t seen him in a while, and in your reasoning, it was your way of showing him how much you missed him. Some people’s love language involves buying gifts and writing sweet poems for their loved ones; yours just happened to involve getting on your boyfriend’s nerves.

He wasn’t very happy when you tricked him into eating an Oreo with toothpaste in the middle instead of cream. Or when you hid one shoe in every pair he owns so he had to leave the house in mismatched ones. He was even less amused when you wrapped his entire car in saran wrap the night before he was supposed to go meet up with the WayV members.

You’d been wondering when it would happen, almost certain that the saran wrap prank would take him over the edge, but Ten finally hits a breaking point after your latest idea. This time, you invited him to come over to your house and left the door unlocked for him to get in by himself. 

You listen quietly from the doorway as you hear him pulling into the driveway and coming up the front walkway, your hand over your mouth to stop your giggles from bursting out. You rush into the kitchen before he comes in.

The only thing Ten can register as he opens the door is what looks like a dozen spiders jumping out at him, which makes him scream and fall back on the porch. He trips as he jumps back, which causes him to bust his ass and go rolling down the porch steps. When he manages to get himself upright again, he notices one of your neighbors watching the spectacle from their yard, looking at him like he’s a complete fool.

You watch it all happen from your spot where you crouch in the kitchen doorway, laughing the entire time. Ten stumbles back to the entryway and quickly realizes the “spiders” are just a row of fake toys glued to a clear string, and he rips it off the top of the door. When he spots you, you laugh even louder at his red face and upset expression. “Y/N! What the fuck is this?!”

Ten slams the door shut behind him and throws his bag to the floor, and you immediately take off when you see him coming towards you. All you hear is his feet hitting the floor as he chases you through the kitchen and up the stairs. You duck into your bedroom and try to slam the door to slow him down, but he pushes his way in before you can even think about locking it and ends up wrestling you to the bed.

“Ow! Quit manhandling me, you’re so mean!”

“I’m mean? You’ve been tormenting me with this shit for days now!”

Ten manages to get you on your stomach and put his weight on you, then begins searching underneath your pillow for something. When he finds it, he pulls it out triumphantly and ties your hands behind your back with it—your own headscarf. You can guess that he’s chosen it because he knows you won’t struggle too hard against it, not wanting to rip the material. “This is so fucked up,” you say breathlessly, though you’ve yet to stop laughing.

“You’ll find out real quick that you can’t always get away with everything.” He resituates himself so he can pull you over his lap and grab a handful of your ass, and you already know what’s coming. Still, when he pulls back and spanks you, you yelp from the shock of it. There is a part of you, though, that enjoys the feeling of it—of his hand coming down hard on your ass, leaving a sharp sting even through the fabric of your shorts.

He makes you count to 20, which leaves your ass burning fiercely by the end of his punishment. When Ten feels you’ve had enough, he strips your shorts and underwear off together, caressing your stinging skin with an unexpected gentleness. You know him well enough to understand that there’s something else on the other side of this merciful behavior, though, and you try to brace yourself for whatever that might be. 

As you thought, Ten nudges your thighs apart a tad wider, and that touch is all the forewarning you get before two of his fingers are knuckle-deep in you. You gasp and tremble against his body at the sudden stretch and pleasure of him pushing his way inside you. Your toes curl from it, and you try to draw ragged breaths as he fingerfucks you, thrusting into your tender g-spot. He’s always known exactly where to strike to weaken all your defenses.

“Tennn, this isn’t fair…” Your arm muscles ache from their positioning and from you trying to resist the urge to struggle against your bonds.

“You think this isn’t fair? We’ve barely started.”

There isn’t much you can do except lie across his lap and take what he’s giving you, whimpering quietly all the time. Unfortunately for you, what he gives you turns out not to be as much as you thought it’d be. It doesn’t take long for that familiar tightening in your abdomen to start, and you push your hips up more, trying to reach that peak faster. Ten doesn’t cave to your desires, though, and stills inside you, letting you clench fruitlessly around his fingers.

“Please don’t stop,” you moan, though your imminent relief is already slipping away from you.

“You’ll come when I decide you should, Y/N.”

When your pleasure has dropped down from its former peak, Ten begins moving his fingers in you again, building you right back up. He pulls them out at one point to rub your clit, making your muscles tense and release as he massages that oversensitive part of you. The way his graceful fingers circle around your pearl makes your head swim, and you have to try not to drool a bit from the ecstasy of it.

This time you keep yourself as quiet as possible as you get nearer, not wanting him to find out you’re about to come and stopping it again. That doesn’t work though—of course. He knows you better than that. As soon as you think you might actually get to come, he pulls his hand away from you yet again. You twist around impatiently on his lap, which makes him slap your ass.

“Stop being such a brat and behave for once. Do you think I’m gonna give you my dick with you acting like this?”

You keep your lips pressed together, some part of you not wanting to let him have the upperhand even though he’s already long had it. You have to open your mouth to scream, though, when he spanks you harder than before.

“Answer me, Y/N.” The sound of his demanding voice makes you twitch around his fingers, and you’re sure he can feel it.

“I-I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” 

Ten removes his wet fingers from you and rearranges your body on the bed stomach-down. You sigh deeply, still upset at getting no orgasm, but you let him maneuver you however he likes. He pulls your hips up so your head is resting on the pillow and your ass is offered up to him.

“Arch your back for me,” he says, his hand pressing against the small of your back. You moan softly at his words, doing as he asks.

You can’t see what he’s doing behind you, but you hear him moving around. Your body jerks at the sudden feeling of his dick sliding through your lower lips.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” His tip teases you but doesn’t enter, and you’re almost ready to shout with how pent-up and frustrated you are, though you also know doing that will only make things harder for you.

“I’ll be good,” you say quietly.

Ten spanks you on a sore spot, which makes your legs shake a bit as you try to hold your positioning. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Your voice trembles as you speak louder. “I promise I’ll be good, just, please…”

“Please what? Do you want to drag this out all night?”

“Please fuck me.”

There’s no concealing the groan that comes from your lips after he finally decides to settle himself inside you, especially with it being so long since you’ve felt him properly. You want to push back on him, but he holds your hips still. Your hands twist aimlessly, wishing you could feel him under your fingertips.

His first thrusts are not very fast but more forceful than anything, making your skin slap together loudly. Your forehead is shining with sweat as you try to keep your breathing even, though it’s hard to inhale properly between the noises spilling from you.

“If only the neighbors could hear you right now. Should we open the window so they can listen to you scream my name?”

“Fuck, d-don’t.” You can’t tell whether he’s being serious or not, but you don’t want to take the chance. You’re too busy savoring his deep thrusts inside you, his tip rubbing against your tender spot.

“Don’t lie.” Ten’s hand creeps to the back of your neck, tugging at your hair—only gently, though, as he knows not to go yanking shit. Still, the extra stimulation at your nape makes you cry out. “You like embarrassing me in front of the neighbors; why don’t I embarrass you?” When he quickens his pace, you find it impossible to keep quiet, begging him to please let you cum this time.

“I’m gonna come, Ten, p-please, let me…” Your words turn to babbling even as you try to keep your mind straight. The pleasure clouding your brain lessens, though, when he slows his thrusts a bit. You think he’s going to edge you again, and you nearly sob from frustration.

“Mmm….should I?” The way he moves his hips into you is fluid like water, the smooth rocking motion of it more than enough to make up for the slower pace. “Do you deserve to come?”

It takes you a few moments to get your voice stable enough to reply, especially with him still fucking into you the entire time. Your orgasm is looming on the horizon despite him insistently denying you, and you hope that he’ll give you permission. Either way, you don’t think you can hold it back anymore. “Y-yes, I’ve been a good g-girl. Just like you t-told me to. Please....”

Ten smirks from behind you, though you can’t see this. “Then let me feel you. Come on me, baby.”

His free hand slips to your clit and this is enough to tip the scales for you, a pure flood of euphoria running through your veins and enveloping your nerves. He keeps his other hand in your hair so you won’t try to muffle your noises in the pillow, and you’re left to cry and pant his name into the air, your speech quickly becoming incoherent.

Ten spills deeply into you not long after your own end, holding himself there and letting his cum paint your inner walls while a litany of pretty moans cascades from his lips. When he pulls out, he quickly pushes his fingers into you again, making you pant desperately, unsure whether to push closer to his probing hand or pull away from the overstimulation.

You don’t have to think about it too long, because he soon takes them back out and shuffles up the bed to be at eye-level with you. You let your bottom half sink back to the mattress, feeling incredibly well-fucked. While staring into your eyes, Ten pushes his wet fingers against your lips—the ones still covered in both of your fluids. You willingly accept them, and he watches as you clean everything up.

You’re getting sleepy now, and you lie prone as you let Ten untie your scarf and set your wrists free, finally. He massages the skin there, which is a little indented from the fabric. Your eyes drift closed as he does this. You don’t think of anything suspicious when you feel him turning you on your back; nor do you bother to open your eyes when you hear the bedside drawer opening.

He shuffles around on the bed some more, and it’s only when you hear a familiar buzzing do your eyes fly open. Ten sits there in front of you holding your Hitachi wand like it’s a threat.

“We’re not finished yet.”

“You can’t be serious,” you say, your heart rate picking up again as he slips his way down your body. “Ten, I don’t think I can take anymore—” Your legs shake involuntarily when he presses the round tip of the vibrator against your clit, and you gasp loudly. He situates himself neatly between your legs to keep them open as he presses two of his fingers into you. He momentarily removes them to slide them through your lower lips and across your clit, using your combined cum as lube to make the vibrator move against you more smoothly.

Soon, Ten’s back inside you like he never left, hooking his fingers into your g-spot and circling the vibrator over your clit in a tight rhythm. You grasp at the pillow and sheets beneath you, trying to hold onto some sense of stability as he pushes your oversensitive body even further. Your whole being is electrified, your hips arching and legs twisting recklessly as Ten gives you more than what you think you can handle.

The sound of him fingering you is magnified by all the slick between your legs and his own cum, and it makes a mess of the sheets as he does. He’s mostly unphased by all your moving around, keeping the vibrator on you and his index and middle fingers deep inside you as you plead for him. You try to bite your shirt to silence yourself, but it doesn’t do much good to quiet you.

Something you haven’t quite felt before rises inside you as you edge closer to yet another orgasm, and you’re a little afraid of it.

“W-wait, this feels—Oh my God, I think I’m gonna—” Fueled by your cries, Ten turns the vibrator up to its next speed, which makes your legs tense up. You’re almost crying as you cum, squeezing tightly around his fingers, except there’s more gushing out of you this time. You end up wetting his forearm and the sheets underneath you from it. 

Ten pushes his face into you to taste you, his tongue and the vibrator working you over and causing you to squirt again. You’re a little shocked and embarrassed about cumming on his face, though you don’t have too much thought to give to those emotions as you’re swept up in a slew of smaller orgasms.

You’re not entirely sure when it all ends, convinced you must’ve blacked out at some point. All you know is that your face is wet with tear-streaks and your body is saturated with tremors afterwards. Ten is face-to-face with you now, pulling a few pieces of hair away from your cheek.

“Are you still alive?” He laughs, though his voice is tender.

“...Just barely.”

Ten reaches for the nightstand again and your whole body reacts as you use what strength you have left to tug on his arm. “No!! I’m not kidding Ten, I’m going to die—”

Ten looks at you with amusement, holding a water bottle in your face. “I’m only getting this. You’re probably dehydrated...you squirted like, everywhere.”

Your skin warms at that. “Whose fault is that?” you say tiredly, glaring at him, though you accept the water when he puts the bottle to your lips.

Ten gives you a small smile and runs his finger along the bridge of your nose. “Think about that the next time you try to play a prank on me.”

[lettheladylead]

Title: Witness

Summary: Scrooge is on trial and he needs a character witness, but he's not sure how helpful she'll be. Ship: Scrooge/Goldie Word count: ~3080 Notes: I needed to write something after seeing the summary for the upcoming episode, The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29510085

-

“This trial is a sham!” Scrooge shouted, slamming his shackled fists onto the desk in front of him. “You havenae allowed me a proper lawyer or allowed anyone to testify on my behalf!”

The giant mystical judge scoffed and held the gavel in his hand, ready to use it if the duck continued yelling. Holding him in contempt of court would be an easy way to end this trial early, but he wanted to make sure Mr. McDuck paid properly for his crimes.

The prosecutor rolled his eyes and walked in front of the desk. “And whom would you have testify for you? In the High Mystical Court of Good Versus Evil, family members aren’t allowed.”

Scrooge gaped. “Not even as a character witness? I spend all my time with my family!”

The smug, suited creature shrugged at him with a smile. “Too bad, then. Looks like we’ll just have to continue listing how you’ve corrupted these fine men and women and forced them into lives of villainhood.”

The old duck seethed, grinding his teeth and considering his options. If he let the trial continue this way, his poor family up in the spectator’s seats was about to watch him get destroyed and they had yet to even discuss punishment, but Scrooge was sure it would be worse than anything he could get on Earth.

As he glanced up at his family - Donald, Della, and the boys in particular - he wondered if Webby or Twenty-Two would’ve been allowed to defend him had they been zapped here along with the rest of them. They just happened to be in the kitchen at the time of abduction and were probably losing their minds with worry. Hopefully one of the boys was able to send some sort of textual message to let them know what was going on.

At that thought, Scrooge’s eyes lingered on Louie and his phone, and a thought suddenly came to mind. It was something he wasn’t sure about...perhaps it’d be a bad idea...but he had no other options.

“I know someone!” he shouted. “I have a character witness who’s not in my family!”

The judge and prosecutor stared down with their many, many eyes - giving Scrooge an expression he could only describe as terrifying and suspicious.

“You still want to try this?” the prosecutor asked. “Alright, fine. Who is it?”

“Goldie O’Gilt.” Scrooge ignored the reactions from his family - particularly Della and Donald’s resounding ‘oh, please no’ - and hoped this would be a good choice.

The prosecutor looked up at the judge, who nodded his head and slammed his gavel down three times before snapping his fingers. “Alright.”

A few seconds passed without anything happening or anyone saying a word. Scrooge glanced from side to side. “Should you...call a recess so I can contact her?”

“That would be a waste of time,” the prosecutor said as there was suddenly a poof of purple smoke at the witness stand.

Everyone stared as the smoke dissipated to reveal one Goldie O’Gilt - currently wearing a bathrobe and her hair was down and wet and as soon as she opened her eyes she was immediately very unhappy.

“Oh, what the hell is this?” Goldie shouted, choosing to stay seated but glaring around the room. “What am I on trial for this time?”

Scrooge felt himself getting sweaty. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

“Nothing, Miss O’Gilt,” the judge said as he leaned down to look at her. “Mr. Scrooge McDuck is on trial for crimes of harassment, manipulation, and corruption against multiple innocent victims.”

Goldie blinked up at him and then turned her head to look at Scrooge.

He gave her a toothy grin and a small, nervous wave.

“So what does that have to do with me?” Goldie asked as she grabbed her hair and wrung it out onto the floor.

The prosecutor stared at the puddle of water and then glared up at their new witness. “You’ve been called as a character witness for Mr. McDuck. Now do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Scrooge dropped his head to the desk while the prosecutor and judge glanced at one another.

The bailiff walked over with a large brown book that had a giant lock around the side and was shaking a bit and making snarling sounds. Goldie raised an eyebrow as he held it towards her.

“Put your hand on this.”

Goldie grimaced. “Must I?”

“If you don’t want to testify, we can’t force you,” the prosecutor said with a pretentious glance up and down her body. “Clearly you were in the middle of something, after all.”

Goldie glared at him and in that moment decided she hated him more than she enjoyed inconveniencing Scrooge. She slapped her hand down on top of the book. “I swear to tell the truth.”

The bailiff mumbled something under his breath and then the book lit up and shone a bright light onto Goldie for a few seconds before fading away. He walked away as Goldie rubbed at her eyes.

“What was that?”

“That was a Light of Honestly,” the prosecutor said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Which means that so long as you’re at the witness stand, you’re physically incapable of lying or excluding relevant information from your statements.”

“What?!” both Goldie and Scrooge shouted at the same time. They immediately locked eyes with one another and could feel their shared nervousness almost psychically.

“Since when do you use something like that?”

“It was specifically requested and provided by one of the accusers in this case. Now, could you state your name and occupation to the court, please?”

Goldie’s left eye twitched as she squeezed the sleeves of her robes into her hands. “Goldie Kathleen O’Gilt. I…” She paused as if considering her words - or, Scrooge suspected, trying to find a way to word her lie so that it was still true. “...I own and operate a hotel.”

Scrooge’s eyes widened. She did what? He attempted to make eye contact with her so he could let her know how confusing what she just said was to him, but she was purposefully avoiding his stare.

“And how do you know Scrooge McDuck, Miss O’Gilt?”

Goldie frowned and glanced up at Scrooge before glaring at the lawyer. “He’s my…” She seemed to struggle with the words again. “...boy...friend?”

A collective groan could be heard from the duck boys in the peanut gallery while Scrooge couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face.

“Are you asking?” the judge asked sternly, leaning towards her again.

She grunted and angrily waved her hands around. “We’ve never really talked about it, alright? He’s the love of my life and we’ve been seeing each other on and off since 1897. How’s that for you?”

Scrooge was surprised not to hear another groan, and looked back to see the boys and Della looking quite touched by Goldie’s confession. They weren’t the only ones - even after their little Florida adventure, he never expected to hear those words come out of her mouth. Now he had ten times as much reason not to die right then and there.

“That’s descriptive enough, I suppose,” the prosecutor responded, clearly not recognizing or not caring about the emotional turmoil Goldie was going through after blurting that out so carelessly. “In the one hundred and twenty years you’ve known Scrooge McDuck, have you found him to be cruel?”

Scrooge stared at her pleadingly, despite knowing she physically couldn’t lie he still hoped she’d find a way to make him sound good.

Goldie brushed her fingers through her damp hair. “On occasion. But usually I was cruel to him first.”

“Usually, but not always?” the prosecutor asked, taking a look at the jury who were watching with gradually increasing interest. “So he has been cruel without provocation.”

“The first night we met involved me drugging his coffee and then him kidnapping me,” Goldie said nonchalantly, clearly starting to realize there was no fighting the Light of Honesty. “At the time I thought he was cruel, but looking back on it, I don’t mind that it happened.”

Scrooge closed his eyes and wondered what his family was thinking at that moment. He was thinking about all the different painful, mystical punishments he was going to face after Goldie destroyed his already limited chances of surviving this trial.

“Interesting. And over the years, have you witnessed Scrooge McDuck inflicting such cruelties on anyone else?”

Goldie rolled her eyes. “No. I like to think our relationship is special,” she added with a wink.

The prosecutor scoffed, annoyed by her response. “Can I assume this means your time spent with Scrooge McDuck is usually just the two of you, making you less than an expert on how he treats people he’s not having sex with?”

“Objection!” Scrooge yelled, standing up. “Curse me kilts, there are kids here!”

The judge shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

“Fine,” the prosecutor responded, putting up his hands in mock surrender. “But my question still stands.”

Goldie huffed. “Unfortunately for me, I have spent plenty of time with Scrooge’s other associates. I can’t confirm whether or not I’ve seen him around your particular accusers, but I’ve interacted with most of his enemies at one point or another.”

“...good to know,” the prosecutor said and brushed invisible dust off of his lapel. “Have you ever known Scrooge McDuck to harass others?”

“Only when they owe him money.”

“Oh? And does that happen often?”

Goldie let out a short laugh. “No one would be dumb enough to borrow from Scrooge! He adds interest even when you borrow five bucks for lunch.”

Scrooge pouted and ignored the temptation to argue that he had every right to do so.

“Have you known Scrooge McDuck to be manipulative?”

There was a pause at that question, one that filled the space between Scrooge and Goldie with a modicum of tension. “Yes.”

“...can you elaborate on that?”

Goldie sighed. “Well, he’s the richest duck in the world, a businessman, and an adventurer. You can’t be successful in any of those categories without being at least somewhat manipulative. Though he’s certainly not the most manipulative man I’ve dealt with, he’s not exactly a saint.”

Scrooge groaned and slammed his head against the desk multiple times in a row.

The blonde pouted angrily and tried to think of a way to save face. “That being said...if the accusers in question aren’t ex-business partners or fellow adventurers, I question the relevance of anything I’ve said.”

The jury seemed to find that statement interesting and the prosecutor glared angrily at Goldie for causing a stir. Scrooge lifted his head and smiled at her - now he was sure she was fighting to help him.

“I think we can allow the jury to decide the relevance of this information for themselves,” the prosecutor said with a snarl. “We don’t need any unfair extrapolation from our witnesses, Miss O’Gilt. Stick to the facts.”

Goldie let out a short, low hum and grabbed her hair to wring it out once again, getting water all over the attorney’s shoes. He gasped and stepped away from her.

“Oops!” Goldie put a hand to her beak, but offered no apology. No one needed to think twice to realize it was because she was incapable of doing so at that moment.

“Corruption is the biggest charge,” the prosecutor said matter-of-factly. “The accusers all claim that their villainy is a direct result of damages done to them, their property, or their livelihoods by Scrooge McDuck. Have you known Scrooge McDuck to be a corrupting person?”

Scrooge wondered about that charge against him in particular. He couldn’t deny that a lot of his enemies were a direct result of something he did - but it wasn’t purposeful nor was he the only person capable of causing these problems for them. If Scrooge hadn’t indirectly negatively impacted their lives, some other billionaire would’ve done it instead. It’s not like he was the only businessman-adventurer in the world.

“...yes.”

Scrooge sucked in a breath. He didn’t know what Goldie was going to say, but it couldn’t be good.

“Could you elaborate on that?”

“Not in any way that’s appropriate for the audience,” she answered with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to corrupt the kids, too, after all.”

Scrooge exhaled loudly and blushed. Alright.

The prosecutor slapped a hand against his forehead. “Not that kind of corruption!” he shouted, pointing a finger into her face and getting much too close for anyone’s comfort. “Have you witnessed Scrooge McDuck influence the life of an innocent person in a way that led to them falling down a path of villainy?”

The jury reacted more than expected to the prosecutor’s anger, whispering among themselves briefly. Scrooge and the prosecutor both looked over at the Jury Box, but Goldie kept her eyes forward.

“...not purposefully, but yes.”

The prosecutor smiled. “Ahh, well naturally, if it wasn’t on purpose, then it doesn’t matter! Is that what you’re saying?”

Goldie’s left eye twitched again. “You asked me to state facts. I stated a fact. Do you have any other dumb questions?”

He glared at her and glanced up at the judge, who was leaning on his hand and watching their discussion closely. “I want to summarize what you’ve told us so far, Miss O’Gilt.”

“According to you, Scrooge McDuck may not be prone to harassment, but he is often cruel, fairly manipulative, and has been known to corrupt innocent people to villainy. Is that all correct?”

She frowned and tapped her fingers against her leg. “That’s all accurate to what I’ve said here, yes.”

The prosecutor turned back to look at Scrooge, whose expression could only be described as defeated. “Some character witness you’ve found yourself, Mr. McDuck.”

“Stick to the witness, Prosecutor,” the judge said quickly, holding up his gavel.

“Yes, Your Honor,” the prosecutor responded, moving back towards Goldie again. “Now, Miss O’Gilt, based on what you’ve told us here, Scrooge McDuck is not a nice man nor is he a noble man. Yet you referred to him as the, quote, love of your life, unquote. This leads me to believe that you, yourself, may not be a nice or noble person, either.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”

“If anyone has any doubts as to whether or not Scrooge McDuck is a cruel, manipulative person capable of horrible deeds, we need look no further than the fact that his girlfriend here is similarly cruel, manipulative, and as many of us here are already aware - a criminal.”

There were gasps among the crowd and the jury - the prosecutor turned his head towards them as he continued. “Yes, everyone, Miss O’Gilt here is actually quite familiar with the inside of this courtroom. She’s been on trial dozens of times over the past one hundred years for theft of mystical artifacts from every dimension and realm you can think of.”

Scrooge closed his eyes again and started counting. Perhaps if he did this long enough, he’d wake up from this nightmare he found himself trapped in.

Goldie, on the other hand, was unperturbed. “Been on trial, but never been convicted. Who’s the one bringing up irrelevant information now?”

“I simply thought it was important for our jury to be aware of the witness’ extracurricular activities.”

“The activities you have no evidence of,” Goldie said sternly. She glanced up at the judge. “I believe your prosecutor is harassing me when all I’ve done is comply with every question I’ve been asked both here and at previous trials.”

The judge considered this for a moment and looked down at the prosecutor. “She has a point. Was she convicted of any of the crimes you’re accusing her of?”

The prosecutor frowned. “No, but-”

“But nothing,” the judge said as he slammed down his gavel again. “You will move on from this statement of irrelevant accusations or I will have you replaced with another attorney.”

“...yes, Your Honor,” the prosecutor said with a bow, glaring at Goldie.

She smiled back at him, then glanced at Scrooge and blew him a kiss.

======

After court was adjourned and Scrooge’s handcuffs were finally removed after all those hours of magical metal chafing against his feathers, he spent an enjoyable few minutes being congratulated by his family before Goldie stepped out of the courtroom and stared at them.

“Um...Uncle Scrooge?” Louie said, tugging at his uncle’s sleeve.

“Yes, lad?”

“I think Aunt Goldie wants to talk to you.”

Scrooge considered taking a moment to discuss that nickname with his nephew, but Goldie’s presence distracted him enough that he simply turned around and walked towards her.

“You really saved me in there, O’Gilt,” Scrooge said softly as he reached down and grabbed one of her hands.

Goldie shrugged and squeezed his hand back. “Well it wasn’t like I could let them throw you in interdimensional prison. They don’t have conjugal visits, you know.”

He blushed and pulled his hand away. “Must you always be so inappropriate?!”

“Not always,” Goldie said as she took a step closer to him. “Just with you.”

Scrooge felt his heart racing and couldn’t help the nervous smile that came back to his face. “...I would’ve thought you’d run out of here as fast as possible after what you said.”

She played with her hair for a bit, roughly running her fingers through the knots that had formed since the judge had summoned her from her bathroom before she’d had a chance to brush. “It’s not like I said anything you didn’t already know.”

He smiled brighter and leaned forward to press a quick kiss against her beak; a disgusted groan sounded from behind him that he was pretty sure was Louie’s. “Is the judge sendin’ you back home?”

“After I’m done with you, yes.”

Scrooge grabbed her hands again. “How about you come to the mansion instead, dear?”

Goldie breathed out a laugh. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not wearing anything under this robe and I’d kind of like to do something with my hair before it knots into a nest.”

“I’ve got some of your clothes,” Scrooge said quickly. “And showers. Towels. Hair brushes. Anythin’ you need.”

She raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Scrooge’s family who were all pretending not to pay attention to them. “Well...I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

You were asking for more AU requests so I'm here to deliver: Fostercare AU. That's it.

It's just always SBI so we gotta change that up sometimes, right?

There’s still some SBI in here I couldn’t resist sorry lol.

Tommy's been in many strange “homes,” but this new one might take the cake. It was one of the big ones, the ones that either had a ton of kids or one of the rich bastards who were trying to look good by taking in a problem child. Either way, he was prepared for the type that just ignored him until he acted out bad enough, then hit him and shouted and sent him to some other poor bastard. That was just the way things are.

His new “caretaker,” if anything, didn’t ignore Tommy enough. And it wasn’t in the demanding perfect obedience and respect way or anything. He let Tommy call him by his name (Dream, apparently, Tommy supposes the poor bastard had hippie parents), he didn’t clap Tommy round the ear when he swore or spoke back, he just laughed and ruffled his hair.

He’d hoped, naively, it was like the one home he hated when he had to leave. It was a weird one too, with a tired-eyed adult with cool looking prosthetics who wore a fisherman hat and always said he was a fisherman but never went near the water the whole time Tommy was there, an albino man who dyed his hair bright pink and wore thick glasses and sometimes came home drenched in blood, a wide eyed musician teen who always smelt of chemicals and kept his baby daughter close to his chest at all time. The fact they ended up in prison wasn’t really a surprise, but he still missed them. They cared.

Things got weird quick enough he got rid of that thought quickly. Tommy woke up sometimes to seeing Dream watching him sleep. The food was always weirdly bitter, probably due to the weird spices and shit rich people had. Tommy was always constantly tired, and he kept falling asleep at the table without even realising it. Dream had immediately decided to homeschool him, and ever since then Tommy hadn’t even left the house once.

The other shoe finally dropped when Dream found a photograph with him and a school friend long ago (he still hoped Tubbo was doing well, whatever was going on in the years since). Dream had asked, voice chillingly cold, for him to hand over the photo, holding a lighter.

Tommy glared at him. “No.”

“No?” Dream frowned. “Well, I’ll have to take it myself.”

One second, Tommy was curled to the wall, next his head was ringing, driven hard into the plaster, and Tommy was staring ahead, dazed, as Dream burnt the last remnants of an old friend in front of him.

After, Dream held him close, put an ice pack to the bruising he'd caused, gently wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” Dream murmured, as Tommy drifted off into sudden sleep. “But you’re mine, and mine alone.”

The next day, Dream was back to acting like everything was normal. He’d furrowed his brow in confusion when Tommy had mentioned the photograph, saying Tommy had never had a photograph to begin with. Tommy was far too tired to argue.

Things only got weirder from there. Tommy started falling asleep more often, and feeling incredibly out of it constantly in the small amount of time he was awake. The curtains were always closed, and Tommy was sure the house used to have clocks at some point. Dream started picking out Tommy's clothes, styling his hair. Tommy was never allowed to leave Dream's side for even a second. Even when Tommy went to sleep, he woke up in Dream's room, Dream sleeping on the floor.

One day, Tommy was curled up on the sofa with Dream, eyes barely open while “watching” the news, when he noticed some familiar faces out of the corner of his eyes. “Oh! I know them.” he slurred out, without thinking.

Dream gave Tommy one of the weird looks that meant Tommy was going to be in Big Trouble. “You do?”

Tommy refused to answer, looking at the headline. “Feared “SBI” Criminal Kingpins Escape Prison.” Dream slapped him, but Tommy was barely even focusing even as he felt the blood from his nose dripping down his face. He’d already said too much. Besides, he was so, so, tired…

When he next woke up, he was on an plane. When he opened his mouth, he felt the sharp shock of a syringe through his shoulder, and he fell back asleep again, terrified and alone, hoping that somehow his family- his real family- could save him.

If anyone else wants to send in some more AU ideas it’d be lovely and I will make them heavily involve c!primeboys no matter what and again that’s a challenge.

[artificialqueens]

Thrill Me, Chill Me, Fulfill Me, Chapter 2/10: Vaginal (Gottrosenali) - Writworm42

A/N: Continuing down the list--vaginal orgasm! This refers to orgasms achieved via penetration without direct/targeted stimulation to the g-spot.

As per usual, disclaimer: THIS FIC IS NOT SEX ED. It may be based on an infographic but it is NOT educational, it is FICTION!!!! If you want more info on anything in the fic, I recommend visiting scarleteen, it's a fantastic resource.

Thank you Holtz for beta-ing <3 <3 <3

“What do you mean you’ve never been fucked with a strap?”

Rosé shrinks under Denali and Mik’s gaze, cheeks burning scarlet as their mouths gape in shock at her. It wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal; just an offhand comment while they were cuddling, wondering out loud how it felt to be on the receiving end of the strap she so enjoyed using with her partners. She hadn’t expected Denali and Mik to react like this, to literally push themselves up to stare at her, completely flabbergasted.

“I just like wearing them so much, I never got around to actually being fucked with one,” she justifies, trying to sound as casual as possible, though she knows from the way both Mik and Denali soften that she’s not as successful at that as she was hoping. But that’s the truth, as dumb as it sounds; she’s always enjoyed wearing the strap so much that by the time she takes it off, she’s content with something else. It’s easier that way; no need to switch things around, stop to change condoms or re-fasten the strap.

Not to mention the small part of her that’s sort of relieved that she hasn’t tried, because if she has no feeling to reference, then she won’t have a reason to spend time fixating on whether she measures up to it or not; if she doesn’t have a standard in mind, then she can settle on taking Denali & Mik’s word for it that she’s any good. Like right now, for instance, when Denali is reaching out to grab Rosé’s hand and give it a kind squeeze.

“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with that,” the blonde reassures her, “It’s just that you’re so good at it, it’s hard to believe, that’s all.”

“Seriously, I’m like, so shook right now,” Mik agrees. It’s flattering, really, and for a moment, Rosé thinks the compliment is where things will end; deciding that they want her to keep being the one to wear the strap, that as long as she’s so good at it, there’s no need to switch things up.

Of course, she should’ve known both Mik and Denali better than to actually believe that.

“So, follow up question,” Denali’s brow knits into a frown as she looks Rosé up and down, locking eyes with her again before proposing, “Do you want to try getting fucked with a strap?”

“Not that you should feel pressured!” Mik interjects, casting a sidelong warning look at Denali. “We’re just wondering, are you ever like, curious? About what it feels like? ‘Cause we’re both pretty good too, I think--”

“Wow, you think?” Denali interjects, huffing indignantly. “Nice, Mik. Real nice.”

“You know what I mean.” Mik rolls his eyes theatrically, only to shriek when Denali decides to get revenge by jabbing him hard in the side.

“The point is, Rosé--”

“What I meant to say before Denali interrupted me--”

“No, let me ask!”

“Me!”

“Enough, both of you!” Rosé tries to sound stern, but has to pinch her own thigh to keep from laughing. She swears that sometimes, it’s like dating two toddlers; Denali and Mik freeze mid-spar, Denali’s hands halfway to Mik’s shoulders as if she’s preparing to push him down and slap a hand over his mouth so she could beat him to the punch by force. Which, judging from the way she slowly lowers her arms with a sheepish look in her eyes, is exactly what she was planning to do.

God.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” Rosé crosses her arms over her chest, “So one of you just get it over with already.”

Mercifully, Mik relents without a fight, sitting back on his heels as Denali scoots forward towards Rosé.

“Rosie. My beloved.” She slaps her hands over Rosé’s cheeks, cupping her face as she continues, “Next time we have sex, if you’re feeling it…” she pauses for effect, locking eyes with Rosé before continuing gravely, “Will you let us stick our dicks in your hole?”

“Or holes!” Mik interjects. “If you’re into that.”

“Jesus Christ.” Rosé groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. Clowns, absolute clowns, the both of them. But despite her exasperation, neither Denali nor Mik seem particularly deterred; if anything, they become more expectant, Mik leaning in excitedly and Denali’s eyes taking on a further intensity as both of them wait for Rosé’s answer.

“Yes,” she finally sighs, rolling her eyes. “Yes, you can stick your… you can stick your dicks into my--my… God, I can’t believe I’m saying this-- hole . You can stick your dicks in my hole.”

When both of them begin to cheer in response, Rosé can’t help but wonder what the Hell she’s gotten herself into.

--

As it turns out, it’s almost two weeks until they actually wind up using the strap at all. It’s not that they don’t want to; in reality, the whole situation is out of their control. Things get busy at work for Mik, and Rosé has three auditions she needs to prepare for and recover from, and Denali is always so tired after practices these days that even if Mik and Rosé have the inclination to run to bed, it’s already taken up by her collapsed, already-sleeping body. In any case, sex--whether it involves dicking Rosé down or not--is the last thing on their minds in that time period.

At least, it’s the last thing on Denali and Mik’s minds, as far as Rosé knows. The truth is, while they’ve been occupying themselves with other things, Rosé’s mind has stayed on its usual one-track, their earlier conversation and the promises Mik and Denali had made playing in her mind over and over again. She finds herself drifting into fantasies even when she’s supposed to be focusing on something else, until by the end of their impromptu sex break, she finds herself almost constantly on edge, increasingly restless thanks to the thoughts that never quite seem to leave her head.

Thoughts like Mik kneeling over her wearing his strap, stroking the length of it as he trails his eyes over her body, delaying touching her knowing that any second, she’ll break and beg for it. Or Denali sliding into her while her mouth is latched to one of Rosé’s nipples, sucking and licking and making her come totally undone. Swallowing the length of it while Mik’s hand is tangled in her hair, or listening to Denali huff as she snaps her hips up against Rosé’s. How a strap might feel different from fingers, and exactly how Denali or Mik might make her thighs tremble, might fuck her so hard she can’t walk.

It’s a rainy Friday night when her dreams finally come to fruition. Dark clouds had been looming over the city for the last few days, and everyone had been waiting for the sky to unleash the storm they had been sure was coming. There’s no real warning, no initial spitting or dampness in the air; the sky had gone dark and let loose thunder, lightning, and a torrential downpour.

Given that, it’s no surprise that the power goes out less than thirty minutes later.

“Did you find the candles yet?” Rosé calls over to Denali, squinting through the darkness to watch her girlfriend scour the kitchen cabinets.

��� Did you find the candles yet?” Denali mocks as she whips around and shines her flashlight right in Rosé’s eyes, scowling at the two people piled on the couch. “It’d be a lot easier if you two bums helped, you know.”

“I can’t get up, I have a Mik on my lap,” Rosé hums, the shit-eating grin spreading on her face spurred on by Mik giggling at the comment.

“And what’s his excuse?” Denali snorts, pointing her chin towards the man nestled up against Rosé.

“I’m huddling with Rosie for warmth!”

“And I’m very grateful,” Rosé pats Mik’s head, winking over at Denali, who huffs and grumbles something under her breath before turning back to her search. Finally, she finds what she’s looking for, and soon the living room is littered with candles that light the room in a soft glow.

It would almost be romantic, if it weren’t for the way Mik’s elbow is digging into Rosé’s ribs.

“So what now?” Denali shoves Rosé over, jostling Mik and dislodging his elbow in the process as she grabs Rosé around the waist, pulling her in while she settles. Rosé doesn’t particularly mind, though; Mik shifts closer, too, and it’s nice, getting to be in the middle of the cuddle-pile.

That is, until she feels something against her leg, and realizes with a jolt that Mik’s hips have started to squirm against it, her calf having unwittingly slipped between his legs.

“It hasn’t even been ten seconds,” she snorts, but when Mik looks up at her, there’s an almost pitiful desperation in his eyes, hunger and eagerness obvious even in the near-darkness.

“I can’t help it,” he whines, “It’s been so long…”

Without even meaning to, Rosé presses her leg up against her boyfriend a little more firmly, hardly noticing the fact that for just a moment, she loses her breath completely.

“What’s the matter?” Rosé savours the way Mik sighs out shakily, eyes closing as he chases the pressure she’s applying. “Can’t keep it in your pants anymore?”

“I think that means he’s been a good boy, Rosie.” Denali’s breath tickles at Rosé’s ear, and for a moment, she stops, frowning as she tries to figure out what Denali could possibly mean before it clicks suddenly.

“Not at all?” Rosé's eyes widen in surprise, and Mik’s blush becomes so fierce, she swears she can almost feel it from her place on the couch.

At least she’s jerked off a couple times in the last two weeks, when she’d been alone in the apartment and too horny to wait; she’d naturally assumed that Denali and Mik had done the same. Unless…

“Strap feels good against me,” Mik provides simply, grinding down against Rosé’s leg a little harder, “not enough to come, usually, but I thought…” he clears his throat, and Rosé has to stop herself from leaning forward to kiss the embarrassment from his face. “I wanted to save it for when we--when you--”

“What d’you say we take this to the bedroom, yeah?” Denali proposes, her hands sliding home to Rosé’s chest and palming her tits through her shirt. “I think Mik might explode if we keep him waiting any longer.”

Rosé moves so fast, she’s surprised she doesn’t accidentally knock over a candle.

It’s almost pitch-black in their bedroom, but Rosé finds that she doesn’t particularly care. As soon as they’ve crossed the threshold into the room, they go purely by feel, falling back onto the bed in a giggly, excited mess. Mik’s hands find their way to Rosé’s waist, his fingers splaying over her sides and nails digging in as Denali’s mouth meets Rosé’s own in a deep, perfect kiss. By the time Mik’s lips latch onto her neck, she can barely keep it together; she needs more, and she needs it now.

“Please,” Rose moans into Denali, who smirks against her lips.

“Please what, baby?” Denali plays dumb, biting down a little on her lip as Mik escalates his own teasing, licking and nipping up to her jaw, his hands wandering down to play with the hem of her shirt.

Fuck.

“More…”

It’s all Rosé can muster, but it’s enough; frantic hands begin to move over her body, tugging and grasping and peeling her clothes away until she’s in nothing but her underwear, Denali’s hands cupping her tits through her bra and Mik’s mouth marking her collarbone.

“Still up to taking my cock, angel?” Mik’s voice drips with hunger and need, but Rosé can hear the concern behind it, the need to hear that Rosé is still open to trying something new. But Rosé doesn’t even need to think before she nods, squirming with anticipation.

“I’m ready,” she breathes, locking eyes with her boyfriend and mirroring the want she finds in his own. “ Please .”

Mik answers her only with a chaste kiss on the lips before slipping away to get everything prepped.

“I want this off,” Denali brings Rosé’s attention away from Mik with a firm squeeze to her tits before one hand drops below the cup, a lazy finger tracing over the underwire.

Rosé wastes no time in granting the request, shimmying out of her bra and sighing in relief when Denali responds by latching her mouth onto one of Rosé’s nipples, tongue gentle and teasing. Not that she can focus on Denali’s ministrations for long--before she has a chance to lose herself in the feeling of Denali nipping and sucking on the hardened bud, she notices the bed dip and shift as Mik climbs back on, bottle of lube in hand. And the sight of Mik with a harness fastened tight on his hips, his favourite realistic cock waiting between his legs?

Rosé can’t think of a single thing she’d rather see right now.

“Can I--” she starts to reach forward before freezing, suddenly becoming aware of the bemused twinkle in Mik’s eyes as he watches her reaction. Denali picks up on it, too, and takes the opportunity to ghost a finger along the curve of Rosé’s spine, humming with satisfaction when Rosé shivers.

“Can you what, angel?” Denali teases, the hand on her back moving down again to rest on her ass. “Go on, don’t be shy. Tell daddy what you want.”

“Can…can I--” Rosé starts, but it’s too difficult; looking from the strap to the bottle in Mik’s hand back up to his cocky smirk, her embarrassment overtakes her, and she looks at him with pleading eyes, burning face a cry for help.

“Put your hand out, baby,” he softens, taking pity on her, and she smiles gratefully as she obeys, letting him squirt a generous amount of lube into her palm so that she can stroke it on for him, the mess covering her hand when she finally finishes well worth the lingering sensation of the toy in her grip. She wipes the excess lube off on her bare stomach, then scoots back, fitting straight into Denali’s waiting arms.

“Hips up,” Mik continues directing as Denali’s hands find their way back onto Rosé’s tits from behind, deft fingers circling and pinching while Rosé lets Mik slide her panties down and throw them aside.

“Think you can take daddy already, or do you need fingers first?” Denali whispers into Rosé’s ear before planting a soft kiss on her temple, and for a moment, Rosé pauses, frowning as she considers her options. The strap doesn’t look that thick, and Rosé trusts Mik to be gentle, to go slow and check in often. But at the same time, there’s a reason Denali asked; what if it really is different, and it hurts?

“Relax,” Denali cuts off Rosé’s spiral with a hand snaking down to her slit, playing with her folds gently to bring her out of her own head, focus on something else instead. “You have nothing to worry about, ‘kay?”

“We can go as slow as you want,” Mik adds with a soft, reassuring smile, and Rosé nods, letting out a shaky breath.

“Wanna feel you,” she decides. “Please, daddy.”

Mik says nothing, only leans forward to kiss Rosé sweetly, but she swears she can taste excitement on his lips.  But the moment is over as soon as it began; Mik pulls away and gets to work lining himself up with Rosé’s cunt, flashing her one last lopsided smile before he begins to ease himself in.

“How’s that feel, angel?” he starts to thrust in and out shallowly, slowly, and Rosé has to admit--her boyfriend wasn’t lying when he said he was good. Between his teasing and Denali continuing to play with her nipples, craning down to kiss the curve of her neck, Rosé can’t help but squirm, chase Mik’s dick with her hips while pushing her chest up into Denali’s hands. But it’s to no avail; they both keep up the cruel game, working her up and practically radiating glee as she gets closer and closer to unravelling.

That is, until Denali brings a sharp slap to her tits, and she’s jerked out of her trance by the realization that she still hasn’t answered her boyfriend.

“Focus, baby girl,” she murmurs, “Use your words and tell daddy how you feel.”

“Good,” she breathes, “Feels good, daddy, so fucking good— ah,” she cuts off with a gasp as Mik speeds up a little, thrusting a little deeper as he smiles down at her approvingly.

“Good girl.”

Rosé has to admit--now that she’s actually on the receiving end on her lover’s strap, she gets the hype. Mik’s pace is relentless, yet fluid, the rhythm of his thrusts unbroken even when he leans down to attach his lips to her neck. His hands tighten around Rosé’s hips, grip bruising as it pulls her closer still, allowing him to hit exactly where he needs to. And Denali, in the meanwhile?

“God, I wish you could see yourself,” Denali’s voice is low in Rosé’s ear, hands traveling down her sides and nails scratching along her skin. “So pretty right now, our pretty little mess.”

As if to further tease Rosé, Denali brings one of her hands down between the redhead’s legs, laughing when Rosé immediately cries out in shock and overstimulation when Denali begins to circle Rosé’s clit with far-too-gentle fingers. But her moans turn into whines of protest when just as fast, Denali takes her fingers back again, this time bringing them to Rosé’s lips for her to suck into her mouth.

“There we go, good girl,” she purrs as Rosé licks the taste of herself from Denali’s fingertips. “See how wet you are, sweetheart? Poor baby,” she laughs a little, her other hand’s touch becoming soft on her waist as she teases, “can’t even control yourself, can you?”

Rosé can’t answer; she’s too far gone, too lost in the dizzying task of trying to take in every feeling, process everything being done to her. It’s a fact that neither Mik nor Denali fail to notice, but it’s Mik that finally says something after a few more moments of torment, his voice dripping with condescension as he goes in for the kill.

“You take daddy’s cock so well, baby,” he murmurs against her collarbone. “Doing so good for us.”

He moves one hand from her hip to her jaw, tipping her chin up to kiss him languidly, and fuck, she can’t hold on much longer, not when Denali’s hands are stroking the insides of her thighs and Mik’s tongue is against hers and all she wants is more.

“Please,” Rosé musters up all the strength she can to force the plea out, eyes screwing shut in effort, “Please, please let me come, please, I need to come, please!”

“Go ahead, angel,” Mik gives her one more sweet kiss before making one last particularly hard thrust, and that pushes her over the edge.

Rosé’s orgasm crashes over her all at once, knocking the air from her lungs and making the world spin. Mik fucks her through her orgasm, Denali whispering sweet praises all the while, and slowly, she comes down again, still feeling like she’s floating on air.

“How d’you feel, gorge?” Mik looks at Rosé with concern as he pulls out, and it’s cute, the little flash of insecurity that Rosé catches in his eyes. She laughs, opening her arms to beckon Mik towards her.

“I feel amazing.”

Mik beams as he shimmies out of the strap, crawling up towards Rosé and making room for himself between her and Denali. But as he does, he accidentally brushes himself against Rosé’s thigh, and the little gasp he lets out alerts her to something that isn’t quite right.

He’s wet, and swollen, and Rosé realizes with a jolt that she hadn’t heard him come like he thought he might.

She looks over at Denali, tipping her head towards Mik suggestively. The blonde frowns in confusion for just a moment before her face lights up in understanding, and she smiles as she puts a hand over Mik’s thigh, licking her lips when Rosé does the same on his other side.

“Open your legs, baby boy,” Rosé murmurs, kissing the blush that’s already burning at his cheeks. “It’s time for me to thank you.”

[adenei]

Hiiii! Promt # 1 - angst 6 (Could you have Ron tell Hermione?), 14 and 18, and thank you very much in advance!

Hi anon! Sorry this one took me so long. The idea was there, but the execution was slowwwww.

Here’s an HBP AU of what could have happened had Ron and Hermione hashed things out immediately following the infamous Ron & Ginny row.

*******************

Lies

Hermione looked up as she heard the portrait hole open. Ron stormed in looking livid. He made eye contact with her for a split second and then looked away as if he were about to head up the stairs.

“Ron, what’s wrong?” she asked as she stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in.

“Oh, like you don’t already know?” he spat at her.

“Um, no actually I don’t, that’s why I’m asking..” Hermione said. She was trying to think what could have been done or said for him to be acting this way. Other than a bad practice, that was. They were fine earlier.

“Yeah, sure. I know you’re lying to me again. Why can’t you just tell me the truth for once?” His face was getting redder and redder by the second.

The words felt like a slap to Hermione’s face, and her temper began to rise at an alarming rate. “Last I checked, I do tell you the truth. You’re the one sputtering about something that I have no knowledge of. If you want answers, then ask me. I will not stand here and be wrongly accused of something!”

“You lied to me about Krum! You told Harry and Ginny, but apparently didn’t think I needed to know!” Harry chose the wrong moment to enter the portrait hole. He must have been waiting to avoid this.

Hermione shot Harry a confused and hurt look. “What’s he on about?”

Harry shook his head. “He got in a row with Ginny. I’m not getting involved.”

Hermione looked positively exasperated with Harry before rounding back on Ron. “Please, enlighten me about Krum! What have you learned about me that even I don’t know about myself?!” Her voice was becoming dangerously high.

Ron didn’t respond to her. He just shook his head and turned around to head up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

“Don’t you dare walk away from this!” she screeched. 

When he made no signs of stopping or turning around, Hermione went after him. By the time she reached the foot of the stairs, his long legs had already carried him out of sight. She ran up the flights of stairs and pushed the door open with a little too much force. He was kicking his shoes off next to his bed when she stomped in.

“This is not over. You need to tell me what it’s about right now,” she said hotly.

“And why should I do that?” Ron snapped back. Why couldn’t he make this easier?

“Because I deserve to know!” Hermione stamped her foot on the ground.

“Oh,” Ron chortled, “You deserve to know?”

“Seeing as how it concerns me, yes! You don’t get to just be mad at someone for a reason unbeknownst to them!”

“How about you stop using words that sound like you’re better than me. Vicky’s not here to impress,” Ron spat.

Hermione stared at him, her fists clenching in anger. “What is it about Viktor this time? I thought we were past this!”

Ron snorted, “I did too, until you decided not to tell me that you snogged him.”

“What?” Hermione froze, her face blank as she tried to process his words.

“You heard me.”

“Well, it’s not like anyone else ever showed an interest in me!” she said, her anger starting to bubble up from her stomach again. “And it’s not lying if it never came up!”

“That’s beside the point.” Ron waved it off.

“It most certainly is not! And for your information, Harry only knows because he walked in on Ginny grilling me about it when we were at Grimmauld Place. Why are you so put off about it anyways?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Not important.”

“Then why is it bothering you so much?” They had both been shouting at each other.

“Forget it, Hermione! Unless you have any other lies left to tell me,” he said with a scowl.

“No! Not until this gets set straight! What would I have to lie to you about?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Viktor probably wasn’t available for Sluggy’s party so you invited me out of pity,” Ron said coolly.

“Pity? PITY?” Hermione had never been so annoyed and hurt in her life.

“Yeah, Hermione, pity! I’m sure you feel bad that you and Harry get to go to all his little tea parties, and thought, ‘oh, this is the only chance for Ron to join us. I guess I better invite him,’” he said in a voice that poorly mocked her own.

Blood was pounding in Hermione’s head. She was sure her face was as red as it felt hot, and she didn’t care about holding back anymore. “Well, when you put it like that, maybe that does make more sense than PUTTING MYSELF OUT THERE AND ASKING MY BEST FRIEND OUT ON A DATE!” 

Hermione was breathing so heavily that her chest was heaving up and down. She had no idea how loud she’d gotten, and the adrenaline was pumping so hard she didn’t even realize what she’d just said. All she cared about was making Ron see the idiocy in the way he sounded. Even if it meant revealing more information than she’d intended.

The silence was almost more deafening than their shouts. She was waiting for him to yell back at her, and was taken aback when his words were much softer, and the anger all but gone. “It is a date?” 

Despite his sudden change of demeanor, Hermione still remained haughty. “That was my intention, yes.”

“So Viktor wasn’t your first choice?” he asked again, but much calmer this time.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but only air came out as her head shook at the ridiculousness of his words. “He was never my first choice. Not for the Yule Ball, not for who I wanted to spend my summer with, and certainly not now!”

They were quietly staring at each other. Neither daring to move. Hermione had all but confessed to him how she felt, and yet she was still no closer to confirming or denying if he felt the same way. “So, I haven’t buggered this up so much that you’d take back your invitation, have I?”

She raised eyebrows as she set her hands on her hips. “Are you going to continue accusing me of lying to you?”

“No,” he said sheepishly.

Hermione chanced taking a few steps closer to him. “Next time, can you just ask me about something instead of blowing up at me for no reason?”

He grinned lopsidedly as Hermione’s heart melted. “What would be the fun in that?”

She noticed he’d taken a few steps closer, too. She looked up at him through her lashes. He was close enough to touch now. I could think of a few other things, she thought, but was too afraid to say.

“Sorry. It was just a shit practice.”

“I figured,” Hermione said.

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “And then Harry and I ran into Ginny and Dean snogging in the shortcut behind the tapestry and my temper got the best of me.”

“Well, maybe you should find other ways to expel your energy,” she commented nonchalantly.

“Any suggestions?” he asked. 

His voice had suddenly gotten lower, which caused Hermione to involuntarily inch even closer to him. Her fingers accidentally grazed his and it felt like an electric shock shot straight through her. She tilted her head up to respond to him, but when their eyes met, her vocabulary became blank. All she could focus on was the way those blue eyes were seemingly staring deep into her soul. The sweat and dirt and grime that no doubt still covered him from practice made no difference to her in this moment.

Hermione’s eyes fluttered down to his lips, where she could feel his shallow, quick breaths against her cheek. They were mere centimeters apart now. All she had to do was lean in and-. She felt her heavy eyelids close as her lips grazed his. More was the only word her brain could compute. 

They hovered there because despite wanting more, Hermione still wasn’t certain what Ron wanted. She knew the choice between taking a chance or remaining where it was comfortable was hers to make. Hermione felt her body lean in of its own accord, now firmly pressing her lips against his. She held her breath as they remained connected, waiting for him to make his move.

The anticipation was becoming too much, but just when Hermione was about to break away, she felt his hands slide onto her hips, pulling her closer so that their bodies now touched. To Hermione’s amazement, Ron continued the kiss, albeit timidly, and her heart burst with joy. If he hadn’t had a strong grip on her, her legs probably would have collapsed.

It’d been so long since she had done this with someone that she wasn’t exactly sure if she was doing it right. Then again, it’d only been a couple times, and she’d followed Viktor’s lead. She always broke it off because it was too much, and it wasn’t fair to him. This was different. Clumsy as though it felt, she didn’t want to stop. They only broke apart because they thought they heard voices in the stairwell.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, still embracing, when Ron said, “I should, er, probably get cleaned up.”

“Oh, okay,” Hermione said as her face blushed.

“We can, er, talk or whatever after if you want?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, I’d like that. I’ll, um, meet you back in the common room?” Hermione reluctantly stepped back, losing the connection between them as Ron nodded.

They both smiled shyly at each other as Hermione backed away slowly and Ron eventually moved out of his stupor to get things from his trunk. She turned and made her way out of the door. When she turned to start down the steps, she noticed a very guilty Harry and Ginny standing just outside the door.

She stopped and stared at them, and opened her mouth to speak. “What are you-. Nevermind, I don’t want to know.” Hermione simply shook her head and continued on her way. She really didn’t care what they were planning, and she was happy they hadn’t interrupted anything.

Ginny gave Harry a contemptuous look before saying, “See, Potter? They seem to have sorted things out on their own for once, and it looks as if whatever I said must have pushed them in the right direction.” Ginny gave him a smug look as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and began walking back down the stairs, leaving Harry completely gobsmacked.

[pindaleng]

Merry Pitchmas @anotherbechloeshipper !!

Had so much fun writing this one, hope you enjoy it :)

Title: In From the Snow

Pairing: Bechloe

Chapters: 1/1

Wordcount: 2943

Summary: Beca didn’t anticipate making many friends her freshman year, much less become best friends with one Chloe Beale. When a snow storm ruins both their plans to travel home, they get to spend some quality time together. Beca thinks this might be her best chance to tell the other girl how she feels.

Read on AO3 or below.

Beca stared gloomily at the large flakes falling outside her dorm window.

There was no way her old Camry would be able drive more than ten miles an hour in these conditions. The forecast said “heavy snow”, but she didn’t realize it’d be this bad.

She totally would have left a few days earlier if she didn’t have a final scheduled for the absolute last day of the semester. It’s not like she was super excited about heading back home either, but she knew her dad and step mom would give her shit for it.

She sighed. Might as well text them now to rip off that band-aid.

Shortly after she sent the message, she heard a knock on her opened door.

“Hey, you’re still here!”

In the doorway stood Chloe Beale, undoubtedly the coolest person on their dorm floor. Beca (to her surprise) got along with most of the people on her floor, but something about Chloe specifically drew her in.

Admittedly, she found the other girl annoying at first, as she seemed like the high school girls that were fake nice just to talk about you behind your back. She soon learned, though, that Chloe was the real deal.

But not of course before giving her a hard time for a couple of months. Frustratingly, but thankfully, Chloe was incredibly persistent. Beca hadn’t really expected to make so many friends, intending to keep her head down and make her way through, but everyone grew on her. Especially Chloe.

“Yeah, unfortunately still here.” Beca replied. “Wanted to drive out today but doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen.”

Chloe invited herself in and hopped onto Beca’s bed. She hummed in understanding. “I just got back from the store and driving was for sure a struggle. Definitely would not recommend.”

“Great. You’re staying here too, then?”

“Yep! Which means you get to spend time with little ol’ me.” She propped her head on her hands. “Any plans for the day?”

There wasn’t really a Plan B since she didn’t expect her driving-back-home Plan A to not work out. “Not really, probably just gonna work on some mixes.”

“Can I join?”

“Yes, please make it a little less sad that I’m stuck here on Christmas Eve.”

“Sweet, I’ll be back.” Chloe slid off the bed and make her way out the room. “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Beca just rolled her eyes and started setting up her laptop.

Chloe came back moments later with her sketchbook and colored pencils, and settled on Beca’s roommate’s bed. Both of them were friends with Stacie, so they knew she wouldn’t mind her bed being used.

They passed time peacefully like this for a couple of hours, each doing their separate thing.

Beca was so engrossed in her music that she doesn’t notice Chloe call out her name until the other girl waved at her to get her attention.

She slipped off her headphones. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking about getting some food soon. You in?”

The hunger hit her stomach now that food was mentioned. “Yeah, I could eat. Where at?” Though the dorms stayed open, dining halls were closed. There were plenty of places nearby though, and many of whom delivered. They went back and forth suggesting restaurants until Chloe looked like she had an epiphany. “We should go to that new ramen place!”

Beca’s immediate reaction was to pout, as they didn’t deliver. Chloe laughed.

“Oh come on, it’s a five minute walk, max. You big baby.” Chloe playfully poked her cheek. “Plus it’s super pretty outside.”

“And it’s super warm inside.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m going with or without you.”

The ultimatum was effective. Beca grumbled but put her coat on anyways. The reluctance was really just all show, as she would probably walk naked into a freezing lake for the other girl.

Snow was steadily falling outside, blanketing all the surfaces in a thick layer of white. Campus was quiet, as most of the students had already left for the holidays. It was both eerie and calming. The absence of drunk frat guys yelling, though, was definitely a plus.

“Okay I admit, it is pretty outside.” But you’re prettier. The automatic thought was so cheesy she almost threw up a bit in her mouth. Since when did she think such gross things? She could practically see Stacie smirking annoyingly at her.

Chloe grinned in victory, and Beca’s heart swooped.

Her brain definitely wasn’t lying though: Chloe was undoubtedly beautiful. The snowflakes in Chloe’s hair contrasted perfectly with the red color, making her look like some sort of magazine model. It felt kind of unfair that she could exist like that and not know what she was doing to poor Beca’s soul.

—

When the waitress asked if they needed one or two checks, Chloe replied “just one” before Beca could get a word in.

As the waitress walked away, Beca sent a questioning look to the redhead.

Chloe shrugged, “It’s easier for them to just run a single card.” Beca offered to pay her back, but she insisted it to be a holiday present. If Beca didn’t know better, she would have swore it was a date.

They were on their way back to the dorms when Beca felt something hit the back of her head.

She whipped around. “Hey!”

Chloe was already packing another snowball, clearly out for blood. She quickly launched that one too, which Beca barely managed to sidestep. She bent down to create her own snow projectile.

Chloe began to run away to get out of range, so Beca went to chase her. Unfortunately, Beca slipped on the snow and fell. Chloe was immediately at her side. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

The snow cushioned her fall pretty well, but Beca didn’t want to give that away just yet. She faked a grimace. “I think I broke my leg.”

“Oh shit.” Chloe furrowed her eyebrows in worry. “I’m so sorry I-“

Beca felt too bad that she immediately stopped her. “I’m joking, I’m actually fine.”

It took a moment to register, and then Chloe slapped her on the arm. “You scared me!”

Beca rubbed the spot where she was hit. “Ok now I actually have to go to the hospital.”

Chloe just slapped her arm again, before offering a hand to pull her up. Beca took it but didn’t get up. Chloe looked confused as Beca smirked, and then pulled the other girl down into the snow with her. She fell on her face in the fresh snow with a satisfying poof.

“Oh my god, you asshole.” Chloe laughed after pulling her face up, and shoved at the other girl, who was still laying in the snow.

“Chlo you have a beard.” Beca was practically wheezing at the sight of Chloe having snow stuck all over her face. “Still hot though.”

Chloe modeled it, striking poses and getting up to walk down an imaginary runway, while Beca yelled after her, hyping her up.

They messed around in the snow for a while longer, then took the long way back. Beca considered complaining about the cold and wet seeping in, but Chloe just looked so happy. Plus, it really was nice outside. Walking with Chloe in the peace of campus was a moment Beca wanted to keep tucked in her pocket forever.

—

After getting back, they went to take showers (separately) to warm themselves up, deciding to reconvene later in Chloe’s room. Beca sat on her bed with her hair in a towel, scrolling through her phone. She opened a message from Stacie, who was definitely one of her best friends in college so far. She flew out a couple of days ago and told Beca not to “get too freaky” while she was gone. Beca practically shoved her out the door.

Stacie [6:31 pm]: You make it home?

Beca [7:13 pm]: No, stuck here. Stupid snow.

A reply immediately came in.

Stacie [7:13 pm]: Ugh that sucks, are you by yourself then?

Beca hesitated on what exactly to say, knowing Stacie would immediately make fun of her for the truth.

Beca [7:15 pm]: Not exactly…..Chloe is also still here

Stacie [7:16 pm]: !!!!!!!!!!

Stacie [7:16 pm]: BECA

Stacie [7:16 pm]: THIS IS YOUR CHANCE

Beca [7:17 pm]: Dude she doesn’t like me

Stacie [7:18 pm]: Do NOT bother coming back to campus if you don’t shoot your shot right now

Stacie [7:19 pm]: Joking but also not

Stacie [7:19 pm]: She hangs out w you all the time. She actually listens to your music recs. Plz do something.

Stacie [7:20 pm]: Ok talk later family is calling for dinner, good luck!!!!!

Beca [7:21 pm]: ??? I’m going to ignore that you basically implied not listening to any of the music I’ve suggested

She fell back onto her bed. She wanted to make a move, and she did feel like there could be something between them. However, each time Chloe was nice to someone else, she got psyched out believing that Chloe was always just being platonically nice to her. No flirting involved.

With each passing day, though, it became harder to deny she wanted her. And how badly she did. She caught herself staring a bit too long, and hung endlessly on the small touches Chloe would always do. A brush of the finger here, and a hair tucked behind an ear there. Beca thought some days she might explode.

She texted Chloe to ask if she was ready yet.

Chloe [7:25 pm]: Sorry got distracted!! Hopping in the shower now.

With the extra time, Beca decided to finish the mix she was working on earlier that day. There was something off about it that she couldn’t quite figure out, but coming back to it now, she figured out what it was missing. She listened to it a few times to make sure she was really happy with it before mastering it.

A text came in from Chloe, letting her know she could come over whenever.

Beca quickly added the song to a USB which already contained many music files, then placed the drive into a small pink, cardboard box she got from Stacie. The box originally held a necklace, which made it the perfect size for her gift.

She stashed it in her sweater pocket then made her way to Chloe’s room in the other wing of the floor.

It was still relatively early in the night, so Chloe suggested a movie. Beca wasn’t one for movies usually, but it wasn’t like she had any better ideas.

They cuddled together on the small dorm bed in Chloe’s den of pillows, with the laptop in front of them. The movie was actually pretty good, despite all the bad decisions the main character kept making, and the fact that Beca missed half the plot due to glancing at Chloe instead, and being nervous about how close they were.

“Thoughts?” Chloe turned down the volume as the credits began to roll.

“I think she should have gone with the second guy.”

“Really? I thought he was kind of iffy.”

They proceeded have a lively discussion about the movie, with Beca continuing to argue mostly to mess with Chloe, who seemed quite adamant about the main character’s end choice of romantic partner. It ended with Chloe tickling her until Beca finally admitted her defeat.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

Beca looked at Chloe warily, still catching her breath from the tickling attack. “Um, why?”

“Just do it.”

She sighed but did as she was told.

“No peeking!”

Her index finger drew a cross above her heart, signaling her promise to not look.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

In front of her was a piece of paper carefully rolled into a tube and bound with a red bow. Beca picked it up, gingerly untying the ribbon, unraveling her gift. Her jaw dropped.

“Chloe…”

In her hands was a pencil sketch of her with headphones on, smiling and almost on the verge of laughing. Honestly, she never thought about what she looked like while she was happy. The image of herself in her mind was always some version of broody. Is this how Chloe saw her? Beca wasn’t one to usually cry, but she might have teared up a bit.

“This is…incredible.”

Chloe looked kind of nervous. The same way that Beca was protective of showing others her music, Chloe was hesitant to show much of her art. “You like it?”

“Dude I love it. Seriously.” That reassurance seemed to put Chloe at ease. “Okay, your turn to close your eyes.”

Chloe did it without hesitation, and also held out her hands. Beca shook her head a bit in amusement and placed the small box into her palm.

“Okay, open.”

She opened her eyes and lifted the lid of the box to find a black USB drive, with a piece of tape on the side simply labeled “For Chloe”.

Her smile widened as she realized what her present was. “Do I get to finally listen to your music?”

“Maybe.”

“It means a lot, Beca. Thank you.”

“Um yeah, no problem. Don’t tell me if you end up thinking it’s bad.” She joked.

“Oh please, you’re going to have to block me with how many good things I’ll say.”

“Don’t tempt me, I might delete your contact right now.”

Chloe laughed. “Oh please, like you could last a day without me. Also, I actually have another present for you.” She scotched a bit closer to Beca.

“Oh,” Beca furrowed her eyebrows. “Well, I don’t have anything el-“

She was swiftly cut off as Chloe kissed her, soft and sweet. So polite and unassuming it almost felt platonic.

But god did it give Beca butterflies.

Chloe pulled away so quickly that Beca wasn’t sure it even happened. Like maybe she just daydreamed too hard and manifested a hallucination.

She must have had a deer in the headlights look because Chloe suddenly got super shy. “Was that okay?” She whispered, face still close.

Beca finally came to her senses. “Yeah, totally. More than okay. Amazing really.” She must look like a blushing mess.

The corner of Chloe’s mouth quirked up in amusement and relief. “Yeah?”

“Still could be better, though.” Good work Beca, make a joke to regain some semblance of having her shit together.

“Oh?” She watched Chloe lick her lips, a mesmerizing motion. The shyness was all but gone, replaced by something much more confident, and destined to ruin Beca’s life. And she knew she’d welcome it with open arms.

—

Beca woke up in the morning to the light touch of fingers trailing along her jaw. She smiled, remembering where she was, and more importantly, who was besides her. She probably had the best night of sleep in her life. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, Beale?” She asked, keeping her eyes closed.

“Are you going to try and stop me?” Chloe whispered. Her raspy morning voice was really so damn attractive.

She opened one eye, smiling. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.” Chloe leaned in for a long kiss, the hand on her face pulling Beca closer. Her breath hitched. She didn’t think she could ever get used to this. Kissing Chloe Beale. Touching her.

She pulled away all too soon, just as Beca began to want her even more. Beca was quickly learning how much of a tease Chloe was.

“i’m going to get ready, and then maybe we can go get breakfast somewhere?”

“Or…we can stay in bed all day.”

Chloe giggled, and Beca almost professed her love. “Becs, both of us gotta head home.”

“Do we though?”

Chloe just smiled as she slipped out of bed and grabbed her toothbrush and face towel. Before she was completely out the door, she gave her butt a little shake, as if she could tell Beca was staring at her clad in a large t-shirt and sleep shorts. Beca was sure Chloe was smirking as she did it.

As soon as she was out of sight, Beca grabbed her phone from the desk. A text from her dad and a couple from Stacie. She opened the messages from the latter.

Stacie [11:13 pm]: How’d it go?

Stacie [11:30 pm]: I’m assuming the silence is a good thing and ur just too busy making out with Chloe to reply ;)

Beca typed out a quick message.

Beca [9:30 am]: So…..

Stacie [9:30 am]: THIS BETTER BE GOOD NEWS

Beca [9:31 am]: How do you keep replying so quickly??

Stacie [9:31 am]: How about you stop avoiding

Beca thought of the million different things she could say, but opted for simplicity.

Beca [9:32 am]: :)

Stacie [9:33 am]: Is that good

Stacie [9:33 am]: Beca is that good

Stacie [9:34 am]: ?????

She set her phone down, feeling giddy. It might have been a bit cruel to leave Stacie hanging, but she’d get over it. She’d get the full story eventually, but right now, Beca wanted to keep as much of this thing with Chloe to herself as possible. Definitely not like a shameful secret, though.

Something about telling someone about it, however vaguely, made last night and this morning seem actually real.  She had this feeling deep in her chest that this was the start of something incredible, which made her both excited and a bit scared. Ok a lot scared. Terrified even.

It sucked that they’d have be apart right as they were starting something. Winter break couldn’t be over soon enough.

[vampiresuns]

This Is How We Say Goodbye (Song To The Open Road) | Asra x Milenko

☽ THIS IS HOW WE SAY GOODBYE (SONG TO THE OPEN ROAD) ☽

1.9k words. Written for Asra Week, day 6: Promise. In which the Plague ravages Vesuvia, there’s an argument and Asra and Milenko part ways.

You can catch up with Milasra’s pre-game canon, ‘Like Thirst Holds Water’, here.

When Anatole and Milenko got involved, Asra and Amparo were already fighting. 

Their relationship had always been peculiar. More than friends, they were sometimes mirrors, matchstick and friction, cause and reaction. While Milenko was the one Asra had fallen in love with, and Anatole the one who he rode and died for, Amparo tended to spring Asra into motion. Both of them did things in almost identical ways — Asra’s sun sign was Amparo’s moon sign, her rising sign, his moon. As such, they gave the idea of instant compenetration, of unspoken frequencies vibrating in the same way. 

Amparo, the animancer, the actress, the dancer, the impersonator imbued in Asra something the others could not quite describe. That was Amparo’s charm, after all, that pizzaz that made her no one other than La Cassano. 

In that way, they shouldn’t have been surprised they would butt heads this way. They shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing could deescalate the fight either. Everyone was tired, everyone was grieving. The City was ridden with the Plague, there were no answers and no solutions offered, and for the first time in the almost 20 years Lucio had ruled the inevitable had happened: the Council of Vesuvia wasn’t enough, and now it was too late for them to remove Lucio from power by declaring him unfit to rule. The mechanisms would not work, the tissue of the Court was almost entirely destroyed, and the people were ill and needed food, clean water and doctors.

Their families had decided to all ride this out together in the Palazzo, with the proper health regulations that they could adopt. The building could house them all without problem but more importantly, it would mean they would be together. Many things were said about them, like how nothing mortal could kill them, based on an old, old story of how the Consul’s office had become theirs. It was no less true that the Radošević-Cassano did not survive alone. 

So they grouped, they went back home, and with their location inside the walls of the infamous Palazzo Cassano, they took in their closest friends. Their families had begun as friends, marrying between each other was recent, and only a kink of some very specific sets of family members. To them, family wasn’t blood, family was a choice. 

They had asked Asra to move in with them, and with that, to relocate Muriel, no one had to know he was in the Palazzo with them, specially not the Count. Asra, however, wanted to leave, and he wanted to convince Amparo, Anatole and Milenko to go with him, so they all would take their stuff and go, and abandon Vesuvia — a City that had never done anything for any of them. There was no point in dying in it, let alone for it. 

Naturally, the proposal turned into an argument. Amparo especially would not leave her mother and parent, Amparo would not leave Anzano, their grandparent, as she knew they would not leave Vesuvia. Anzano was old, very old, but still fit for travel; however, they had once been the High Priest of the Sun and had trained the new one, just like their spouse Atilia Cassano, had been the High Priest of the Moon. They wouldn’t leave a City they felt a sense of responsibility towards, and Amparo herself would not desert her family when they needed her.

Milenko had a similar idea. He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave when he could help, he couldn’t leave when his mothers would not go, when his grandfather would not go, when his cousins would not go. Unlike Amparo he had no will to argue with Asra, instead, with the help of Anatole they tried to calm it down, so Asra could see where they were coming from, and they could try and answer Asra’s concerns.

It didn’t work. Everyone was strung, stressed and grieving, so it was a matter of time before one of them said the wrong thing, at the wrong time, with whoever the comment had been directed at not wanting to be understanding about it. It was a matter of time before they were all arguing in the ground floor of the Moonstone and Jasmine, all of Asra’s things packed up as he said he was not staying to die in a City like Vesuvia and how anyone with half a mind would do the same. 

Milenko saw the point of no return happen in slow motion: Asra’s words collided with nothing other than the behemoth that was the Cassano’s sense of pride. Whatever they had begun, it could not be stopped now. 

A lot of accusations flew around. Amparo tried to tell Asra that he couldn’t just expect her to leave the City she had always lived in, the City that she hoped to die in at old age. Asra told her what did she know about losing homes, she who had been born in the Heart District with a silver spoon on her mouth, who had never had to struggle because she always had a roof above her head. Funnily enough, Amparo’s patience ran out when he told her that she couldn’t even cook for herself. 

“Do whatever you want. I’m not leaving. If that’s all you think of me, then forget we were ever friends Asra.” 

She disappeared into the upstairs of the shop, into its main living quarters. 

“Asra, that’s not fair,” Milenko said. His tone was critical, but he still tried to stay as calm as possible. Maybe if Asra could see that he really would be safe—

Then Anatole spoke, his anger raw, yet cold and precise, like a well practiced fencing blow: “What the fuck is wrong with you. If we were a bunch of superior assholes who did everything for our own benefit—”

Asra snapped. “No, but you sure think you’ll save Vesuvia from Lucio just from existing, as if anyone in this city would ever care if you lived or died, Anatole. That’s what you do, don’t you? Pretend like you can fix his mistakes while everyone else suffers from them.”

The silence that fell between the three of them was abrupt, soon ringing in their ears, but when Asra tried to apologise, noticing he had said the wrong thing, it was too late. 

Anatole looked like he had been slapped.

“Toly?” Milenko asked, moving closer to his cousin to squeeze his shoulder, wanting to make sure he was okay. Asra’s words had hit one of Anatole’s greatest fears: that no matter how hard he tried, it’d never be enough. 

Before he could reach Anatole, his cousin’s face changed. As his features shifted with anger, Anatole spoke again. 

Now he was truly and really angry. “You meant that.” 

The issue with words was you couldn’t take them back once you said them. All you could do is hope the other person would forgive you and understand if you had misspoken. As Milenko was once again caught between Asra and Anatole arguing, he realised this was one thing Anatole might never forgive. He doubted it was his place to say, yet Milenko didn’t know if he could even advocate for Anatole forgiving Asra’s words, with time.

The issue wasn’t about who was right or wrong. There was no right or wrong, there was no miraculous answer in this unsalvageable situation. It was that Asra had meant it. Part of Anatole’s language magic was this: he was able to read feelings and intentions in spoken words. As a language manipulator, he could tell everything which people (intentionally or otherwise) imbued into words when they spoke, even if he couldn’t tell the why or the how. 

Would he be able to carry on if he could feel that after years of showing honesty and vulnerability because you want the other person to know you, this was what they thought at their worst? 

The argument didn’t last much longer. Anatole, not wanting to speak, went upstairs to check on Amparo, while Milenko and Asra stood alone on the ground floor of the shop. 

The magician began taking his things, preparing himself to leave for real. Milenko followed him, standing outside of the backdoor as he looked at Asra adjusting his travelling coat. Amparo has gotten it for him. It was handmade, Amparo’s gift to Asra two birthdays ago. 

“Aren’t you going to say farewell?” 

Asra startled, not expecting Milenko standing there. “I thought there was nothing else to say.” 

Once again they stood in silence. It felt like forever, even if it was probably just a couple of seconds. They were aware of every moment they lost to silence, looking at each other under the Vesuvian sunset. They felt far away, miles away. 

It hurt to realise, more than Milenko was willing to admit, but Anatole had been right: he still remembered when they were arguing about Asra not asking for help about Muriel. They could be as open as they wanted with Asra, but Asra would never step in time with them, even if he wanted to. 

Who better than Milenko to know this, and to know that sometimes, it was through no fault of his own. 

Asra spoke first. “You think I’m making the wrong choice.” 

Milenko pressed his lips together. “I don’t think there’s a right choice. There’s just the best we can do with the options we’re given.” 

“You don’t think I could do better with mine?”

“I don’t know, beloved, could you?” 

“Don’t— don’t call me that.” 

“I’m sorry. Force of habit.” 

“I forgive you,” Asra said, shifting his weight between his feet. He wanted to say something else, yet he said nothing. 

“Asra. I’m not judging you. I already told you I am no one to judge.” 

“How can you say that to me at a time like this?” 

“What? It’s the truth. I don’t like that you’re leaving and I would never make the choices you are making, and I could give you a piece of my mind and point fingers at you. I am angry, I’m hurt, but nothing I accuse you of will make me feel better. Judging you will not make me feel better, so I won’t. I’ve never done.” 

“Sometimes,” Asra said, dislodging his travel bag from his shoulder, “sometimes I wish you did. It would make leaving easier.” 

To Milenko’s surprise, Asra crossed the distance between them. Milenko didn’t stop his hand from cupping Asra’s cheek. Asra leaned against it, even if he wished he hadn’t. Asra closed his eyes, tears coming through his closed eyelids.

“You know I won’t ask you to stay,” Milenko said, getting teary himself. 

“Just like I know I won’t get you to leave.” 

“Just promise me you’ll think about it, Asra. Promise me that at the very least, you’ll try to take good care of yourself.” 

Asra opened his eyes, his vision blurred because of the tears. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, letting Faust slither into his arm to stretch herself all the way to say goodbye to Milenko.

Her tongue flicked against his nose, making Asra smile. 

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself too, please.”

Milenko nodded, Asra saying his farewells before turning around and walking away as fast as he could without breaking into a run. Milenko watched him go, until Ursula, his familiar, nudged him inside. 

“May Allah keep you safe, Habibi,” he said to the empty street before closing the door behind him. 

[imxeracus]

Baby Steps

Pairing: Gruvia ofc Inspired by FT 100 Years Quest Chapter 58. Sorry I took so long! But here’s one for the books. :) I used the “I’m glad you’re safe” part because a lot of people did the ballroom reference. I might do that one day but not now haha. Also about the places I’m not really accurate okay. I didn’t go check where everyone was exactly so please don’t attack me on it. Here you guys go anyway. Enjoy hopefully? Also this became too long I’m sry ––––––––––– “Damn, this town is confusing.”   Gray and Juvia sat down on a bench nearby, panting heavily. Before this were running across the streets looking left and right for any signs of their own guild members. They were surprised that they cannot find any in sight as they were just together not too long ago. It did not help that they were just fighting earlier on as well. Juvia was thirsty, and she wondered if Gray – well, was thirsty too after all that and wanted to suggest he ought to drink some water. Her water, to be exact.   She blushed at the thought of it. She did not mean anything else but it did seem a little awkward and she worried that it would ruin the mood they have been having. She shook her head. No, she thought. Gray-sama wouldn’t get turn off just because of this right? Things are different now between him and Juvia – maybe, but still…. She took a glance at him and sees that he Is still trying to catch his breath when Juvia already managed to compose herself. Without further ado she reached out for his shoulder to inquire when a voice was heard in both of their minds.   “Gray, Juvia, are you guys alright? where are the both of you?” This voice..   “Warren! Is that you?” Gray spoke up in surprise.   “Glad to hear you guys are alright. We are over at the west side of this town, where Natsu is. We went to find him.”   “That explains why you guys were not near us! We’ll head over there now. Thanks man.”   “See you guys.”   With that Warren shut down his telepathic powers and Gray got up almost immediately, Juvia following suit. He did not seem to be panting anymore, but excited to go back to where everyone else were. The duo continued to walk their way towards the west side, the distance way further than they expected. However, they eventually reached and sure enough saw them all, gathered around a battered, but very cheerful pink dragon slayer.  They were observing the scene — where Lucy was on the brink of crying as Natsu consoled her with a pat on the head. Juvia’s heart went giddy at the sight of it as she recalled how Gray also did something similar to that. She smiled to herself as she touched her own cossack hat, not daring to look at Gray to wonder if he felt the same. “’Yer look like a freak, smiling to yourself like that.” She felt a huge weight on top of her head as her body sunk down a little in surprise, and looked at the person who caused it with fondly discontentment. “Gajeel-kun.” “Yo.” Gajeel smirked. “Guess you two got ‘em good, huh?” “Gajeel! I was wondering where you wen- Oh, Gray and Juvia are back too!” Levy came and proceeded to hug Juvia with care, not hurting her belly. “I’m so glad the two of you are safe!” “Juvia’s glad too that everything worked out fine in the end.” “How did you guys defeat him? Was it with the power of love?” Levy grew a suspicious smile as Juvia blushed and mumbled incoherently at that bold statement, unsure of what to say. She wanted to say that it was, but Gray was rather vague and did not mention the word “love”. Even though she was rather confident it was, but she did not immediately dare to say so.  Before she could think of saying anything, Gray cleared his throat and it caught the rest of their attention. His head was hung low, daring himself to glance at Juvia with a look that she could not comprehend as he quickly looked away. “I’m gonna go rest for abit.” With that he took his leave, leaving all of them and Juvia, confused. He looked as if he wanted to tell her something but did not. What did his look meant? “Guess Ice Boy has some ants in his pants.” Levy lightly smacked him and reprimanded him for his rude statement, as Juvia walked away. She was curious yet concerned as to what he wanted to tell her. However, the bluenette decided to shake it off as went to rest. The guild was planning to host a celebration tonight before leaving the next day.  With nothing much packed, she wore her usual outfit and was relieved to see everyone doing the same. She was worried that it was going to be something grand and did not want to look plain — however this was her guild, she should have known it was going to be casual with lots of brawling involved. She caught sight of her beloved as he was having his usual brawl with Natsu before the reequip mage came and put it to an end, rendering them defeated and begging for her mercy. She giggled at the sight of it and went to take a drink herself as she sat with Cana, Lucy and Levy for the night. They were talking about the mother-to-be as the bookworm was expecting in a few months time. Juvia smiled as they converse, though she could not help but feel a little envious whenever she heard about her iron dragon slayer friend ironing out his life well with a partner and eventually, becoming a father himself.  She glanced at Gray from afar and wondered if they would reach that point of becoming lovers. Recently, things have been different for them despite him leaving her for the quest temporarily. She never knew the reason why, but today got her mind in circles. She’s my power to live. I’m glad you’re safe. .... I’m gonna go rest for abit. Juvia shook it off and knew that if Gray did not want to talk about it, she could never force him. Though she silently wished in her heart that he would tell her more. Eventually, the night passed but instead of staying back to drink with the rest, she decided that it was time to go as she would be leaving early the next day. She began to walk back in peaceful silence with her head titled downwards, deep in thoughts about her beloved ice mage. Juvia sighed as she wondered how she would to face him tomorrow. If possible, the bluenette did not want to leave before getting the clarification she so desired. “I didn’t think you’d be excusing yourself this soon.” Juvia turned in surprise to see none other than Gray Fullbuster – the man who has been in her thoughts – in flesh himself. “Juvia didn’t think it’d be wise to get wasted again before leaving tomorrow, what about you Gray-sama?” She quickly smiled as his eyes rolled in immediate response to her question.

“Me? No way in hell I’m gonna go through the Christmas drama again.” She giggled at how typical his response was, while Gray soften his gaze on her as she did so. He slightly blushed, knowing that what he mentioned was only half true. “Well...” The ice mage scratches the back of his neck, feeling a little nervous. “I also–um, saw you going out.” “Eh–? Gray-sama saw Juvia?” He saw her the moment she was feeling flustered earlier on. He heard her faint laughter from afar as he brawled with Natsu. He saw her as she went to sit with the girls.  He saw her leaving the place with a saddened look on her face, which hurt him so badly. His eyes became half lidded as he pulled her right wrist gently with his left hand, hearing a small gasp leave her lips. Little did she know – he too had been wondering how to talk to her before she goes back. He too, wanted her to know more about his feelings, but it was a challenge for a person like him. I was looking at you the whole time, Gray thought to himself, but struggled to get the words out of his mouth. Too many years has it been building up his own wall of ice, that it became difficult for him to tear it back down. “Baby steps.” He managed. “Let’s take baby steps together.” He looked up instantly when her body became feeble from his grasp to find Juvia in her lovestruck state. “G-G-Gray-sama wants to have a baby with Juvia!?” “I-I didn’t mean THAT!” Gray quickly defended as he tried to shake it off her with his hands on her shoulders, beet red as a tomato. “ Calm down Juvia! I want us to work out but I can’t go all the way yet!” Juvia eventually compose herself and Gray slapped his forehead, sighing as he wondered why did he not think through his words more. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die somewhere, but knew there was no turning back on the things he said. “What I mean is–um–I know I promised you an answer. I made you wait for so long and I know you want this to work. I-I want the same.” Juvia’s heart melted at the sincerity of his voice as he went on. “I know it would take a long time being the fool I am, but I want us to take small steps to our relationship. I’m really bad at my words, Juvia. I’m really bad at public affections but–um–” He nervously took her hand in his and gulped loudly, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “This is okay for a start?” He averted his gaze. It was too much for him to bear after his grand speech. She too flushed at his actions, but managed to smile softly and squeezed his hand in response. “Yes, Gray-sama.” They began to walk together hand in hand back, feeling each others’ warmth. She looked at Gray’s back as he was ahead of her slightly and could tell how red he was by the ears. Her heart squeezed, knowing he was trying hard for her sake and she appreciated it. The water mage smiled to herself as could not believe how a simple journey back to her room became unexpectedly pleasant.  “When I get back, maybe we should have a d-date or something.”  And it could not get any better than this.