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adore-laur · 4 months

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Dadrry idea: since Harry left his position of head chef and there’s a second baby now, maybe they’re struggling a tiny bit with money. Not too much but things are a little stressful and they have to cancel a holiday maybe? Or one of the girls just doesn’t get a toy she wants or something? And they have to explain it to the child just while Harry picks up a few more shifts

——

Harry handled the finances and was highly aware of each transaction made in the family. With two kids, you both had to be quite frugal, especially since Harry was working fewer hours at the restaurant and you were a stay-at-home mom. While there was never an issue of not having enough money to pay the bills and provide your children with life’s necessities, the prospect of running out still haunted your mind. It was possible that an unforeseeable emergency could snatch a hefty chunk of money away. Additionally, there were other boring adult charges like mortgages, taxes, and monthly subscriptions that all left a bigger deduction with each year that passed.

Then there was the summer trip to Italy happening in two months. The plane tickets had already been bought and gifted for Christmas, and the villa was booked in advance. It was expensive, but the other option of staying in a cramped hotel room for a week was undesirable in all regards. The space and privacy were crucial for your sanity.

Italy was not a cheap travel destination per se. There would be money spent every day on transportation, dining, tourist traps, and whatever else sucked you in with its magnificent European beauty. Indulging in extravagance would be tempting, but if you planned and budgeted ahead of time, maybe the financial repercussions of the trip wouldn't be so deplorable. Your wishful thinking was blatantly deceptive.

After putting the kids to bed, you sat at the kitchen table under the dim chandelier and waited for Harry to finish unloading the dishwasher. His silent presence was comfortable as you pondered the logistics of the upcoming trip. Well, pondered was putting it lightly—you were brooding.

"I can hear you thinking," Harry said, setting the last bowl in the cupboard to his left. He washed and dried his hands, then walked over to you with his cotton pajama pants slung low on his hips. His bare torso was at your eye level, and you fought the urge to bury your face in the warm, chiseled skin there.

"My head is going to explode," you muttered, feeling an imminent migraine pulsing near your temples.

He fell into the chair beside you, exhausted from an eventful Saturday filled with dad duties, and scooted it closer to you. "Why, baby?" he asked, his palms scrubbing down his face as he yawned.

"I'm overthinking everything."

Placing his elbow on the table, he cradled his cheek in his palm and gave you his full focus. "Break it down for me."

"There's mainly one thing." You huffed, deciding to broach the topic before it got swept under the rug. "The Italy trip. Prices are going up, and I'm worried we won't be able to afford going anymore."

Harry's expression was the epitome of flummoxed. "Wait, what? Where is this coming from?"

"You're not working full-time," you explained, "and I'm not raking in any income. I mean, will we be able to financially recover from the trip? What if—"

"Hold on, hold on," he said softly, his eyes pinching shut. "Can I interrupt, please?"

You half-heartedly waved your hand in his general direction, in desperate need of his sensible guidance. "Be my guest."

"Let's backtrack for a second. Honey, why do you think we won't be able to afford it? The biggest costs are already out of the way."

"I just told you why. Think about it, Harry." You tapped the table to emphasize each point. "A meal for four people will probably cost over a hundred dollars. That includes breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so if we multiply that by the seven days we're there, it's going to be well over a thousand dollars."

"Okay," he said. He didn't seem to have anything to add after that, so you continued.

"Then there's transportation." You groaned, staring up at the ceiling. "We still have to decide if we're renting a car. If not, we'll have to pay for a bus, or a train, or a taxi. That's going to add up very quickly."

"Mm-hmm." Harry had a dopey look on his face, a hint of a smile tugging the corners of his lips up. Whatever. You were being realistic, and he was in a dreamland where money grew on trees.

You carried on, getting tangled in the vines of your brain's dense jungle. "And then what about all the sightseeing and activities? That's the most expensive aspect." You shrugged helplessly. "I was recently searching for free things to do in Tuscany. I guess there are a lot of buildings we can look at, but I don't know if the kids would enjoy it."

Harry nodded along. When he realized you were done with your long-winded explanation, he lifted his eyebrows and said, "It's a good thing we can spoil them with the raise I got yesterday."

"And also—what?" You stopped abruptly, catching your breath. Did he just...?

Harry stood and bent down to kiss your forehead in that sweet way of his—gentle and imploring, like he wanted to caress your brain and will it to calm down. "I got a raise yesterday," he repeated nonchalantly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you demanded, lightly smacking his shoulder.

"I'm telling you right now. I wanted to wait until we had a moment to ourselves." He crouched in front of you, holding your knees just like he'd done when you told him you were pregnant for the second time. The memory was so vivid that it almost left you stunned with emotion. "Five percent pay raise. We're going to be just fine." His simple smile was remedial. "We are not canceling this trip."

You exhaled, releasing all of your worries into the air, the pounding in your temples dissipating. "Why didn't you stop me from rambling on?"

"Because it's healthy to speak those types of thoughts aloud instead of letting them simmer," Harry replied like the perfect husband he was.

You cupped his cheeks and kissed him deeply, pouring all of your love and gratitude into it. "I'm so proud of you," you whispered against his mouth. He savored your words by humming and sliding his tongue across yours for a brief second. "I appreciate the hard work you put into making our little family happy. And thank you for making this vacation possible."

"Wanted to spoil my girls," Harry murmured, craning his neck to kiss you more. His wet lips pulled at yours, greedy for their pliancy.

"Are you going to pick up more hours at the restaurant?" you asked in between the sounds of lip-smacking and heavy breathing. Something about him at night, in the dimly lit kitchen, with you as his sole focus, was igniting that secret fuse only he could play with.

"Shhh..." His fingers dug into your waist as he lifted you off the chair. Your legs and arms wrapped around him, warmth flooding right under your skin like wildfire. "No more work talk. I want some alone time with my wife before a hungry baby wakes us up."

You giggled and bit his bottom lip in excitement before he carried you to the bedroom.

Miraculously, your six-month-old gave the both of you forty minutes of uninterrupted time to roll around in the sheets.

When you went to sleep later that night, visions of Tuscany's hillside vineyards and swimming in the vast sea erased your concerns. As did the unequivocal vision of the man beside you making precious memories with his babies.

With Harry, there was no need to sweat the small stuff. His eyes were set on the most important thing—family.

——

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #SORRY I KINDA PUT MY OWN SPIN ON IT

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moongreenlight · 1 year

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More on Soap and his f!demon!reader because you guys forced me like oooookay I get it you’re horny on main

Just kidding everything I do is for you. All you have to do is vaguely imply that you want something and I’m all over it baby anything you need.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Johnny’s demon who follows him everywhere after his first kill. Bound to him the moment the bullet left his chamber. A partnership of sorts. Cast into the pits and valleys of his soul. Gifted to him in the few intimate moments where the deafening blast of his rifle slowed time. Kept a secret even from him. A partnership between this world and the next. Quite literally a give and take. You sworn to him so long as he kept up his end of the bargain. Kill or be killed.

You stayed concealed in shadows for years. Flitting from corner to corner to make sure you always had an eye on him. Silently coaching him through little whispers carried to his ears on the wind. Watching him grow as a soldier under your care. Honing and refining his skill as you saw fit. Leaning your chin just over his shoulder during missions. Voice leading him through to victory like siren song.

Protecting him when it was necessary. Wrapping your big wings around him to shield him from an onslaught of bullets. Leaving his side only for a moment to gore a sniper with their sights on him with your blackbuck horns. Curling your fingers around his to force the trigger of his pistol back if he hesitated and put himself in danger.

It was a bit dirty in principle. Like forging his signature on the deed that signed his soul over to the devil, but he didn’t seem to mind. The cost of invincibility coming at a relatively low price all things considered. The only drawback was his ego. Sizable before, now bloated into something almost grotesque. Cocksure and arrogant but not without his charms.

Not to mention, you’d almost taken a liking to Johnny in your time together. Like a parasite slowly becoming fond of their host. He keeps you fed. Bringing you with him to the field, letting you gorge yourself on blood and carnage and pain until all you can do is drape yourself over his broad shoulders and lazily flick your magic around when it’s required. And he’s decently entertaining for a mortal. Has to be the best company you’ve been forced to keep in at least a few hundred years.

Though you found yourself getting increasingly irritated each time he came home from a mission and thanked God of all people. Letting him pick up a few more scrapes and bruises than you usually would on his missions after that whole bit started. Each murmured ‘Thank you’ making you hiss and howl down at him from your perch in the shadows. Wanting to show him just who he should be thanking for his survival.

Tired of his baseless belief and wanting to teach him a lesson on saying thank you; you revealed your human form to him during midnight mass on Christmas Day. Can’t say you didn’t have a sense of humor.

You sat alone in the pews. Feeling when he entered the church minutes after you. Skin erupting into goosebumps, hair standing on end, a heat starting under your skin like you’d been dropped into a pot of water being slowly brought to a boil. You watched from the corner of your eye as he and his family slowly made their way down the rows of pews, finding yours was the only one with enough room to hold the lot of them together. It all seemed too perfect when you and Johnny ended up knee-to-knee.

You felt his energy shift. He could feel you as much as you could feel him, but the sensation was foreign to him. The same discomfort you’d been plunged into when you took your human form. Trying to cooly fold the sleeves of his dress shirt up at his elbows and seem attentive to his mother who was harping on him about his hair up until the moment the priest stepped to the pulpit.

You didn’t get a chance at him until the congregation was finally prompted to greet one another. Some love your neighbor nonsense.

Johnny turned to you immediately. Standing from his pew with the rest of the crowd. Unable to sit still in such discomfort. His skin hot as yours. Buzzing just under the surface like he was inches away from a live wire.

You blinked up at him through thick lashes, wetting your lips with a flick of your tongue before pushing to your feet. Letting him shift his weight for a few more moments as you looked him over.

Standing in front of him, he dwarfed you. Always had- but especially now when you didn’t have your wings or horns to compensate. Not the tallest in the room, but carried himself like he was. Chest puffed out, arms subtly flexed by his sides, dress shirt hugging his muscled form just right.

He stuck a hand out. Brow cocked as he sized you up with glittering blue eyes.

“Peace be with you.”

He spoke first. You fitted your hand in his. Barely blinking when the meeting of your skin elicited something like a static shock. Relieving both of you from your discomfort.

“And with your spirit.”

You responded through a coy smile. He looked reluctant to take his arm back. The shock hadn’t deterred him. Instead he wrapped his fingers all the way around your hand, hanging on to you for a beat longer than was necessary.

“Alone on Christmas?”

He still didn’t let go of your hand. A sharp smile. Almost predatory.

“Nobody to spend it with.”

You shrugged, still gazing up at him with big doe eyes. Finally allowing your hand to drop from his and immediately feeling pins and needles in the absence of his touch.

“Don’t believe that for a minute.”

You caught his knee inching toward yours on more than one occasion as the mass carried on. Like he was testing the waters to see if you were truly the reprive he was seeking. Fidgeting slightly where he sat. Teeth clicking softly as he ground them. Cracking his knuckles. Clenching and unclenching his jaw. Shifting his hips slightly forward on the bench. To his credit, he showed an impressive amount of restraint. Never touching you. Not that it would have done much through his trousers.

The one true pitfall of your being bound to his soul. Forgotten until now in its seeming insignificance. It was near agony for the both of you when you took human form. Like your life force being torn in two and dangled temptingly close but just out of arm’s reach. A kind of pain that didn’t need to land blows on either of your physicalities. Felt divinely through each you. Not used to being separated, you had an almost instinctual need to be together. You’d known beforehand and he seemed to be picking up on it quickly. Skin needed to touch skin in order to provide either one of you any relief. Give both of your spirits space to knit themselves back together.

For being so tightly braided in the fibers of his being, you found it almost shocking that you hadn’t noticed how desperate he could be when he was looking for release. Body tense in his increased discomfort. No doubt grappling with the effects of your separation. Sweat beading at the back of his neck. Tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. Bouncing his knee. Looking up toward the rafters before fixing his gaze on you in an attempt to pass it off as a sweep of the room. The way he brushed your arm reaching over you for a bible nestled in a pocket just in front of you. Making contact with your exposed skin for a fraction of a second and nearly whining when the both of you felt your unease settle for a fleeting moment.

Trying to push up against you when you were down on the kneelers, murmuring a clipped apology each time. Still somehow finding time to rake his eyes over you. Nails digging little half-moons into the back of his hands where they were clasped in prayer.

On the tail end of the service, communion was given. You followed behind Johnny and his family. Just behind him like you had so many times before. His normal prowl substituted for a more casual saunter. Subduing his ego for something a bit more reserved in the presence of not only his family but also the good lord. Nodding his thanks as he took his bread and wine. You had to fight back the distasteful curl of your lip at the motion. Even now he was thanking God.

You saw the way he tried to casually turn his gaze back to you when you stepped up to take your Eucharist. Tongue laid out flat and long, head tipped back a few degrees. Intentionally pornographic in your acceptance of the wafer. Nearly tripping over his feet when he caught you staring straight back to him. You made a show of pulling your tongue back into your mouth, your best attempt at a demure smile curving your lips.

He tailed you closely on your march out of the church. You lingering on the walkway. Seeing the way his eyes flicked back to you as he walked his parents to their car. Mother still going on about something or the other. He needed to visit more or he needed a proper haircut or he needed to call more. He cut her off with a kiss on the cheek before closing the car door. Shook his father’s hand. And as expected, crossed the parking lot quickly to get back to you. Grinning wolfishly as he saw you stood with your winter coat folded neatly over your arms pretending to look around for who knew what.

“Still alone, are we?”

He queried, standing in front of you, folding his arms over his chest. You didn’t miss the way he flexed just barely, making the dress shirt bite into his bicep.

“You worried about me?”

You cocked your head slightly to the side, chewing the inside of your lip to dilute the smile threatening to curl your lips.

“Ken I oughta be, pretty lass like you.”

He chuckled softly, blue eyes glittering under the warm glow of the lights outside the church.

“Aren’t you sweet.”

You deadpanned.

“You’ve got no idea.”

He’s used to getting what he wants, that ego of his. And you’d made the mistake of not outlining exactly how quickly you’d play into his game beforehand. Mind now clouded from not being with him. Walls came crumbling down embarrassingly quick.

He’d somehow persuaded you to let him give you a lift back to his place. You making up some excuse about not being from the area, staying with a friend who must have fallen asleep instead of picking you up after church. Somehow allowed him to keep his hand fixed on the small of your back up two flights of stairs to his flat. Somehow wound up with a tumbler of whiskey in your hand, pushed onto the couch with Johnny sandwiching you against the arm.

Awfully smart for a mortal man. Figured out what it took to keep him comfortable and ran with it. His fingertips ghosting along the hem of your dress. Delighting in the goosebumps both of you got when he brushed your skin with his. The insatiable heat crackling within each of you dying down each time only to be fanned with a renewed fervor when he drew back. Eventually settling on not pulling away at all. Resting his hand on the top of your thigh, running the fabric of your dress between a few fingers. Careful to keep his palm flat against you. Infuriatingly comfortable with you seeing as you were a complete stranger to him. Chatting like the two of you were old friends. Flirting like you had done this time and time again.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Couldn’t be arsed to play the fool and try and skirt around the subject. A dog after a bone, really. Practically drooling over you as you made idle chitchat. And the worst part was that it was working. You’d try to blame it on your addled state. Not in your right mind. Only you knew how flimsy those excuses were. Trying to curb his advances with little success. Trying to keep the ball in your court.

You were still looking to assign blame to something when he grabbed your hips and tugged you under him on the couch. Circumstance. Mindset. Whiskey. Church. God. You couldn’t even remember what the two of you had been talking about. Something insignificant. Very well could have been the weather. You had a feeling it didn’t really matter.

Hovering over you close enough to feel his feverish heat all over. His knee forcing its way between your legs like he felt some kind of right. Using his big paws, still clamped around your hips to grind you against his thigh. A sharp laugh when you tried to hide the soft mewls that bubbled up inside you.

You felt smaller than you had in eons. Not used to being jerked about. Reduced to something resembling a true human under Johnny’s touch. Not having been material for centuries would do that, you supposed. No room to think about the needs of your physical body if it’s something that’s been shelved until now. And- fuck. It’s like somehow your body had found room to store up thousands of years of repression. Bursting at the seams. Somehow, the heat in your belly rivaled that of being separated from him. A feeling that couldn’t be sated like your bloodlust. Like a hunger that could claw its way up out of you if left untreated.

He was grinning at you like the cat that ate the fucking canary. Properly giddy. Tickled with himself for snatching you up. You wanted to snap at him. Hiss and spit like you had when he’d thanked God instead of you after a mission. Remind him that he wasn’t the hero he thought he was because this was all part of your plan, but the words died in your throat.

“Jesus. Thought you’d be a good girl. Meetin’ you in a church and all.”

His voice wasn’t doing anything to help your case. Nearly sending you feral under him. Unable to help the wetness gathering at your sex. You tried to press your thighs together. To buck his hands off of you, but it only made him snap his teeth in your face. His fingers bit in just a touch harder, pressing you down into the couch.

“Thought you said you were sweet.”

You bit back, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Dinnae know s’what you wanted. Don’t seem like it.”

“Funny.”

You shot back, voice a bit more obviously breathless than you would have liked. He’d let go of your hips, leaving you to grind yourself against the muscle of his thigh that was pressed tightly against you. He looked down, watching the way you moved. Whining at the sight. You were much too lost in your mind to notice the small damp spot that was forming on the leg of his trousers. Rolling your hips lazily against him.

“You like funny? Cunt get this wet for any funny bastard that comes along?”

You couldn’t muffle the high keening sound that tore from your throat in time. His filthy words taking you by surprise. Blinking rapidly and making a vain effort to still your hips, but he was quick to the kill. Snorting a laugh and tugging you up off the couch. Bullying you down the short hallway and into his bedroom. Walking you backwards using his legs to guide you. Puffed-out chest knocking you in the direction he wanted, kicking at your feet if you were going to run into the wall or a corner. Herding you like some sort of farm dog. There was a nasty look in his eyes now that you weren’t touching anymore. Even a few seconds apart seemed too much.

He shoved you backward onto the bed, not giving you time to adjust the awkward angle at which you’d landed before he was knelt before you on the ground. Yanking you forward by the backs of your knees which caused your dress to bunch at your hips. Leaving your dripping sex exposed to him. The thin panties doing little to hide your arousal. You yipped softly, trying to twist away from him. Give yourself the high ground, but he wasn’t having it.

He wasn’t the light, arrogant, charming Johnny you’d seen before. Nor was he the dark, rough operator you’d seen him be on the field. This was something different entirely. He looked like a predator that had finally caught some elusive prey. A flash of his teeth through an infuriatingly smug smile. Eyes raking you over like he was about to tear into you. It made something deep within you coil tightly. The heat in your belly now at a roaring boil. Your plan long forgotten. Lost somewhere to swirl among the fog that took over your mind.

Given the animosity he was exuding, he took his sweet time warming you up. Kissing, nipping, sucking, licking his way up your legs. From knee to hip on both sides. Leaving small, dark marks on your skin. Marking his territory. Panting softly over your barely clothed cunt. You making your situation even worse when you twitched and mewled softly under him. Cheeks burning a deep scarlet.

It was entirely too much and somehow not enough. The visual of him knelt between your legs that were hanging off the bed. His artful way of touching you. Your thundering heartbeat and the blood rushing in your ears. It nearly pushed you over the edge without him even needing to touch you.

He was a dog pulling on a taught leash. Doing everything he could to restrain himself. His breathing was ragged. Eyes steely. Pupils blown out. Unable to look away from the damp spot on your panties. Humming his approval at the sight. Working his calloused fingers under the fabric and guiding them down your legs. His muscles were tense, impossibly so, threatening to burst the seams of his shirt. Swallowing hard when he finally got a look at your drooling pussy.

“Jesus, bonnie. Fuckin’ perfect.”

He shifted slightly on his knees. Cock pressing uncomfortably hard against his pants. The muscles in his jaw twitched slightly. Sat stilled for a moment with his hands at your thighs with a white-knuckle grip.

You whined. A choked sound. Trying to squirm out of his eyesight. A bit uncomfortable being ogled. This sent him back into action, strong hands yanking you back toward him. Snapping his teeth in your face in warning.

He then spent more time working you out. Like he had nothing else he’d rather be doing. His mouth hot and wet. Touching anywhere but your clit out of some torturous principle. Spreading you open with his thumbs. Lolling out his tongue and allowing drool to drip down off it and add to your gathering slick. Blowing cool air on you. Watching your every twitch and shake with lust-glazed eyes that somehow seemed more attentive than normal. Committing you to memory.

You were nearly in tears. He’d ruined your plan. Turned you from an all powerful being into some shivering, whimpering thing. Overstimulated without him needing to wreck you with an orgasm. Sweating and whining and yelping at his touch. Trying to tangle your fingers in his hair and jerk him closer, but he just swatted your hands away or sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh to shut you up. Unable to be put off of his path even after you’d stooped well below your status and managed to ask nicely a few times.

And when he finally, fucking finally, showed you a bit of mercy; he only sunk one finger into you. Enough to make you let out a low, throaty growl, but not enough to satisfy you. He pumped in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. Biting his lip and panting as he watched the way your drooling cunt swallowed him so perfectly. You tried to roll your hips into him like you had on the couch. Tried to grind into his knuckles to give your swollen clit some friction, but he rewarded your efforts with a mean slap on the leg. It took you by surprise. Pain like that- physical pain- had been so rare that it made you cry out and jerk your head up to stare at him wide eyed and open mouthed.

“Yer gettin’ bratty. Take what I give you.”

He shrugged, still unable to tear his eyes away from where you were clenched around him. Though he didn’t bother hiding the smug smile he was sporting.

“N-not enough. More.”

You whined, tossing your head back onto the mattress.

“Hell of a way to say thank you.”

He chided, tutting his tongue softly.

“You’re out of your mind if-“

He put a quick stop to your impending tirade by stuffing you full with another finger. A soft squelching sound as he began to pump faster that sent you reeling. Unable to form a coherent thought, you were left to fall apart on his bed. Legs hanging lamely off the edge as he had his way with your cunt. Treating it like you weren’t even there. Cooing pure filthy words of admiration to your sweet cunt. Pinching around your clit for a moment before sliding back down to hold you open between the index and middle fingers of his free hand.

Fuck. So pretty. Look how she sucks me in, mm? Needy thing. Never been treated this good? Need‘ta get you ready, yeah? Bet she’ll be prettier all stretched out.

By this point, you were sobbing. Fat tears rolling down your cheeks and creating little stains on the comforter on either side of your head. Rolling down your neck. Something coiled so tightly under your belly that you were certain you would implode. Turn yourself inside out before he ever granted you release. Pained and overstimulated and under-stimulated all at once. Rendering you useless in doing anything other than moaning and fisting the sheets weakly in your hands.

He stayed like this for a few minutes, until he could tell that you were getting pushed to your breaking point. Working up his pace. Curling his fingers more and more. Letting his breath fan you. Still uttering filth like it was prayer. Fucking reverent. Slowly adding drops of water to a reservoir until the dam burst. It sent you careening over the edge when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit and gave a gentle suck. Lewd, wet noises coming from the both of you. It took all of a few seconds for you to reach your orgasm. Whatever had been furled tightly within you finally snapping and exploding outwards. Wiping your mind clean. Only allowing you to focus on your release. Walls clenching and spasming around his fingers that did not relent. Crying out and moaning and gasping much louder than you’d meant. Clapping a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. Bucking your hips up into him and re-starting the entire process when your now hypersensitive clit grazed his teeth or tongue.

He stayed latched on to you for much longer than was appropriate. Lapping up as much of your spend as he could. Working his fingers into you well past the point of exhaustion. Keeping you spread open and on his view the entire way. Paying no mind to the way his knees began to object to his position or how tight his cock was pressed against his pants. Obsessed with the way your body reacted to him. Obsessed with your pleasure.

It felt like he was trying to make you come completely undone. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you were nothing but a puddle on the bed. He spared you no mercy when he finally pushed himself to his feet. Hands flying to his belt and tearing it off. Too impatient be bothered to shed his trousers completely, opting to tuck the waistband just under his heavy balls. Shucking your dress up over your head. Using the slick gathered on his hands to lubricate his cock before he started fucking into his hand.

His leaking tip bumped against your clit each time he thrusted forward, sending you spiraling. Seeing stars. And now that he was certain he’d gotten you to come, it seemed the only thing he could focus on was his own orgasm. Yanking off his dress shirt with one hand. Working his needy mouth across your chest, up your neck, over your jaw until finally he met your lips. Leaving a slick trail of spit in his wake. Meeting your mouth with such a desperation that your teeth bumped together. His tongue sloppily working it’s way past your lips and further into your mouth.

He continued to fuck into his hands, eyes rolling back each time he brushed against you. Hypersensitive by nature, amplified a thousand times by the throbbing hardness of his cock. Dipping into you just a centimeter at a time. Driving the both of you insane. The scalding heat of his skin pressed flush against yours. The taste of yourself still on his mouth and chin. Sweat on sweat. Your head spinning. Mind still clouded with blinding pleasure. You wanted to tear him to shreds. So frustrated with him and his effect on you. Ruining your plans. Like he’d taken a seam ripper to your edges and was pulling you apart without even needing to try.

He hummed something filthy that you couldn’t quite make out. Sound muffled by the blood thundering through your ears. Letting out something that resembled a scream when he finally sheathed his cock deep within your walls. No longer satisfied with the stimulation of his hand. Bottoming out on his first thrust. Finally slipping himself out of the collar that was choking him in his rabid attempt to bury himself in you. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth, and you found yourself truly connecting the dots as to why he was so insistent on stretching you out with his fingers and loosening you up with multiple orgasms.

Your back arching impossibly further up into him. His sweat-slick forehead pressed hard against yours. Noses bumping together as he set a punishing pace humping into you. His eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Groaning and whining about how good you felt around him. He was beating hard against your cervix. White-hot pain popped spots behind your eyes. Your body trying to adjust to the feeling of him buried so deep.

“Fuckin’ perfect. Takin’ me so good.”

His tone was stuck somewhere resembling a growl. Rumbling so low you swore you could feel it in in your chest. Teeth clenched. Huffing in sharp breaths as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly. All you could do was mewl and cry under him in response.

He reached his orgasm relatively quickly, burying impossibly deeper into you when he finally came. His face buried into the crook of your neck, teeth sunk into your collarbone. It irritated you that he didn’t think to ask if he should pull out. But that was yet another boundary he didn’t seem to care for. Like he knew there was no way you could deny him. Like he felt that same entitlement to any part of you that he wanted. And honestly- that thought rang dauntingly true.

He thrust lazily into you, riding out his high before collapsing down next to you. Still sporting that infuriatingly smug grin. Fucking glowing. Tugging you over into his big arms and wrapping them around you. Tucking you under his chin and suffocating you with his smell. Sex and whiskey and cologne and incense. You hated that it worked to calm your aching body and mind.

“Oughta keep you around.”

He mused, chuckling breathlessly over you.

You simply hummed your response. Sighing sharply and resigning to the fact that revealing yourself to him at all may have been a mistake. You were at his service indefinitely.

#this took me forever to write because writing smut is so hard I kept having to take giggle breaks #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x you #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap call of duty #soap x reader #John soap MacTavish smut #soap smut

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moonlight-tmd · 6 months

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Thinking about Bee essentially being a sugar daddy for Team Prime.

Like, I headcanon that he has a job that's basically him digging around the trash to find stuff that can sell in 2nd hand stores, after some cleaning up and renovation of course. And we all know the stereotype of "you better study to get a better job or you'll end up like that garbage man" to make us think they are paid very low when in reality that's not true at all.

So with that being said, I suppose Bee has a lot of money. Sari and her babysitter helpede him make a bank account and he gets payment everytime he brings the wagon with the items to the local 2nd hand stores which is like once a week. It's fun, pays well and he gets to keep some of the stuff he finds.

He surprisingly manages it very well, it is essential for humans so he adapted their habit of making sure every spending is at least somewhat calculated. He doesn't really need food or other stuff like that so the most money goes to games and game-related stuff. He does put some money from every paycheck to his savings of course and he donates to various charities regularly.

I imagine just the Gamer Trio (Bee, Bulk, Sari) and Prowl chillin on the couch while Bee looks thru his Steam gallery to play some games. Sari notices just how many games he has and comments on how much that must've cost to get them. They talk about the games and how much they cost to get plus the dlcs and game bundles of physical items n such from preorders and so on. Then Bee casually mentions having like 100k on his savings while they talk if he's not spending too much money and they're all just shocked. They knew Bee had a job that pays human money, just not that it pays this well...

He's filthy rich, as Sari put it.

Bee always seemed to have store-bought gifts for everyone on Christmas- be it some item they mentioned wanting to have or something practical and/or essential they needed. I imagine after they find out Bee is basicaly rich, sometimes they'll ask him to borrow them money for something instead of asking Sari or her dad to sponsor. It doesn't happen that often and they always return the favor in some other way. Bee however took it a step further and decided that if they're gonna ask him for money they might as well have their own- he basically gives them allowance, 200$ per month to spend however they want or save.

They kinda feel bad for taking his money but Bee doesn't mind in the slightest. He likes making his friends happy. And hey, it gives him opportunity to brag about being the main breadwinner of this family and no one can object so it's cool.

#maccadam #tfa #tfa bumblebee #tfa headcanons

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loneamaryllis · 9 months

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Merry Christmas @racfoam ! Here's a small gift for you!

A scene from a Harrymort AU where Harrie sold herself to Voldemort in exchange for peace.

"Look up."

The words were whispered in her ear, a sinuous demand that wound its barbed coils tight around her throat. She complied, helpless against the command, her eyes flicking up.

There, hanging from the ceiling, was a bouquet of mistletoe. Vibrant green leaves, white fruits dotted around the bulk of the plant, and a red ribbon.

Fuck.

Harrie tried to run.

Large hands clamped down on her shoulders, pinning her in place.

"You know what that means," Voldemort said, with a softness that belied the steel strength of his grip.

"No."

It didn't mean anything, because he couldn't force her into it. That was one of the few safeguards of the contract binding her to him. She had to obey most of his orders, but she was free to ignore anything regarding physical intimacy. He couldn't make her kiss him.

"It's tradition, Harrie."

"I'll make a new tradition. Stand under the mistletoe, punch you in your noseless face."

He chuckled, and the sound trailed down her spine like a ribbon of smooth silk.

"Still so fierce. You've been mine for six months now, and you haven't lost your fire."

She gnawed into her lower lip, unable to deny it. She was his. She had signed that contract and given herself to him, and in exchange, he had halted his attempts at taking over wizarding Britain. He no longer threatened Muggles and Muggle-borns. There was peace—at the cost of her freedom.

"One kiss," he said, leaning down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Just... one kiss."

She swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat. Something was churning in her stomach. Disgust, that was disgust—disgust when she pictured his snake-like face, the pale skin, the slits he had for nostrils, and those unnatural red eyes that always pierced right through her.

Yes, disgust only, she told herself, resolutely ignoring the low, cramping pull in her belly.

People were watching.

This was a party, after all—a Yule celebration—and there were guests from both sides. Death Eaters mingled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, while a few international guests were present as well. The orchestra was playing, and people were talking and mingling around the buffet, half of them oblivious to the mistletoe situation. The other half was looking at her and Voldemort.

The Malfoys were watching, all three of them, identical gray eyes on her. Snape was watching, from halfway across the room, a glass of Champagne in his hand as he stared at her, gaunt features set in a blank mask. Her friends—Ron, Hermione, Ginny—were watching, and they looked furious, but there was nothing they could do. Coming to her rescue would violate the terms of the contract, and Harrie had made it clear to them that—

—that she'd chosen this. That it was worth it. That she wanted it.

Another pulse of heat tugged at her core.

The bastard was keeping the soul bond wide open, wielding it as a weapon against her. His desire flowed toward her like a torrent, the water accumulating fast. Her mental wall wobbled.

He wanted a kiss? Fine. He would get a kiss.

Turning around, she grabbed him by the lapels of his stupid suit, tugged him down, and smashed her lips to his.

A solar flare of desire erupted between them. Voldemort let out a predatory growl and opened his mouth, his forked tongue flicking out. Harrie growled back.

Then she bit him.

Her incisors sank into his thin bottom lip, and the bitter flavor of his blood burst onto her tongue. She huffed in triumph, drawing back. He didn't let her move away. His hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers knotting in her hair, and he pressed their mouths together with ravenous greed, his tongue plunging between her lips.

Blood.

Blood and fire—she was burning, burning for him.

A final lick of that prehensile tongue against her own, and he let her go.

She hurriedly stepped back, her heart racing. Glaring at him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face felt too hot, her knickers too damp.

"What a delightful surprise," he said, with a sly grin. "My lioness has claws."

"That's all you'll get out of me."

His crimson eyes flared like a sunset. He lifted a finger to his mouth and casually ran it across his lips, before licking the blood with a swipe of tongue that was frankly obscene.

"That is all I wanted for now, Harrie."

She turned her back on him and lied to herself, twice. She pretended she wasn't running away.

And she pretended she hadn't liked that kiss.

#gift fic #snippet #harrymort #female harry potter #snake face voldemort

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codfanficedits · 9 months

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Christmas - Part 2/4

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon during Christmas :)

Wordcount: 2127 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: A little bit hinting to NSFW, I think? A lot of fluff :)

A/N: I said what I said.

He used to hate the holidays, but by the Gods did that change when he met you. You felt like a gift from the heavens above, slowly introducing him to the warmth that could be, and for the first time since years, did Simon start to love the holidays.

Unfortunately, does the army wait for no one. And right before he was supposed to be home, he got sent on a mission again, leaving him without a way to communicate with you.

Luckely for him, it was a short, easy mission, leaving him with some spare time to buy you something before he got back. He always adored giving you things. A little way of marking you as his, making it known to others that you were off the market.

He was a little too eager when he swung open the door of your house, kicking off his boots almost immediately.

"Hi, lovie," he mumbled exhausted. One of his hands slipped into his pocket, pulling out a small, black box. "Early present for you."

You had not expected him to be home again, you was more worried that he was killed in action, and there he was, exhausted as could be, but alive.

"Oh lovie." You sighed as you hugged him tight, burying your face in the crook of his neck, a content sigh leaving your lips.

You pulled back to look at him, a smile on your face, your hair tickling his arm. You took the little box from him, opening it eagerly.

"Simon!" You had been eyeing this ankle bracelet for a while, and he must've known it. "This must've costed you a fortune!" You exclaimed, seeing it had this initial on it, a little S dangling off it.

He hugged back with a groan, wrapping his arms around your tightly. The love he felt for his person was unmatched by anyone or anything. No matter how hard things got, these rare moments of comfort made his entire being come back to life and feel like things were going to be okay. You made his heart race in ways you'd never know.

"I'm here." He whispered in your ear, a low sigh escaping his lips before he kissed your forehead. He was relieved you wasn't annoyed with his sudden, early return. “It didn’t cost a fortune.” He groaned. “It will look nice when your ankles rest on my shoulders.” He chuckled.

"I'm so glad you are." You murmured softly when he kissed your forehead. "I was so worried something had happened."

You pressed a kiss on his cheek. "Do you want to stay in for Christmas? Or do you want to go to a dinner party or something?" You knew how much he valued his time, so you would gladly give him the choice.

Another low sigh escaped his lips as you kissed his cheek, his tired body leaning into the light affection you gave him. He let his eyes close for a moment but opened them when you asked a question.

He considered the options. "I'm pretty tired, honestly," he mumbled, leaning his head against yours. He wanted nothing more than to simply feel your presence by him.

"Then we're staying at home." You smiled. "I haven't seen you in a few months. And I would rather be with you than anywhere else."

"I can run you a bath, when it is Christmas I'll make some dinner." You mused. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

That was his ideal Christmas holiday. Spend it comfortably with his partner. No parties, no socializing with people you didn't know.

"That's perfect," he mumbled. A bath would feel great right now; his bones felt like they were going to break as soon as he let his guard down. "You can spoil me for the day," he said, his face lighting up now that he knew you’d be staying home.

"You would like that, wouldn't you." You teased him. You gave him a playful slap on his ass. "Let’s get your stinky ass in a bath." You grinned, as you kissed his cheek again.

You walked in front of him, placing the ankle bracelet on your nightstand before you went to the bathroom with him, it was a gorgeous gift, and you loved how he paid attention to what you wanted.

Simon laughed softly when you gave his ass that playful slap, his muscles clenching from the unexpected touch. It might not seem like much to others, but those little acts of affection were everything to him.

He followed behind, his steps slower than usual. Exhaustion weighed down his body, making him feel almost drunk. His muscles ached in the worst way possible. However, the bath was everything he needed to fix that.

"I hate to ask...can you help me wash?" He couldn't help but ask, the weariness showing itself in his voice.

You loved it, and he wouldn't know how happy it was making you, Simon always wanted to care for you, for others.

"Of course, lovie." You said with a smile, as you helped him undress.

You could see how tired he was, exhaustion from being a soldier oozing out of him. He leaned on you, and you knew this was all he needed.

It was almost ironic how he, a man of his physique and stature, was relying on his partner to help him with a simple, everyday task. It was almost funny how he was acting so pitiful; the man who usually carried the team's equipment was now having his clothes stripped from him.

Still, the simple act of you helping him made him feel closer to you and made him feel taken care of. It almost put tears in his eyes, but he was too tired to display such emotion. All he could do was lean against you and simply let you do your thing.

You didn't mind, not at all, you had leaned on him plenty of times, and you loved that you could return the favour.

You rinsed him first under the shower, getting rid of most of the dirt and grime, before you guided him to the bathtub. You let it fill up with warm water, before you leaned in to kiss him, helping him step into the water.

"There ya go."

Simon sighed contently as he felt the warm water against his skin, his muscles no longer hurting quite as badly as they were. The stress and tension just melted away. He let his eyes close again, leaning against you. You were doing him such an act of kindness. He hadn't been this relaxed in so long, the last few months being nothing but an endurance test.

"I could kiss you so many times right now," he mumbled with fatigue, his voice raspy and low from disuse.

"You're too tired to kiss me." You teased him. You took some shampoo, your shampoo, the nice, expensive one, and you lathered it in your hands. You took place behind him, softly massaging his scalp with the shampoo.

"I'm too tired to function right now," he groaned. Still, that didn't stop his body from reacting to your touch. Your hands felt like they were melting away all of the tension in his muscles, the scent of the shampoo being a bonus.

It wasn't long before his eyes closed and his breathing slowed, the last few drops of adrenaline leaving his body as he relaxed completely. It always baffled him how you made things so easy and simple, taking care of him and making his life better than it had ever been.

You used the shower head to rinse out the shampoo from his hair.

After that, you used your bodywash to lather your hands again, softly massaging his shoulders with the soap. Any other day you would’ve joined him, teased him in the bath until he dragged you to the bedroom. But you could see he was too tired, too exhausted and he needed a break.

"I love you." You whispered softly.

Simon let out a relaxing moan when you massaged his shoulders, the tension leaving his body more with each slow touch. He almost couldn't believe he was still on earth. Things were going too perfectly.

"I love you too," he murmured, and that was the truth. It was no longer butterflies in his stomach when he was by your side. Now it was warmth, security, and a sense of overwhelming belongingness.

It had been the same for you. You didn't get butterflies when you saw him, unless he was all dressed up, or bone naked, but he made you feel at home, he made you feel like you belonged in the world.

You work your thumbs into the tired muscles of your lover.

"Nearly done, my love." You murmured softly. "I'll dry you off once we're done."

Your touch felt like a comforting, calming blanket being draped over him. Every ounce of stress and tension was releasing. It was like being back in your arms after a long day, his body getting the much needed attention it deserved. He was already ready to nap once this was over.

"Thank you..." He mumbled, feeling like he should be doing more in this relationship, rather than simply accepting your care and love. Oh but he was doing so much more than he gave himself credit for. He loved you unconditionally and that was the best thing he could do.

You emptied the bath, helping him getting out of the tub, after that you took the fluffiest towel you could find, slowly drying him off.

"Let’s get you to bed, Si."

Simon smiled and closed his eyes again, appreciating how the towel felt against him. It was so soft and warm. Like a hug.

"I'm not being too demanding, am I?" He mumbled softly. The last thing he wanted to do was be a handful to take care of. But with how exhausted he was, it was hard not to melt into the towel and simply relax.

"Demanding?" You repeated. "You're anything but demanding."

A soft kiss is pressed on his chest. "I would do anything for you. This is nothing." You reassured him.

You took his hand, guiding him and his naked body to your bedroom.

You took off your jeans and socks before you got into bed yourself, and before you could say or do anything he was between your legs, his arms around your waist, his head resting on your lap.

Simon's mind went fuzzy at your reassurance and affection. Was he really this loved? Could he have done anything worthy of such unwavering devotion?

He was the one who should have been doing more for you, not the other way around. Yet you still took care of him, took care of everything. Even when he was acting so pitiful and incapable of doing the simplest tasks.

His body reacted appropriately to your warmth; his arms wrapped around your, his muscles tightening as he clung to you.

You took your book from the nightstand, running your free hand through his hair as you let out a content sigh. He was home, and that was all you could ask for.

“What are you reading?” Simon muttered softly, while he tried to keep his eyes open. “Haunting Adeline, it is quite good.”

Simon perks up. “Are you out of your mi-“ He chuckles when he sees a different cover and he let’s himself sink into your lap again. “I nearly went off on you, you idiot.” He scolded you, lovingly of course.

“How do you even know it?” You muse, your hand running through his hair again.

Simon closes his eyes once more. “Soap bought it to impress a woman he had been dating. The idiot read it out loud to us, before we would go to sleep. He tossed it out really quick when we realised it was glorifying sexual assault and Zade was nothing more than a rapist.”

“Soap did good with that one.” You chuckle. “Tried to read it, had to put it down because I was so disturbed.”

“Hmm.” Simon mumbles as he feels the sleep wash over him. “Tonight I want you to read for me.”

"Merry early Christmas, lovie." You whispered, not sure if he would hear you. "Couldn't wish for a better gift."

The heat of your body was so blissful. The comfort that came from just lying with you was unlike any other experience Simon had ever had. When you were close like this, in a bed, he had no urge to protect his surroundings. He was at ease, his heart beating slower from the sheer joy he felt.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered back, drifting into the most restful sleep he's had in months.

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nova--spark · 11 months

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Earth 101 : A Manual for the Visiting Cybertronian

Chapter Three : Human Holidays Part 1

As a part of most human religions, there are special days celebrated all across planet Earth in accordance to the beliefs of their people.

A number of these holidays have similarities to our own Cybertronian holidays, as their emphasis tends to be that of showing appreciation for the people around them, or for the sacrifices of those that came before them.

A great many interviews were done with our human allies, many of various cultures and backgrounds so that this guide could have many for us to understand.

As the human calendar hosts several holidays within its ranks, this chapter will be divided as to not exceed the word limit and attention span of the reader who may be going over this guide.

We shall begin with the month of January, and will continue in the order of months onward!

Within the month of January, there are a small number of holidays that Earth celebrates.

January 1st is dedicated as ‘New Year’s Day’, a ‘Year’ being what Earths calls a Vorn, but lasts only a singular Orbital Cycle. This particular holiday is celebrated as the beginning of the year, and the day prior, is spent awake till the last minute of that year, then celebration ensues as the New Year begins!

Well, at least the new year for most Western countries, or at least, those who celebrate it on what I believe sources call the ‘Roman Calendar’.

January 6th is dedicated to a Latin American known as ‘Three Kings Day’, and is also known as the last and 12th night of the Christmas holidays [to be expanded upon later in this chapter]. This holiday is celebrated with exchanges of gifts between families, as well as the sharing and consumption of a special type of holiday sweet known as a ‘Rosca de Reyes’, which appears to have plastic toys of human offspring inside, in a bizarre human tradition of finding it.

However it would appear often the humans do NOT wish to find these toys and chose to instead hide them in their mouth, rest of their food, or even swallow them.

Editor’s Note: Apparently swallowing these bizarre toys is rare but is still a baffling choice.

Chinese New Year is also celebrated within the month of January and at times in February, and is the beginning of the lunar new year, a cultural difference. These celebrations can last several days, entailing wonderful parades, festivals, family gatherings, gift exchanges, and many many wondrous traditions which are meant to bring in good luck for the new year to come. The ending of these celebrations are sent off with a beautiful lantern festival, which I hope perhaps I may witness.

February is next and is host to an equally beautiful amount of holidays.

Valentine’s Day is a holiday which humans celebrate on the 14th of the month, and is dedicated to the romantic bonds they have with their courted or with their conjux endura, which is known on Earth by the terms of boyfriend/girlfriend/partner and wife/husband/spouse.

Romantic moments are shared on outings of various kinds, and gifts may range from treats like human made sweets, flowers, jewelry and all manner of gift from low cost to expensive.

However, it would appear that non-courted or single humans still celebrate this day, choosing to instead celebrate their bonds of friendship, and Amica, even familial bonds with their Caretakers and siblings.

Such a holiday to celebrate loved ones in all their forms in a sparkwarming sight, and many a Cybertronian has adopted this holiday into their own lifestyle, myself included.

March is host to many a religious celebration, of which I feel that I must not cover at this time, as so to not disrespect the customs which I am currently not well informed of.

However, I may indeed speak of the holiday known of as Saint Patrick’s Day, celebrated on March 17th, which according to a human liaison, entails quite heavily of drinking the human equivalent of high grade Energon throughout the day and well into the night. It originates from the land known as Ireland, if records are correctly noted.

It is celebrated with various parades and also entails of celebrating a creature known as a ‘leprechaun’.

Editor’s note: I have been informed the creature mentioned is not real, and is in fact, just a mythological being in human folklore. I was quite concerned indeed to hear of a mischievous creature smaller than a Mini-Con who apparently carries around a pot of gold.

April is a month which has a rather interesting set of holidays.

April 1st is regarded as April Fool’s Day. As it appears, this human holiday is celebrated by the playing of tricks, pranks and other mischievous acts big and small, and they are done all in good fun. It is a quite enjoyed holiday as it appears practical jokes of this form are often taken well by most humans, though some do not like to do them and do not participate.

It is here I must pause and implore you, my dearest reader of this manual, that Commander Ultra Magnus warns any mech and femme looking to participate in this holiday must abide by certain rules.

We do not want a repeat of last orbital-cycle’s incident where the Wreckers somehow welded a large quantity of the base's furnishings onto the ceilings.

We are still not quite sure how this was achieved and would rather it not be recreated this cycle, as we are still struggling to remove the remaining welded furnishings.

Any pranks of this caliber and their culprits will have to undergo a formal reprimand and undergo a seminar about proper protocol in accordance.

Also in the month of April, is the celebration of Easter, commonly celebrated on a Sunday and is known as a religious holiday in origin.

However, with the passing of time, different traditions have also taken hold, and is now commonly celebrated as a coming of the Spring season.

Families will often hide what are known as eggs, candied, plastic or even hollowed animal eggs filled in with various goodies ranging from miniature toys, confetti paper, and small treats and sugar confections for human sparklings to enjoy. These treasure eggs are often painted in various bright colors, patterns and more, and are collected in equally colorful and delightful baskets.

This celebration is often times connected to the Terran animal known as the rabbit, who in many Terran religions is known to be a symbol of the coming spring and life.

That said, though the holiday of Easter is known to have the ‘Easter Bunny’, these creatures do not in face lay eggs of any kind, and is a common misconception.

Once again, dear reader, we take this time to inform you that there is indeed no such creature as an anthropomorphic rabbit, the Easter Bunny is often just a human disguised as a large rabbit for the pure enjoyment of the children celebrating this holiday.

Do not attempt to chase, capture, trap, or in any other way bring harm to said figure should you come across one, as they are harmless and just humans having a bit of entertainment.

This rabbit disguise is used often when hiding the treasure eggs, and so we implore you do not disturb the adult human’s task of doing so.

Lastly, we strongly suggest that any and all mechs do not by any means attempt to disguise themselves as said Easter Bunny, as we do not need a repeat of the last time someone tried to transform whilst wearing said suit.

We sincerely hope your knowledge of Terran holidays has been expanded with this initial dive to the many many celebrations throughout the Terran orbital-cycle!

Any and all queries regarding further analysis and explanation of these holidays and their origins are to be related to the human archivists and liaisons in our ranks who may give differing explanations but nonetheless enlightening.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #maccadam #maccadams #tf prime #tf bayverse #tf rid 2015 #tf rid15 #earth 101 : a manual for the visiting cybertronian #nova writings #nova notes

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seldomscilence16 · 9 months

Text

Alright so this all started with a lego set at work, turned into a long ass intro, then its 11 on Christmas Eve and I decide to just do the Christmas snippet and finish the rest/context later.

So please ignore spelling 😬 and Happy Holidays all! Also TW for a bit of Racism at one point, theres a bullying scene but a short one. "Well if it isnt..." is where it starts and "there a problem here." Is where it ends.

Hope you enjoy this snippet! Stay safe everyone and thank @autisticlancemcclain for the Bug boy Lance!

...

Lance could kick himself.

He knows better than this. He knows what happens, he knows that once they get what they want, they'll leave.

And yet, here he is, spending hard earned money, on four classmates. Sure he'd saved them for last, focusing on his families gifts first and foremost- its the main reason he got the job, part going to saving for emergencies, the rest to spend on Christmas- but he was doing the thing he'd sworn off.

No people. People hurt and use and lie and tease. Lance was supposed to he strong until college, his fresh start, but then these four had to go and be NICE and do their part and- yeah the bar was really low...

"This isnt going to end well." He mumbles, the hustle and bustle of the mall overwhelming with holiday traffic and leaving him worn out before he even enters an actual store.

He scans aisle after aisle, berating himself for putting so much thought into something he wasnt even supposed to be doing. His eye catches something green and he comes to a halt. Its legos, one of those collectors sets that costs an arm and a leg, but Lance hadn't even known Lego did THIS.

'The insect collection'.

"Blue Morpho Butterfly, Hercules Beetle, and a Chinese Mantis." He breathes in awe, eyes scanning every detail.

"Well if it isnt Mclame."

His head snaps up, a group of classmates before him, most of which are his very reason for his No People rule.

"Still a freak about bugs I see, surprised you havent married one yet- maybe even they dont want you!" He snorts when he laughs, a strange noise from the back of his throat that remind Lance of a Donkey or Pig.

"Not like he could even afford it, if you want you can have your mom come clean my house." One girl taunts from the back, Lances blood boiling at the blatent racist remark despite Lance's CUBAN heritage.

"If you do have money to spare you should buy me lunch instead, for having to be in your vecinity for this long." Another boy plugs his nose, like he showers every day. Lance sits behind him in English, and he does not.

"There a problem here kids?" A man in the mall security uniform eyes them all carefully, eyes giving Lance a once over that makes him uncomfortable.

"No sir." He replies polity, deciding another store may hold better finding anyway- at least better company.

....

Lance's budget was low to begin with, but eventually he comes up with ideas for the four.

It starts with Hunks treats. The things that get them through their library sessions when the projects blur. And Lances job allows him access to plenty of people who would love to share things with anyone who will listen. So painstakingly, Lance translates recipes to paper as the older generations he enteracts with give him a little baking show.

Shiro's, surprisingly, comes next. A single comment about how much he hates ruined shirt sleeves, as they get caught on his prosthetic port. Its winter, and tank tops simply wont do, so Lance finds himself knitting in his spare time. Doing hours of research to see what possibilities will be the most comfortable, with of course a very lame joke on the front.

Pidge's was an accident. Lance's bike- sabataged it would seem- leaves him crashing off path in a ditch on his way home from work. He ends up limping his way through thick folliage, dragging a broken bike in the late hours of the afternoon. The little squeak is almost ignored, the second one however, well its Lance.

The little thing is a puffball, Lance was almost sure it was a toupé, until it moved and blinked at him. He thinks its a dog, no idea what kind, but its tiny and fluffy and following him home. Lance has three allergic family members, but Pidge mentioned a family dog who had sadly passed away and nearly broke Lances heart. The green eyes tell him this little thing will be a lovely match.

Keith is the hardest. Lance honestly almost buys a knife, because the guy is a conspiracy theorist and gets into way too much trouble not to have a few knives on him. But it doesnt seem right.

But Lance see's how often he doodles.

Freakin gorgeous doodles.

Then he finds the brand 'Keff Artistry' and its too close to 'Keef' for Lance to pass up.

...

He almost tells his family to simply lock him up and burn the gifts, but then they'd be worried and he's trying to avoid that thank you, hes been doing an excellent job masking his turmoil thus far.

So, the day before Christmas Eve, Lance gathers his gifts in trembling hands, and slips out of the house unseen. If this turns into a mess, he'll deal with it himself this time. He has to grow up eventually, he cant keep crying about bullies to his family, its not a big deal anyway.

"What the heck happened to your face!?" Pidge's incredulous tone has everyone eyes snapping towards said face.

"Its nothing, bike accident." Lance shrugs it off, as he'd done when he'd come home with it, he had too little proof anyway. Anyone could have carved 'McLame' into the side of it.

"Accident huh?" Its mumbled by someone, but Lance cant place it and decidedly ignores it anyway.

"I uh... have gifts... for you guys." He changes the subject, directing the attention to the bags he carries.

"For us?" Hunk asks, eyes wide and sparkly, "You know you didnt have to buddy."

Well, supposedly.

"Yeah, its not much, but uh, here." He hands them out carefully, extra careful with Pidge's.

"Guess its a good thing we brought ours to you then." Shiro says, pulling a wrapped box from the spare chair.

Lance's eyebrows furrow, staring at the box in confusion, perhaps with a little trepidation,

"You guys got me something?"

"Yeah! We all pitched in!" Pidge grins at him, something she does sparingly- grin that is.

He takes it with clammy hands, still shaking ever so slightly. He holds it to his chest as he watches the others open their bags, watches their faces carefully.

Hunk holds the hand bound book tenderly, eyes shining as he flips through the pages carefully.

Shiro stares in awe at his sweater, a chuckle escaping him as he runs his fingers over the soft material.

Pidge squeaks, as the small dog bumps its head against her face, cold nose sniffing excitedly. She holds the animal close, the dog snuggling up like he always belonged there.

Keith is staring at his gift. The art set held half out of the bag, as if he hadnt been expecting it. He turns wide eyes towards Lance, and the cuban can see the emotions there.

This is one of Lance's favorite parts about giving. When he did good in the eyes of the reciever, when they LIKE what he gave, genuinely. No matter its monetary value.

"Lance, this is amazing." Shiro breaks the silence, turning wide eyes his way, smile big and bright and real.

"I cant imagine how long this took, this is amazing! I havent even heard of some of these!!!" Hunk is tearing up, book hugged to his chest, grinning at Lance like he'd been given a great treasure.

"I cant believe you got me a dog! He's just a little puff!" The excitement is so nice to hear, its practically contageous.

"I... havent recieved something this nice from anyone but family before. Thanks Lance." Keith is downright shy as he admits this little fact about himself, and Lance could cry.

"I'm... really glad you guys like them."

"Now open yours!" Hunk encourages quickly, sitting to watch him intently, practically vibrating.

Lance could almost feel scared, but....

He allows himself a little hope.

He opens the paper gingerly, savoring his first gift from anyone outside of family. A corner is revealed, familiar for some reason, another inch-

Lego Ideas The Insect Collection.

"What-" It comes out choked, shock clear on his face.

Is it a joke? Are they mocking him? It was expensive, theres no way they'd spend that much on a joke right?

"Its the one you wanted right?" Pidge asks, a slight pinch to her brow.

"We only saw you from across the mall, so we didn't know- You're crying oh Gods, whats wrong Buddy-" Shiro Panics, quickly kneeling by the chair Lance had collapsed into.

"I don- Why- I can't- "

"Breathe! Come on-" Hunk exagerates his own, encouraging Lance gently to follow as he chokes on tears and air and spit alike.

"Its not a joke right?" He finally gets out, looking pleadingly to the group, running a reverant hand across the box, "You did this to be nice?" He can hear the vulnurability in his own voice, but he's about a second from breaking completely.

"Yes, yes, of course! All 1,111 pieces are inside!" Shiro assures quickly, rubbing a soothing hand over his shoulder and arm.

It gets a wet chuckle from Lance, as he pulls the box to his chest once more.

"No ones... thank you so much, I can't... can't tell you how much this means." He wipe at his face, "I'll repay you, I promise-"

"Hey, its a gift Lance." Keith says, voice softer than ever, "We wanted to get it for you."

"Merry Christmas Lance."

"Merry Christmas."

#fic #my writing #voltron #langst #snippet #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #hunk voltron #keith kogane #takashi shirogane #bullying #angst #happy ending #merry christmas #happy holidays

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darkdevasofdestruction · 1 month

Text

Chapter 14 - Goddess of the Luo River

It was already a week before New Year's, and Kitsune's days were numbered on the fingers of both hands. It was maddening the Demon Prince, terrifying him for the first time - That he will experience a loss that would leave his heart shattered in pieces forever. He was afraid that, if Kitsune died, he would be incapable of falling in love again - As profoundly as he loves Kitsune - And he would become just like his father.

He did not want to become like his father.

They celebrated a weird version of Christmas a few days prior, but for Kitsune it hardly meant anything. She couldn't fully understand the meaning of Christmas, not the birth of the Biblical figure of Jesus Christ and what it means to the religious Christianity cult; For most people, Christmas wasn't a religious festivity, however, it just meant a reason to celebrate and exchange gifts - Though even that was lost of the fox lady. She hardly had any Grimm to buy anyone gifts - So she went with Mammon to buy gifts - Generic, low-cost Christmas things that meant nothing to her; A scarf, a snowy globe, some mittens - Of course, the Greed Avatar was the happiest with his money gift.

On the other note, Kitsune received some expensive gifts - She was surprised she received anything at all though; It was quite sad - But with time, he was sure she will be able to understand the spirit of gifting to your loved ones. A nice outfit, a rare book, a lovely make up set, a gorgeous pair of shoes - But she couldn't understand the value of money in her own world, let alone in the Devildom. She'd lived through too many eras and currencies.

"Are you all ready?" Kitsune asked as everyone gathered in the House of Lamentation. It was the 'Day of Death' ritual she had to do every year at the shrine - A celebration of death and appreciation of life - A day where the souls of the deceased can roam the earth once more, and mingle with the living - A custom only she could do.

As everyone affirmed they were ready to go, Diavolo teleported them to the human world. Everyone was dressed appropriately, elegant as never before; The priestesses guided them to the long banquet table, serving them wine, sake and meals of all kinds - All that while watching Kitsune perform, in front of a crowd of humans. They were not allowed to take photographs or film anything; They were a very select few, who would brave the wilderness just to see their beloved for a few hours.

The Sun was about to set down, and the festivity was to begun. Kitsune now stood in the very middle of the stage, looking down with perfect stillness at the people present. "In a festival where we celebrate life - We must also learn to appreciate death." she began. "When one life ends, another begins - And when one begins, another ends - Such is the circle of life that none is exempt from." what a harsh reality that must be for humans, the demons thought to themselves; Though perhaps this idea of a circle of life - A Samsara - The Afterlife and Reincarnation proved to make death easier for them; Death wasn't the end of life, but just another journey.

"From the time we first cry into this world, after crawling out of our mother's womb, to the time we last take breath, and our remains are burnt, ashes scattered into the wind, to grant us our lasting freedom - We must celebrate life, in all its forms, from the littlest, to the biggest, oldest, and youngest, plant, beast or human, oni, youkai, kami, gashadokuro, yurei, and everything in between." the demon Lords were familiar to some of the entities mentioned, thanks to her extensive care in choosing their Hyakki Yako costumes for the Demon Parade. "In this day, we are blessed to communicate with the skies - Share our messages to those who are no longer amongst us - And they, too, will caress our faces once more." at once, from inside her sleeve, Kitsune took out that magical fan of hers, and with the beat of the instruments, she began dancing - The moves were unlike anything they've ever seen - Not that they've witnessed many such ritual dances, let alone fan dances, or anything that wasn't from the Devildom. - Diavolo, like the others, felt trapped in her trance, and he was sure, all of them were enchanted, one way or another. Her moves were fluid and each movement held perfect discipline, to create a most outstanding show.

As the Sun finally set completely, Kitsune snapped close the fan, driving it back inside the sleeve, only to retrieve something else - It was a her Gohei wand, with the handle a crimson red, and an a golden crest on top - It was the Sasarindo, as Shingen informed, a symbol of the Minamoto clan, the imperial bloodline. From it, two rows of flowing ropes, adorned with paper squares glued together, painted from white, to gold, in perfect gradient - It acted akin to a wand to her, Solomon thought to himself, as he watched the way she danced with it, only to throw it up in the sky, and with a foreign incantation, looking up like a shaman praying to nature's elements - Mystical lights that looked like ghosts and wisps started illuminating the night sky, brighter than the stars, as if the souls of the deceased were descending from Heaven - And as the wand fell back in her grasp, the lights disappeared.

"Let us celebrate, together, as brothers and sisters!" the stars were invisible, as large, colourful fireworks bombed all across the sky, all the way, until you couldn't see the horizon anymore - Intricate shapes of all kinds, and they dances, and swayed around, depicting stories and folklore that though they couldn't understand, they still could appreciate the grandeur of it.

The luminous wisps that looked like fireflies became corporeal - Elderly, children, men and women - They all reunited with some living person from the audience. Mammon picked on an elderly man, barely holding himself up with his cane, smiling warmly as the spirit of his young, beautiful wife engulfed him into a hug - He felt like crying, realising the elderly man would crawl the whole dangerous and perilous wilderness, just for a chance to his the woman he loves once more time before they are reunited.

Luke started sobbing into Simeon's chest, pointing towards a child looking very much like him, brought here by his grandparents, was weeping and hugging his phantasmal parents who died young. They would hug him, kiss him and listen to all of his stories - He just started school, and he loved learning - He wanted to become an astronaut, so that one day, he would be able to visit them among the stars.

Solomon found himself gritting his teeth as he watched a teenage girl nervously approach the spirit of her grandmother, holding a worn recipe book in her hands. The grandmother had passed away before she could teach her granddaughter how to cook the family’s traditional dishes, but now, the girl knelt beside her spirit, carefully following her grandmother’s gentle guidance as they prepared a meal together—one filled with love, tradition, and the bittersweet joy of a reunion that transcended time.

Levi sniffed, hugging himself with his tail as he noticed a elderly soldier casually hanging out with his teenage best friend and comrade - A true friendship that lasted for decades as he's always wished for, a loyalty and comradeship he's not experienced even when he was the Navy Captain; The living was wearing the old war uniform proudly, to show his respect and love for his fallen friend. The man held a box of old, weathered comic books that they used to read together, their shared love for heroes and adventures alive once more. They spent the night flipping through the pages, laughing at the same jokes, reminiscing about the imaginary worlds they had once explored together, and for a moment, the years that had separated them melted away.

Beel, for once, wasn't unable to eat; The infinite void in his stomach was temporarily filled as he saw a man kneeling before the spirit of his younger brother, who had died suddenly in an accident. The man held out a small, worn baseball glove, the same one they used to play catch with as children, and the brother’s spirit grinned, taking the glove in his ethereal hands, the two of them tossing a ball back and forth like they used to, reconnecting over a simple game that meant the world to them both.

Asmodeus also had to cling onto Solomon and carefully wipe away the tears - But not the perfectly applied make up - As he saw a living man, on his knees, before his heavily pregnant wife... She had died, along with their child, before she could give birth... And the man was hugging her belly, sobbing inconsolably and asking for forgiveness.

Simeon felt a pang of pain in his heart as he watched as a group of siblings, all now adults, gathered around the spirit of their mother, who had passed away when they were still children. They each took turns sharing stories of their lives, telling her about the families they had built, the careers they had pursued, and the way they had carried her lessons and love with them through all these years. The mother’s spirit smiled, her presence a reminder that she had never truly left them, and she kept kissing their foreheads and cheeks, just as she did to them as children.

Lucifer found himself deeply moved by a woman who sat alone, holding the spirit of a withered rose in her hands. The rose had been a gift from her late husband, given to her on their first anniversary, and though it had died long ago, the spirit of the flower bloomed with the moonlight once more in her hands, its fragrance bringing back memories of the love they had shared, a love that still lived on, even beyond death. Satan watched quietly as a young mother, her eyes heavy with sleepless nights, cradled the spirit of her infant child in her arms. The baby had passed away in its sleep, and now, for just one night, she sang a lullaby that only the two of them knew, tears mingling with her song as the spirit cooed softly, comforted by the familiar melody.

Diavolo found himself deeply moved as he watched a man kneeling before the spirit of his estranged father, who had died before they could reconcile. The man held a bundle of letters - Apologies he had written but never sent. The father’s spirit reached out, and as they embraced, the man felt the weight of years of regret lift, replaced by a profound sense of peace. They spent the night talking, finally saying all the words that had gone unsaid in life, finding the closure they both needed. Would this be how he and his own father end up?

EvenBarbatos paused in his duties, his usual passive visage holding a bittersweet smile as he watched an elderly woman, frail and bent with age, as she danced slowly in the moonlight with the spirit of her long-lost lover. The two had been separated by war decades ago, never to reunite in life, but now they moved together in perfect harmony, reliving the joy of their youth as if no time had passed at all.

That old woman was Aiko and her husband who died in war.

As the servants took care of the attendants, Kitsune returned back to the shrine, where she was able to change into a dancing outfit, but she hadn't returned to her guests - She remained in the middle of the court, looking up into the dark sky. The smoke from the fireworks had dissipated, and the stars were twinkling as powerful as ever.

"I never imagined even demons could cry." Aiko's elderly voice resounded among the guests, startling them. "Ah, of course, forgive me - I forgot some of you were angels... And wizards too."

"Darling, don't tease them so much." her husband's smile was dazzling and charming, Diavolo noted - No wonder she loved him for so many decades.

"I am glad to see you again, Aiko. You are happy, just as you said." the Prince smiled at the joyful elderly woman.

"I had been waiting 67 years to reunite with my beloved, Little Lordling. Of course I am happy." the husband gathered her in his arms, a tear escaping his eye as he kissed her forehead.

"And I have missed you every day, looking down at you from the skies." his voice was so soft and tender that it made Asmo and Mammon hug each other and cry like babies. They were so weak when it came to romance.

"Lady Aiko - Why is no one going to Kitsune?" surprisingly, it was Satan asking. He remembered her distress during the game - Surely, she would have at least one person to want to see her... Right?

"We are a bunch of elderly ladies, Little Demon." Aiko said, pointing towards the spirits of the mikos who slowly gathered around the fox lady. "The Princess raised us all as her own children - We owe her everything." she smiled gently, looking at the poor fox lady sobbing as her children embraced her and expressed their gratitude. "We had nothing - That's why she took us in. Some of us were were refugees, some lost our husbands, children or family and had nowhere to go... Some were born here... Others came to seek a change... But whatever the reason for us being here... The Princess nurtured us as if we were her own children, and taught us everything she knew... History, language, culture, art, literature, poetry, war, spirituality... Everything."

"A mother should not live to see her children dying." Simeon found himself bitterly speaking.

"Quite so, Little Angel. The poor Princess experienced far too much loss... She should not be lingering longer amongst the living. She should take her place among equals that she could cherish forever." the priestesses vanished, as if to push Kitsune towards her guests.

"Kitsune, you were so beautiful!" Asmo chimed as sweetly and enthusiastic as ever.

"Yeah, you were so cool! I'm jealous on how cool you were!" Levi joined also.

"Those fireworks were awesome!" Mammon said also.

"I thought her all about gun powder." said a foreign voice that everyone jump in surprise - A man with silvery-white hair and a snake-like smile had appeared just to her side; To think even Kitsune would be caught off guard. "Well - I suppose I can only be glad the apprentice overshadowed her master... Not that you'd shoot your musket better than me."

"Mitsuhide!" the fox lady chirped - A fire fox and a silver fox were staring at each other.

"So I was called!" he turned towards the feast with a mock bow. "To think you'd replace us so easily - My, little fox, you wound me!"

"W-Wait, no -- It is not like that -- I could never --" the stupefied woman stuttered over her words so cutely; Few times anyone witnessed her so speechless.

"What did I say about teasing the Princess?!" from behind her, a tall man, more burly, with messy brown hair and a frustrated expression on his face, like that of an exasperated mother scolding her misbehaving children. "Mitsuhide, back off!"

"Ah, it's Lord Nobunaga's lapdog... Shouldn't you be looking to become a doormat by now?" the silver haired man sniggered elusively, enjoying the raise he gets out of the other. Hideyoshi was so easy to work up!

"Will you two stop this charade already? You are making fools of yourself." this man was blond with shorter messy hair, dressed in autumnal colours and an apathetic look on his face.

"Lord Toyotomi, Lord Akechi, please stop your fighting. You are upsetting the princess." came a softer reply from a grey-haired man, smaller, but no less elegant. It was Ishida Mitsunari.

"Ieyasu..." Kitsune threw her arms around her best friend; "My friend, how I have missed you so!" it was Ieyasu and his wife and confidante, Lady Saigo, with whom she spent most of her time after Nobunaga's death - He was young, intelligent and interested in medicine; Likewise, Lady Saigo was well-read in history, politics and war, but also talented in arts of all kinds. She had the best of times spending time with them... And nurturing their children. It was then that she learnt how to take care of people - The influence was a good one, as the priestesses said.

"What about me?!" came a loud, brash yet playful voice - It almost sounded like Mammon whining for attention.

"Shut up, cyclops!" both Kitsune and Ieyasu snapped at him, only to look at each other and stifle a chuckle.

The tall man with long black hair and a single beautiful blue eyes was Date Masamune, the One-Eyed Dragon of Oshu. He was the only trusted friend that Kitsune and Ieyasu had while building the Tokugawa Shogunate; He was wearing a disheveled blue outfit and a black eyepatch over his missing left eye - He had taken it out by himself when he was 14 and afflicted with smallpox; Truly, he wouldn't have cared about it, but Ieyasu warned him an enemy might grab his dangling eye and incapacitate him. What a menace.

"N'aww, c'mon, lemme join the hug!" Masamune threw his arms around Kitsune and Ieyasu, squishing them together.

"Lord Date, please back away. That is no way to treat a Princess." Mitsunari sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, Mitsunari, don't you know? When you see something cute, you have to squish them to death. Perhaps that is what Masamune is trying to do." Mitsuhide sniggered under his breath.

"Masamune would never hurt Princess Kitsune and Lord Tokugawa." Hideyoshi got in Mitsuhide's face, having a verbal altercation again.

"That's right - I would never!" Masamune let out a boastful laugh - And then started pulling on her tails, wrapping himself in them. "But I do like a nice scarf!"

"Hey - My tails are not scarfs - Leave them alone, Oni-brain!" much to the demons' shock, Kitsune started chasing Masamune around as if playing tag - He was the youngest of the Sengoku Lords she befriended so intimately - And it was showing. They were behaving like two children, Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi were arguing with each other, and Mitsunari and Ieyasu were trying to pull them away. They weren't unlike the Demon Lords in their childishness.

"Princess Kitsune has forgotten her manners as usual - How quaint!" Aiko laughed heartily. "Your old mentor would have your head for this misbehaving!"

Eventually, they all sat down at the table, wining and dining merrily, sharing stories of all kinds - Like one silly family to the other. Eventually, some of the younger priestesses came by, and they also got social and friendly with the Lord on both sides. Once they were drunk enough, they started chanting Kitsune's name, their alcohol cups up in the air.

"That's right - Haven't seen Princess Kitsune's dancing in a while!" Masamune threw his arm around her shoulders, making her hunch from the sudden pressure. The ogre was drunk as hell.

"Oh, I'd love to see Kitsune dance! I bet she's a lovely dancer!" Luke was the first to chirp up.

"You should hear her singing, little mouse~." the silver fox chuckled, watching the chihuahua blush and protest at his nickname. "Like a precious nightingale."

"How come you never sang for us, Kitsune?!" Asmo whined playfully.

"Come on, sing for us." Simeon urged her.

"You are awful - All of you - You know that, right?" the poor girl sighed pitifully, getting up from her seat.

One of the priestesses brought the zither to Ieyasu to play for the Princess - His wife taught him well - And thus, Kitsune started singing in a voice as mellow and sweet as a ripe fruit - And her dance was as graceful as a swan. The guests were marveling at her beauty, while those familiar with her endeavours were cheering on her, equally mesmerised by her enchanting magic.

She is lightsome as a startled swan-goose, As graceful as a roaming dragon; Her lovely complexion outshines the autumn chrysanthemum, Her radiance surpasses the springtime pine.

She is as nebulous as the moon concealed in light clouds, Gracefully gliding, as snow spun by a flowing wind. Gazing at her from afar, She shines like the sun rising above the rosy mists of dawn;

Observing her close by, She is as luminous as a lotus emerging from clear ripplets. ...

Her singing and Ieyasu's zither playing all stopped in unison at the sound of a flute taking charge, dominating the scene. Everyone knew who he was, without a need for introduction. Lord Oda Nobunaga wore a serene expression as he played the bamboo flute for Kitsune to play to his tune.

In perfect sync, the Princess danced around him with the beauty of a pink lotus and the grace of the Phoenix Empress. The universe had created them for each other, only to rip them apart. Her smile was wide, like that of a woman in love, and she was glowing magnificently.

Their outstanding performance soon came to an end, and the two soulmates looked into each other's eyes so deeply and full of love. He wore a confident smile on his face. Nobunaga waved his hand at Ieyasu to play the melody for the only song he knew to be danced in pair - That of the valiant Prince going to war, and the Princess rushing after him, worried - She was struck down, and died in his arms, leaving him all alone, with his only comfort being the bloodshed of the battlefield.

It wasn't much unlike their own story, they often thought, as Nobunaga rose her up with ease, spinning around; Her flowy dress and sleeves danced around with herself, like a butterfly on a peony. Every move, every caress, every look their shared - They were all special.

Everyone applauded them - The dance of two soulmates fated to never be together - Then allowed them to settle at the feast, where they would converse more. Nobunaga was eccentric and talkative, yet his words were as wise and truthful as always. He earned easily everyone's respect - And poor Diavolo had to see the love of his life clinging onto his arm, her head on his shoulder - Will he ever earn her love? Or will she remain pining for this admirable Lord?

They stood around the table having a merry time until morn, where the Sun was beginning to illuminate the sky; Once the stars started disappearing, so did the wisps. It seemed to Diavolo that Kitsune might have forgotten this bliss wasn't permanent - Though he would have loved nothing more than to see her as happy as this night... Even if he wasn't the cause of her joy.

"It was an honour meeting all of you. Be well." Mitsunari was the first to disappear.

"N'ahh, what a killjoy! Mitsunari has always been so boring - Always glues to that GO table of his... How lame!" Masamune groaned loudly, drunk out of his wits.

"At least he is not as dumb as a rock - Cyclops." Ieyasu next to her sighed dramatically.

"Exactly --" Kitsune turned to her Shogun friend - But he wasn't there anymore. Her heart began panicking fast-paced. "No... Not yet, no... Not again... Please... Do not go..."

"What a cutiepie!" Mitsuhide hummed, getting up and bending at the waist until he reached her eye-level. "You're too cute to mourn the dead for so long, Princess. Lighten up." he booped her nose and disappeared into smokes before the fox lady could reach out to him.

"No, guys, please -- Stop it!" she was then tugged by her tails; Masamune held a wide, boyish grin on his face, and he waved at her, fading away into nothingness. "Not again... Stop... STOP! STOP!" distress was evident on her face as her friends had died once again before her very eyes - And they will continue to die again, and again, and again, until she is no more. The pain of loneliness was harsh and sharp; A twisting stab right to the heart.

"Do not mourn us, Princess. We are content where we are. And we are looking after you - Always." Hideyoshi patted her hair, like an older brother comforting his sobbing little sister before leaving for war, never to return.

"This always happens." Nobunaga sighed solemnly. "Did I not tell you that, if you start crying like that again, I will stop coming to see you?" his comment made the fox lady shake, immediately clinging onto his kimono desperately.

"Please don't leave me. Not again." her soft pleas were in vain. "Take me with you."

"You never change, do you? Always a cute cry-baby." he let out a low exhale of amusement, raising her hand to wipe away her flowing tears. "When I died, I told you to find a reason to live - And keep on living. Shatter the heavens, reach Godhood and reign over the weak." he held her tightly into his chest, caressing her hair as she sobbed uncontrollably. "You are a woman worthy of being a Queen - So become a Queen." he continued. "Stop crying over a dead man, and move on. You have found a true man worthy of your affections." he placed a kiss on the crown of her head. "He is a good man. Trust him, the way you trusted me."

With one unexpected move, Nobunaga cupped her face and brought her into a deep, loving kiss. "You will always be the only woman I ever loved, Kitsune -- But you must forget me and move on." such a bold, truthful declaration of love shattered Diavolo's heart. Lord Oda Nobunaga was a respectable man in every sense of the word - He perfectly understood why Kitsune was so in love with him... Because he was equally in love with her. So in love, in fact, that he was willing to let her go, just to see her happy. What a man.

Nobunaga slowly pried himself away from the girl's clutches, and walked towards the middle of the court - And he uttered a most eccentric phrase - A phrase that those who were stuck in the Sengoku no Kokoro game remembered well and vividly.

"WORSHIP ME! DIE FOR YOUR CRIME OF DEFYING THE HOUSE OF ONE HUNDRED DEMONS, AND REPENT IN THE AFTERLIFE! THERE ARE NONE BEFORE ME, AND WILL BE NONE AFTER ME! I AM THE DEMON KING OF THE SIXTH HEAVEN, ODA NOBUNAGA!"

Kitsune ran as fast as she could, throwing herself at him - That smile, that expression, that face - Forever engraved into her retina - And she passed right through his smokes, tumbling to the ground, her hands grasping into the air to catch the fumes, yet holding nothing in the end. Every year... Just smoke and mirrors.

With a desperate, raw cry into the skies, Kitsune bolted out of the shrine grounds, and into the forests, away from anyone that could find her. To think that such a bittersweet night could end so tragically... None of the guests expected the degree of misery they experienced. Not to this degree, at least. Luke, especially, was the most confused and upset - Kitsune was so happy with that man, then he disappeared and she was so sad - He hated seeing Kitsune upset. She was very nice to him - Luke hoped she would never have to cry of sadness ever again...

But Simeon knew best, the torment of Kitsune's heart. The chaos and agony that she's been feeling for so many centuries... He could feel it all, a heavy pain that appears into his chest whenever she is around him - Thus is the extent of her sorrow. Of course, Solomon lived for many centuries also, and he could relate well with her - The amount of people he loved that he had to watch wither away and die, while he remained young, beautiful and very much alive... It wasn't an easy existence, but he had to make the best out of what he got.

"Diavolo, I think we better wrap up for the day." Lucifer was the first to regain his senses, getting the Demon Prince's attention.

"Yes, of course." Diavolo got up from the table. "Lady Ayaka, thank you for your hospitality. It was a pleasure learning more about your customs. Humans are truly fascinating." Diavolo smiled at the new lady Kitsune put in charge. "Lucifer - Please bring everyone home." he needn't continue further; Everyone knew he was going to search for Kitsune.

"Lord Diavolo, please be patient with the Princess. She is... Very fragile - But she cares dearly for you." Ayaka implored the Lord, who merely smiled at her with reassurance.

"Don't worry - She is very dear to my heart also." thus, he took off into the mountains after her.

The mountains were wrapped in a veil of early morning mist, the air cold and crisp, yet filled with the scents of pine and earth. Diavolo trudged through the dense forest, his usually confident demeanor marred by an uncharacteristic tension. He had spent hours searching for Kitsune, guided only by the faint traces of her spiritual energy that lingered like whispers in the wind. He hadn't expected the forest to be a labyrinthine maze, trying hard to trap him, never to see the light of day again. Each step he took was heavy with the weight of fear—fear that he would be too late, that she would slip through his fingers like sand.

The landscape around him was both beautiful and foreboding, ancient trees towering above, their branches reaching out like the hands of forgotten gods. The path was treacherous, winding and narrow, yet Diavolo pressed on, driven by a desperation that gnawed at his very soul.

Finally, he found her.

Kitsune stood on the edge of a cliff, her figure a silhouette against the pale dawn light. The soft rustling of her kimono was the only sound in the stillness of the mountain, save for the distant call of a lone bird. She gazed out at the horizon, her back to him, seemingly lost in her own world—a world of memories, of love lost and love found, of pain and solace.

Diavolo approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. As he drew closer, the weight of her sorrow became palpable, an invisible force that pressed down on him, threatening to suffocate him. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, how to comfort someone who had endured so much.

“Kitsune.” he finally called out, his voice gentle as always, as if to not scare a baby fawn.

She didn’t turn around immediately, but he saw the subtle stiffening of her shoulders, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes red and swollen from tears she had shed in solitude.

“Dia…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Without another word, he closed the distance between them, his arms instinctively reaching out to her. Kitsune hesitated only for a second before she collapsed into his warm embrace, her body trembling as she buried her face in his broad chest. Diavolo held her tightly, one hand gently stroking her hair, the other wrapped protectively around her waist.

For a long time, they stayed like that, the silence between them filled with unspoken words, with shared pain and love. Diavolo could feel her heartache, her struggle to reconcile her love for him with the loss she still felt for Nobunaga. Kitsune loved deeply - And he was privileged to be on the receiving end of that also.

“You don’t have to carry this burden alone.” Diavolo murmured into her hair, his voice soothing. “I’m here for you, Kitsune. I always will be.”

Kitsune pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were filled with tears, but there was a determination in them that took Diavolo by surprise. “Dia...” she began, her voice overflowing with emotion. “I… I’ve tried to move on, to let go of the past, but Nobunaga… He was... He was my everything... I can’t just forget him.”

Diavolo’s heart ached at her words, but he nodded, understanding. He knew, if he was in her position, he would have felt the same for a man as special as Nobunaga. “I know, my darling. I know.” he replied softly. “And I would never ask you to. Nobunaga will always have a special place in your heart." he reassured her he was sympathising with her - Diavolo had always been so patient and understanding of her, Kitsune often felt she was overstepping his love for her. "As long as you keep a special place for me also."

Kitsune’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked as if she might break down again. Instead, she reached up, cupping his face in her hands. “Dia… I love you.” she confessed, her voice trembling. “I love you so much." she confessed dearly. "But it hurts… it hurts so much, because I still love him too... And I don't want to hurt you also with... This - This... Everything that I have become."

Diavolo felt his heart pounding against his chest; He couldn't see Kitsune so sad and conflicted, it physically hurt him. “Love isn’t something that diminishes, Kitsune.” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “It’s something that grows. Your love for Nobunaga doesn’t take away from what we have. It only makes your love bigger, stronger.” he spoke sweetly to her. "You are one woman who cares so deeply for those she loves - And that love of yours can never dissipate, no matter how much you try. It is not a weakness, nor something you should run from. It is who you are, my love. It is what makes you - You."

Kitsune let out a shaky breath, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all she found was love - A deep, unwavering love - Only for her. “I’m scared, Dia...” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Scared of losing you, of losing myself… Of everything.”

“You won’t lose me. Ever.” Diavolo vowed, his voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Kitsune." something in his words, in his tone, seemed to reach her. Kitsune closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if drawing strength from his presence. Then, with a soft sob, she threw her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go.

"I don't want to die, Dia. I don't want to die." after so many months of her boldly admitting how she desired death above anything else - To just disappear from the face of the earth forever - She finally found her solace, her reason to live, her safe haven - Her soulmate. "I want to live forever, by your side. I don't wanna die - I want to be able to love you for the rest of my existence. I don't want to ever lose you, Dia. I love you so much - So much that I'd go crazy if I lost you too."

Diavolo held her just as tightly, his heart swelling with love and determination. He thawed away her icy shield, and allowed her to feel the sweet relief of love that he's been trying to offer for so long; The comfort and warmth of his warm embrace.

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the mountains, Diavolo whispered one last promise into Kitsune’s ear.

"I want to marry you, Kitsune."

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#the kitsune's spell #obey me #obey me x oc #obey me imagine #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo x kitsune #obey me diavolo x oc #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo imagine #obey me diavolo

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thesoftboiledegg · 10 months

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A couple of thrift stores have opened in my area in the past year. I didn't expect to find any merchandise, but after @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you showed me the Rick and Morty sweatpants she found at Marshall's and I thought about the crazy finds on @shiftythrifting, I figured I'd give it a shot.

And who knew: it was time for a thrift store roundup! 👚🧦

The first store had a section for gifts and accessories. My expectations were low, but when I rounded the corner, the shelves were loaded with Rick and Morty stocking stuffers. The first thing I saw was this bathrobe:

Hmm, that's a cute figure...maybe someone should draw Rick wearing that. 🤔

This sock packaging is adorable. It looks like a pint of ice cream!

On a similar note, I actually thought these were cans of pickle juice. Adult Swim has no problem selling Toxic Rick and Shrimp Rick energy drinks, so it wouldn't be off-brand, but nope: they're boxer shorts that advertise your SWAG.

I realize that Swag is the brand name, but selling Pickle Rick boxers with SWAG on the waistband isn't exactly helping the show's bro-y reputation. The can is cute, though.

Let's all celebrate Rickmas...with Pickle Rick!

Evidently, socks are a hot item. I think they're the new ugly Christmas sweaters.

In fact, Cool Rick wants you to buy these socks!

And you can complete your outfit with festive sweatpants.

Next stop: Marshall's. They continued the theme with an advent calendar. 12 days of socks!

Advent calendars have been getting more luxurious over the years. Some people spend hundreds of dollars on calendars loaded with jewelry, ornaments, food and beauty products. Apparently, 2021's most expensive calendar was custom-made and cost $10 million. Must be nice!

Anyway, back to the proletariat: I love the design on these boxers. OK, maybe Rick didn't think it through, but he's proud of his gift!

More sweatpants! "Anatomy Park" is one of my least favorite episodes, so I'd ask for the receipt for that one.

I did think John Oliver's character was funny. "Would you like to ride...the bone train?"

Finally, I went to Five Below. They had one of the strangest pieces of merchandise I've ever seen: a projector that casts a picture of Rick and Morty underneath your car.

I could see somebody doing that once for Halloween or another event, but all the time? Wearing merchandise isn't enough--you have to represent the show while you're driving? Are guys hoping that Dan Harmon will see this and be so impressed that he makes out with them a little?

Then again, I guess there's a reason it has a clearance sticker.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #five below #marshall's #thrifting #thriftstorefinds #thrifstorefinds #thrift store #roundup

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davidlcki · 2 years

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christmas!battinson?! kissing under the mistletoe? snow fights in the garden? baking cookies? PLEASE

wayne manor christmas

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH THANK YOU ANON THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! happy early holidays everyone! i hope you all enjoy, although my writing skills aren’t at 100% currently.

pairing: pattinson! bruce wayne/ reader

warnings: none :)

you woke up this morning with a start. bruce however was not ready to get up, moaning tiredly as you roll over on top of his sleeping figure.

“bruce! come on let’s get up!” you whisper shout as you card your fingers through his black hair. he opens one eye to peer down at you.

“what’s the occasion?” he asks sarcastically, his voice was low and hoarse from sleep. you roll your eyes and sit up, tugging him by his arm until he unwillingly stands up. once he was on his feet and you smothered him with kisses, he began to perk up and even show you one of his rare smiles. what made this morning better was the snow that was steadily falling outside. it was christmas morning and you were too eager to head downstairs and exchange presents with bruce.

“here’s yours my good sir” you hand the present to him gracefully and watch eagerly as he rips off the wrapping. his eyes visibly light up as he observes your gift to him. it was an expensive watch that he had been eyeing for MONTHS but never got around to buying.

“my watch! i love it, thank you honey” bruce kisses your lips gently and you could feel him smile against you. “here, open yours”

you open the present quickly, too excited to see what lies inside. once pulling the box open, you were met with the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen. he knew your taste perfectly. you were too afraid to ask how much it cost.

“bruce! it’s beautiful, thank you!” you nearly knock him backwards as you throw your arms around him and kiss him all over for the second time that day. the two of you spent another hour, talking and opening your smaller gifts for each other. before deciding to bake cookies for the christmas party you were hosting tonight.

“do we really have to host the party?” bruce asks, to which alfred gives a glare.

“yes, master wayne. it would be good for you to connect with some old friends, don’t you think?”

“plus we can show off our christmas decorations” you give an encouraging smile and pull out the christmas cookie ingredients.

baking took a lot longer than it should have. you were either throwing flour at each other, or shielding the raw dough from bruce who would have eaten it all if you let him. but alas, you eventually got the cookies baking in the oven.

“mission accomplished!” you high five bruce, which creates a cloud of flour. bruce had white handprints all over his clothes, and on his nose and cheeks.

“you got a little something” you point at your own nose, and bruce gives you a scowl.

“really? i didn’t notice” he throws sarcasm at you, and sticks his hand into the pile of flour on the counter. before you could react, he had rubbed it all down your face and shirt.

“oh my god!” you smack his hands away and gasp with shock, although a smile was tugging at your lips.

the two of you ended up showering while the cookies baked, and by the time you were finished getting ready, people were arriving for the party. you and bruce were in ugly christmas sweaters that you insisted would be cute to wear as you greeted guests that arrived. you enjoyed catching up with old friends, and even though bruce wasn’t enthusiastic, you could tell he enjoyed the socializing at least a little bit.

you both had an overwhelming feeling of normalcy, not having to worry about crime in the city as much, it seemed batman’s presence had really made it die down. it felt good to be able to breathe, and have something as normal as a party.

an hour in, the two of you were socially drained. you stood off under a wide doorframe, lost in a conversation that you didn’t have to force out like around guests. suddenly, bruce looks up. furrowing your brows, you follow his gaze and notice a mistletoe hanging above the two of you. you look back at him, giving him that ‘really?’ stare, along with a playful smile.

“did you plan this?” you cock your head to the side, bruce copies your head tilt and steps closer to you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” he shrugs and places a hand on your waist. his other hand gracefully balanced a wine glass. you on the other hand, nearly spilled your drink down his back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you connected your lips with his, the kiss was passionate, a kiss reserved for when it’s just you and him (how convenient that the mistletoe is just out of the party’s eye?). no matter how long you’ve known bruce, every kiss felt like the first with him. the sparks never fade, but only grow stronger. hell, you felt like a highschooler.

the party flew by quickly with the help of being tipsy, and when you gave your farewells to all the guests you noticed the snow outside. the light from the moon bounced off of the powdery substance and you guessed there was maybe 2-3 feet of snow now. you gave bruce the look, and he immediately shook his head no.

“please!!” you clasp your hands together and show puppy eyes in a silent beg, and bruce quickly gives in.

in an instant you were in your winter clothes and out into the night, trudging through the snow filled garden with a childlike wonder in your eyes. you turned to bruce to speak to him, but were instantly met with a snowball to the shoulder. you gasp in fake shock, and you suddenly felt like you were in a gunslinger stand off. the two of you made eye contact, waiting to see who would make the first move. quickly, you run behind a bush and begin to create snowballs that you hurled at bruce. you managed to dodge (most of) them, but when you popped up from your bush again, you noticed he was gone. carefully, you creep through the garden, armed with two snowballs.

“bruuuuuuceeeee” you sing out teasingly, tossing the snowball up and down in your gloved hand. before you could even react, bruce pops out from behind a tree and charges at you. you manage to throw one snowball before he gets to you, and sends the two of you crashing to the ground. you let out a scream, followed by laughter from the both of you. you take a breath to calm down, but fall into a fit again at the sight of bruce’s face absolutely covered in snow.

“oh that’s funny?” he teases, grabbing your face and shaking the snow off of him onto you.

“hey, hey!!!” you grab his own face to stop him, the two of you were now dripping with melted snow. you kiss one of the snowflakes off of his cheek near the corner of his mouth, and when you pull back he catches you in another kiss on the lips. you smile against him and kiss back eagerly.

“can we go back inside now?” bruce’s voice was shaking slightly as he smiled at you, and it made you aware of how cold you were yourself.

“good idea”

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #batman imagine #batman one shot #the batman #bruce wayne #batman #pattinson!bruce wayne #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson one shot #robert pattinson #fanfiction

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