#made me forever remember a character that had completely slipped my mind

[tawus]

opla final thoughts: i want each and every one of them to ride my face

[shotgunbunny]

Anon who asked if you take requests here, i wanted to ask you if you could write a third part to lumberjack!ari because he doesnt want to leave my mind 😩 i read both fics yesterday and ive been thinking about him non-stop. If you want and can could you write a third part where he got his little wife pregnant, her period is late but doesnt wanna get him excited for nothing so she goes by herself in town to buy a pregnancy test. He finds out and goes home mad, ready to punish her but once he gets there and sees the positive pregnancy test all his anger goes away and all he does is kiss her and praise her for being such a good wife who will soon give him a baby

༻𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬༺

WC:3.1k+ GIF by evansensations

{soft!dark!lumberjack!Ari x pregnant!reader}

{Warnings!! Soft!dark!Ari!! Ari being possessive!! Mentions of sex!! Mentions of abortion but like just the word!! Being pregnant!! Morning sickness!!}

Like real people do {part 1}

Eyes always seeking {part 2}

Ari was much softer after that night in the hot tub. From his glaces at you to how he held you. It was as if he was trying to apologize for how rough he could be through his gentle affection. And you were loving every second of it. It was such a change from his usual character. You were used to sharp glares and steeled looks and now when he looked at you, you saw adoration swirl in his blue eyes and a smile on his face. His hands that once held you so firm, now cradled your waist as he burried his face in the crook of your neck to drink your scent in and leave gentle kisses.

You had no idea why he had changed but you couldn't bring yourself to complain as you adored bathing in his love. Everyday after work you would make dinner and he would eat every bite with a peaceful smile on his face. Followed by him asking for dessert which always resulted in you on the kitchen table with your skirt of dress pulled up and Ari feasting on your pussy until you coated his beard with your essence. He devoured you everytime and would ask for a kiss in return. Loving Ari got easier by the day, and he couldn't help but let himself drown in your love.

Ari had changed after that night due to the overwhelming love he had for you. You accepted his gift and thanked him endlessly making his ego sky rocket. He knew that it was a gateway for an attempt to escape yet you never even tried, the thought had never crossed your mind. The fact that you had never even thought about running away from Ari made him soft. You wanted him just as much as he needed you. Being so gentle with you was so simple and easy that he fell into it. He loved holding you so closely and ghosting his lips across your neck. It was as if the final jigsaw piece finally slipped into place and Ari felt complete.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

It had been a month since that night and Ari had made love to you nearly every night whispering sweet nothings to you while he wrapped his arms around you and showered you in his love. Every moment was perfect in the Levinson household now that things had changed and Ari had opened his heart to you fully.

You remember when you were laid across his chest listening to his heart beat, your head rising with his breathing. Your hand was interlaced with his after a night of love making. You stared up at him, mapping out his beauty so that you could forever remember his glory and write about it in a poem one day. He glanced down at you before holding your gaze. He raised an eyebrow at you, and you giggled making his heart beat faster causing you to blush.

"What are you looking at, little love?" He said it so softly yet his chest still rumbled almost like a purr. You kiss his chin and he hummed producing the purring noise again. "You. You're so pretty Ari. Thank you for giving me your heart." His ears turned red and he smiled so gently. He brought your joined hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles and brought them back to lay on the bed. "Pretty? I've never been called pretty, but I'm glad you find me so appealing little wifey," a beat passed and his arms tightened around your waist. "Thank you for giving me your heart first little wifey. It's my most treasured item."

You blushed and giggled, everything he said was like poetry and it made butterflies errupt in your stomach. "I promise to protect your heart forever my handsome husband." Ari grunted, his eyebrows knitting together causing him to frown. Your heart sped up and you couldn't help but fear you had said something wrong when he suddenly kissed your forehead. You looked up at him and spoke it a hushed voice almost as if telling you a secret. "You shouldn't protect my heart, my love. That's my job. I'll defend every bone in your body, I'll protect your heart and soul, and I'll always keep you safe." And just like that you fell further in love with him.

You cherished that memory so dearly, yet the next morning wasn't as romantic. You awoke feeling so ill and ran to the toilet, you were as quiet as possible as you left the bed yet Ari immediately felt you leave and his heart raced. He heard the sound of you heaving in the toilet and quicky approached. He stared, worry swirling in his iris's as he saw you with your head in the toilet bowl. He walked over slowly and caressed your back, before gathering your hair out of your face.

When you were done, you groaned and felt Ari's hands leave you before you registered him returning with a glass of water and some medicine, you smiled up at him and thanked him.

That should have been your first sign but you assumed it was the new takeout that Ari had brought you last night, and he assumed so too. When you threw up the next morning Ari remained asleep. And it kept continuing, you'd get up and be sick while Ari slept peacefully. You hated it so much, throwing up nearly every morning was causing your mood to change to fast that Ari didn't know what to do. He assumed that it was your period yet didn't mention it as he was scared of offending you or upsetting you.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You had woken up to empty you stomach again, early in the morning. You flushed it away and brushed your teeth, trying to think of what could be wrong with you. You spat out the remnants and rinsed your mouth with water before heading back to bed. You cuddled up to the sleeping bed, needing his heat after running out of it and into the cold. You decided to keep your ill episodes secret, you didn't want Ari to change how he was with you. Logically you knew he would take care of you and make sure you were okay, but the otherside feared he saw you as a sick wife he didn't want.

You sighed and stroked a lock of his hair out of his face before heading to sleep too. You were awoken an hour later by Ari's soft lips pressing on your forehead and a whisper of 'I love you.' before he headed off to work. You hummed and cuddled closer to Ari's side, breathing his scent in. You relaxed and fell back to sleep, dreaming of Ari and him building a treehouse.

You slowly awoke again, much later in the morning and yawned. You reflected on your dream and smiled, Ari as a dad would be so perfect. One day you'd have your own but for now you were happy hogging all of his attention. You knitted your brows together. Thinking of pregnancy sent your mind racing until it lingered on the big question: When was the last time you had your period? You gulped. It must be late.

Yet the more you thought about it the more things made sense. Your increases sex drive which Ari was thriving off. The sickness you were enduring every morning. Even how your eating habits had changed. Your heart raced. You needed to settle your mind, with a determined huff you dragged yourself out of bed and remade your bed. You decided you needed to go to town and get a pregnancy test.

You put panties and sighed remembering how they felt. You hadn't worn any in such a long time because Ari often claimed he wanted easy access to his wife. You chose to wear a simple dress and glanced outside. It was sunny, so you'd skip the jacket. You smiled, you hadn't been to town in such a long time. You decided to do a bit of glam, and decided to do a cute look so that you didn't look overdone, but you definitely looked pretty. You grabbed your bag and stuffed your phone and purse in, before heading down the stairs.

You slid your shoes, you hadn't worn them in a while either. Ari hadn't let you leave the house, but why would you want to leave, everything was so beautiful here. And Ari had made so much of the furniture that you often marvelled at it. You grabbed the pair of keys that dangled on the side and headed out and locked the door. You decided to call an Uber to get into town. You smiled, maybe you'd go and see friends. You shut that thought down quickly remembering how Ari had told you what they were really like. You were so grateful for a man like him, he took such good care of you.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw your Uber pull up. You checked that the door was locked and headed into town.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Ari wiped the sweat from his brows after delivering another blow to the tree he was currently chopping down. He felt his phone buzz and he groaned before he pulled it out. He saw a text from his friend Richard, his heart started racing. Richard had agreed to help keep an eye on you, especially if you decided to wander.Suddenly all the heat he was feeling from the sun and his work disappeared, as he felt ice settle into his blood. There on his phone was a crisp picture of you in town.

His jaw tightened and his eyes fired up with rage. How could he be so stupid as to let his guard down. Ofcourse you'd wander, you're so curious about the world. He'd chain you down when he got you home. That was for certain, he'd teach you a lesson on trying to leave him. He dislodged his axe from the tree and threw it at the ground in a fit of rage before he stormed off to his truck and yanked the door open. He got it and slammed the door shut before speeding off home.

He'd wait for you at home, so you could do your walk of shame and give your shitty excuse as to why you'd even dare leave the sanctuary he had created for you. He parked his truck before unlocking the door. He practically kicked it open and closed. He stomped to the living room and sat brooding allowing dark cloud to linger over him and rain dark thoughts into his mind. He crossed his arms across his chest and he let out an angered huff. He'd wait for you.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You were browsing the aisles with a shy look on your face. You kept your eyes down until you reached the feminine health section. You looked around and strolled past the pads and tampons, you swallowed. What if it was just a late period and you were over reacting? You sighed it was better to be absolutely certain rather than letting your mind torment you. You looked at the variety of tests. There were so many options. Your eyes glanced until you saw the named brands and you decided to grab 2 to be absolutely sure.

You headed to the self checkout with the clutched in your fist and scanned them both before pulling out your cash. You never remember having cash in your purse, maybe Ari put it in there. Your heart fluttered at his selflessness. He was such a good husband. Although you haven't had a proper ceremony yet, he did manage to get you both married with the forms. You cried tears of joy that day, you were officially Mrs. Levinson. But you couldn't help but ache for a beautiful church ceremony, and Ari had promised that soon he would grant your wish.

You put the tests in your bag as well as the receipt before heading out and ordering and Uber back home again. Your heart was speeding up at the possibilities and soon your hands began to shake both out of fear and excitement. Your Uber pulled up shortly and you began your journey back after a short trip into town. No one had really noticed you or cared.

And that was all thanks to Ari and his subtle threats at town meetings. How he had staked his claim on you in front of all the folks. How he had waved your certificate of marriage in all their faces and then told them if they wanted to keep their houses warm and their buildings etc. Then they'd obey his rules when it came to you. Ofcourse you were oblivious to him manipulating the whole town, and believed his every word when he claimed that they didn't care about you except him.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

You got out of the Uber and immediately noted Ari's truck parked outside. You were trembling, did he know? You had no other option but to bite the bullet. You sucked a breath in and slowly headed towards the door and opened it. You slid your shoes off and hung the spare key up. You turned around and jumped at the enraged look in Ari's eyes. Your eyes immediately filled with tears and before he could even utter anything mean out you babbled out, "I'm sorry! I don't know! But if I am we- we can have an abortion or something!"

Ari stopped functioning. His eyes went blank and his mouth went agape. He stared at you and your timid stance. Your eyes filled with tears and your bottom lip wobbling. You stared at him begging, pleading for any sign from him. Yet he was too busy in a loop of thoughts.

'Abortion.' That's all that echoed in his head. They are linked with pregnancies. And that would mean that you're pregnant. But that's impossible because you had your period. However Ari had been presumptions about it and when he thought you were, you had sex and there was no blood. Over and over his thoughts looped. His mind flashing with possibilities when he heard you voice sad and soft breaking him out of the inner discussion in his brain.

"I-I don't know if I am. I don't wanna get our hopes up." Ari immediately bundled you in his arms keeping you close. You weren't leaving him. You were potentially having his child. He felt his heart grow ten sizes, he pulled away and looked down, a stern look still planted on his face. "Why were you in town?" You gulped and reached into the bag pulling out the two pregnancy tests. Ari's eyes widened. His heart started racing suddenly coming to terms with the fact that he could potentially have gotten you pregnant. He might be a dad.

He gulped and looked down at you, "Have you taken them yet?" His voice was a whisper and you glared up at him. He was just too happy over what might be happening to realise how silly his question is. "They're still in the box. So no I haven't." You snapped at him. Ari felt more puzzle pieces connect. Your change of mood, the strange food you started eating. He stared down at you. "What are you waiting for? Take them."

You both ran upstairs, you went into the bathroom and Ari stood outside pacing, stroking his beard feeling every second drag on way longer than it should have. You came out and looked at him. "It takes about 2 minutes. I've left them on the side." Ari drew his eyebrows together before he headed towards you and gathered you in his arms. "Listen baby, all the sign point towards yes. But don't worry too much about my reaction okay. I'm happy if you're pregnant or not. All that matters is that you are okay and healthy." You stared up at him and nuzzled into his chest.

You felt safe, you felt loved. You both stood there embracing the moment not knowing what to do or how to act. You just simply stayed in each others arms where you knew it was safe and loving. Where nothing bad could attack, and nothing cruel could hurt you. In that moment you were just Mr and Mrs Levinson. And that's all that mattered.

When you pulled away, it had been way over 2 minutes. Ari looked down at you. You half smiled before heading into the bathroom and letting out a sigh. You looked down at both tests and tears gathered in your eyes. Ari felt his heart race at your watery eyes. You turned to him with a massive grin on your face holding both the tests. "I'm pregnant!" Ari had never moved so fast. He scooped you up in his arms.

He felt tears gather in his eyes. You were pregnant with his child. He was going to be a dad. He finally had a family. "You're pregnant baby!" You giggled wiping your tears and wrapping your arms around his shoulders hugging him tightly. He pulled back and placed his forehead against yours. "We're going to have a baby!" He whispered it so excitedly that you giggled. He put you down gently and you stared up at him seeing nothing but love reflecting in his eyes.

"We're gonna have a baby! You're gonna be a daddy!" Ari immediately began to smother you in kisses, making sure to kiss away all those tears. His anger from earlier melted in seconds, he was glad you went out. He pressed a kiss to your lips. Pulling away and swiping hair behind your ears, "You make so me so fuckin' proud mama. You're gonna have my kid! You're so fuckin' amazing!" You both smiled and laughed.

Ari looked down at you, his eyes returning to concern, "You haven't had morning sickness though?" You looked down shyly before gently saying, "I have. Every morning about an hour before you start work it happens. And I can't wake you because you look so peaceful when you sleep." You pouted. Ari immediately tilted your chin upwards, he stared down at you sternly, "Listen here wifey, I don't care how peaceful I look. You wake me up, you let me help you. It's my job baby. I need to take care of you. Got it?" You nodded and kissed him.

He smiled and his features softened up, upon feeling your lips against his. He was so happy in this moment, he couldn't stop kissing you and holding you. He admired every part of you. Feeling nothing but love fill his bones and his blood. You both stared at each other, drowning in adoration when Ari spoke again, his voice was a murmur and all you could hear was a rumble due to your head on his chest. "You're so perfect wifey, you're giving me a child! God I'm gonna keep you pregnant forever baby, that's a promise."

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Dark felix Caton who sees beautiful girl (reader)at uni. He became obsessed with her right away. But then he finds out reader already has a bf. Then he plot an evil plan. He befriends readers bf and ask him to join him during summer vacations to saltburn. Felix also says he can bring reader along with him too.

Reader is hesitant but eventually accept the offer. Soo that's where felix would begin to corner reader whenever she's alone. Reader try to tell her bf about it but he turns her down too occupied by the lavish lifestyle. Finally felix get reader alone with him and r4pe her.

I´m sorry you had to wait this long dear anon. I really hope you enjoy this though. Your other requests will still be coming soon as possible though. I promise I have not forgotten and am not ignoring <3

To get you alone (dark!Felix Catton x reader)

synopsis: He always had his eyes on you, however you had thought naively that he wouldn´t go past that.

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non consensual sex, smut, semi public sex, p in v, unwanted attention generally, mentions of reader being in a relationship with Oliver, afab reader

word count: 1.6k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: I tried to not be too graphic with this one, I still advise anyone reading to proceed with causion. SA is a real and serious topic and if you don´t feel in the right spot for reading this that is completely fine. Remember to be kind to yourself and you are loved!

Dividers by @saradika

Felix Catton. If you were to be asked what you thought of Felix your answer would most often look something like “Yes, he's pretty handsome…” but beyond that there was very little you knew of the rich boy and that in and of itself made you wary of him. Especially because he seemed to go wherever you went. Mischievously sparkling eyes trained on your every move from the second you entered the grand hall for the welcome celebrations. Now, normally you probably wouldn't mind it that much, hadn't it been for someone else's sudden infatuation with whom your friends had jokingly begun to call your stalker.

You had met Oliver years prior, when your parents somehow for some reason befriended his parents. Well, not for some reason, they were lovely people, but nonetheless. Soon after that he had asked you out and with how nervous he looked you couldn't help but accept. It was really cute. Oliver was attentive and perfect and even if his friend Michael was a bit weird by most standards, it seemed like he was looking out for your boyfriend as well, as much as he could. But he was the first part of your life that Felix got his fangs into. Until you found yourself at the Catton’s estate over the summer instead of going home for the first time in forever. It was nice of him to extend the invite, his family was mostly nice in that dysfunctional, rich people way. Still, despite everything you felt like an intruder. No matter how often any of them insisted how great it was to have you there. Something felt off. Like a spell had been cast on Oliver so he couldn't see how weird his new so-called friend was. Ignorant to every slip off the hand underneath the table at meals or outside, every lingering glance at the pool, every oh so innocent seeming, hidden unwanted comment.

But especially to the frequency with which you found yourself trapped alone with the brunet rich kid. His hands resting on your hips as he leaned down to you, eyes sparkling with spoken and unspoken comments. Things he had dreamt doing to you, you did to him, things he wanted to try. It all fell upon deaf ears, no matter who you told. Venetia was the only one who even made the impression to believe you, but even her response was kept to a minimum. Keeping silent about it to the world, not doing anything to actively help when you told her how uncomfortable you felt alone with her brother.

No one ever expected the great Felix Catton to do something bad, he was just making jokes, you were told, but you knew better than them.

Walking through Saltburn, you are distracted by mentally chiding yourself for still getting lost after having spent so much time there already. The constant, silent barrage of curses blinds you to the person walking towards you.

“Whoa there.” The voice and steadying hands on your upper arms quickly give away that it isn't Farleigh or your boyfriend you ran into, like you had hoped so dearly. Or even James or Duncan or literally anyone else but the person standing in front of you. In an attempt to bring distance between the two of you as fast as possible, you stumble backwards however and almost fall into the little coffee table behind you, prompting Felix´ hands to go right back to your arms.

“Are you okay?” He asks over a huffed chuckle, eyes glowing lightly with mischief as always.

“Y-yeah, thanks.” You rasp a short answer, dusting yourself off to get away from solitude with him as quickly as possible.

“Not so fast.” He stops you by holding out his arm to block the way to freedom. “Did I do something to offend you?”

The question nearly shocks the air out of your chest, fists balling instinctively as there is only one question that crosses your mind in return. “Are you serious right now?”

“Uh, yes? Why wouldn´t I be?” The baffling response is accompanied by furrowed brows and a still slightly amused quirk of the corner of the lip.

“Felix, it´s nice that you invited us here, but I´m not blind. I see the way you eyed the girls back at uni. I see the way you look at Olli and I see the way you look at me, have been looking at me for months and by God I´ve felt your hands when you thought no one is watching.”

Listening to you intently, Felix’ facial expression shifts to one less light. A knowing smirk replaces the half smirk and his brows relax, the brown of his eyes darkening to almost black.

"Oh, did you now? You notice everything, don't you?" The brunet straightens his back to tower over you. One of his large hands coming up to grab you by the chin. His thumb languidly swipes over your lower lip. “Aren't you just the cleverest girl?”

“Felix…” you whisper hesitatingly, too tightly in his hold to make another attempt at fleeing. All that you can do to keep him at a small distance is to cross your arms over your chest. An obviously futile, but desperate move that, perhaps rightfully so, gets chuckled at, before they get pinned above your head.

"Tell me, do you ever think of me instead of Olli?" Felix huffs above you.

“What?” Outrage burns it´s way through your veins, but as quickly as it ignites it is shut down again.

“Do you ever think of me when you are with Ollie.” Felix repeats slower this time, stepping even closer, even though it had seemed impossible prior.

For a moment you don´t know how, or if, to respond, biting your lip and averting your eyes to put off answering as much as possible. However, failing when his fingers dig deeper into your chin to turn you back to him. You nod, ashamed.

"Say it." He demands. "I want to hear it from your beautiful lips."

"I think about you every time I am with him. I think about you when I touch myself at night, imagining it's your fingers making me come until I can only moan your name." The confession isn't entirely true.

If you were entirely honest, your mind has shifted once, but you knew he wouldn't be happy with that. His breath shudders and you know he bought the lie.

"Fuck you're such a naughty girl. Thinking about me when you have him. And to admit it so freely." He chuckles

"Oliver could never touch me like you do. He could never make me feel as good." You continue lying, hoping to any deity that would listen, it would make this whole torture be over faster.

Far from it was the case obviously. Felix lets out a low growl, swiftly leaning down to capture your lower lip between his teeth. Soothing the bite by pulling them into an unreciprocated kiss immediately after. It´s as if it happened solely to make one thing unmistakeably clear. He wanted you. To be desperate and beg him for more. He wanted you to need him just how much he needed you. And more.

His tongue presses against yours as he roughly moved the two of you away from the table, pinning you against the nearest wall. Even less time is wasted to push aside and open any clothes that potentially could be in the way of the one thing Felix had wanted to do to you ever since he had first laid his eyes on you. Letting go of your chin, his hand hooks underneath your thigh to ease himself into you painfully slow. His presence alone rendering you incapable of any clear thought of fight or flight. A realization at which he lets go of your wrists to grope at your breasts. Felix' own chest heaves with heavy breaths and quiet moans, held back as to not alert any of the staff nearby. Meanwhile you barely feel like you are in your own body anymore. It's like watching him from above as he did whatever he wanted to your limp body. The nausea, the tears pricking in your eyes as his lips latch onto your neck to suck his marks into it, they all feel so distant yet so overwhelming. You can see his lips moving, but the sounds are drowned out by a high-pitched ringing sound. Numb to the way his fingers dig into your skin or how every thrust of his hips pushes you back into the wall, head rolling from side to side as you try to drown all of it out even more. Again, futilely.

Still your inaction brings Felix enough enjoyment to keep on going for what feels like forever. His touch is so meticulous, so blushless, he is so focused on just violating every boundary you had tried to set up with him ever, he doesn't even see you anymore. How much he is hurting you. And if he does, he doesn't show much care for it.

You are lucky in a sense though as well or maybe it's just another cruel joke by the gods. As soon as Felix spills himself inside of you, he pulls out and away. Without so much as another word, but a look that very much promised more of what had just happened, he leaves you in the little corner of the hallway.

However, you don't come back to yourself yet. Taking care in mechanical motions to fix up your clothes and get to a bathroom to clean up and possibly empty your stomach's contents until you felt any better about yourself and the prospect of having to spend the rest of summer in these halls. Any better, no matter how little it would be at all. One thing you were sure of in your dissociated state. There was no escaping Felix Catton.

[actiniumwrites]

WORLDS APART

synopsis: the leaves kazuha once scattered at sea after fleeing Inazuma somehow ended up in your hands — the hands of his lover.

based on one of his teapot lines: “In the past, I collected maple leaves upon the autumnal winds and carried them on my person. When I was on the boat, I scattered them across the surface of the ocean and watched them float to distant shores. Perhaps another homesick soul will have picked up one of those leaves...”

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

wc: 587

warnings: none

notes: i came up with this idea back in september and completely forgot about it until i found it in my notes recently. i think i originally wanted it to be a full fic but i honestly think a drabble format fits better. enjoy :)

“This one is a picture of my parents,” you spoke softly. Kazuha leaned closer to you to get a better look. His shoulders were against yours and his head that was once leaned sideways on your shoulder was now propped upright.

“They look so in love,” he commented in a whisper. The fondness in his voice was not amiss to you. Something about the way he seemed so intrigued in your little scrapbook made way for a smile to pull at the side of your lips.

For hours, the two of you had been talking about anything and everything on the little couch in your house, cuddled up next to each other. There had been a storm over Liyue and it hadn’t appeared to be stopping anytime soon, and thus, the two of you settled down and began talking. Not that you minded, you actually loved moments like these with him.

The conversation got deep pretty quickly. Sometimes topics you had long forgotten about had come up. Others — those in which you cherished — seemed to bring laughter and make the storm seem a little less gloomy. And memories of Kazuha’s never seemed to fail at making you smile. Sad or not, he always had a beautiful way of speaking about them.

Soon enough, you had remembered your little scrapbook — one that held years of memories in photos, trinkets, and things you’ve collected over your lifetime. Some of them were stupid and funny, others seemed to be like ancient artifacts that were fragile enough to be broken and lost to time forever. You loved each and every one of them all the same.

Admittedly, you were unsure how it slipped your mind to show Kazuha it before. The two of you had been dating for almost a year and a half now and it was something you were certain he would love to look at.

Flipping the page, Kazuha’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of a beautiful red maple leaf. It was neatly placed on the paper and sealed so it wouldn’t come up. Lustrous gold flakes seemed to adorn the space around it, complimenting it perfectly. In the bottom corner, a little date was etched into the paper — one that wrote nearly two years ago.

Kazuha hummed as his hand moved to gently angle the page toward him, “What’s this one from?”

“It’s a leaf I found at the docks one day. Not too sure how it got all the way to Liyue, but it meant a lot to me when I found it.”

“How so?”

You paused before answering, “I don’t really know? I guess I was just feeling a bit homesick with my parents being gone and all. I had been sitting down at the docks when I found a few of these, but I had only taken this one. It was strangely comforting, so, I kept it.”

Could it be?

“You know, when I was about to flee Inazuma, I remember bringing some of these leaves with me from Ritou. At some point on my journey, I had taken the leaves and scattered them off the boat while thinking of my own homesickness. Perhaps…this is one of them?,” Kazuha wondered aloud.

It was strangely coincidental or, perhaps, it wasn’t coincidence at all. Perhaps, it was that of fate’s dealing. Either way, the idea brought a fond smile to your face. To think the two of you may have been connected long before even meeting one another.

“Maybe.”

[primofate]

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. “No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

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[tteokdoroki]

all the love in the world | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.1K

⇝ rating: 18+, mature.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, engaged!au, fluff and smut.

⇝ summary: as hard to believe as it may seem, bakugou lives for time off, where the days begin with him waking up by your side and  end with him falling asleep right next to you, while he thinks of all the ways he can love you during the hours in between.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! fluffy domestic bakugou ( i think this needed a warning okay? ), smut ( characters aged up to 20s ), soft morning sex, fingering ( female recieving ), dry humping, light!praise, heavy!breeding kink, switch!reader, dom!bakugou.

⇝ author’s note(s): hellooo my loves ! as a celebration of me reaching 100+ followers, i bring you my very first written imagine !! i love the idea of domestic baku so i hope you enoy reading as i did writing !! special thanks to @ozzy-bozzy​ for the teddy bear bracelets idea hehe

⇝ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou considered himself to be a very lucky person.

when he was younger he’d been blessed by a powerful quirk which only lead him to exceed his classmates back in U.A. he’d graduated said school’s hero course top of his class, even if he’d failed his provisionals the first time round— nothing could stop him from becoming the best.

so when the hot headed blonde bagged the role of side kick at a top hero agency and then launched himself to the highest points in the hero charts as a pro later on, katsuki felt like all of his dreams had come true.

that was until, he’d proposed to you.

you were katsuki’s final dream, for him to wait for you at the end of the aisle— your watery smile just for him. 

that’s the vision he saw in his sleep. when you had said yes to him, the night you got engaged under the stars and amongst the roses, it was then that the explosive hero had realised how lucky he truly was.

he had loved you for a long time, katsuki had— he almost couldn’t remember the time when he hadn’t. in the time that you’d spent together; soft gazes and lingering touches, you’d taught him a lot and he’d learned through your tolerance and generosity, something that had rubbed off on him, something he’d so desperately needed to cool down his hot demeanour.

he was grateful for a lot of things, all of the things you’d taught him— but mostly the entirety of you. while you’d always said that neither of you completed each other and only made one another better, bakugou knew that his life would be complete with you in it forever.

 he knew  from the moment you’d pinned him down underneath you during training back in high school— that he was going to make you his wife someday.

“jesus katsu, why’re you up s’early? it’s supposed to be our day off,” you mumble into your silk sheets; his scent sewn into your pillows. katsuki likes the orange silk that lines your bed; mostly because of the colour and partly because other fabrics irritate his skin. with sleepy eyes, you blink up at the blonde and catch him staring mid act. like always, bakugou looks away with a heated blush and paws it away from his cheeks. “whatcha lookin’ at dummy?”

one of kastuki’s favourite things is the way you look when you first wake up, groggily rubbing the sleep away from your eyes with a pout on your lips as the sun hits your face just right— creating a halo effect around you, like you’re his guardian angel…but he wouldn’t ever admit that to you, at least not until his wedding vows. “it’s the only time i get to look at you without hearin’ the dumb shit that comes out your mouth, woman.” katsuki grumbles back, finally meeting your eyes again.  

he can clearly see the love glittering your irises and the faint smile that plays teasingly on your lips as if you know that he’s joking. unwillingly; bakugou feels himself mirror the grin that you bare and a happy warmth then spreads across his chest.

“we still have the whole day ahead for you to ogle me like that katsuki bakugou,” you hum sweetly, the tail end of your words falling into a light giggle. the ash blonde feels his heart flutter just from the sound; a candied melody to his ears that he could never get tired of hearing. 

reaching over your shoulder, katsuki uses his warm hands to roll you over onto his awaiting lap. 

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as the sheets fall from your body to reveal yourself in one of his shirts with an old merch design and your fingers weave their way into his pretty blonde hair. 

now that you’re in his lap; the pro hero can see the smirk making its way into your face as you look down at him lovingly. “seems like you were doing more than just looking baby…”

your hips grind down against your lover’s now prominent erection that sits hidden in his dark sweats— earning a slight gasp from the man himself. “s-shut up, dumbass…” bakugou growls through gritted teeth while you move above him. 

his words stay lodged in his throat, he wants to tell you that you’re always on his mind no matter what he’s doing or looking at but instead they die down as he drops his head to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along the column of it.

early morning love making with you was what katsuki bakugou considered one of his many blessings. he loves being this close to you— feeling every dip in your skin and kissing every mark on your body, his lips work their way up from your jawline to your chin and finally attempting to land a solid kiss to your own lips.

“nuh, katsu—“ your breathless whine fills the air, sending shivers down the spine of the man below you. he moves up to kiss you again, gripping your hips tightly while your movements begin to sync. “no, morning…morning breath…”

bakugou huffs, hand finding the back of your head to tilt it down into a soft liplock— contrasting with the harshness of his earlier movements. “fuck morning breath, i haven’t made love to you properly in a fucking week so let me kiss you. fuck.” usually, katsuki would have added his salty pet name of ‘shitty woman’ to the tail end of his phrases but he bites his tongue, saving it for later.

you give into your fiancé then, falling in love with the way his lips meld against yours so passionately all over again. fingers that belong to bakugou dance underneath your shirt, finding you bare within the fabric. one hand slips between your plush thighs, smoothly rubbing circles into your swelling clit ever so gently.

your breath hitches as katsuki traps you under his touch, playing with your folds as they begin to grow slick and form a wet patch on his deep grey sweats, making him groan. 

the explosive pro pushes two of his digits past your entrance, curling them and watching with sparkling scarlet eyes as your mouth hangs open in of the prettiest moans katsuki’s ever heard— his mouth falls open with you while your head tilts back, exposing your sweat glimmering skin to the sun’s rays. “feel good baby? yeah, you like that?” he mumbles condescendingly, slowly pumping them inside of you. “yeah you do,  yeah you fuckin’ do.”

“yeah, katsu...more…” a  breathless moan escapes you with every thrust of bakugou’s hot fingers, the cheeky bastard setting off small scale explosions to stimulate you from within. he’s hot, the heat from his body filling the space between you and spreading right down to your glistening mound— causing slick to gush from your tiny abused hole. 

you can feel his cock pulse beneath you with every twist of his fingers to reach that spongy pleasure spot deep within your leaking hot walls.

katsuki’s thick fingers stretch open your tiny hole, making your mouth water at the thought of his weighty cock being the next thing press into you but your raging thoughts are swiftly interrupted by your fiancé— who pulls from you completely and sucks the two fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of your sweet nectar.

katsuki keeps his vermillion eyes locked on you, the lewd action making saliva pool on your tongue. his own pink muscle darts out to wet his lips, no doubt spreading the taste of you across them before making a move to kiss you. 

the pro is quickly stopped, your hands that once roamed his bare back and messed hair, now pinning his own above his head.

bakugou is a strong man, he wouldn’t have been a top hero if he wasn’t— he trained constantly and sparred often with his fellow heroes but he doesn’t resist when you grip his wrists in your free hand, releasing his hard cock from it’s restraints before it slaps against his well toned stomach.

milky precum leaks against his warm skin, while you prepare yourself to mount him. the pair of you let out a groan in unison as you sink down on the hero’s thick length— as if the tensions and stresses of the week have melted away just him being sheathed inside of you.

“mnnn, so fuckin’ tight baby, gonna need to fuck you open again…”

bakugou’s voice is low and gravelly from the early morning, just how you like as his hips roll up into yours— further pushing his fat cock into you. his tip barely grazes your cervix  as you set the pace, lifting yourself up and down to bounce on your lover’s length. 

the way you feel inside, your soft velvety walls and gushing pussy make him buck up into you with more fever, as his own symphony of moans and weightless gasps dance through your ears. “yeah? take this pussy katsuki…m-make it yours,” you sigh, grip on his wrists loosening to the point where you set him free.  the blonde’s hands immediately move to grip your ass tightly— smirking at you lazily while the pads of his fingers sink into your flesh.

you look beautiful to him, bouncing on his cock and dripping all over his pelvis under the early morning sun, the way the gold lights up your hazy lust filled eyes.  

the fire of desire burns brightly in the depths of katsuki’s stomach, love finds its way into each of his thrusts from then on— mind clouding with the desire to fill you up so good with his love as the leaking  head of his thick girth drags against your walls, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. “that’s right yn baby…fuck that cock, fuck yeah baby,” he whispers brokenly to you, chest rising and falling desperately while sweat beads on his hairline. “love you, love you s’much...”

bakugou watches your gaze on him soften at his confession, the words he doesn’t say often but shows you everyday still hanging in the thick, warm air.  “i love you katsu, p-please,” your erratic thrusts slow to somewhat of a passionate grind, two lovers pressed hotly against one another as the sounds of your moans twist with that of skin on skin.

knot in your stomach tightening, katsuki can feel your release creeping on you from the way you clench around him at every plunge deep inside your sweet hole. strong arms wrap around you, katsuki noticing how you shake from pleasure above him while he brings you down onto loving thrusts as if to draw you closer. 

“gonna cum!”

your fiancé nods into your neck, rubbing smooth circles over your back as he pulls out of your heat completely and earns a needy whine from you. your hole spasms around nothing, right on the edge of release before bakugou forces his girth back into your accepting pushing. “cum for me angel, right on this cock,” he pants, holding you close while he rocks into you. “i've got you baby, let it all out…”

“mph, baku-! oh !”

hips stilling above his, you scratch and claw at any part of bakugou’s skin that you can— shaking as your release splashes against him, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head and white spots dancing across your vision. the tightness of your heat drives the pro right over the edge, hot ropes of thick cum painting your insides white as his release reaches your womb.

the pair of you lay still, catching your breath as you collapse forward on your lover’s chest. while your breathing slows, katsuki rubs warming circles into your back to help calm you down— only smiling softly when you look up at him with clear, affectionate eyes. “did so good for me yn, fuckin’ love it when you take my cock like that first thing in the morning,” his words are soft on his usually sharp tongue, bakugou smoothing a thumb over your cheek while using a forefinger to tilt your head up into a sweet kiss

“always and only for you, my love,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut at the simple gesture even after you pull away. “and if you keep cummin’ in me like that katsuki ‘m gonna end up pregnant one of these days…”

bakugou smirks, pressing smaller kisses all over your face to make you giggle. you smile and greedily accept each one, loving the these tender moments between yourself and your fiancé.  “maybe that’s the fucking point, dumbass,”  he quips, biting on your cheek after landing a kiss there. “trying to put a shitty little brat in you.”

despite the small bite to his words, a blush still manages to creep its way onto katsuki’s face as you lay your head down on his chest with a smack to his waist. the ash blonde means every word and you know it too, he can tell by the knowing smile and slight gleam in your eye.

you fall back asleep not long after bakugou cleans you up.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy counting every mark and bite he’d left on you as he tenderly wiped between your thighs and massaged over your skin. 

but he loved how cute you looked when curled up on his chest more, your hand clings to bakugou’s shoulder as if to check he’s still there even in your sleep— giving the hero ample opportunity to play with the ‘teddy bear’ bracelet thats cuffed to your wrist. you’d made it for one of your anniversaries; matching the ‘grizzly bear’ one on his own.

prying himself from your arms is no easy task for katsuki, your grip on him like an adorable iron vice or a child with a teddy bear. after setting himself free, the ash blonde with the crimson eyes heads down to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you— it was some what of a routine on your days off together, you always got the munchies after sex and bakugou knew just how to soothe your roaring appetite.

as he worked with the eggs and other breakfast ingredients, katsuki thought back to how much you praised him for his skills in the kitchen— he knew how much you loved his cooking and he would do anything to see you smile.

“god katsuki, i might have to start taking more days off it means i get to see my grizzly bear in the kitchen like this,” you hum from place leaning against the door frame. 

your fiancé turns round to face you with a light smirk, glimmering eyes inviting you further into the room. the explosive pro holds the sizzling pan he’d taken off the stove high above your head as you cuddle into his side, breathing in his warm caramel scent.

katsuki clicks his tongue, staring down at you fondly. “tell that to the fucking villains who fuck up the city every other day, maybe then we’d have more time to relax.” he counters, pulling a sweet chuckle from your sweet lips.

“if we start handing out your cooking, they’ll probably start turning themselves in!” you tease your lover back, swiping a bit of the pancakes from the pan above your head. katsuki grumbles and pats your ass indulgently— the supple skin peaking out from under the shirt that’s found it’s way back over your form. it’s a silent scold for eating before he’s fixed you a plate of all your favourites.

as usual bakugou pulls out your chair at the table, pressing his lips to your hairline before putting your steaming plate in front of you. your mouth waters while katsuki takes his seat opposite you with rolling eyes as he watches you tuck in to your breakfast. 

the entirety of your meal is filled with lingering gazes and hums of delight while you eat, almost as if you’re back on your first date ( bakugou spent half of the time watching you eat rather than doing so himself, but he just wanted to see if you liked the place ). 

leaning over the table to wipe syrup from your chin, the blonde smirks— quiet words falling calmly from his lips. “what do you want to do today, sweetheart?”

the birds chirps lovingly outside of your window, dancing under the sunshine— they remind you of your early mentor and often patrol partner hawks, who you needed to remember to invite to dinner soon. 

the weather is nice today and that gives you an idea. “let’s go out,” your eyes sparkle with a million dreams, each one bakugou wants to live out with you. “to the park with the roses, the pink ones where you—“

“where i proposed, got it,” katsuki smiles, the fond memory catching the tail end of his words. “i hear they introduced some new blooms too.”

you mirror his expression; stabbing your fork through a strawberry in the bowl of fresh fruit your lover had prepared for you. you hold the fork out to his lips and watch amusedly as he chomps the fruit from its place. “care to escort me, lover bear?”

“who else is going to? dumbass.”

“miss nightsky ! will ya sign my bag!”

“that’s a nice bag sweet one, you sure i can sign it?”

katsuki loves the way you are with kids, even though you’re a massive child yourself.

the pair of you decided to walk to the park; since the nice weather held up and it wasn’t too far from your private neighbourhood— even though it took a little longer to get there than expected. 

not that either of you minded, but many curious fans stopped to talk and ask for pictures; some even asked for autographs which you happily gave them. while the mighty ground zero was slightly grumbly about it, he adored how kind and patient you were with everyone you met no matter how old they were.

his vermillion eyes, though brownish looking under golden light, sparkle as you ruffle the little kid’s hair and wave politely to their awaiting parents. bakugou wants to have kids with you one day. 

it was something he hadn’t really thought about until recently, he knew it would be difficult, with both of you reaching the heights of your careers and the pair of you were still very private about your relationship as well, with word of your recent engagement already slipping into the tabloids.

there was no doubt that they’d speculate about your marriage too, no matter how private you kept it. keeping a child secret would be even harder. 

and yet; the thought of you holding a baby…his baby would, on some nights lull him to sleep.

you squeal like a little girl when the ash blonde stops to buy you an ice cream from a van by the entrance of the park; he can’t stand how much you love mint chocolate chip but buys you a towering double scoop anyways.  “how do you even eat that toothpastey shit?” bakugou grumbles, finishing off his orange popsicle as you walk into the flower garden.

“says the one who likes orange, you have no taste katsuki bakugou.” you chide but take his freehand nonetheless. the explosive pro’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand while you make your way through and he can’t help but pluck one of the pretty blooms from the bushes to tuck behind your ear.

you scold him for taking the flowers but your smile betrays you as katsuki dips you for a honeyed kiss on the lips. 

he’s never one for PDA but this was your spot, here just last year bakugou had sunk to his knees in front of you with an expensive diamond ring you were eyeing months before ( you would never say anything but katsuki always picked up on these things ). 

he would also never admit it, but his hand shook with every word that passed his lips and you were sure he had been crying harder than you were while he slipped a ring on your finger.

your secret kisses and tangled limbs hiding deep in the rose bushes are soon completely soaked by an onslaught of unexpected rain.

you shriek at the rain while katsuki grabs your hand, free arms thrown over your heads as you make a dash from the flower garden and head for the main streets in order to catch a bus.

the pair of you giggle as you stumble onto the vehicle, ringing out your drenched clothes and wiping at your wet faces as it heads home. bakugou pulls you into his arms, head resting atop yours to draw you closer— the heat from his quirk allows him to keep you warm and you get a load full of his sugary scent as well ( not that you mind ).

you stay like that on through the rustling traffic, cuddling like a cat to your heated fiancé but a tug on the bottom of bakugou’s wet shirt captures your attention. the pair of you look down to catch the innocent eyes belonging to a darling little girl. “u-uh h-hi mister gwound zewo!” the little one stumbles through her words and in the corner of your eyes you can spot the girl’s mother and give her a reassuring grin.

bakugou’s gaze softens at the curly haired girl and releases you to crouch down to her level despite the shaking bus.  his hand still holds onto yours though. 

he ruffles her hair with his free hand, making your heart warm— there was a side of katsuki the public never really got to see, where the hotheaded pro could be tender and quiet and often quite reserved. 

the media got a kick out of playing on the ash blonde’s explosive nature but moments like this let the real bakugou shine through.

“hey there kiddo, whatcha’ got there?” katsuki mumbles delicatley, noticing the girl hiding something behind her back.

“tisswue! for my favouwite hewo!” the little one says, gingerly holding it out to the blonde’s wet face for him to use. bakugou taps his cheek and cleans closer to let the little girl wipe his face with a tiny chubby hand. they chatter for the rest of the ride home— the girl bashfully twirling her hair around her fingers as katsuki compliments her quirk.

leaning your head on katsuki’s soused shoulder while you walk home, you look up at him with an adoring expression, wondering what he’d be like with a little girl of your own. “that was quiet adorable mister ground zero, you stole my hear away!” you tease, kissing your linked hands.

“yeah? well don’t get used to it shitty woman.” he says through gritted teeth and marches you both through the rain to get you home but the blush on his face tells you otherwise. if you ever had a daughter, you could only imagine what he’d be like with her.

katsuki heads straight for the shower when you get in, leaving you to pick a movie and order takeout as you’d discussed on the way home.

it was a regular routine for you both on nights off; you always picked the movie because if you left it up to your fiancé you’d end up watching some boring documentary on all might or cooking ( he was a closeted nerd at heart ). 

you settle on a cheesy romcom that you’ve seen about a hundred times because for one;  it’s your favourite and two, you’ll never get tired of seeing bakugou cry towards the end of the movie.

“take out should be here in twenty!” you call to your lover, when he passes by you to enter your living room.

“got it, now go wash up before you catch a cold, stupid—“ the ends of katsuki’s words are cut off by your stream of giggles, bouncing off your cream coloured walls. your ash blonde fiancé has half a mind to curse you out for slapping his ass through his fresh set of sweat pants but rolls his eyes nonetheless. 

he finishes pulling his tank top over his head while heading deeper into the room, not wanting to answer the door without one ( as much as your regular delivery driver would like that ).

while in the shower, you manage to scrub away stains of the rain and soreness from the day— washing over sweet love marks from katsuki with pride. a temporary reminder of his eternal love for you and you only. 

there’s already a change of clothes waiting for you when you step out of the shower; one of his old shirts and a set of boxers that you slip into comfortably. your nostrils are filled with nothing but the alluring scent of burning sugar, the traces left by bakugou himself.

he’s already munching on a box of tempura by the time you’ve headed back downstairs, crimson eyes light up when they land on you and you make a dive for the couch— rolling into katsuki’s side. “did you tip the delivery driver?” you ask, watching as your fiancé dips a piece of the food into some sauce before he holds it up to your lips.

“damn right i did, i didn’t wanna though…they kept staring at my arms,” bakugou revels in the way you laugh around the piece of food he pushes into your mouth. you chew with a grateful smile, the look of amusement never leaving your pretty face. “whatcha laughin’ at dumbass?”

“i think you forget how much the public loves your arms, ground zero.”

as soon as you press play on the movie, time seems to fly away from you both— the air is filled with streams of laughter and moments where you swipe from one another’s plates, picking on one another fondly. somehow by the time the film reaches it’s climax the food has been devoured and you’ve ended up huddling into bakugou’s chest. 

fingers laced with yours, bakugou twirls the diamond engagement ring you have on, around your finger, smiling at the precious reminder that you’re to be his forever and always.  “where do you think we’ll be in the future?” you question quietly, nuzzling into your fiancé’s side.

“married, of course.” crimson eyes find yours in the dimly lit room, almost rolling annoyance as if your question is the dumbest thing in the world. in response, you lean up and squish the explosive pro’s cheeks together and beam up at him while he scowls at you.

“stupid, you know that’s not what i meant,” the words despite harsh, leave your lips dreamily and a contented expression crosses your face. “i see us with kids, in a house much bigger than this one and a backyard that stretches for miles and miles—“ your words die warmly in your throat, figuring that you’ve gotten slightly carried away with the fanticies you’ve made for yourself and katsuki. 

in your mind, you can’t help but conjour up a litter of tiny bakugou’s running around a plush green garden— maybe a little dog too and your heart swells in your chest at the idea.

the hot head squeezes your hand, resurfacing you from your sea of thoughts. “you want kids? with me?” his voice is barely above a whisper, all of his vulnerabilities splayed out in the tone as he looks at you warmly.

“a whole family with you, as many as you want.”

suddenly, bakugou has you flipped onto your back and pinned underneath his muscular frame. 

his warm breath fans across your face making your eyes fall heavy with adoration. “four.” the blonde grunts, swooping down to brush his lips gently across yours, not quite kissing you much to your dismay. “i want four of those snotty little gremlins with you, maybe have the fifth by accident and then we’ll get a big fucking house for them to destroy—“

“f-five kids katsu?” you gasp out your words at katsuki starts to press increasingly harsh kisses to your jawline, settling on your neck while he licks over bites he’d left earlier today. 

bakugou murmurs something about ‘you said as many as i want’ before he’s growling at your hands that find their way into his blonde locks, tugging on them tightly as pleasure overwhelms your senses. 

he hums against your sweet skin, finding his place between your legs at the same time as his thoughts take him away from you. he’d love to see you pregnant, so full of his love and his children.

the movie is long forgotten by now as lust settles in every corner of the room. hands push beneath your shirt, groping and massaging your breasts to pull all sorts of sounds from you. 

bakugou forces a knee between your thighs, finally capturing your lips in a hungry and heated kiss— his tongue slips in your mouth after he pinches your thigh, fighting yours in a passionate dance for dominance. “gonna fuck a shitty little brat into you, yn,” katsuki almost whines as he pulls away from your inviting lips to press your foreheads together. you look gorgeous beneath him, flustered with swollen lips from each of your rough kisses and there’s no doubt in his mind you’re thinking the same about him. “gonna fill you up so good, gonna make pretty babies with you, hah?”

“ka-katsuki!” you can’t help but mewl at his breathless sinful words while you fist at his tank top. everything is hot, burning hot and you grind up into him with a newfound desperation, the friction against his hardening length sending your eyes rolling with ecstasy.. “we’re not even— mmm god, right there— we’re not even married yet!”

“gonna be at some point, why waste time fucking trying? not when i can cum in you and give you one right fucking now—“  bakugou moans heavily into your ear, diving back into a sloppy kiss as he fumbles around with the string of his sweatpants. 

you’re whimpering out for him, pulling the blonde into a lustful trance while you make a move to kick off your underwear when the sound of shattering glass pierces through the bubble of horniness you’ve both created. “shit.”

you both freeze and your matching gazes drop to the floor; a rapidly growing stain of red wine spilling onto the carpet under the coffee table your take out was on. 

the fluffy white rug had been a housewarming gift that katsuki begrudgingly accepted from your old school friend and fellow pro, izuku midoriya— so the sight of the now ruined rug makes you both burst out into harmonious laughter. you’re sure the number one wouldn’t mind. it’d make a great wedding story too.

you focus your eyes back on katsuki, cupping his face as that same love filled smile from earlier returns to your face. ”let’s start trying tomorrow, then?”

“tomorrow it is.” bakugou grins back, dotting your hairline with sweet pecks before cuddling into you.

baby making can wait for now, he supposes, for with another day off— he has all the time and all the love in the world to give to you.

[midnightlover89]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Fred Weasley/Reader)

Word Count: 1.3K

Author’s Note: I'm about to break your heart, and I'm sorry. Reblogs are very much appreciated. Spotify Playlist (inspired the fic)

Warning(s): canonical character death (not graphic or anything, just ✨feelings✨)

Remember how we met? I had felt lightheaded ever since I boarded the train to the school because I knew no one there, not until I met you. You invited me to join you and your twin brother at the table when I was uncertain of where to sit. You not only made me feel welcomed but also not as terrified anymore.

I have always loved spending time with you. I thought you were thoughtful and humorous. You carried a mesmerizing charisma that dazzled everyone around you. I loved how your brown eyes radiate even in the dark and how the corner of your lips quirk up whenever you see me and curve into a wide grin. You ruffled your hair to make yourself look “charming,” but you never had to impress me because you had already won me over on the very first day.

You asked me to go on a trip to the village outside the school with you. Of course, I said yes. I have always admired your courage and determination to do whatever comes to mind. Just as we were about to leave the school, you slipped your hand through my fingers as if it were the most casual gesture in the world. My heart skipped a beat. I gave your hand a little squeeze before you winked at me.

Throughout the whole trip,  Our friends kept looking at us as if they found you holding a girl’s hand unbelievable, but you squeezed it tighter as if you would lose me to other guys if you accidentally let go. I found you staring at me, and I joked, “Am I not the luckiest person alive now?” I saw your gorgeous eyes filled with much sincerity, and you replied, “No, I am.”

The pouring rain did not stop our fun. We stepped out of the shop earlier than our friends did, and you pulled me onto the street to feel the freezing rain. “Stop it! We’re gonna get wet!” I chuckled. “Come on, live a little.” One of your eyebrows shot up like it was a challenge for me to stay in the rain. I rolled my eyes. Just then, I felt your tight embrace and your lips on mine. You kissed me long and hard and with the gentleness I always knew you had. We were completely soaked in the rain, but it did not drown out the warmth that I felt around you.

We fell in love that day in October, exactly two years after hearing your cheerful, energetic “Hey! Do you want to sit with us?” Deep in our minds, we both knew it was love at first sight. We had been in love ever since we laid our eyes on each other but had never realized the feeling until now.

You kept your promise to do something special on my birthday. I thought you had forgotten since you did not acknowledge it until late afternoon. You rushed past me to get to a class before you turned and shouted, “Meet me in the hallway at seven.”

You took me stargazing on the rooftop of the school. The warm breeze blowing on our faces seemed to bless our time together. The crickets chirped, and the owls hooted, creating our soundtrack for the night. I can feel your warm, gentle hand wrapping around my fingers, trying to protect me from all harm. Looking up at the sky, I was in awe of its magnificence and the endless mysteries it holds, “How much longer do you think the sky and the stars would stay in harmony like this? It’s breathtaking,” I murmured. “Forever and ever,” you kissed my hand softly and whispered in my ear, “You are a dream that I never want to wake up from.”

God knows how long we stayed there, but we definitely lingered past the curfew. Hand in hand, we ran as fast as we could to avoid getting caught by the teachers. Our suppressed giggles did not help, but we had the time of our lives, and that was enough.

You knew I was quiet and reserved, not at all like you, but you would wrap your arms around my waist whenever we were hanging out with friends, and you would say, “Tell them the jokes you told me yesterday.” You always laughed the hardest among the group, regardless of how dull the jokes actually were.

I loved cuddling by the fireplace, leaning my head on your shoulder. Despite being in the crowded common room, I could not hear any noise except your quiet voice. I loved doing homework by your side, even if you ended up distracting me and we never got anything done. I loved how often you would quote your favorite book, “If anything ever happened to me, just know that I will always love you.” You reserved your tenderness only for me, and it was nothing like the class clown that everyone else had known you for.

We were so deeply in love. Our friends would tease us, “I can’t wait to attend your wedding,” or “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding.” I had absolutely no doubt that we would get married after graduation. You promised to make sure that it would be the most unforgettable wedding ever; we would laugh and cry at the same time until we could not anymore. I could picture the celebration going on for days vividly. You, wearing a black suit and a burgundy tie that complement your brown eyes, and I, wearing a simple yet elegant white gown that I could only imagine in my wildest dreams.

But the wedding never happened.

You left the world forever, right before our fifth anniversary, right before our graduation. The future was right in front of us.

You rushed in front of me. Before the fatal wound hit, you had just enough time to turn back and say, “I will always love you.” You left the world to sacrifice yourself for me.

Your action shocked me. I could not believe how you just left like this.

I suppose I should be grateful, and I am. I truly am grateful for how you so selflessly protected me, so I could live fearlessly and unapologetically like I always said I wanted to.

I am grateful for all the memories we have made together. I know you wanted to make the time on the rooftop the most remarkable night ever, but you alone are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

On the other hand, looking back at our time together is so bittersweet. I am convinced that only love can hurt like this. Knowing that I will never hear your voice nor feel your embrace again, my heart is broken into two. One half is shattered into a million little pieces, and the other half will never heal to find its lost part again.

I thought we had a lifetime to make countless memories, but you will never get to grow older. Now I cannot sit by the fireplace without hearing your hearty laughter; I cannot walk the street where we had our first kiss without feeling your warm breath. I cannot stargaze without being reminded of that night on the rooftop and your promise. I could hear your whisper in my head, so soft as if it was a secret between us, “I love you.”

You will forever be a part of me. Maybe you are my soulmate who was not meant to be, and I could never replace you, but I will pass on our story. When I find a love that can hold my fragile heart and my memory of you, I will tell my children our story. It would be a real-life fairytale.

In another life, please do not fall in love with me because I could never lose you again. I will be madly in love with you, but I will never let you know. That way, maybe you would have a chance to grow older.

[the-scandalorian]

What about a mix of two prompts?

“i've never been kissed before so you volunteer but i decline, we're best friends and it would be weird, but a couple hours later i lay awake in my bed and i can't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you and suddenly i regret what i said”

and

“two characters look at each other. silence. then. BOOM BANG LIPS CRASHING CAN'T RESIST YOU ANYMORE BAM BOOM THERE'S A WALL LET'S PIN YOU AGAINST IT”

of Din Drjarin/f!reader?

Thank you so much for the prompt!! I love this combination so much! Hope you enjoy this 💖 And for the others who made requests, they're in the works!

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: alcohol consumption, spice

You and Mando were sitting in your usual evening position—back-to-back in the middle of the hull—so he could lift his helmet just enough to eat. You’d finished dinner a while ago, and now you were passing a flask of whiskey back and forth over your shoulders. The last few hunts had been long and hard, but the carbonite chamber was now at capacity, so you were taking a night off before returning to Nevarro.

As the flask got lighter and the sky visible through the open ramp faded from a dusky twilight to a velvety black, you inched closer together until you were fully leaned against one another. He was fairly comfortable as a backrest considering the amount of metal and weaponry strapped to his body.

Your conversation had been skirting dangerous territory for a while now—a place you’d been working towards for months if you were being honest. You weren’t supposed to be doing this though: the easy friendship, the light teasing, and the casual intimacy of spending weeks together in a confined space were supposed to stop there... not progress into anything more. You were hunting partners—that was it.

Yet, here you were telling him about your first kiss.

“What about you, Mando? I mean... is kissing even allowed for Mandalorians?”

You reached back to pass him the flask. He took a pull and then—in his unmodulated voice, which was always slightly distracting—said, "Mandalorians touch the foreheads of their helmets together... it's called a Keldabe kiss.”

“That’s very sweet and all, but what about actual kissing? Is that allowed? Or are you only allowed to bonk your metal heads together?”

He scoffed and tilted his helmet back to lightly knock against the back of your head. You laughed and knocked him back.

(That only counts as a Mandalorian kiss if you’re facing each other... right?)

“So?”

“Yes, it’s allowed. If you find someone you trust, there are options... blindfolds, dark rooms... eventually, marriage.”

You ignored the way your heart dropped a little more at each of those options. Instead, you pressed him again: “Okay, so... what was your first kiss like?”

“I don’t have a good story like you do.”

You nudged his side with your elbow. “Oh come on, just tell me! I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours. That’s how the game works.”

You heard him exhale and take another long pull from the flask. He passed it back to you over his shoulder. “Isn’t it my turn to ask a question though?”

You scrunched your eyebrows together. Honestly, you’d lost track of whose turn it was at this point, but he’d answered every other random question you’d thrown at him, even the intrusive one about the craziest places he’d had sex. He’d even thrown you some bold curveballs. But he didn’t want to tell you about his first kiss?

It hit you all at once.

“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You blurted the thought before remembering to pass it through your usual verbal filter.

“No, I haven’t,” he confirmed.

“Oh,” was all you can think to say. You took a sip, and the whiskey burned slightly as it went down your throat. You reached back to hand it over again.

His gloved fingers brushed yours when he took it from you. “I never trusted anyone enough in the past.”

In the past.

Your thoughts raced as you tried to decide if that wording was intentional.

...he was sitting here, leaned against you, lifting his helmet in your presence, in the present…

That had to mean something.

You couldn’t help but ask the question that seared through your mind, “Do you trust me?”

He let a pause stretch out between you, laden with the implication of your question, and shifted slightly against your back. “Yes.”

Your heart rate kicked up. There was so much potential in that yes that you couldn’t help but push forward.

“I would kiss you.”

It came out sounding like an offer, but you really meant it as a want. You wanted to kiss him. You’d held that truth for a while now—months probably—keeping it close to your chest, knowing that it would likely live there forever. There was no room for attachment in your utilitarian partnership, or in his strict Creed and your nomadic existence. Kissing him was an unrealistic daydream, a passing thought you regularly ignored.

Though... it was harder to ignore when he let his gloved hand linger on your waist, or threw himself into the line of fire to protect you, or wordlessly accepted joint commissions from Karga as if your partnership was implicit. He’d been doing all those things more and more often.

And now, your carefully guarded truth was lingering out there, floating freely between you. You started to panic as the silence stretched on and scrambled to snatch it back: “I mean... if you want to know what it’s like.”

You immediately regretted adding that qualification. That wasn’t why you said it.

Another strained moment of silence passed.

“It wouldn’t make for a very good story,” he finally replied. He was trying to make light of the weird situation, but it came out flat in his modulated voice. He was obviously uncomfortable... and uninterested.

You were so incredibly grateful that he couldn’t see your face at that moment. You forced out an unconvincing laugh and said: “Right.”

The chirping of the crickets outside suddenly seemed deafening in the fraught silence that settled between you. You felt him adjust against your back once more. The flask appeared in your periphery, and you grabbed it quickly, taking a long pull.

Fuck.

You could tell that you had just taken the quiet, tenuous potential of your friendship and obliterated it with one awkward sentence.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” he said, pushing himself to his feet behind you.

You nodded vaguely and stayed where you were, staring out into the starry night, until you heard the mechanical click of his bunk closing behind him.

It was never going to happen—you’d always known that. It had never been a real possibility. And yet, in some shadowy corner of your traitorous heart, the tiniest bit of hope had taken root, cultivated by months of lingering touches and endless time spent together in hyperspace. And it hurt to have that fledgling hope completely crushed.

Eventually, you closed the ramp and plopped down on the spare cot against the wall. You tossed and turned for a long time, wondering if Mando would even want to partner with you for jobs any more. Probably not.

You froze when you heard his bunk slide open and the sound of his feet hitting the floor. You expected to hear him walk to the refresher, but when you didn’t hear his footsteps, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

He was facing you, backlit by the light of his open bunk. His silhouette was different than usual—with a jolt, you realized that he was completely unarmored aside from his helmet. The hands that were twitching and clenching by his sides were bare. You sat up and swung your legs over the side of the cot, waiting for him to do something... anything. The silence between you wasn’t strained now; it was charged, electric, expectant.

He reached back and pressed a button on the wall behind him and his bunk slid shut, bathing the space in complete darkness. You heard him take two steps toward you, then stop. He was waiting for you in the middle of the hull, wordlessly asking you to meet him halfway.

So you did.

You weren’t sure what to do once you were standing a foot in front of his dark outline. You waited for a moment, then you both stepped towards each other at the same time, his hands—you faintly registered that you were feeling his skin on yours for the first time—finding your arms in the darkness. You pressed one palm to the soft fabric covering his chest, tilted your face up... and waited.

He needed to be the one who took that final step.

After he released a shaky exhale through the modulator, his right hand left your bicep to reach up and grip the lip of his helmet. Your stomach swooped in anticipation when you heard the pneumatic release, and you watched the dark shape being lifted from his head.

You could feel the beating of his heart under your fingertips as he lowered his hand to his side, helmet grasped in his fingers. He leaned down, and you couldn’t help but lean up to meet him. Your lips connected sloppily in the dark, off-center and a little harder than you meant, but you corrected yourselves quickly. You thought about how soft his lips were as you moved yours against his; you smiled against his mouth when you noted the tickle of his mustache, and he exhaled against you when you reached up to map out the rest of his face with your hands: scratchy stubble along his jawline, a sharp nose, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, soft hair feathered across his forehead.

He let out a satisfied moan and gripped you a little tighter when you parted your lips to run your tongue experimentally along his pouting bottom lip. He responded in kind, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, his tongue tentatively working its way into your mouth. A muffled moan slipped from your own lips, and you slid one hand under the hem of his shirt, dragging your palm up the rippling muscles of his back.

Mando seemed to be emboldened by your exploration; his helmet clanged against the floor when he let it fall, and both his hands were suddenly roaming over your body, large palms cupping your breasts through your shirt. In an instant, a kiss that had started out as uncertain and eager was suddenly hot and desperate. He backed you toward the ladder with decisive steps until you were pinned between it and his broad chest. His hands worked their way down your back, over the swell of your ass, until he was gripping the backs of your thighs. You linked your hands behind his neck, so he could hoist your legs up and around his middle.

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, and his lips found your skin. He trailed kisses up, until he paused with his mouth by your ear.

“It was worth the wait.”

***

everything taglist: @chattychell @fisforfulcrum @meanperegrine @over300books @rebelpitstop @spideysimpossiblegirl @tacticalsparkles @tobealostwanderer @trashbuns @tuskens-mando

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || my little flower

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her 

notes: historical!sukuna x reader, slightly sexual (no smexy time involved lol - maybe another day ;)), quite fluffy towards the end

also - I’ve been reading so many sukuna hcs and imagines of him when he’s in his prime or during the historical era - so like excuse me as I politely simp for the man that is ryomen sukuna >< thank you 

references: https://www.japanese-wiki-corpus.org/literature/Ryomen-sukuna.html 

Sukuna leans back into the futon with a tired sigh, two of his arms folded behind his head while the other two held you against him securely. His ruby red eyes glanced away from the ceiling to look down at the woman curled up in his embrace, sleeping peacefully against him whilst her own soft arms were wrapped around his muscular torso. He admired your peaceful features at first, but soon his eyes started to travel down your delicate neck and cleavage, your soft skin marked by dark splotches where he had marked you up for the world to see.

Just the sight of the hickeys and bite marks caused Sukuna to smirk once more, the feeling of pride traveling through him at the sight of the hickeys, both new and old, marring your skin. It was a sight he would never get bored of seeing, since it was a constant reminder to you that you were his and no one else’s. 

Many would question just how did this happen - how did a simple human manage to ‘tame’ the infamous Sukuna - the King of Curses, who spreads chaos and bloodshed in his wake? How did you, a mere human woman who looked far too kind hearted and warm, ended up with such a fearsome man? 

Well, how this came to be was actually a cute story.

You grew up in a small village in Hida province, where many cities treated Sukuna as their patron deity. He was what people would call quite a cold ruler - one who would not hesitate to bring terror and bloodshed down on a town that had angered him. But at the same time, he was quite the generous man as well. He protects the people of the Hida and Mino Provinces, and many towns had florish and grow under his careful guidance.

Your town was one of the may towns that worshipped the Cursed Spirit, preparing offerings on special celebrations and always paying your respects whenever you go up to the ichinomiya on the weekends with your parents. It was because of one of these special celebrations that drew Sukusa to you.

It was one of the many days where offerings were given to him by townspeople, in hopes that they will still continue to get some form of protection from the unknown. He was their patron deity, after all. Even though many times he does all the things he does for his own benefit, it was nice to know that there are some who are gullible enough to think he does it for them. But he it’s one to complain - many of the offerings are things he does not mind indulging in. The best crops from the harvest, women for his ever growing harem, beautifully crafted weapons and clothes are the few he can keep in mind

Many times, he does not care to go through the offerings himself - Uraume goes through all of them and then gives him a general overview of everything. However, as he was walking past one of the neat piles of offerings, a particular garment box caught his eye; causing him to pause before he unwraps it curiously. 

Sitting inside the carefully wrapped package was a beautiful dark blue kinomo made of the finest silk, the fabric so smooth that it almost felt like water slipping through his fingers. Packed along with the kinomo was a beautifully crafted haori, a simple yet beautiful crane woven into the haori in white, the details done so carefully that when worn, the crane moves with the shifting of the fabric. The packet also came with a matching hakama made from the luxurious fabric, and a beautiful kaku obi made from navy blue, white and silver carefully weaved together into in a beautiful talent.

It was because of the level of craftsman ship that had Sukuna curious - who was the mastermind of something so beautiful?

He had went to the town where the garment was from and after some digging about, discovered about you. A daughter to a family of tailors, you were quite well known for your talents in embroidery and your mastery of the loom. Having gotten such talents, you crafted many beautiful pieces, and one of them was gifted to Sukuna himself recently. 

When he first saw you, he was struck by your beauty; how you had such a warm smile no matter who you were referring to. How your movements were graceful yet swift, your needle and threat embroidering the most beautiful depections of animals and flowers without a single mistake. How your voice was so sweet and calming that he can physically feel the tension from his body starting to unwind ever so slightly. If he could, he’d love to listen to your voice forever - which was what he intended to do. 

The first time you two met was actually in the dead of the night; you had stayed up later then usual, carefully embroidering a water lily onto a long fabric for a personal tapestry you wanted to hang in your room. A candle was burning by your work table, casting the engawa of your home in a soft but comforting glow; enough for you to do your work without straining too much. You were so fucsed on your work that you didn’t notice how the flames of your candle started to flicker in the glass holder; even though there was the air was still. Your eyes didn’t trail up from your tapestry even as a large figure quietly entered the hallway you were in; only pausing when you felt a huge presence looming over you.

Your bright eyes flickered upwards and met with four pairs of ruby red ones staring right back at you; all four of them shining in amusement. “You are quite oblivious, little one.” Sukuna hummed out with a soft grin, to which you just gave him a confused look as you tilted your head ever so slightly. “How did you get into my house?” You asked quietly, not even acknowledging how the man before you looked very different from what you’re used to; from the four muscular arms sprouting out from underneath the dark blue haori, the very same one that you had made for him. to the extra pair of eyes he sported on his face. Or how the top of his head was clearly brushing against the simple weed roofing of your family home.

“Is that really the first thing you’re going to ask, little one?”

From that day onwards, things definitely went a lot smoother then Sukuna could have imagined. At first the lack of reaction from you confused him, but he found it quite amusing nonetheless. Even after finding out that he was the same deity that you had heard stories of since you were in diapers, you acted no differently around him. You still talked and laughed with him like he was any other human. which for some reason made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. It makes him want to gather you up in his arms, protecting you from the horrors of the world.

The two of you will continue to meet up in the night like secret lovers; many nights he’d just lean against one of the pillars of your family home, with you perched in his lap as you work on different projects every night; talking about things that happen that day, or the funny stories that the townsfolk would share with you whenever they drop by to mend and purchase clothes, or when they dropped off freshly dyed fabrics. During a few of these nights Sukuna had suggested if you can help him mend a few of his kimonos, which you agreed to without hesitation. Some days you’d ever create new kimonos for him as well, which he would wear quite proudly. 

Soon these innocent nights of talking and laughter, him watching you do your work under the moonlight, to having you gasping and crying out for him as he took you over and over again in his grand bedroom; watching quite gleefully as he corrupted your innocence, ruining you for any other man. Ever since the first night you two shared in his bed, he knew that there was no turning back - there was no one else for him but you. 

And there was no way he was going to let some puny human even try to get in between the both of you.

With that he whisked you away from the somewhat mundane and boring life in your town, making you his entire world. He showered you with the finest gifts and opened the more human side of him to you; one that he thought he had lost the moment he had decided to go down the path he did. But you pulled these emotions out from him with ease, making him realise that he can chase all the power he want till the end of time and that will never satisfy him completely. 

All he needed was you, and everything feels right in the world.

“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped towards the direction of your sleepy voice, watching how you gave him the most beautiful yet sleepy smile as you carefully shifted your body so it was pressed against his. He marveled how your naked bodies clicked together seamlessly, even with the clear size difference between the two of you. “You will always have my attention, flower.”

The sound of the simple nickname cause a small smile tug against the corner of your lips, remembering how that nickname came about. You have always love studying flowers, since you enjoyed embroidering different sorts of flora and fauna onto different tapestries that now adorned the walls of the home you two share. You had once told him about your love of flowers, and because of that, you had came home one day to the courtyard in your shared home turned into your private garden; with flowers from all across the country planted at every nook and cranny. 

When you had asked Sukuna about it, he just shrugs and gave you an indulge smile - as if asking were you really shocked by his gift to you. When he realised just how deep your love for nature was, he had started to call you ‘his flower’, and the name has stuck since then. “What a sweet talker.”

A chuckle rumbled deep within his chest as one of his hands found purchase along your back, starting to massage what he was sure were your sore muscles; watching in satisfaction as you melted more into his chest. “Only for you.” He admitted quietly, to which you just gave him a loving smile as you rest your cheek against his chest once more; a soft finger started to trace along the tattoos on his skin. This action caused him to relax further into the futon, sighing softly in content. “Sukuna? Can we take a bath?”

“I’m lazy.” Sukuna stated with a soft groan as he glanced down at you once more, only to be met by the soft pout that you just know gets him to give in. This caused him to scowl as he cupped your face in one of his hands, gently squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he pushes himself up into a seated position. “You little minx.” He growls playfully whilst you just gave him a teasing smile, straddling his lap with your legs on either side of his whilst one of your hands wrapped around his wrist; causing him to loosen his grip on you whilst letting out a loud sigh. “How annoying.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you before he got up from the comfort of the warm futon, causing you to giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s go, flower.” He sighs dramatically before he walked you both to the bathroom, causing you to perk up before you lean over to press a loving kiss against his cheek; ignoring his soft eyeroll at your act of affection. As if he didn’t enjoy it whenever you do so. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.” He teases before he started to walk you two towards the bathroom, one of his hands skimming down to the small of your pack where a beautiful black tattoo rested against your soft skin; a tattoo that looks similar to the black lines that adorned his own skin. “You’re mine, after all.” He stated simply, causing you to roll your eyes at him playfully as he carefully sat you down on the wooden steps leading to the opening of the ofuro; watching as Sukuna started to prepare the bath for the both of you. “Wouldn’t it kill for you to just be a little nicer to me?”

Your teasing tone clearly didn’t win any points with him, who narrowed his eyes at you and before you know it you were suddenly pinned down against the wooden steps. A soft giggle left your lips at the narrowed eyes that stared back at you, causing Sukuna to scowl softly at your reaction. “Now you’re just asking for it, flower.” He growled before diving down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss; not being able to mask his smile at the sound of your soft laughter just as you wrapped your arms around him once more.

"My little flower..”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[shotorozu]

relationship realizations

— ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦ 3k followers milestone

character(s) : multiple characters (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

note(s) : happy 3k ‼️ thank you all for all the love, and most especially those that continue to send love, and indulge in my works. further context, this is what the bnha boys/men learned by being with you :))

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

↮ that his opinion does matter. okay— it’s not like you handed his confidence to him, no that’s different. but, you are a main contributor to the sudden increase of confidence in himself. before, he was just so used to be brushed aside, other people being told to ignore him whenever he does this, and for his rambles to be ignored like white noise— but after you showed up and spent some time with him, he realizes that it’s not the end of the world if he does ramble, and it’s not the end of the world to not be confident about your opinions 100% of the time, but what does matter is that his opinion was heard. which ultimately lead to him being more confident in expressing his own opinions, not caring if it’s apart of the vase majority, or the minority. he’ll forever love you for this.

todoroki shouto

↮ that taking your time isn’t abnormal. shouto, being someone that had little to no set example of what romance is, and being exposed to romance comedies, and tv shows— made him realize something. that people were already kissing on the first date, and he felt well,, under developed because of it. he was never the biggest fan of physical touch, it’s not to say that he never wanted to kiss you, he always does want to, but— he won’t just kiss you just because it’s the first date, or because the movies said so, even as much as he wanted to, no. that’s not what he wanted. he felt worried that he was moving too slowly, compared to the examples he’s seen online but— you say things differently. you allowed him to take his time, showing him patience as you peck him on his temples, and he couldn’t be more grateful to love someone like you.

bakugou katsuki

↮ that being vunerable isn’t a bad idea. you’re even aware of the many few boundaries katsuki has set up for himself— like no pda. which, you’re perfectly fine with, but katsuki hated the idea of being vunerable because well,, people shoved him onto this pedestal at a very young age, he’s thee bakugou katsuki, there’s no room for vulnerability (or so he thinks) besides all might and deku, you’re really the only one that has seen the vulnerable bakugou katsuki, not the loud and explosive one everyone is used to. he was repulsed by the idea, but after the first time he allowed himself to cry on your lap, shedding tears as he trembles in your caring embrace— he realized that he has someone, and that someone wouldn’t care for the world if he wasn’t this big and strong person 24/7. he won’t say it out loud, but he’s incredibly thankful

kaminari denki

↮ that people do take him seriously. nearly everyone sees this man as this.. class clown, goof ball, and that he’s ‘stupid’ or he’s ‘lacking braincells’ most of the time, and that’s all they make him out to be. denki doesn’t like drowning in self pity, but he can’t help it, why doesn’t anyone take him seriously? but wait, that’s when you come along. it was heartbreaking to say the least when you saw how shocked he was when you wanted to hear his plans and ideas. to anyone else, it might appear to be the bare minimum, but it’s everything to denki. to be taken seriously when the time says so, to be treated like the next person with ambitions. sure, he loves being a jokester, he loves making people laugh, but he can’t bite back the smile, when he sees you worry about him after every short circuit, and kiss him on the cheek whenever he comes back to his senses.

shinsou hitoshi

↮ that not everyone’s opinion is valid. okay hear me out, that might be considered a bad thing, but it’s really not. in fact, it’s a good thing. hitoshi’s just used to hearing sugar coated and backhanded compliments being thrown his way, people saying that “you’d be a good villain, at least!” but, he doesn’t want to be a villain. sometimes they’re not even backhanded, and he’s just used to accepting it as it is. because, everyone has been thinking that way, since well— he first manifested his quirk. but that’s when you come along, and blow away his expectations. you weren’t afraid to tell him the truth, that he shouldn’t have allowed all of them to insult him like that, since he deserved all of the good that was in the world. that wasn’t the part that stuck out the most, but it was the part where you told him that it’s the intent that mattered, and who cares if his quirk seems villainous, as long as he meant well? for once in his life, he stopped paying attention to the senseless comments, and focused on what really mattered— you.

kirishima eijirou

↮ that you don’t need a flashy quirk to be honorable. his quirk, while it took some time for it to be in the state that it is today, it has always been an insecurity of his, not that he’d admit that. that he can’t create big explosions or large glaciers of ice like bakugou or todoroki, or he can’t create whatever he desired like yaoyorozu, he just felt,, plain sometimes. which was something he never voiced out in such a blunt manner before, since he always presented himself as this cheery dude that’s always ready for the occasion. it might be easy, he probably curses at himself for being under your spell a little bit too easily, but he feels great whenever you praise him for his hard work, and especially his quirk. even when the insecurity slips out by accident, and when you’re questioned if you really meant that, you stay true to your statement, and that was an eye opener.

amajiki tamaki

↮ that there are other ways of being strong. look, it’s not like tamaki’s quirk is weak— in fact, it’s the very opposite, but his self esteem, and the absence of a sociable personality does take a toll on him sometimes. he feels like he can’t do anything right, especially when he mutters, messes up on what he wants to say, more importantly when he has an idea on what to say. he feels helpless, compared to the other two strong personalities of UA’s big three. and that’s why, you’ve showed him that shyness is completely normal and fine, and it’s not just him that struggles with socializing— and besides, tamaki does have other strong points, like his ability to be considerate with his actions, and his carefully selected words of affirmation whenever he sits next to you on a date. tamaki might be socially uh.. weak sometimes, but he’s come to realize that it’s fine, since he has other strong parts!

monoma neito

↮ that he won’t be forgotten, and also— that being nice to class 1-A doesn’t sound that bad. come to think of it, neito DOES have a nice side in him, but it’s just not exposed to class 1-A for several different reasons (that are layered) when he was younger, he was told that his quirk wasn’t that spectacular, people have underestimated his quirk a lot. not because it’s ‘boring’ but because it just ‘copies other quirks,’ and has no individual attributes. thus, lead neito to act out as an attempt to stand out and not be ‘boring.’ in reality, neito doesn’t realize that he’s anything close to that, and that he can be remembered in the best ways. like, when you first saw his room, and it was covered in pastels, and whenever he sees you, the first thing he says is a compliment. who would’ve guessed it from him? and most importantly, when he is nice to class 1-A, he finds himself laughing at amusement— and he thinks ‘hey! this,, isn’t bad.’ it’s a slowburn for him to finally act like how he is with his class but hey, process!

dabi todoroki touya

↮ that he needs someone. how ironic, a villain— needing someone, and all for what? just to be abandoned for someone better? no thanks. you didn’t actually shove it in his face for him to realize it but, you did contribute to it. his staples were starting to falling off again after another gruesome mission, dabi didn’t feel like plucking them out himself, but he knows that he has to— he went to go pick them off, until, you come in. a stapler in your hand, as you practically make him sit tightly as you replaced the staples. it stings, not that he’ll ever admit that, he’ll just stick to making fun at you in such dabi fashion. but ugh, there’s that warmth again everytime he looks at you. it’s not the cruel burn, similar to his quirk— but it’s,, gentle. it makes him want to disembowel himself, but he doesn’t mind it when you touch the cool metal. just,, get out of his face before he decides to flame you, all just because he learned that he needs someone (he won’t actually flame you but ugh, he’s still dealing with that kind of warmth you’re making him feel)

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[pingutats]

i just had such a good request for a fic. dom/sub dynamic with dom!harry where y/n is being spanked for misbehavior and she ends up crying during it because she feels like she deserves to be hurt, and harry stops immediately and there’s a lot of fluffy aftercare and physical affection

thank you for the request!! i know it took me a million years to get to writing this but finally did it... i know it strays a little bit from all the details of your request but i hope you enjoy regardless!

warnings: spanking, dom/sub dynamic, descriptions of anxiety (maybe don’t read if you’re in a weird headspace, it’s not exactly pleasant!)

word count: 1.7k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

As soon as Y/N hears Harry’s car in the driveway, she dashes from the kitchen to the front door like a kid that’s heard an ice-cream van. After the day of work at home she’s had, of redoing paperwork she’d messed up the first time and struggling through technical issues and communication errors over email—she just needs Harry so badly.

In fact, she’d texted him earlier to let him know. Quite blatantly. With a photo she prays he opened when there was nobody else around.

When Y/N opens the door for him he freezes, taking in her appearance. She’s wearing just panties and one of his shirts, her bare legs completely on display for him. His gaze sweeps up and down her body for a second, then he swears under his breath and strides in quickly. Y/N jumps back to give him room, waiting a few feet ahead in the hallway.

He shuts the door with his arm swinging back behind him, not even glancing over his shoulder to watch it close.

There’s a second of silence as they stare each other down, and it’s in this second that Y/N feels them slip into the roles of the game she’s been wanting to play all day. His eyes go from wide in shock to steady. Her head bows almost of its own accord, responding to the straightening of Harry’s shoulders after he drops his bag.

He inhales sharply through his nose and drops his keys into the bowl on the bench. “You’ve been doing this on purpose, darling,” he says in a measured tone. It isn’t a question. He won’t be asking questions now—she won’t have to think, she can just listen to him, let him take over now.

She plays with the bottom of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling it up enough to reveal the slightly paler skin where her shorts would usually cover.

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Come here,” he says, beckoning her over.

She considers refusing, just to be a brat, but it’s a lot easier to just go along with him now she’s getting what she wanted. She twists her hands in the t-shirt in front of her as she approaches him, averting her eyes from his as he watches her, suddenly vulnerable under his gaze.

When she’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs her wrists to yank her grip on the shirt free, pulling her off balance so the only thing that stops her falling flat on her face is his arms. She tries to relax into his grip, tries to let herself go.

“Been so fucking needy today. That photo — nearly had me getting hard in the studio right in front of everyone, love,” he says, squeezing her wrists almost painfully. “And look how you answer the door, nearly naked for anyone walking on the street to see.” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue condescendingly. “Do you want to apologise for anything?”

She looks at him, pretends to think, and then shakes her head.

He sighs. “Of course not, you little brat.” His grip loosens. “Alright then. Go upstairs for me.”

She blinks at him.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Go on.” He spins her around and nudges her towards the stairs with a gentle push.

She glances over her shoulder at him before she goes and he only raises his eyebrows expectantly. She’s almost tempted to pull the back of the t-shirt down over her ass to cover herself, but that wouldn’t get her what she needs, and what she needs is Harry to take care of her—so she keeps her head bowed as she walks up the stairs, adding a little swing in her hips with each step just as the icing on the cake. She smiles when she hears his deep inhale from the hallway as he watches her the whole time.

Upstairs, she sits on the end of their bed with her hands in her lap, scratching at days-old nail polish she’ll need to redo soon. There’s a knot in her stomach that’s been twisting all day, stresses piling up and morphing into some ugly feeling she can’t shake, not without Harry’s help. She manages to peel all the bright pink colour off her left thumbnail while she waits.

It seems like forever before she hears Harry’s footsteps up the stairs but when she does, she straightens up. The sound of the door opening makes her jump in nervous shock. She flexes her fingers, trying to calm her jitters. It’s Harry. She needs him.

“Being such a brat today,” he says when he’s finally in front of her. “Aren’t you? Don’t know how to behave.” He sits beside her, squishing her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. “Need me to teach you a lesson, hm?”

She nods at him, eyes moony. Yes, this is what she wants, needs from him—to let him take over for a little while, let him take out his frustration on her, help her let go of her own.

His grip softens a bit. “This okay, baby?” he asks more quietly.

She swallows. “Yeah.”

He leans forward and gives her a quick kiss. She feels like melting against the softness of his lips, pressing against her own, the mouth she knows so well. It’s a comfort in the mess that her mind is feeling like right now.

But he isn’t so gentle as he drags her over his lap a moment later, her face roughly pushed down into the mattress. His hand squeezes her ass, only barely covered by her panties, and her breath hitches.

“Count for me.”

“Yes sir,” she breathes, closing her eyes.

Her exhale is cut short by the force of his palm cracking against her skin, jolting her forward over his lap. The sting dissipates quickly, taking none of the tension inside her with it.

“One,” she says.

“Good girl.” His hand comes down on her again, harder this time.

She screws her eyes shut. “Two.”

It isn’t feeling like how she wants it to feel. She’s too tense, restless, her mind unwilling to float away under Harry’s touch. The pain, which usually is laced with something brilliant and exciting, is just pain today. But with all the mistakes she’s made today, all the things she messed up that have just added to her workload and her stress—maybe this is what she deserves. Punishments are called that for a reason.

So she stays where she is, her head lowered so Harry won’t see anything wrong. She gasps at the third, and it takes her a second to remember she needs to count. “Three,” she says, her voice shuddering.

Harry pauses and she fears she’s made him upset, spoken too quietly, taken too long—she can’t do anything right.

“Love,” he says. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder gently. “Are those good tears or bad tears?”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and in the pause, realises her cheeks are wet. “Um,” she says. Her voice shakes.

Harry’s arm snakes underneath her and pulls her up, manoeuvring her so she straddles his lap and he can see her face. The crease between his brows is deep as his eyes dart over her face, his thumb coming to her cheek to brush a tear away.

She leans her head into his palm that was cracking down onto her skin just a minute ago and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“What happened? When did it change?” he asks, his voice soft again, his character leaving.

She shrugs. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without crying more, and she feels stupid enough already.

“It’s alright, love,” he says, shifting so he can sit up straighter and pull her closer to his chest. He rubs her back, kissing her hair. “Let’s just rest for a moment, alright?”

She nods into his shoulder, hiding her face. His hand cradles the back of her head. The panic that she was feeling is dissolving into nothing. All day she felt so tense with so much twisting inside her, and she’d thought she could force it out painfully—she was wrong, of course, and now she feels awful for roping Harry into her misguided attempt to fix herself.

After a couple minutes, Harry taps her to get her to look up at him. “Why’d you want a punishment today?” he asks, without accusation.

She shrugs, raising her shoulders as high as she can and then letting them drop sharply. “Just felt like I needed it.”

He nods. He understands that sometimes she feels like this—needs to lose herself in playing a role for an evening, forget about real life and its responsibilities—because he knows the feeling too. She’s helped him in this way before. They take it in turns: give each other what they need, when they need it. “Wasn’t helpful today, though?” he prompts, his eyebrows raised sympathetically.

She shakes her head, looking sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. He smiles a little bit and a shallow dimple appears in his cheek. “That’s fine. It’s just a game. We play it whenever you want to, we stop playing when you’re not enjoying it. That’s important, alright?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Need to stop apologising, baby,” he tells her. “Just keep talking to me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses her cheek and the gesture raises butterflies in her stomach, even still after all the months they’ve been together. It reminds her that he’s there for her, to look after her, to take care of her when she can’t do it for herself. His lips stay close to her skin as he asks, “How can I help, though, really?”

She buries her face back into his shoulder. “Dunno,” she says, her voice muffled. “Just need you.”

She feels his chin gently knock against the top of her head as he nods, his arms tightening around her again. “You’ve got me, baby. Always got me.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

thank you for reading! if you did like it, a reblog would be really appreciated as well as any feedback/comments you might have! you can find more of my writing on my masterlist.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.3k

warnings: smut!!, overstimulation, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk and begging, very very subtle d/s dynamics if you squint, slight angst??, awkwardness, pining 

Bucky’s heart was racing as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming.  It was never easy to watch that scene of you being fucked by somebody else— even if it wasn’t real, and even if it was technically your character that was getting fucked— but it was going to be an entirely new struggle with you a foot away, laying next to him on your bed.

“We only did two takes of this,” you remembered, talking over the conversation on-screen.  The smash cut to you being shoved against a wall, lips fighting for dominance in a searing kiss, made you chuckle.  “This we had to do, like, a million takes.”

Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist at the idea of you kissing this guy over and over.  “I’m sure he was real broken up about that,” he grumbled sardonically.

“No, I promise he actually was,” you defended, “I was terrible.  I kept laughing and ruining it, and it meant we had to keep starting over.”

That relieved some of his jealousy, hopeful that laughing meant you weren’t attracted to your co-star or turned on by filming a love scene.  He still felt his heart clench as he watched your shirt get pushed up and two hands (both flesh, like he was showing off or something) grab at your breasts.  Sooner than he was prepared for it, you were being thrown down onto the bed and moaning loudly, nails digging into his back as he stared down at you.

“I can’t even imagine how many guys have gotten off to this scene,” you shuddered.

I can’t believe I’m one of them, Bucky thought as he swallowed dryly.  “What about the guys on set?” he wondered aloud.  “Do they ever, you know, get…” he whistled and pointed his finger up straight, hoping it was enough to get the idea across.

You laughed, playfully shoving him on the shoulder.  “They have tape for that, to keep everything down in case they get a little too into it.”

Glancing to the screen, he wondered how this guy didn’t pop the tape right off.

“Have you ever…?” Bucky pressed, heart rate picking up as he pushed the boundaries a little bit.

“Have I ever… been turned on, while filming?” you finished his question.  “No,” you scoffed, sounding bemused and taking another swig of your drink.

“Why not?”

“I guess they’re just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Movie stars aren’t your type?” Bucky joked, but your answer was completely serious.

“Nope.”

He nodded slowly as he contemplated that, taking a moment to build up the courage to ask his next question.  “What is your type?”

You smirked a little, and he wasn’t sure at all what it meant aside from the fact that he was done for.  Whatever you were gonna say was sure to break his heart.  “Tall, dark, not famous…”

He could so picture you picking up fans at bars; you must have no trouble at all finding guys to mess around with.  Yep, totally heartbreaking.

“Good driver…” you continued, voice a little quieter and a little deeper.

Bucky cleared his throat anxiously.  “I guess that rules me out.”

“What?  You’re great; haven’t even blown any red lights or made illegal U-turns.”

“I mean, good drivers don’t eavesdrop on their passengers,” he explained, “especially when they’re with tall, dark, not-famous friends of theirs in the back.”

You laughed a little, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down.  He felt very exposed under your gaze.  “I didn’t mind,” you shrugged.

Oh god, oh fuck, Bucky’s mind raced, we’re talking about it.  All this time and we’re finally talking about it.  What the fuck do I say?  “I still shouldn’t have—” he began.

“I wanted you to,” you interrupted firmly.

“You… wanted me to look?”

“Wanted you to do a lot more than that,” you admitted.

He looked back at you with wide eyes, entirely devoid of thoughts or words or ideas on what to do in the moment.  Sure, it was pretty heavy flirting, but it wasn’t necessarily an invitation.  You said wanted, past tense, it didn’t mean you wanted him now.  Maybe you were just letting him know he missed his chance.  If he did the wrong thing and upset you, he’d never forgive himself.

“Seemed like you were pretty satisfied with what he was doing,” he remembered, hearing the waver in his voice and cringing.

“Only cause I was thinking about you,” you grinned.  “I do that a lot, actually.  I’m just usually alone when I do it…”

He shivered as you shifted onto your side and leaned towards him, reaching across his body to set your beer down on the bedside table next to him; with you so close, he feared his heart would beat out of his chest.  With the beer set aside, all you had to do was let your hand pull back to rest on his chest, and lift your leg up to rest on his, and you were straddling his side like it was the most simple, casual thing in the world.

But it wasn’t.  It was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him.  He looked down at you and blinked a few times, confident the hallucation would end but nope, he could feel the warmth of you radiating through his clothes, threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m usually in this bed, right here,” you continued slowly, and he had trouble keeping track of what you were saying with your finger trailing along his chest through his shirt, “warm under the covers, wearing a lot less than this, knowing you’re just a few rooms away and wishing you would come in here and touch me…”

"I’m here now,” he replied, just louder than a whisper.  “Can I touch you?" 

“Take off the gloves,” you requested softly.  He was quick with the right one, but hesitated before removing the left— the moment of truth.  Your breath hitched as the light caught the golden and black metal, and he winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no,” you denied, “it’s… sort of beautiful, actually.”

With you wrapped around his left side, it was natural for his right hand to move up your thigh.  His left hand brushing against your face seemed to surprise you, though.

"I'm sorry, is it cold?" he asked gently.

"A little," you giggled, "but I don't mind."

Demonstrating how little you minded, in fact, you slowly kissed the tips of his bionic fingers, getting more and more adventurous until you were suddenly slipping two of them into your mouth and down past your throat.

"Fuck," he shivered, silently thanking whatever gods were out there that technology made him capable of feeling the wet warmth of your mouth on his fingers.

"Just skin everywhere else, right?" you smirked.  "It's not a Swiss army knife down there?"

"Nope," he laughed, "flesh an' blood."

The blood aspect was especially salient as his cock filled so fast he thought he might pass out.  Your hand slipped down and started to ghost over the front of his jeans, and he fought every instinct to keep from bucking up into your hand.  You started to go for his belt but he sat up a bit.

“Wait,” he requested, clutching your shoulders a little; as soon as you looked back at him, he pulled you into a kiss, probably a little too aggressively but he was too pent up to care.  After all this waiting, he actually had to hold himself back a bit compared to how he really wanted to kiss you.  He moved his lips against yours slowly but with determination— and it was you, in the end, that started to slide your tongue along his lips until he opened them, giving him a chance to taste your mouth like he’d dreamed of for so long.  Past the beer was the unmistakable flavor of you, and he was instantly addicted to it.  His arms wrapped around you and held you close, one hand tangling in your hair a bit as you started to lean into his palm.  Your hands clutched at his shirt, the warmth of your touch managing to permeate through to his skin, and he heard the softest moan from you right against his lips.  It was perfection, and he would’ve been happy to stay like that forever if it weren’t for you sitting up to straddle him.  He couldn’t decide if it was the sight of you on top of him, or the weight of your body on his, or the feeling of your thighs clenching a bit just above his throbbing cock— it was probably all three, but he suddenly became so needy for you that his head was spinning.

Still absorbed in the kiss, he reached down and gently pulled at the knot holding your robe shut, letting it fall open before pushing it off your shoulders slowly.  You smiled against his lips and sat up, taking it off the rest of the way to reveal your entire nudity underneath.  You’d think that he would’ve wished to be naked with you, and that certainly would’ve made a few of his ideas a lot easier to act upon, but something about your bare body compared to his covered one— something about your mound grinding on his jeans like that— drove him fucking wild.

“God, baby,” he praised with a purr, running his hands all over whatever he could reach.  A movie could never do a body like this justice.  It deserved to be appreciated and worshipped in person, which was exactly what he planned to do.

“Your turn,” you giggled as you leaned down, unbuttoning his shirt hastily.  He was proud of the way you bit down on your lip as his skin was exposed, though he was also a bit embarrassed to reveal he was wearing his dog tags underneath.  “A little more metal under here than I was expecting,” you smirked, trailing an errant finger over the silver chain.  “There’s always more to you than meets the eye… what other secrets are you hiding, hm?”

Right now, he wanted you to have all his secrets.  He wanted to give you everything.  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted first.

“I don’t think that’s that much of a secret,” you smirked as you finished the last button. 

He sat up to help you discard the shirt, shivering as your touch trailed over his chest, his abs; then his scars, and the rest of the arm.  He used it to pull you down by your neck for another kiss, testing the waters by getting a touch rougher and letting more of his desperation seep through.  You responded very well, your moans gliding from your tongue onto his as your hips started to rock on top of his.  “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he gently mocked, smiling as he started to kiss down your neck and onto your shoulder.  “Ridin’ me through my jeans, like a damn teenager dry-humping after prom.”

“Hnng, Bucky,” you choked, slowing down.

He grabbed your hips with both hands.  “Hey, I didn’t say to stop.”  

With a moan and renewed vigor, you moved faster on top of him, the rough denim clearly a bit too much for your sensitive clit as your thighs began to quiver where they were clamped down around his.  The stimulation on his cock, alternatively, was rather dulled through such thick clothing— it was just enough to keep him desperate, but not enough to get him too near coming, which was the way he wanted it at the moment.  If anything, it was the sight of you rubbing yourself on him desperately that put his restraint at risk.

“Can you feel how hard I am, baby?” he growled a little.  “Can you feel how hard you make me?”

You nodded with a little gasp.  "God, Bucky, I want it in me now."

"Not yet, pretty girl,” he soothed with a smirk.  “I need to taste you first."

He flipped you onto your back and settled on top of you between your legs; he kissed you one more time, resisting the urge to rub his hips on yours again before heading down south to suck your nipple between his lips.  You were so sensitive, moaning loudly each time his tongue circled the bud, and he moaned at the feeling of the skin hardening against his tongue.  He made sure to give some attention to the other one before making a show of kissing down your chest and stomach, looking back up at you with a stare that he could only hope carried all the weight that he was feeling.

"I get it," you grinned down at him, "this is how you reclaim your territory.  You're gonna do what he did to me, but so much better until I can't even remember his name, right?"

"Sweetheart, you didn't even remember his name thirty seconds after it happened,” he reminded you between kisses, moving lower and lower on the bed.

"So you're not trying to assert dominance over sexual competition?" you pressed with a gleam of challenge in your eyes.

"You need to stop reading those evolutionary biology books," he laughed, but then got a bit more stern. "Think of it this way: I don't see any of those stupid boys as competition.  They're nothing.  It's you who needs to know that nobody can make you feel as good as I can."

That seemed to shut you up for the moment, and he smirked before getting back to work kissing along your spread thighs and shaking hips.  He could already smell your need in the air, intoxicating to the point that he struggled to stay focused on mercilessly teasing you.  He wanted to taste you so bad, but he needed to hear you beg him for it.  He started with one finger gently exploring your folds, slow and light, until he felt your hips trying to push up into him for more stimulation.  Then all he had to do was kiss that spot right on the inside of your thigh that wasn’t quite where you wanted him, and you arched your back with a desperate whine.  “Bucky, please,” you whimpered. 

He laughed a little, amused by your little sobs and the way your hands clutched at the comforter beneath you.  “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

“Your mouth,” you gasped.

“Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

You snarled with irritation but answered anyway.  “My pussy.”

“I don’t think I understand,” he encouraged, voice getting deeper on accident as his own arousal became too intense to ignore.

You growled frustratedly but got what he was getting at.  “I need your mouth on my pussy, Bucky, please…”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, darlin’?  All you had to do was ask,” he grinned as he roughly grabbed your thighs and buried his face in between them, sloppily exploring you with his tongue until your taste coated his mouth and overwhelmed all his senses.

“Fuck!” you yelped, shivering against him.  “Oh god, yes, Bucky, oh my god…”

“Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?” he asked, pulling back just as much as he needed to to speak.

“Yes, Bucky, just like that,” you nodded wildly, “feels so good, don’t fucking stop, please—”

He dove in again, finding a pattern that allowed him to suck on your clit and push his tongue inside you simultaneously.  That was the combination that seemed to rile you up most, your hands searching for something to hold on to until they suddenly found purchase gripping his hair, guiding him as your hips bucked against his face.  That was fine with him— more than that, in fact, cause he thought it was so sexy when you demanded control like that— until you switched from pulling him in to pushing him away.  That wouldn’t do at all; with a growl, he grabbed your wrists and forced them down beside you, holding them firm as he licked at you rougher and faster.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you sobbed, back arching so much that he had to fight to keep you in his mouth, “right there, right there— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He nodded, but it wasn’t permission; it was ‘of course you are.’

Your walls clenched so hard that your entire sex was pulsing in his mouth, your taste getting stronger in the same way your moans got louder.  He wanted to hold you there as long as you could, and that turned out to be quite a while; he stopped when your screams of pleasure started to push too far into pain, finally letting you rest… for a moment, that is.

He watched your panting breaths catch as he slowly pushed a finger into your hole; it was still pulsing a little bit from the orgasm, and was unbearably hot and wet.

"Fuck, this pretty little pussy is tryin' to suck me in, you see that?  Wants me so bad…"

"M-more, Bucky, please," you whispered.  He obeyed and slipped in a second finger, slowly twisting and trying to open you up for him.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked with a smile as he watched your back arch, returning to suck on your clit without waiting for an answer.  He relished the weight of your thighs on his shoulders, taking mental note of where he had to touch you to make them clench around his head.  You kept repeating 'yes' but he didn't think it was intended as an answer to his question because he was pretty sure you hadn't even heard the question.  Still, it was answer enough nonetheless.

He could tell it wouldn't take that long to get you there again, with your g-spot all swollen from the last one.  He didn't push too hard on it yet, just letting his fingers curl ever so slightly to apply a teasing amount of pressure.  

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" you moaned between sobs.

His cock seemed to process that question before his brain did.   "Yes," he answered quickly, even though he thought it was rude to talk with his mouth full.

"Then get on with it," you suggested desperately.  "Come on up here and fuck me."

"I'm not done with this yet," he insisted.

Your head fell back as you hissed frustratedly through your teeth.  "Damn you and your… thoroughness."

"No point in doing anything if you're not gonna do it right," he laughed.  "Besides, I couldn't stop now when you're about to come."

You looked back at him for a second like you didn't agree with that assessment, until he curled his fingers again and your walls rippled erratically around him.  "Fuck," you shuddered.  “Please fuck me, please fuck me, please,” you sobbed, “I need it so bad, I need you inside me— Bucky, pleasepleaseplease—”

He growled against your skin, struggling to resist that but desperate to make you come just one more time before he gave in.  His cock really hated that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted, throbbing and weeping another drop of precum just to remind him of his own desperation.  But he stayed strong, focusing on his task as he felt your walls tighten around him with another orgasm.

You nearly screamed with this one, your voice breaking as your nails dug into the bed beneath you.  You looked fucking perfect with your head thrown back in pleasure like that— and you tasted even better as a gush of your arousal coated his tongue.  

He kept circling your bud with his tongue until you started to sob a little and try to push him off of you, “can’t take anymore, please—”

And he took pity on you, for once— or maybe it was moreso pity on himself as he sat up and palmed himself through his jeans.  He was so hard it hurt, and you looked like you could tell by the way you looked up at him: a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, still, even with the way they’d glazed over a bit from coming so hard.  “Get over here,” you purred as you sat up and pulled him down on top of you, kissing him again as your hands slipped down to clutch at his chest.

Of everything he’d imagined, he had never even thought to consider what it would be like to be undressed by you.  Those nimble fingers fiddling with his belt, working open his fly and zipper with such unabashed desperation, like you needed him more than you’d ever needed anything… truly, it was intoxicating.

Then again, it was nothing compared to your hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his cock.  He was sure he’d never gotten so much out of just one touch before, and he had to fight off the moan bubbling in his throat.  Your hands were so soft as they started to gently stroke him; his hips moved of their own accord as they started to thrust into your grasp.

“God, I need you to fuck me,” you groaned, “please, Bucky, need it so bad.”

Entirely speechless as this point, all he could do was nod as he pushed your hands off of him, pushing his jeans off quickly so as to be away from you as briefly as he could manage— and then he was on you again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, moaning when he finally let his cock brush between your legs for a moment.  Even just that and he was already coated in your slick: the rewards of demanding to be thorough, clearly.

“Please,” you sobbed, “put it in me, can’t wait any more, I’ve waited so long…”

It almost made him stop to think, because it was ambiguous if you just meant tonight or more.  But you were begging him for his cock so he wasn’t really in any position to think.

So many times he had wondered if your real moans sounded anything like your fake ones from the movie.  He fantasized for months about a chance to make the comparison.  But with you in front of him, under him, biting down on your lip as he pushed into your perfect warmth, he couldn’t even remember that you’d ever been in a movie.  He couldn’t think about anything else but this moment, right now, and he didn’t want to.

“God, Bucky,” you sighed, as if the two were being regarded at the same level in your mind— and he wasn't even halfway in yet.

Equal parts of him wanted to ease you into it and to tear you in half.  You'd always ignited this paradox in him, this instinct to protect and to destroy, this desire to cherish you and dominate you, but it was most apparent now.  It made him worry that he could never really give you what you deserved, but naturally, he was at his most selfish in this moment.  He had only just begun to push himself into you and he was ready to justify anything to get the rest of the way and bury himself to the hilt.

Your body opened up to him slightly, enough that he felt mostly right about going a little deeper; you gasped and clutched at his forearm, and that was only just barely enough to stop him as a sick pressure of arousal made his gut twist.  Oddly enough, your nails biting into his skin did more to egg him on than it did to slow him down.

He kept his eyes trained on where your bodies were joined, watching in awe at the way you looked stretched out around him; he could feel your struggle to take him in the way your walls quivered and quaked, but he could hear how much you enjoyed it as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"I want it all, Bucky, please," you begged.  Just because he needed to, he was rough with the last inch— not enough for it to be really brutal, but plenty to elicit a precious little sob from you.

It felt so good to be all the way in you that it nearly made him dizzy.  

"Baby," you whispered, and it sounded just like the way you'd said it in the back of the car, just like the way he'd committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to visit whenever he needed to feed his addiction.

How could his chest not burn with jealousy when he remembered that night?  How could he cope with that jealousy with anything but pinning you down and fucking you hard and fast like it was the end of the goddamn world?

You all but screamed as he did it, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you.  He feared it would be more than you could handle but you went from wet to dripping in an instant, your moans loud and hoarse but undeniably a sound of pleasure.  It turned him on even more to know that you liked getting fucked this hard; maybe he didn't need to worry so much about holding back, if this was gonna make you bite your lip and look up at him like that.

"Bucky, oh my god," you sighed, a hint of disbelief in your tone, "it's so good, fuck, you feel so good…"

He wanted to hear more, but he couldn't resist capturing your lips in a kiss first, sloppy and aggressive and needy but overall perfect.  It was almost like he could taste your moans as they vibrated over his tongue, until he could barely tell his apart from yours anymore.  Pulling back, his dog tags were dangling over your face, and you looked so damn good with his name tickling your skin.  

When he lifted your legs and pushed them back up into your chest, you snarled and clutched at the sheets beneath you.  "Too deep?" he asked, not sure himself if it was concern or taunting or somewhere in the middle.

"So fucking deep," you answered, "but not too deep."

"Then maybe I'm not deep enough," he smirked, and you laughed.

"You're trying to ruin me, is that it?" you pressed.

He was afraid to be entirely honest, but your tone wasn't one of fear.  "Something like that," he admitted after a moment.

"It's working," you sighed as you pulled him down by the chain of his tags, kissing him again as your arms slipped around his neck and held him close.

His hands squeezed your thighs, before taking a detour to run up and down your legs.  It made you shiver, and he felt it from inside you which was overwhelmingly erotic.  The time he’d spent making you come so many times was paying off: for one, you were so wet it made him feel a little-lightheaded, but also it meant that he felt familiar with your body now.  He knew what it meant when your walls tightened just so, when you bit your lip that way, when your moans sounded all breathy and strained.  That being, of course, that you were about to come— and he couldn’t wait for you to come just from being fucked, make a mess all over his cock.

And yet, there was still so much more to discover: like how it felt when your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him inside, or when your fingers dug into his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Gonna come,” you warned him with half-lidded eyes and your mouth fallen slack, “oh my god, Bucky, you’re gonna make me come.”

He growled and tightened his grip on your thigh— something to stabilize him as he fought so hard to stave off his own orgasm.  You felt so good and he could probably come just from the sight of you like this anyways, let alone being inside you right now.  Think about baseball think about baseball think about baseball—

“Yes!” you screamed.  “Right there, oh fuck, Buckyyyyy!” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, completely unable to think about anything but you, lost in the way you cried out his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him so perfectly.  

Maybe he was disturbed for thinking you looked pretty with your eyes filling with tears.  He was definitely disturbed for taking some pride in making you cry.  Of course, only because he was making you cry from this.  If he had it his way, Bucky would make you cry in only this way, every day, forever— and make sure nobody made you cry in any other way, while he was at it.  You hiccuped your sob as he continued to pound into you, refusing to let up even as he leaned down to kiss away your tears.  “S-so good,” you mumbled weakly, “Bucky… please…”

"Fuck, gonna come— I'm gonna come," he stammered his warning.

"Inside me, please," you whimpered, "I want it inside me."

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shaking his head in some form of exhausted shock.  You grinned, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer to you until your lips brushed against his ear.

"Bucky, I want you to come inside me," you repeated in a slow whisper.  "I want every drop of your come in my pussy, I wanna be so full of you, I wanna feel it leaking out all night, I want you to make me yours."

How was he supposed to hold back anymore, with you talking like that?  With you weaving your fingers into his hair and tightening your legs around his hips, with you kissing him deeply and suddenly?  A weak moan was lost to your lips as he filled you, warmth washing over every part of him until he thought he might just melt.  You smiled against him, and he summoned just enough strength to not collapse on top of you and surely crush you with his weight.  Instead, he gave you one last kiss before burying his face in your neck, laughing exhaustedly.  

"Mine, huh?” he remembered.  “You really mean it?"

You hummed quietly, holding him tightly.  "I probably shouldn't answer that question just after you made me come a dozen times."

"No no, you should,” he pressed as he pushed up to hover over you.

You smiled and looked back up at him.  "I'm yours, Bucky."

He growled, leaning down to give your neck light teasing kisses.  "Fuck, keep talkin' like that and I'll double that dozen."

"My body couldn't take it," you asserted.

"I'd make you take it," he promised.

You bit down on your lip, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.  You weren't as good at feigning innocence as you seemed to think.

"Oh, you like that," he posited.  "Maybe someday I'll tie you down and make you come until all you know how to do is say my name, hm?"

"Bet it wouldn't even take you that long," you admitted.  "I already feel pretty braindead."

Testing that theory, he reached down and drew light circles over your swollen clit with his thumb, even just that subtle touch making your legs and inner walls quiver as your back arched.

"Bucky," you whimpered as you tried to push his hand away, "s'too much, please…"

"Nuh uh, pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart again.  You know how many times I dreamed of making you come?"

You shook your head.

"Me either, but I wanna keep doing it until I feel like I've reached a number that at least comes close.  I've finally got you in my arms and I won't let you go until I've made up for all the time I wasted."

Notably, his cock which had begun to soften inside you was now getting hard again, from some combination of watching you and feeling you in this moment.

“How do you feel about a second round?” he suggested with a smirk, even as his muscles ached already.  Your eyes went wide but your walls clenched, too.  That was answer enough for him.  “I might break you,” he warned.

“Promise?” you smirked.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Jane and Mr Sinclair

I know that they are like little minor characters, but I really do like the pairing of Mr Sinclair and Jane.

I like to think that Jane herself is an artist, more specifically a painter. She prefers portraits to landscapes and watercolours to oils and for as long as she can remember she has dreamt of having her own gallery opening. Her fingers are stained with ink and paint, but for all her passion Jane is well...her art is just terrible. All art is subjective of course, but Jane seems to be an exception to that rule.

Throughout the years her family and friends have tried to subtly hint that her talents lay elsewhere - her friends wanted to protect her, her family were embarrassed by her (I also headcanon that Jane is overlooked to the point of neglect by her parents) - but it was only when she heard two of her peers mocking her work that Jane finally put her paintbrushes away. She gave up on her dream. Now she only paints at home and her art only hangs in the privacy of her bedroom.

However, during their courtship Jane accidentally lets slip to Sinclair that she was an artist. Now normally Sinclair wouldn't badger a fellow creative into showing their work. He knows how personal art is, but he is so enchanted by Jane that he manages to convince her to show him her work. Jane cannot say no.

She trusts Mr Sinclair completely but she is still terrified when she shows him her portfolio. To Jane, Mr Sinclair is a genius, in all possibility the greatest living poet. She dreads the awkward silence and polite but empty words that come when others view her work. She is expecting the same reaction from Mr Sinclair.

And there is silence. Moments that seem to drag on forever. Jane cannot look at him, finding the clock on the mantelpiece suddenly very interesting. Finally though Jane gathers up the courage to look up.

Sinclair is sitting in the chair opposite holding her work as if it was made of glass, mouth agape and stars in his eyes for Sinclair has never seen such beauty put on paper before. He has seen the great classics, visited the Sistine Chapel, but for the first time he feels he is looking at true art. And then when he looks up at Jane he knows he is looking at perfection.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with Sinclair asking her question after question - her inspiration, what draws her to art - and begging her to let him see more of her creations. He tells her that he would think it a privilege to sit for one of her portraits, a confession which makes Jane blush all shades of red. Sinclair never lies so Jane knows he is not shamelessly flattering her.

When Jane admits to him that he is the first person to ever like her work he is gobsmacked.

"My dear Miss Longmore, the greats are never appreciated in their time."

The next day Mr Sinclair asks for Jane's hand in marriage. He cannot spend another day not having her in his arms. He wants to hold her, kiss her and to unashamedly worship her. He wants to boast that she is his wife.

I just imagine that Jane had an unhappy childhood where she was overlooked in favour of her more talented prettier siblings. It is this HC that makes me want her to find love and to be accepted for who she is, and for Sinclair to be accepted for who he is too.

Just a happy marriage for these two innocents in a home with Jane's paintings on proud display throughout the house and Sinclair reading poetry and asking for advice from her on a daily basis. It sounds cheesy but they are each others muse.

I also like the idea of them finding other artists and establishing a group of like minded creatives (like a Regency-era Bloomsbury set) but all the members - writers, artists, actors, musicians - are all terrible in their chosen crafts. "Not appreciated". It is only the other members who can see the beauty in their work.

Phew! And now I have finally shared this odd headcanon of mine with you.

OMG OMG-

HONEY, YOU’RE A GENIUS! 😱

I’m literally gawking at the screen because this is such a great idea and it gives both of them so much depth and now I wanna hear more about Jane and Mr. Sinclair! ❤😍

First of all, Jane as an artist –an underrated artist- makes so much sense! ❤ Like, that could definitely be one of the reasons why she was drawn to Mr. Sinclair, and why she never really made a move on him! Because –and it’s connected to your other wonderful headcanon as well- if Jane’s parents neglected her and didn’t support her art, of course she wouldn’t be able to even hope to make a conversation with Mr. Sinclair whom she idolizes as an artist❤

Omg poor Jane, being mocked by her peers for her art😭 I’m so protective of her now❤😭

Sinclair is sitting in the chair opposite holding her work as if it was made of glass, mouth agape and stars in his eyes for Sinclair has never seen such beauty put on paper before. He has seen the great classics, visited the Sistine Chapel, but for the first time he feels he is looking at true art. And then when he looks up at Jane he knows he is looking at perfection. THIS IS SUCH A SOFT MOMENT AND YOU DESCRIBED IT PERFECTLY-

I’m going to cry, he loves her so much! 😍❤❤

"My dear Miss Longmore, the greats are never appreciated in their time." HE IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT😱🥰

They need to marry asap, they’re so cuuuute!😍 And I love that they’re each other’s muse! 🥰

I also like the idea of them finding other artists and establishing a group of like minded creatives (like a Regency-era Bloomsbury set) but all the members - writers, artists, actors, musicians - are all terrible in their chosen crafts. "Not appreciated". It is only the other members who can see the beauty in their work. I love this idea as well! And your amazing HC made me get a HC of it, and like, what if their little group was actually praised for all their work a century or two later?! 😱 Especially Jane 😍

Honey I cannot thank you enough for this, you’ve made me so happy with this HC! ❤ Thank you so so much, I totally see this as canon now!😍🥰❤❤❤

[guardianofrivendell]

Reckless

Meludir x gender neutral reader

Requested: Yes! Anon asked: “Hello, can i please get a oneshot between meludir and reader where reader is injured from an orc attack and meludir is looking after them?”

Warnings: I tried to write something fluffy, I really did, just a normal fluffy kind of oneshot but the force of sarcasm and sass is too strong! 

A/N: I didn’t know Meludir that well, and there isn’t much information about him besides that he’s from the Mirkwood guard, so I just went with my own interpretation of his character. This was also a request that was long overdue (by now all of my requests fall into that category, I AM SO SORRY).

“I can’t believe we’ve waited so long,” Meludir chuckled, gently wiping the hair out of your face.  

You were both relaxing together at the edge of the forest, right at the other side of the bridge where the trees stopped and the palace grounds began. It was one of the more quieter spots in the kingdom, away from all the hustling and bustling of the palace, but still close enough so you would notice if something was wrong. Your sense of duty as a member of the Mirkwood Guard was never far away, even if you had some time off.

Meludir was sitting with his back against a tree, your head resting in his lap, your eyes closed. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and the other one was now lazily going through your hair. For a moment it felt like it was just the two of you, and time stood still. 

“Maybe we were a little too blind to see what was right in front of us,” you said in response, and brought the hand that was going through your hair to your lips to kiss it, marveling at the softness of his skin. “But I’m glad our eyes finally opened, Meludir. I don’t think I could have gone another day dancing around each other, meleth nin.”

Meludir hummed softly and placed a kiss on your forehead. “I could not agree more. Gi melin, mîr nin. An uin.” (I love you, my treasure, forever)

He then started singing to you, his voice soothing and barely above a whisper. You focused on the caresses of his thumb on your hand, and when his fingers started gently scratching your scalp, you felt yourself slowly slipping away. 

“Sleep, meleth nin. Sleep, my one true star.”

The high-pitched scratching of a chair dragging across the floor pulled you out of your more than pleasant dream. 

You desperately tried to focus on the last images which were still lingering in your mind but alas, the loving words sung by Meludir were slowly replaced with the soft thumping of a massive headache and your head was no longer resting on his comfortable lap but on a fluffy pillow instead. Which was also nice but, you know, not the same. 

Someone took your hand in theirs, followed by a soft squeeze. No, no, no, you weren’t ready to wake up yet! You weren’t done with that dream! Who needed the cruel reality where your best friend was just that, your best friend - with the emphasis on friend - while in your dreams he was your intended? So hello dreamworld it was! 

You tried to turn on your side so you could try and go back to sleep, but as soon as your right leg shifted just the tiniest bit, a shot of pain went through it, setting it on fire and making your body go rigid. 

Okay, so moving was a big no no. What happened to you?

You inhaled a little deeper to try and breathe through the pain, when the scent of herbs and starched linen filled your nose.  Wait a minute... The pain in your leg, the smell of herbs and linen…  This was not your own comfortable bed you were lying in! 

You were in the healing wing! 

Okay… Maybe you should open your eyes and check? Just to be sure?

But you were rather comfortable if you were being honest - if you didn’t count the slight throbbing in your head and your leg that was still hurting - and as long as your eyes remained closed, you didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of whatever happened to you. 

Better make the most of it and try and sleep some more! 

But alas… there was no rest for you when flashes of what had happened shot through your head, making you forget about the pain for a moment. 

You had been on a patrol through the deeper parts of the forest with your friend Meludir and a few other guards when you’d stumbled across a couple of spiders. Despite being far outnumbered by the vile creatures, you came out victorious, but you couldn’t prevent some of the less experienced guards from getting hurt. While you were taking care of their injuries, Meludir had spotted an orc pack in the distance. 

So of course you had to go after them… By yourself, leaving a very upset Meludir with the wounded. You’d deal with him afterwards. He will come around eventually, he always did. That’s why you were such good friends. 

You were all about impulsive decisions. It’s what made you join the Mirkwood Guard in the first place and usually that turned out for the best. This time? Hmm… not so much. 

You were caught off guard during the fight and suffered a stab wound in your leg because of it, there were simply too many Orcs for you to face alone. Oh you could almost hear Meludir’s ‘I told you so’! While you were distracted trying to get the dagger out of your thigh as soon as possible - afraid it was poisoned - one of the remaining Orcs saw its chance and charged at you. Your reflexes were too slow and you failed to deflect the hilt of his sword. That’s when the lights went out. 

“Y/N?”

Another squeeze in your hand. 

Seriously, how impatient can someone get? You were sleeping! Or trying to, your leg was still hurting after all. Didn’t they teach them how rude it was to wake a sleeping, injured person? Not good for the healing process! 

But the sounds surrounding you were getting louder, reverberating against the insides of your skull and making your head throb even worse. Guess that blow to your head actually did do some damage there. Better keep those eyes closed for a while longer, you thought. 

But you were also curious, and you couldn’t help trying to concentrate on the sounds closest to you. You could hear a voice talking softly to themselves, it sounded oddly familiar, it had sung to you in your dream not ten minutes ago. Meludir…

You suddenly remembered who exactly you were dreaming of a few moments ago. Oh Eru, you didn’t talk in your sleep right?!

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

Yeah, that was Meludir alright. You could almost hear the smirk coming through his voice. The hand covering yours was probably his too. 

Oh, he was not going to like this. He’s probably worried sick, or angry. Or both. Either way, you were in trouble. 

You opened your eyes a little to take a small peek. If there was even the slightest hint of anger on his face, you were going to pretend to be asleep for a little while longer.

Meludir seemed relaxed at first sight, his elbows were resting on his knees, his hands holding onto your left one. He was still wearing his uniform, covered with blood stains from the encounter with the spiders, and you noticed some black Orc blood as well. But he was unharmed, thank the Valar. 

His dark eyes were already staring at you as soon as your eyes met his, boring into yours with such an intensity that you couldn’t help but look away in shame...  Busted.

“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” you tried to joke, trying to assess his current mood. He looked like he was relieved to see you awake. This might not be so bad after all.

Oh how naive could you be...

“Now that you’ve finally opened your eyes...” he began. 

The relief that was etched on his face slowly turned into anger. Uh-oh. 

“What were you thinking, Y/N?!” he whisper-shouted, smacking your arm. 

“Hey hey, no assaulting the injured!” you protested, grasping your arm.

“Your arm is fine! Wish I could say the same about your leg and your head,” he huffed.  

You rolled your eyes and let go of your arm. 

“Both are still attached to my body so clearly you are overreacting, Meludir!”

“I am overreacting? Who exactly went after an entire Orc pack by themselves?! You! And without even telling me, you just ran off!” he ranted, seeming to forget he was in the healing wing. “You could’ve died, Y/N!”

“But I didn’t,” you countered. 

Meludir rushed to stand, his swift movement unbalancing the chair. 

“But you could have! I could have lost you!” he snapped, his hands going through his dark hair in frustration. 

You didn’t know if he said that last sentence to himself or not, but this was the first time you saw him in such a state and you didn’t know what to think of it. 

You hated it when Meludir was angry at you. He just had to get it all off his chest, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you liked it when he yelled at you.

One of the healers nearby reprimanded him for raising his voice, and that seemed to calm the Mirkwood Elf a little. He looked at you apologetically.  

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just- Never mind…” He took a seat on your bed this time, carefully as to not hurt your leg. “Tell me, how are you feeling?” he asked, taking a deep breath. 

Oh. Okay, we finally have worried Meludir. That’s a good thing. You could work with him.

“Killer headache and as long as I lie still, I should be fine. I’ll be back up in no time.”

“You had me- and us, you had us worried there, Y/N.”

Meludir’s hand wrapped around yours again. Weird, since when did you guys start to hold hands this much?

“Awww, you were worried about me?” you teased him, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your stomach when you looked at your joined hands.  

“Y/N, I found you unconscious and bleeding on the ground with Orcs leaning over you. Of course I was worried!” he raised his voice, his eyes wide in concern. “You were out for several hours!”

After a few seconds Meludir let go of your hand and sighed. 

You finally got a good look at him and you noticed his hair was messy, some strands sticking to the side of his head. He looked tired, you didn’t think you ever saw him tired before. He was a complete mess. Very unlike him.

The poor Elf had probably been at your side the whole time. Guilt started settling in your stomach.

“I’m sorry I made you worried,” you apologised, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Meludir chuckled. “Yeah, we both know that’s not going to happen.”

You lifted your head a little to look around, and you were surprised to see the other beds empty. Where were the other guards?

“How are the others?”

“Some scratches and minor injuries, a few spider bites. Nothing the healers couldn’t fix. You were worse off than them,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You let your head drop back into the pillow dramatically, relieved to hear the others were fine. But something still bothered you.

You rolled your head to the side to look at him and pointed at his chest.

“Why is there Orc blood on your uniform?”

“Well, someone had to finish what you started.”

Is that a smirk you saw? The cheeky bastard!

“Oh, just you wait until I get back on my feet, I’ll happily remind you who’s the better fighter,” you challenged him. 

“That’ll take some time, the healers said you can go to your own chambers once you wake up, but…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead looking at you in apprehension. 

“What? What’s with the dramatic pause?”

“You have to stay off guard duty for at least two weeks. Orders from the healers and King Thranduil.” 

“What?” you gasped, and you winced when you sat up a little too fast and careless, hurting your leg in the process. Your hand flew towards your thigh and you saw Meludir’s hands doing the same. 

“Don’t hurt the messenger! Or yourself!” he joked, but you didn’t miss the slight hint of fear and worry in his eyes. Good.

“Meludir,” you whined, dragging out his name, “you don’t understand! I’ll die out of boredom!”

“Your wound needs healing, Y/N. You cannot use your leg and you need your rest.” 

He grabbed your hand and traced your knuckles with his thumb. 

“And in the meantime I’ll be there to take care of you.”

Oh. Oh.

Well in that case...

He squeezed your hand again, and smiled at you. It lit up his entire face, and you couldn’t help but mimic his expression. Maybe with him as your private nurse it wouldn’t be so bad after all. The prospect of being carried around by Meludir all the time made it all seem almost enjoyable. 

“But before I carry you to your chambers, I need you to explain something to me first, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course, what is it?”

The corner of his lip twitched and his entire demeanour changed. 

“Why did you call me ‘meleth nin’ in your sleep?”

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[moodymelanist]

Would love to read both of the nessian drunk fics. But if i had to pick, I’d pick a new both nessian drunk. And hope you’ll post drunk cassian another time❤️❤️❤️

okay multiple people commented saying they wanted to see Nessian drunk together — ask and you shall receive, y’all.

for this one let’s say Nesta and Cassian are best friends/roommates and this is pre-relationship. Modern AU as usual 😌

When Cassian barged into her room with a bottle of tequila in his hands, Nesta knew she was done for.

“I thought we were having a quiet night in,” she whined. She was under her covers with a book and didn’t want to stop reading so close to the good parts — the main characters had finally given into their desires and were about to have wildly passionate sex — but her best friend had a way of asking her to do things that made it really hard to say no.

“I lied,” he said simply. “I’m bored out of my mind and you promised you’d play truth or dare with me two weeks ago.”

“You remember that?” she asked skeptically. He’d gone out with his friends and Azriel had called her begging for her to take an extremely drunk Cassian back home, and she’d promised to play truth or dare with him in exchange for him coming home without a fuss.

“Of course I did,” he said. “You promised.”

Nesta looked away, willing her cheeks not to flush at his words. He’s your best friend, she reminded herself. He doesn’t think about you like that.

Cassian and Nesta had been best friends for as long as either of them could remember. They’d been inseparable ever since elementary school when the Archerons had moved to Velaris and Cassian had taken one look at her and declared she was going to be his best friend forever.

They’d been living together for a couple months; it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but once she realized how she felt about him, it was absolute torture. She couldn’t escape him, whether it was the sight of him coming back hot and sweaty from the gym or the sounds of him fucking somebody who wasn’t her. But that wasn’t his fault — she’d never blame him for living his life. She was the one stuck on someone who had only seen her as a friend, not him.

A few minutes later she joined him at their small kitchen table, the bottle of tequila sitting in between them. She motioned for him to go first since he was the one who wanted to play.

Cassian smiled widely and her heartbeat sped up at the sight. “Truth or dare, Nes?”

“Truth,” she said.

“What’s the real reason you dumped Tomas?” he asked. She tried to hide her grimace but he caught it; they knew each other far too well. “I don’t believe you just didn’t work out or whatever you tried to tell me.”

She just shook her head and grabbed the bottle of tequila, making a face as it burned down her throat. There was absolutely no way she was admitting that she’d dumped Tomas because she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Truth or dare, Cassian?” Nesta asked once she’d swallowed.

“Dare,” Cassian said with a smirk.

“Text the last person you hooked up with and ask them to rate the encounter,” she said.

“Can’t text my hand,” he replied. She rolled her eyes and he chuckled before pulling out his phone. “I’ll let you know when I get a response, sweetheart. Truth or dare?”

They went back and forth for a few rounds, Nesta absolutely refusing to take a dare while Cassian exclusively picked them. Eventually she was feeling a solid buzz and he was still completely sober, so he took a few shots to catch up with her out of the “goodness of his heart,” according to him.

“Can’t have you drinking alone,” he said with a wink.

“You’re insufferable,” she said, but they both knew she didn’t mean it. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he replied.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Okay. Why don’t you ever settle down with any of the people you bring home?”

Cassian seemed equally surprised by her question, but he didn’t balk. “Because the person I really want isn’t into me.”

“Bullshit,” she said, complete with a little giggle. She was feeling warm and loose all over, which definitely meant she should slow down with the tequila, but she was actually starting to have fun now. “You’re a nice guy.”

“Just a nice guy?”

“Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Isn’t that what best friends are for, Archeron? Let’s hear it. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she said, feeling bold.

“Okay,” he replied. “I dare you to tell me all the things you like about me.”

Nesta laughed, the sound bubbling out of her at how ridiculously easy that was. If only he knew how much she thought about him. “You have great hair. Nice smile. You’re funny. And you’re completely ripped, you could probably bench press me.”

“You want me to try?” Cassian asked. He had that mischievous look in his eye that she loved and she knew she couldn’t say no.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed. They were both drunk enough that it seemed like a good enough idea.

She watched as he laid down on the floor and raised his arms, motioning for her to come closer. She almost tripped over her own two feet as she got up, but managed to make it over to him without any other issues.

She giggled again as he lifted her like she was nothing. “You’re so strong.”

“You’re light as hell,” he said. His hands shifted under her as he lifted her again, and she tried not to squirm from how close his right hand was to her ass. “Maybe I should be feeding you more.”

“But I’m not hungry for food,” she whined, her deepest desires slipping out before she could think to shut her mouth.

Cassian lowered her down to the floor and turned over to face her, his hazel eyes drawing her in much more than usual. “What are you hungry for?”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said. She pressed her hand over her mouth to stop her from saying anything else, cursing her loose tongue.

“Tell me,” he said, reaching out to poke her. When she didn’t say anything he started tickling her stomach, his big hands no match for her much smaller ones. She was crying from laughter within two minutes as she failed to keep him away from her.

“I’ll never tell,” she said, gasping for breath.

“Just admit it,” he demanded, laughing. He swung his leg over hers to keep her from squirming away and she immediately froze at how close he was to her. He froze too, not sure what to do now that she wasn’t trying to actively get away from him.

“It’s my turn for truth or dare,” she whispered. He nodded sagely, the moment suddenly feeling much more serious now that their laughter had died down. “Truth or dare, Cassian?”

“Dare,” he said back. He moved her a little closer with his leg and she was so tempted to run her fingers through his hair. Or to bury her face in his chest.

Nesta was feeling bolder than she’d ever felt before when it came to him, but that was mostly thanks to the tequila. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Cassian stared at her for what felt like too long and she wondered whether she’d crossed a line. He was her best friend, and if she was wrong, she didn’t want things to be weird. What if he’d never thought about her in that way? She supposed she could blame it on being drunk, but she wasn’t drunk enough for it to be convincing. What if—

The thoughts in her head completely emptied out as she realized he was kissing her, his lips soft and warm and tasting of tequila against her own. She kissed him back hungrily and realized maybe he hadn’t seen her as just a friend like she’d assumed after all.

[forthegothicheroine]

The King in Yellow, 1949

Much of this story is true.  Warnings in the tags.

When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery.  Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white.  I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King.  I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images.  I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.)  It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.)  But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them.  Google was no help, and at the time that was that.

I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house.  I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.)  I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon.  Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky.  I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant.  I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway.  Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment.  I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.

Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone.  Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody.  Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.

The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else.  If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it.  Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.

I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college.  I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest.  The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link.  Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.

The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards.  They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???”  (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.)  When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.

Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches.  Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively.  Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find.  The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.

The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits.  Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on.  Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano.  Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory.  Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes.  Is she mourning?  Is she longing?

Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King!  Not on us!”  She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.

Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz.  The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color.  The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips.  It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits.  The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others.  It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.

Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance.  Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask.  The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask.  Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged.  As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd.  I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint.  Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.  

By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock.  It does not hide her for long.  The King steps towards her and extends his hand.  Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand.  They walk away together hand in hand.  The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene.  The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.

As I said, that’s what I think I understand.  It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd.  I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true.  It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste.  I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent.  Naturally, no subscription site has it available.  Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it.  Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.

When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.)  I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night.  It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks.  I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.

I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco.  I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents.  I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month.  I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other.  I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means.  I don’t mind the nightmares.  In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it.  I’m being mindful.  I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head.  I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.

Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it.  My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.

When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness.  I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again.  I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive.  The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze.  It sings to me.

I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it.  During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.