#so i think i'm sticking with that for now
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CHOIR NERDS, YOU ARE MY PEOPLE AND I LOVE YOU.
So, I'm going to put this here, because it's something I've been thinking about for a while and burbling at anybody who gives me an excuse. As someone who has been making music for almost 50 years and who has a daily meditative practice, has done the silent-meditation retreat thing, et cetera: Group music-making, and especially group singing, is the great unappreciated Western mindfulness tradition.
First, it is the embodiment of "return over and over to the breath." Singing uses muscles and anatomical structures you cannot see to manipulate processes that are somewhere between involuntary and so fundamental that you otherwise never think about them, in order turn respiration into sound. Specific sound, shaped into linguistic units and desired pitches. Through practice you can make this process easier to sustain, but it never stops requiring your attention. Breathe in; exhale music, on purpose; repeat.
Second, if you're doing it in a group, it demands your full attention to the moment. You are part of a larger unit, and you have a plan, and for the music to achieve the effect you want you have to stick to the plan, constantly, until you are done. And that means staying right here, right now. If you make a mistake, you can't dwell on it, lovingly wrapping yourself in your regrets and your self-blame, because if you do you'll be like a hurdler who, having struck a hurdle, continues to stumble into obstacle after obstacle until he falls bloody to the track. You have to let it go and get back into the groove. And for the same reason, you can't let your attention wander too far into the future. There is only now. This is mindfullness: Set your intention and then do that and only that, on purpose, until you are done.
And the results may be the Brahms Requiem or a college glee club doing 1920s fight songs or a bunch of random New Yorkers doing eight-part Chappell Roan, but they are always fucking magical.
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David Gaider on Dorian, under a cut for length:
"Now this is a fun one. It's no big secret I have a lot of feelings about Dorian, not least of which because he was my first (and only) gay male companion. There's a lot more to him than that, of course (as there should be), and it was quite a trip. So let's go! Now, DAI is a story all its own, but I'm sticking to the characters. In this case, back at the beginning, the writers were going to try something new: we were going to let the artists take a more active role in the companion creation process. Why? Because not doing so had caused a lot of problems. See, here's the thing: writers and artists speak two different languages. When talking about characters, we talk about their story. Who they are. What they want. We'd write up these briefs, huge and full of information... but it was never the information the artists needed. They wanted visual cues. I don't mean describing their appearance. Sure, we'd usually provide that, especially if there was a story case to be made, but often the artists vetoed us on appearance stuff anyhow so meh. No, I mean they looked for visual language while we tended to only talk about who the characters *were*. What would happen is they'd hone in on something visual in our write-up not intended to be a focus. The first write-up for Anders in DA2, for instance, mentioned he was "haggard" after his journey... and the first concept we got was this pale, shriveled man. "What... is this?" "YOU SAID HAGGARD!" 😅"
"That was the other trick: sometimes when we DID try to be more descriptive, we had to be extra cautious because the words could be interpreted very differently. You encounter this recording VO, too. A VO note says "hysterical" and you *meant* "really upset" but the actor read "scream like a banshee" Thus this caused problems, like I said. The artists would struggle, sometimes conjuring details just to give the character *something* but which would change the character... and, to us, the character was created. Done. We were already invested, probably already writing them. Something had to give. So this time we wrote a bunch of character briefs - but short. One paragraph. We stuck to vibes and the *emotions* we wanted the concepts to evoke. And we didn't name them. They got titles like "Slick Con Man" or "Ice Queen", so we wouldn't get too attached. Then we handed these off to the artists. And it worked nicely. The ones that just weren't inspiring we'd discard, no problem. The others had juice... and the artists felt free to play and offer lots of variations because we weren't set on anything yet. A lot of times, what they produced ended up inspiring US. It was a neat back-and-forth."
"This is what led to Dorian, in fact. He came from a short write-up entitled "Rock Star Mage" and it really boiled down to "I'm cool and I know I'm cool, so take that you cretins". And just like that, the first sketches (by Casper Konefal, I think? I bet I'm wrong) were all amazing. Instant fire. Me: "He looks kind of like... Freddie Mercury?" Him: "Is that bad?" Me: "NO ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS AMAZING" Plus there was a monkey. Sadly, we had to lose the monkey. There were iterations to come, but this was really where Dorian was born: Tevinter mage, noble, savant, and too cool for school."
"When did he become gay? Not right away. Like I said elsewhere, we didn't talk romance and sexuality until after the concepts were more in place. But as we were brainstorming about why this hot shot mage left Tevinter, the idea DID come up that maybe it was because he was gay. Not directly, however. Homophobia isn't really a thing in Thedas, after all, so at first blush I didn't think that could work. "Rich kid gets kicked out of the house for being gay" wasn't a trope I wanted to explore. But, then again, magister families in Tevinter are *obsessed* with the appearance of perfection, so...? Any deviation from the "norm" is considered scandal-worthy. It said weakness. It said you couldn't control your house. Now... THAT had real promise. The writing pit discussed it a lot. So I think it's fair to say that the gay fairy was already circling Dorian even before we got to the romance talk. I think it's also fair to say that the rest of the team realized I low-key wanted to write him, because when everyone started calling dibs, who was left standing for me? (I pick last, remember.) I gleefully snatched him up and got to work... ...about six months later. I was very busy at the time. 😅 That late start meant I had to design and write VERY quickly. And I did. Somehow, though, this one... it came easily. "Catty gay man" isn't digging very deep, no surprise to anyone who knows me, and it had an extra layer of being so fun because Dorian was confident. He sparred verbally. I loved it."
"There was more to it, however. The conflict between Dorian and his father... ugh, how do I say this? Let's be clear: Dorian's story is not MY story, but it's also not far off. I wrote the entire confrontation scene in one go. After I was done, I probably cried harder than I ever have in my life. 🫠 I was unsure whether it was any good, however. I just didn't feel objective. I passed it over to Cori May - my friend but also Dorian's editor - and asked her to please tell me and be honest. She read it. She walked into my office after, tears streaming down her face, and just nodded. "It's good." Here's the thing. Not everyone is going to agree with this, but: I don't think a writer NEEDS to be a minority in order to write a minority. Sometimes those characters should simply exist, and we want them to. But if that character's story is ABOUT their experience as a minority? That's different. Dorian's story didn't need to revolve around his sexuality - and, honestly, it only did so as a tangent to his family issue, but they're so bound together it's probably irrelevant to split them - but my writing him meant it could be. It allowed me to SAY something. That felt good. It felt right. Ramon Tikaram came on board after a lengthy casting process (so many British Indian accents, oh god). I sat in on a few recording sessions... the confrontation scene, though? Ramon: *says line* Me: (curled up on a nearby sofa in fetal position) *shaky thumbs up* Caroline: "Yep. Great work, Ramon!""
"Dorian's sexuality isn't all he's about, but that's certainly how some viewed it. When the character was announced in 2014, his being gay was mentioned as the last of a number of points, and the instant response from some gamers was to act as if we'd called a press conference just to say THAT. 🙄 It was annoying. Still is. Overall, however, the reaction to Dorian was very positive. The number of straight men who said they romanced him still pleases me. The number of fans who privately contacted me who'd been through conversion therapy, some who said Dorian helped them survive? Well. Gosh. 😭 I did write him for Trespasser - though I hear that a late scope cut meant every conversation had been chopped by 1/3rd or more, and that meant a lot of nuance lost. Which is sad, if true, because it sounds like the result of that left some Dorian romancers a bit cold. Such is how game dev rolls. 😔 If you need more proof of how it was hard for me to let go of him, a short story I wrote after Trespasser came out where Dorian has a bit of closure with his dead father: medium.com/@davidgaider... So yeah. He'll always be my boi. And I'll always be thankful Bio gave me this opportunity. ❤️"
[source thread]
User: "I'm not going to lie, it's hard to take my mind off Dorian almost having a monkey." David Gaider: "If by “almost” you mean there was a picture of a monkey that the concept artist put there as a whim, and which would almost certainly have taken more cinematics and modeling time to put in than we could ever afford… then yes. 😉" [source]
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Hello! Is it okay if you can write mouthwashing headcannons of how the crew members would react to the reader randomly attacking them with kisses? If you want to stick with one person, then I was thinking, Anya? (If you want someone else, then that's okay too!)
Have a great day/afternoon/night
tulpar crew x gn!reader
smooch attack headcanons.
⚠️ pushy jimmy. everything else is chill. not proof read.
[note: sorry I've been out for long everyone! I had some stuff come up but I'm doing some progress on the things you guys send! I hope you enjoy these imagines]
[ Anya ]
🟦 giggling mess if done right
🟦 if you do it, please don't jump her.
🟦 sth like swooping in first before kissing her. small signals that it's you.
Her eyes were glued onto the shelf, searching for that one book she needed. It was usually there. Did I misplace it?
Her thoughts were immediately silenced by a hand taking hers, swift yet carefully. Her body tensed up by instinct but when she realized it was you, it had her giggling as you planted soft kisses on her knuckles. You raise the book that you hid from your back while you entered.
"Sorry! I was reading it earlier."
"I don't mind at all, don't worry."
Anya shakes her head with a smile and cups your cheek and you beam. That was one of the small signals she gave that says she's fine with this. She brushes your cheek for a moment as you lean in to her touch, then you feel her carefully tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. You immediately wrap your arms around her waist and lean in for a kiss- kisses. Lots of them. You start off on her cheek, then her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, then a peck to her lips and she was softly laughing the whole time, both from the affection and how ticklish it was.
[ Curly ]
🩹 Not a fan of PDA either. you gotta do it when you both get privacy.
🩹 So you do it with every chance you get.
You spot Jimmy lingering back at the lounge without your beloved Captain? You're beelining towards the cockpit.
Alone in the kitchen? You're on him.
Hallways? Oh, Captai—in!
Even if he scolds and chastises you for it, he loves it. He does the same anyways. One time though, you were both in the lounge reading together when you eventually got bored. You peek at your partner who was heavily invested at the article when suddenly the item gets pushed away and replaced by you on his lap. Before he could even warn you, you grabbed his face and showered him with kisses. Curly gives in and hugs you, it should be alright since no one's here, right? He'll let it slide for now.
When you part, he had a stupid grin on his face.
"Darling, have I ever taught you how to aim?"
With a chuckle, you shake your head and you both lean in for a kiss.
"How does a lesson tonight in your quarters sound, Captain?"
"Perhaps we could reschedule for an earlier time. How does right now sound?"
"Perfect."
[ Daisuke ]
🌺 Usually, it's him who does the guerilla attacks. It's a little game you guys play. The more of a surprise kiss streak you have, the better.
🌺 So far he's on the lead, but not for long.
You had to borrow Anya's lipstick for this. Carefully planned this siege (it only took like 10 minutes). Daisuke had just finished doing inventory, Swansea's back in utility and you're by the storage closet by the hallway and you hear familiar footsteps. In approximately 5.0224 seconds, your target is going to pass by the said storage room aka your location right now. You brace for it, nervous. You push your doubts that it was another person for now and just go for it.
Slamming your partner onto the wall as he squeals, you shut the door and yank on the string to turn the light on. It was dim but you could see the look on his face and you burst out laughing.
"Dude, I thought we had some psycho hiding up in here! I thought I was gonna die!"
"Yeah, you will."
"Fuck you mean by tha— mpFfF?!"
Your lips smash against his and you could tell some of the lipstick smeared. His awkward tense pose loosens up and his hands move away from the walls to your hips as he returns it and you part as he tries not to chase after you.
"Got ya' good, huh?"
"Whaaaaat?" He drawls out with a voice crack, looking away. "I don't know man, you gotta do that again so we can find out." With a pffsh, you start kissing him everywhere, his beauty marks, his lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, probably even on his collar.
Next thing you know, you both pop out the storage room, Swansea looking like he almost had a heart attack while he stares at the both of you in judgement.
Daisuke had a lovestruck expression while his face, neck, and shirt collars were filled with lipstick marks and yours were smudged on your lips.
[ Jimmy ]
🔪 he hates it. he likes it so much he hates it.
🔪 prefers doing it himself though.
Shitty day as always. He wasn't in the mood and he can't bother you which made his day a whole lot worse. It's stupid, why was he so dependent over your attention. It should be the other way around.
Once you were done with your shift, you decided to find the co-pilot. At his usual thinking spot, chewing on a toothpick.
God, he needs his nicotine.
You were silent, only walking towards his way, too busy with his thoughts to even notice you. Not until you plant a kiss on his cheek and his head whips to your direction, almost bumping heads. You smile and peck his lips this time.
"You okay?"
Were you pitying him?
"Fuckin' peachy."
Suddenly, you were pressed up against the wall, caged in-between his arms and you look up at him confused. He flicks the toothpick somewhere and he starts peppering your face with kisses. It was all soft at first, not until he nips at your lip before kissing you roughly. Your lips would probably bruise later on.
[ Swansea ]
Wake rock was softly playing in the background.
🦢 this can be interpreted as romantic/familial honestly
🦢 he seems annoyed by it but in reality he thinks it's sweet. never admitting it though.
You were busy cleaning up in the utility room while Swansea was repairing some wires when he suddenly flinches and cusses loudly, shaking his hand. He got grounded. Now he's grumbling over where Daisuke was when he needed him to do the work. Probably needed to release his frustrations elsewhere by light-heartedly shit talking his intern. You knew he didn't mean it.
Tilting your head curiously, you moved closer, peeking over his shoulder to watch him work for a moment. And just when he moves his hands away from the box, you hug him from the side and kiss his cheek repeatedly.
"Jesus! Warn a man will ya'?!"
"I'm done cleaning! I'll go on break now, boss!"
"Yeah, yeah." He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he had a small smile on his face as he continued working. Seriously, who does this to their mentor?
Kids these days.
#anya#curly#daisuke#jimmy#swansea#anya mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#anya x reader#daisuke x reader#curly x reader#jimmy x reader#swansea x reader#tulpar crew x reader#tulpar crew#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader
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Naiome peacefully swept the floor of her small shack, humming a tune to herself. Her familiar lounged a pile of books bathed in sunlight, enjoying the warmth. It seemed like a lovely, ordinary day for the infamous witch of the Shadowfang Valley.
Something large flew overhead, blocking the sunlight. Her familiar meowed loudly in discontent and Naiome looked outside to see what could possibly be bothering her today. The shadow was being cast by a dragon, slowly circling overhead and clearly looking for a place to land. She frowned and checked the protection runes around her home. What did those overgrown lizards want with her now?
When the dragon landed outside her home, she stormed outside with her broom. "I told ya winged flamethrowers before, I'm done casting duplication spells on your hoards! Get out of here! Go on, git!" She waved her broom around, threatening the beast.
"Um, no. I'm not here for that. Are you the witch of the Shadowfang Valley?" The dragon asked, surprisingly politely.
"Well I'm a witch and I'm in the Shadowfang Valley, you can connect the dots yourself. What do you want?"
"Um, well, I think you cursed me on accident," the dragon said, shifting her wait anxiously from talon to talon. "My name is Maveth, and in the middle of my wedding I just turned into this and was chased out of town. I was told you were the only witch powerful enough to do something like this, so I came here."
"Well, you got that part right. I am the most powerful witch in the region, and I did do this. Your parents kicked me out of your christening, so I cursed you to transform into a beast on the night of your 15th birthday. I mean, sorry you got caught in the crossfire, but your parents are dicks."
The dragon blinked at her in confusion. "Im... not fifteen, nor was yesterday my birthday. And I never had a christening."
Now it was Naiome's turn to be confused. "Wait, you said your name was Maveth?"
"Yes."
The realization hit her. "Oh no. You have the same name as the princess, and I must have cursed you on accident instead of her."
"Oh, that makes sense," Maveth laughed.
"I am deeply sorry for this mixup. I can have you back to normal within the hour!" She turned to walk back in her hut.
"Wait! I didn't come here to get turned back. I came here to thank you!"
Naiome stopped and stared at her in confusion. "What?"
"Like I said before, I transformed during my wedding. The thing is, it was an arranged marriage between me and this duke that was twice my age. I hated him but my parents forced me to marry him for his wealth and power. But before we could say our vows, I transformed into this. He can't marry a dragon, so I'm free from him and my parents expectations."
Naiome thought about this for a moment. "Well, I'm pleased to see this mixup had a positive effect. Now if you don't mind, could you please give me a ride to the palace? I want to make sure my curse sticks to the right person this time."
A witch found out to her horror that she had somehow cursed the wrong person. Expecting retribution when the victim came knocking at her doorstep, she was surprised to find them rather pleased with the curse's effects.
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When the only person who might understand what happened- understand. Not sympathize or empathize or comfort you but understand what happened, isn't there anymore. Or: 'A Man Made Me Do Something I Didn't Want To', for when you can't talk about it or look it in the eye [Patreon | Commissions]
#Tuvok#Kes#comix#idk how to tag this bc of the allusion#st voy#star trek voyager#bea art tag#comix page#star trek#this is not a one to one allegory nor is it meant to be - I am specifically focusing in on the loss of bodily autonomy that occurs when#Kes and Tuvok have their bodies taken over purposefully by men for various reasons which all boil to power. 'Because I could' and Because#they thought Kes or Tuvok wouldn't be able to stop them from doing so. Because they thought they had the power to do so so why wouldn't#they? But again this is not one to one - I interpret and will continue to interpret these instances in many different ways#But something that sticks with me in canon is how 'impervious' Tuvok is made - There is that scene at the end of Warlord which#shows that Kes is affected by what just happened to her - she's confused and hurt and doesn't know what to DO now that the in-the-moment#fight is over and it's time to just keep living and Tuvok comforts her but when he will go on to be taken over again and again and again#there will be no one to comfort him - no one HE can go to - and the narrative doesn't say that there should be. Even when he's#taken over by the BORG (an experience which had a lasting traumatic impact on characters like Seven or Picard - granted they were connected#for a lot longer) this is only mentioned offhandedly. One wonders why it occured at all. There's also how the other two main Vulcans#T'Pol and Spock - when they are forced to act emotionally or are in situations that affect their emotional equilibrium there is a big deal#made about it and they are hurt and ashamed and given some degree of care and comfort by those around them but when Tuvok#is forced into similar situations it is simply assumed he'll get over it - not even just by the other characters but the narrative itself#takes it for granted Ex: 'Workforce' where he forgets ALL his Vulcan training or 'Meld' where Suder's influence#unintentionally makes him lose it and try to kill him...THOUGH I think Suder hugging an unconscious Tuvok is perhaps the closest we get to#someone comforting Tuvok after he's been through that sort of ordeal. I'm not saying Tuvok would WANT others to be hugging him#and offering him emotional comfort etc (he's Vulcan) but I find it interesting that the narrative assumes that the black body (even alien)#is more 'durable' than its white counterparts. 'Stronger'. Assumes that there is no interiority which recoils and sustains the damage#when hurt. That there is nothing worth exploring because there is no impact from the impact. A crater lands and the Soil beneath it is#untouched
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Everything is Blue
Barty Crouch Jr x FWB!Potter!Reader
AN: Are we really surprised? They are all I think about.
Summary: As things escalate with Barty he draws a line in the sand.
CW: Not proof read wrote this on my lunch break sorry yall :(, oxic!Mean!Barty, Toxic!Mean!Reader, Cussing, sexual themes and behaviors, Hair Pulling, rough handling, angsty, hurt no comfort, everyone's the bad guy, Remus being dragged into it (because I'm predictable), {If I'm missing anything please let me know}
WC: 4.9k
The door to Barty’s dorm scraped open with its usual obnoxious grind, the result of a half-hearted transfiguration after a particularly chaotic night. It was too big for the frame, but no one cared enough to fix it. Least of all Barty.
He tossed his satchel to the floor as he stepped inside, a cigarette already between his fingers. The other boys in the room froze for half a second before scattering like startled mice, clearly unwilling to stick around now that they’d heard your voice trailing in behind him.
“I just wish you wouldn’t talk about Remus like that,” You huffed, brushing past the discarded bag without a second glance. There was a sharpness to your tone, even as you moved to sit on Barty’s unmade bed. Arms crossed, you looked every bit the picture of stubborn indignation. “He’s a sweetheart if you’d give him a chance.”
Barty let out a low chuckle, crouching to strike a match against the ruined floorboards. He lit the cigarette with ease, shaking out the flame before tossing the spent match to the carpet and grinding it under his heel. “Hate to break it to you, treasure, but your dear Lupin’s just as bad as the rest of them. Just like your jock of a brother.”
You scoffed, a bitter sound that came with a roll of your eyes. “Jock? Oh, please. And you’re not? Beater.”
He barked out a laugh, straightening as he took a drag. “Touché,” He chuckled, exhaling smoke through the corner of his mouth. “But no need to get your claws out, pretty thing.”
“Don’t call me that,” You snapped, though there was no real heat behind it. You shifted, ready to get up, but Barty stepped closer, his grin growing sharper. Before you could fully stand, his hand pressed firmly against your shoulder, easing you back down.
“Not so fast.” He murmured, cigarette dangling between his teeth. His free hand brushed through your hair, a casual, practiced move that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. “All I’m saying, doll, is your precious Remus isn’t as innocent as you think.”
Your jaw clenched, and you glared up at him, determined not to let him see how easily he got under your skin. But it was impossible to ignore the way his touch lingered, the quiet dominance in the way he stood over you.
It was a cliche if anything; James Potter’s prim, polished sister sneaking off with the resident Ravenclaw bad boy. But whatever this was, it wasn’t romance. Not even close. It was something raw and messy, simmering with tension, much less control. And no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you didn’t hate it.
Suddenly, his grip on your hair tightened at the roots, the sharp tug forcing your head back and drawing a startled gasp from your lips. “Oh, but he does love putting on a show for you, doesn’t he?” Barty’s voice was low, taunting, his words dripping with mockery as he loomed over you.
The sting at your scalp sent a flush of heat coursing through you; equal parts anger and something more complicated. His gaze flicked to your neck, lingering on the faint marks still visible beneath the clumsy glamour spell you’d used to cover his handiwork. His lips curved into a smirk, satisfaction radiating from him as if he’d already won some unspoken battle.
“You’re so predictable,” He cooed, tilting his head as if examining a puzzle only he could solve. His grip loosened slightly, just enough to let his fingers glide through your hair, but the dominance in his posture didn’t waver. “Tell me, doll face, how long are you going to keep pretending this doesn’t amuse you?”
You swallowed hard, your pride demanding that you glare back at him with every ounce of defiance you could muster. But beneath the tension, you both knew the truth- you were caught in his game, no matter how much you hated the rules.
Barty’s grip slackened, his fingers moving from your hair to cradle the curve of your jaw, but the smug glint in his eyes remained. His cigarette hung precariously from his lips, the smoke curling between you in a way that made the air feel heavier. He tipped your face up, tilting his head as he studied you, his smirk growing sharper when you refused to look away.
“Still playing the good girl, huh?” He chuckled, voice low and mocking as his thumb traced the edge of your cheekbone. “It’s cute, really. But I've seen too much of you to fall for it. You want this.”
“Shut up, Barty.” You snapped, the defiance in your tone wavering just enough to make him laugh- a deep, infuriating sound that made your stomach churn. He took the cigarette from his lips, flicking the ash carelessly onto the floor before tossing it into a forgotten corner of the room.
“Make me.” He challenged.
Before you could overthink it, your hands shot up, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to crash his lips against yours. The kiss was rough, almost frantic, and any pretense of control he had disappeared the moment your nails dragged down his chest. His hands gripped your waist, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise as he pulled you closer, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made your breath hitch.
The kiss grew heated, messy, both of you lost in the intensity that always seemed to ignite when you were near each other. Barty's hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. For a moment, you forgot where you were, forgot the smugness that usually dripped from his every word. It was all consuming, fire and chaos in equal measure.
But then his lips trailed to the corner of your mouth, brushing there as he murmured against your skin. “Tell me, doll face, does Lupin get you like this? Or are you saving all the fun just for me?”
The words were like a slap. You shoved at his chest, hard enough to break the kiss, your eyes blazing with anger. “Are you serious right now? Merlin, Barty, you’re insufferable!”
He stumbled back a step, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly unbothered by your sudden shift. “What? Too close to home?” He taunted, his smirk sharp and infuriating. “Or are you upset because you know I’m right?”
You glared at him, your chest heaving as you tried to rein in your temper. “Right about what? You don’t know a damn thing about me, or about Remus!”
“Oh, I know plenty,” He shot back, his voice dropping to something dark, something mocking. He stepped closer again, his presence overwhelming. “I know you like the bad boys more than you’d ever admit. Your precious Lupin? He’s got that little edge you love, doesn’t he? But me-” He grinned, shameless and cocky, as his hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m the one who gives you this rush, doll. I see it every time you look at me.”
“Shut up,” You snapped, your voice trembling with anger. “You’re so full of yourself, Barty.”
“Am I?” He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied you. “Then why are you still here, hmm? Why not run back to your safe little Gryffindor bubble if I’m so insufferable?”
You opened your mouth to fire back, but nothing came. He was right- damn him, he was right and he knew it. The realization made your skin burn, and the frustration bubbled over.
“Because I hate you,” You spat, though the words sounded hollow, even to your own ears.
Barty’s grin widened, and his hand trailed down your arm, his touch infuriatingly light. “Oh, doll, we both know that’s not true,” He murmured. “You might hate that you want me, but you don’t hate me.”
You clenched your jaw, every muscle in your body screaming at you to storm out of the room. But his hand slid to your hip, grounding you, pulling you back into his orbit. You hated the way his presence made you feel- like you were caught in a web you couldn’t escape.
“Why are you like this?” You hissed, your voice cracking slightly as you met his gaze.
His expression softened for just a moment, the teasing edge fading as he studied you. “Because it’s you,” He said simply, his voice quiet but no less intense. “And because I know you can take it.”
That quiet admission threw you off, and for a second, you faltered. He took the opportunity to lean in again, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Go on, doll face,” He murmured. “Tell me to stop.”
You didn’t. And before you could stop yourself, you were pulling him back to you, your anger bleeding into something just as fiery but far more dangerous.
Barty’s laugh rumbled against your lips, low and triumphant, his hands roamed your back, his touch both grounding and maddening. The kiss deepened again, the tension between you still sharp but now laced with something rawer.
But the moment was far from stable. Barty was never one to let things settle; it wasn’t in his nature. Even now, as his lips pressed against yours with an intensity that should have silenced his need for words, he pulled back just enough to murmur, “You’re addictive, you know that? Bet it drives Lupin mad.”
The mention of Remus again broke whatever fragile truce the kiss had created. Your fingers, which had been gripping the fabric of his shirt, pushed him back with force, your glare sharp enough to cut. “You can’t just keep bringing him up like that, Barty!”
“What, does it hit a nerve?” He shot back, his smirk creeping back into place as he took a step closer. He was relentless, infuriating, the kind of person who thrived on lighting matches just to watch the fire burn. “Or maybe it’s because you don’t want to admit I’m in your head more than he ever will be.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” You snapped, your voice trembling with anger. “You’re nothing but a distraction, a-”
“Go on.” He interrupted, his voice low, his eyes gleaming with something almost dangerous. “Say it. A mistake? A regret? Is that why you keep coming back, doll? To fix it, or just to lose yourself in it?”
His words hit too close, cutting through your defenses in a way that made your chest tighten. You hated how easily he could read you, how effortlessly he picked apart the walls you tried so hard to keep in place. But you refused to let him win, refused to let him see how much his words affected you. You hated him.
“Maybe I’m here because I pity you.” You hissed coldly, lifting your chin in defiance. “Isn’t that why everyone keeps you around, Barty? Out of pity?”
For a moment, his smirk faltered, the sharpness in his eyes flickering into something unreadable. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that infuriating grin as he stepped even closer, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive force. “Careful, doll.” He mumbled, his voice soft but laced with warning. “You might just hurt my feelings.”
You rolled your eyes, but your breath hitched as his fingers slid up your sides, his touch tight with nerve. “You don’t have feelings, remember?” You shot back, but the bite in your words was weakened by the way your body reacted to his closeness.
“Maybe not,” He admitted with a low chuckle, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you seem to like me anyway. Guess we both have our vices.”
Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, silencing whatever retort you had ready. The kiss was more intense this time, fueled by the anger and frustration that always seemed to simmer between you. His hands tangled in your hair, his body pressing against yours in a way that made it impossible to think clearly.
It was a cycle, a maddening, relentless cycle. Fight, kiss, argue, repeat. You knew it was toxic, knew it couldn’t lead anywhere good. But in that moment, with Barty’s lips on yours and his hands holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
As the kiss deepened, the anger began to ebb away, replaced by a heat that you both refused to name. Barty’s hands tightened in your hair, his lips moving with an almost desperate energy that mirrored your own. But beneath the passion, there was something lingering, something raw that you couldn’t quite place.
And then he did it again.
“Bet he wished he could touch you like this,” Barty murmured against your lips, his voice low and taunting. His words sent a shiver through you- not from the tease, but from the edge in his tone. “Your precious Remus. Always so bloody polite, isn’t he?”
You froze, your hands stilling against his chest as the realization began to settle like a weight in your stomach. His words weren’t just meant to provoke you; there was something behind them, something that bordered on venom.
Pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, you searched his face for a hint of the usual smugness that accompanied his taunts. But instead, you found something different; something sharp and defensive, hidden beneath the surface. “Why do you keep bringing him up?” You asked quietly, your voice steadier than you expected.
Barty’s smirk faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before he masked it with a scoff. “What, can’t handle the truth?” He shot back, his tone casual, but his grip on your hips betrayed him. It was firmer now, certainly possessive.
You narrowed your eyes, the pieces clicking into place. “This isn’t about Remus, is it?” You whispered, your voice softening slightly. “This is about you.”
Barty’s expression hardened, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t flatter yourself,” the edge in his tone wavered. “I just think it’s funny. You play the good girl for him, but you come running to me when you want to feel something real.”
“That’s not it, and you know it.” You hissed, your words cutting through his defenses. “You’re jealous.”
The word hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. Barty’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something that looked a lot like anger- but you could see through it now. It wasn’t anger. It was insecurity.
“You think I care about what some bleeding-heart Gryffindor thinks?” He sneered, but his voice cracked slightly, giving him away.
“I think you do,” You said, your voice steady now. “You hate that he’s not like you. That he doesn’t play games, that he’s kind. He's real. And you hate that I see that in him.”
Barty’s grip on you tightened, surely bruising, his breath hitching as you spoke. “Don’t.” He warned, but it was too late. You’d already struck a nerve.
“You’re scared.” You continued, your gaze locked with his. “Scared that he’s better than you. That maybe- he’s what I deserve.”
For a moment, you thought he might push you away, his usual bravado crumbling under the weight of your words. But instead, he surged forward, his lips crashing against yours with a ferocity that stole your breath. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a fight, a desperate attempt to reclaim control, to prove something to both of you.
When Barty finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. But the vulnerability that had flickered in his expression for a split second was gone, replaced with sharp, cutting arrogance. His grip on your waist was still firm, bordering on bruising, as if he were daring you to push him away again.
“You think he’s better than me, don’t you?” Barty murmured, his voice low but laced with venom. “Remus bloody Lupin- he’s exactly the kind of boy your perfect family wants for you, isn’t he? Polite, patient, so painfully good.” His lips curled into a sneer, the mockery in his tone unmistakable. “Bet he’d even ask for daddy’s permission to kiss you.”
You flinched, your jaw tightening as the words hit their mark. “Don’t bring my family into this,” You hissed, your hands pushing against his chest, but he didn’t budge.
“Why not?” Barty pressed, his eyes gleaming with something almost wild. “This is what it’s all about, isn’t it? You sneaking around with me because I’m the opposite of what they want. Because I’m the dirty little secret you can’t bring home.”
“That’s not true.” You snapped, though your voice lacked conviction. Deep down, you hated that he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“No?” Barty’s smirk widened, his hands sliding up your sides with infuriating ease. “Face it, doll, Lupin’s everything they’ve trained you to want. He’s safe. Predictable. Boring.” He leaned closer, if he only knew- his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped to a whisper. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”
You turned your head sharply, forcing him to meet your glare. “You don’t know what I want.”
“Oh, I do,” He murmured, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a way that made your stomach churn. “You want the thrill. The danger. Someone who doesn’t care what James Potter or the rest of your Gryffindor crew thinks.”
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how his words stung. “You think this is about rebellion?” Uou shot back, your voice trembling with both anger and frustration. “That I’m with you because I want to piss off my family?”
Barty tilted his head, his grin lazy and infuriating. “If the shoe fits.”
“Maybe I’m here because I see something in you no one else does.” You bit out, your voice sharper now. “But you’re too busy tearing yourself down to notice.”
For a moment, Barty faltered. His smirk wavered, and the confidence in his posture cracked just enough for you to see the insecurity underneath. But he recovered quickly, his walls slamming back into place as he gave a low, bitter laugh.
“Don’t waste your sympathy on me, princess,” He cooed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t need it. And I definitely don’t need saving.”
“I’m not trying to save you,” You sighed, your voice soft but firm. “But you keep pushing everyone away, and one day, you’ll push too hard.”
Barty’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he leaned in again. “And yet, here you are,” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “Still coming back for more.”
Your throat tightened, the anger in your chest swirling with something far more dangerous. His words cut, his arrogance infuriated you- but you couldn’t deny the pull between you. And Barty knew it.
“Admit it,” He said, his voice soft but unrelenting. “I’m the one who gets under your skin. Not Lupin. Not anyone else. Me.”
You stared at him for a moment, and you saw it. The slight gloss to his eyes- he was pushing himself. Past what you've ever thought you'd see from him. You closed your eyes and took a small steadying breath. “Yes, you idiot.” You spat. “It's you.”
Barty froze. The smirk he wore like a second skin faltered, his sharp retort catching somewhere in his throat. For a moment, he just stared at you, as if he hadn’t expected you to admit it- hadn’t expected you to say anything at all.
And neither had you.
The words hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You could feel the weight of them pressing down on your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Barty didn’t have a comeback ready. His grip on your hips slackened, and his expression shifted, the arrogance slipping to reveal something far more raw.
“Say that again,” He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a challenge there, but beneath it, you heard the hesitation- the flicker of uncertainty he was trying so hard to hide.
You swallowed hard, your breath still unsteady as you met his gaze. “It’s you,” You repeated, quieter this time but no less firm. “You’re the one who gets under my skin. And I hate it.”
Something in his eyes darkened, a mix of triumph and something he didn’t quite know how to handle. His lips quirked up into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You really know how to flatter a bloke, don’t you?” He drawled, though his voice was softer now, lacking its usual bite.
“Don’t,” You snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface again. “Don’t twist this into some stupid game, Barty.”
“Isn’t it always a game?” He shot back, his smirk widening, though there was an edge to it now- one that betrayed just how deeply your words had cut. “You and me, sneaking around, pretending like it doesn’t mean anything. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
“No,” You said firmly, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself- or maybe to keep him from pulling away. “That’s your point. It’s never been mine.”
He stared at you, his jaw tight, his breathing still heavy. For once, he seemed at a loss, his usual cocky bravado slipping as he tried to process what you’d just said. And for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat into the safety of his defenses. But instead, he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours.
“You drive me mad, you know that?” He muttered, his voice low and raw, lacking its usual teasing lilt.
“Good,” You huffed, your voice equally soft but no less sharp. “It’s mutual.”
A quiet laugh escaped him, almost disbelieving, and he shook his head slightly. “Why do you keep coming back, then?” He asked, his tone laced with something that sounded almost like desperation. “If you hate me so much?”
“Maybe because I hate that I don’t hate you,” You admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Maybe because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile.”
For a moment, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air. Barty’s expression wavered, and you thought- just for a second- that he might let the truth settle between you. That he might lean into it, lean into you, and let himself admit that he felt the same pull you did.
Barty stood completely still, his eyes searching yours, his defenses cracking just enough for something real to shine through. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the vulnerability vanished, his smirk snapping back into place like a mask he wore far too well.
“Don't-”
“Merlin.” He muttered, stepping back, running a hand through his hair in an exaggerated motion of mock exasperation. “You’re really determined to make this into some grand love story, aren’t you?”
“Barty,” You started, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice, but he was already shaking his head, the teasing glint in his eyes turning sharper, crueler. He sat up off of you, pulling out a cigarette, you followed him up.
“No, seriously,” He interrupted, his tone light and biting, the edge of mockery unmistakable. “What is it you want, huh? A confession? A bloody sonnet? Should I get down on one knee while I’m at it?”
“Stop it,” You said sharply, stepping forward, but he just leaned casually against the wall, his cigarette dangling from his lips as though nothing you said could touch him.
“Why? Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asked, spreading his arms wide with a grin that was far too sharp to be genuine. “I mean, you’ve got me cornered, haven’t you? Time for me to spill my tragic backstory and tell you how you’ve ‘changed’ me. Is that it? Does that get you off, doll?”
You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep your composure. “Why are you doing this?” You demanded, your voice trembling with frustration. “Why can’t you just be serious for once?”
“Oh, I am serious,” Barty said, his grin fading into something colder, more calculated. He straightened up, his posture lazy but his eyes sharp as they locked on yours. “I’m seriously wondering why you’re still here.”
The words hit you, a blow to the chest, but you refused to flinch. “You’re pushing me away,” you said, your voice quieter now, but no less steady. “That’s what this is. You’re scared, so you’re trying to scare me off first.”
“Scared?” Barty repeated, letting out a short, bitter laugh. “Of what? You? Don’t flatter yourself, doll.”
“Then what is this?” You demanded, your frustration boiling over. “Why can’t you just admit that this- us- means something to you?”
“Because it doesn’t,” He snapped, his tone ice-cold. He stepped closer, his smirk twisting into something cruel as he looked down at you. “You’re just a game, sweetheart. A fun little distraction. And now that the fun’s over…” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over you with a deliberate slowness that made your stomach churn. “Unless, of course, you’ve got something else in mind.”
Your breath hitched, and your chest tightened. “You’re disgusting,” you said, your voice low but trembling with anger. “You really think I’d just-”
“What? Sleep with me?” Barty interrupted, his smirk widening as he leaned in closer. “Why not? That’s what this has always been about, hasn’t it? A bit of fun. A bit of danger. But if that’s not on the table…” He shrugged, stepping back and taking another drag from his cigarette. “Well, what’s the point?”
You stared at him, your chest heaving as you struggled to process the sheer cruelty of his words. “You don’t mean that,” You said quietly, but even as the words left your mouth, you could see the glint of triumph in his eyes.
“Don’t I?” He chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke as he watched you with a detached amusement that made your stomach twist. “Face it, doll. This was never about anything real. You’re just upset because I beat you to the punch.”
“The punch?” You echoed, your voice shaking with disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You were always going to leave,” He said simply, his tone casual, almost bored. “Run back to your safe little Gryffindor bubble the second this got too messy. I’m just saving us both the trouble.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. You hated how easily and effortlessly he could tear you down with just a few carefully chosen words. And worst of all, you hated how much you still cared, even now.
“You’re a coward,” You said finally, your voice low and steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “You hide behind this- this persona because you’re too scared to let anyone see the real you. But guess what, Barty? That’s not my problem anymore.”
You turned on your heel, heading for the door, but his voice stopped you just as your hand touched the handle.
“Go on, then,” He called, his tone light and mocking. “Run back to Lupin. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to play the hero.”
You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The tears spilled over as you yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind you, the sound echoing through the corridor as you stormed away.
Inside the room, Barty stood frozen, his smirk finally slipping away as the silence pressed in around him. He clenched his jaw, his hands trembling as he brought the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling deeply like it might dull the ache in his chest.
It didn’t. It never did.
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#barty crouch fanfic#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch x reader#barty x reader#barty crouch jr fanfic#bartemius crouch junior#Barty x potter!reader#Barry crouch jr x potter!reader#remus lupin x reader
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do-do-do-do-do i am gonna make an alt ending for this >:) it will be sadder be prepared
"Go away," Regulus said, head bent over his book so his curls cover his writing.
"I want to know why that happened."
Fucking James Potter. Of course it's Potter.
"It didn't," Regulus said, dipping his quill in ink. "That didn't happen, Potter. It was a reflex."
"It was a reflex to kiss me back?"
"That's what I said," Regulus muttered, thinking of the curses his friends knew for when they figured this out and almost smiling at what Potter had coming to him.
Potter rolled his eyes. "What, so you stick your tongue in people's mouths anytime they kiss you? Who are you kissing, anyways?"
"Barty gives pretty good tongue," Regulus said casually, enjoying the way Potter's eyes widened.
"Why are you kissing your friends?" Potter asked, very clearly trying to play nonchalant.
Regulus looked up, putting as much Black sarcasm into his face as he could physically muster. "Bat's kissed all of us. We were high, anyways. He's got-"
James sat forward, leaning over towards Regulus. "Oh? Who's he got now?"
"If I told you," Regulus said, closing his notebook, "We'd both wake up in May in the States. Bat doesn't fuck around."
"How would he know?"
Regulus raised an eyebrow in Potter's direction. "He knows."
"Your friends are so strange," James says. "I'm almost glad I don't know them."
Regulus shook his head, picking up his quill and fishing Advanced Potion Making out of his bag. He'd stolen the copy from Sirius, who hadn't even noticed it was missing yet.
"If I were one of your friends," Potter asked, clearly unable to stand the silence, "Would Crouch have kissed me?"
"Probably," Regulus answered. "But we're not friends, so it doesn't matter."
"You don't think we could ever be friends?"
"No," Regulus answered, trying very hard not to think of James's hair or his shoulders, or the way his arms were now folded on Regulus's shoulder.
"That's good, I think," James whispered, bringing his head to rest on his hands, which was still on Regulus's shoulder. They were eye-to-eye now.
Regulus could've shoved him off. It was probably what James was expecting.
He didn't.
"Why?"
Regulus turned his head and found James's face mere inches from his. He couldn't help but be reminded of the day before, when James had surged forward out of almost nowhere and kissed him.
"Friendship," James whispered, eyes dropping to Regulus's lips and back up again. "That's not exactly what I want from you."
Regulus's hands felt useless. He wished he could do something with them.
He remembered yesterday, when James had kissed him. Sure, Regulus had kissed him back and fled, but-
In the moment.
This time, it was Regulus who leaned forward. He let his eyes flicker closed in their little corner of the library Regulus had casted a concealment charm over once James had arrived.
He leaned back, just a little, when Jame was unresponsive.
"Why'd you stop," James murmured, smiling a little as he drew Regulus by his neck, and Regulus had no idea how his hands had ended up there but they were warm, and-
Sweet Salazar, James was warm. He was like a little sunbeam personified. Regulus wormed his hands to James's back, doing his best to turn his shoulders so they could fully face each other.
They broke away only to kiss again, and Regulus had to open his eyes.
James was smiling, yes, Regulus could feel that, but his eyes were closed and he looked relaxed. Regulus hadn't realized either of them weren't relaxed until they both were.
"Was that a reflex, too?" James murmured against Regulus's lips.
"Oh, fuck you," Regulus replied, leaning in again. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips.
#:D#marauders#marauders era#dead gay wizards#fuck jkr#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#rosekiller#if you squint#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#bcj#bartylus#a little#jfp#r.a.b#regulus arcturus black#james fleamont potter
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Hihi congrats on 100 followers!! Can I request prompt 25 with Sam pls?
Hi! Thank you and I hope you enjoy what I wrote for you. I just really love Sammy❤️
Prompts: “Are you angry with me?” “Oh, no, no, no, no... I'm furious with you.”
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader
“It's not funny!”
“No, I know, I know…” You crossed your arms and looked away. Maybe that would help.
Let's just say that being in a relationship with Sam Winchester was also about getting into all of his family activities. That is, activities he shared with Dean.
And that meant getting into their jokes.
It had started calmly. Dean, in an attempt to integrate you knowing how much you meant to his baby brother, started by making a joke. A small joke that you returned with something minimally big. Which led to the three of you making jokes between each other.
Everything was small and harmless...
Until it wasn't.
Sam had put glue on your comb, causing it to stick to your hair when you went to brush it.. Luckily it hadn't been necessary to cut it, but you wanted to give it back to him... In a big way.
And since he had messed with your hair, let's just say that you would mess with his. So you put glitter in his shampoo and had the brilliant idea of bathing with him so you could put it on.
You didn't count on the fact that you had put so much into it that his head now looked like a bowling ball. That's why when he dried his hair and noticed the shine on his towel, he instinctively looked at you.
“Honey... Anything you have to tell me?”
“I think it would be better if you looked in the mirror.”
That's how, minutes later, you, already dressed, and him with a towel around his hip, were in this situation. The best part was that not only was her hair filled with glitter, but her entire body had traces of it.
“Do you know how hard it will be to get all this out of me?”
“I bet a lot.”
“Dean won't leave me alone if he sees me like this.” He sighed.
You remained silent. Sam trying to think of a way to get the glitter off and you concentrating on not laughing. After a few seconds you decided to speak.
“Are you angry with me?”
He looked up at you and crossed his arms.
“Oh, no, no, no, no... I’m furious with you.”
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and started laughing. Sam just watched you, trying to stay serious, but he couldn't stand it. Your laugh was contagious. He laughed lightly and spread his arms out to his sides.
“Yep... Maybe it's a little funny.”
You put a hand on your belly as you continued laughing. He shook his head in amusement and approached you, wanting to hug you.
“Oh, no, no-”
You tried to move away from his shiny body, but he wrapped you in his strong arms, scattering the glitter over your clothes and hair.
“There we go. Now we are equal.” He laughed, rubbing against you.
“Now I'll need to take another shower.”
“We could shower together.”
He pulled away slightly to look at you and ran his nose along your cheek, leaving more glitter behind. You huffed before gently pushing him away.
“You're like a giant who fell into a pool of strippers.”
“You spend too much time with my brother.” He pecked at your side and you slapped his hand. “Know that revenge will be good.”
“As long as you don't mess with my hair, I won't mess with yours.”
"Deal." He smiled and hugged you again, this time without letting go.
“Ugh, enough!”
“Nope, it’s not.”
And so he carried you all the way to the shower, his arms around you so the glitter would transfer to your body.
You knew the next pranks would get out of hand, and you were already plotting the next one in your head.
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Kari gave a small giggle at when Adam talked about her tailbone. She shook her head and let it be, trying to ignore the outside chaos right now.
She took the notepad and pen and hummed softly, writing down whatever came to mind. "Well... We will need to have plenty of rope to reset or repair any traps that use rope, sticks to sharpen into stakes to use in traps, rocks could be useful ammo for slingshots which are a good backup for guns which we don't have. Smaller rocks for ammo, bigger rocks might be useful if we can chip them and shape them into arrow heads or something to use for weapons. If we happen upon any knives or sharp things those could be good. Any sort of container or thing for storage is useful..." Kari paused for a moment, looking over her list.
"Then we need foods, preferably canned and non perishable or with a really long shelf life. If we find something that requires a refrigerator grab it anyway but it needs to be eaten quickly since I'm not sure how long we will have electricity. Flashlights, candles, matches, anything like that is needed. If there are some hand-crank flashlights go for those first since they're our best option right now for a reliable source of light. Any parts for machines or a solar generator or anything like that grab it. We might have to build our own generator for electricity so you don't have to keep using your powers and tiring yourself out. If there are books to help us, like medical books or books on building, anything that can give us survival information grab it. It's better to have the information. Uh, any medical supplies like first aid kits or stray bandages or medicine will help, hoard what you can when it comes to medical supplies, food, and water." Kari took a breath, trying to think of a good priority list before speaking again.
"So, in order of priority it's; Water, Food, Medical supplies, Weapons, Items for Traps, Information on anything we don't know." Kari looked up at Adam and sighed. "I don't thing we need a detailed list. Right now anything could he useful, we just need a set priority list and that might change as things happen. But right now this is the best I could come up with." The child chirped softly and showed Adam the list. It was just what she said was a priority right now and in the order she said.
Adam raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Kari as she mentioned her tailbone. He immediately smirked, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her. “Yeah, that’s a hard pass from me,” he said with his usual sarcastic edge. “I don’t touch tailbones, kid. Pretty sure that’s fucking illegal even before the apocalypse. And now? Well, not much law left, but I’m still not getting arrested by some zombie cop who’s weirdly dedicated to his job.”
He ruffled her hair lightly, trying to shift her focus. “Besides, I’d rather not be remembered as the angel who got locked up for inappropriate tail touching. No thanks.”
Adam leaned forward and grabbed a nearby notepad and pen, handing them to her. “Now, instead of scratching at yourself like a flea-ridden hellhound, let’s be productive. We need a list. Supplies. Weapons. Traps. You know, fun apocalypse stuff. If we’re gonna head out at some point, we might as well grab everything in one go and not die trying.”
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-> Audiovisual references <- -> AO3 Link <-
Summary: You go with Nero to a Wanderer Convention (the LaDS equivalent of Comic-Con) and shenanigans ensue after you win a cosplay contest...
Content: MDNI Porn with plot, hanging out with Nero, tension between you two, a bunch of cliche situations, Carter cameo because yes, experienced dom!fem!Reader, virgin extremely sub!Nero, coworkers to lovers, handjob, fingering, blowjob, p in v sex with protection (cowgirl to cuddling), overstimulation (crying), pussy eating, pegging, aftercare.
Word count: ~15k (this got out of my hands so fast) (+ extra at the end)
A/N: I wrote this for me and the other 3 freaks in the fandom who like Nero. I had so many ideas and scenes in mind but it honestly felt like too much for ONE fic so... Don't be surprised if I write more stuff for Nero in the future. I'm far from done. Mwah <3
There was a stillness in the air, uncomfortable for anyone who could feel it. In this case, most of the Hunters in the room could, except for the one who had caused it.
Nero had barged into the floor where you all worked, waving two pieces of paper high in the air, yelling, “I got free tickets for the WandererCon, and they let me bring a +1, so who wants to come!?”
It had been so out of character for him, to be so loud and cheerful, that you all had turned from your desks to stare at him. The question now was, who wanted to go with him? He was the only one that liked Wanderers to that extent.
And so, a silence fell across the room. His expression started to falter, realizing how embarrassing it was to yell such a thing to his coworkers, and the lifted hand with the tickets began to plummet.
“Me! I wanna go!” You jumped, feeling nothing but pity for the poor guy.
He brightened up again, “Really?”
You walked up to him, giving Tara a look, and nodded. “Yeah, when is it?”
Back to his usual introversion, but motivated by your display of interest, he presented the ticket to you. “This weekend… It lasts the whole two days, b-but! We can go at whatever day and time is best for you…”
You took the ticket. It was a bright blue piece of laminated paper with a drawing of a chibi Wanderer waving glow sticks, the words ‘Come wander through WandererCon! Weekend pass for 1. Only valid if presented with its twin ticket.’ were written in glittery white. He was holding an identical one.
There was a choice to make. Clearly, Nero wanted to spend the whole weekend at this event, which would mean sacrificing all of yours for his happiness. Would it really be that bad? It was a once-a-year event, and the guy didn’t really have friends outside of forums to go to this with.
“I’m completely free this weekend, so let’s make the most of it!” You smiled.
Blush creeped up his face, mouth opening and closing a couple of times, fighting the urge to assure you that - No, it’s really okay if you don’t want to spend the whole weekend there - because damn it, he did actually want to do that, and since you were offering so nicely…
“Okay!” He finally exclaimed, clutching his ticket tight.
“We can discuss the details later, we have to go back to work or Jenna will think we’re slacking.”
“R-right, yeah, of course…” He stumbled over to his desk, glancing at you once over his shoulder before disappearing behind his wall of monitors.
On your way back to yours, Tara rolled his chair closer, whispering, “That was nice of you. You know, I doubt he would have complained if you had only offered an hour of your time.”
“It’s fine. I really didn’t have plans for this weekend, anyways.”
“Have fun. And good luck with Nero… He’s probably going to be very excitable.”
You chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll buy you something.”
Hours later, it was time to head back home.
You turned off your computer and walked over to Nero’s. He was typing up a storm and didn’t notice you approaching. An extensive document analyzing the material and composition of Wanderer’s body-formed blades, and whether or not they can be considered an exoskeleton. You recalled Jenna asking for such a report earlier, but you didn’t expect a whole dissertation about it. Squinting, you could see that there were… 143 pages of text, all written today.
“Damn, fast fingers…” You muttered, before realizing you had said it out loud.
The typing stopped abruptly. “What?” He swiveled in his chair, face pale in shock, not quite meeting your eyes.
“Nothing! I just, um, came here to say ‘I’ll text you later to discuss what we’ll do tomorrow’, so, yeah, message delivered. I’ll leave now.” You waved goodbye, smiling awkwardly.
“Okay.” He nodded, waving back. He was still recovering from your words, though he couldn’t tell if he had heard correctly.
You arrived home and sighed. Were you truly ready for the activities of the next two days? Only time could tell.
After having dinner, now relaxing in your living room, you opened the messaging app. You couldn’t remember the exact moment you two had exchanged phone numbers, but this would be the first time you had texted each other, and the revelation made you strangely self-conscious about what your introductory message should be. Shaking your head, you went for something simple.
-> CLICK HERE TO PLAY THE TEXT MESSAGES! <-
Your patience be damned, you were determined to help Nero have a good time at the convention no matter what. Setting the phone down, you walked to your closet and rummaged around for the Lumiere costume, which was pleasantly clean and ready to be worn.
Goal in mind, you went to bed, ready for whatever the weekend would bring.
The alarm went off, signaling the start of your (most probably) eventful day. You rolled out of bed, had breakfast, took a shower, and commenced the Lumierification.
In theory, it was simple, but it took you a minute to manage to fully zip up the dress since you couldn’t reach, and the thigh highs refused to stay on your thighs until you used fashion tape, not to mention the mask kept tilting to one side.
Eventually, everything was perfectly in place, hair and make up as well. Just in time, too, since the clock now read 10:30. You grabbed your bag and made your way out.
Parked outside was an unremarkable small gray car, but that was the last thing in your thoughts. Leaning on it with his arms crossed, stood a perfect recreation of a Luminivore, so much so that your first instinct was to reach for your gun - even if you weren’t carrying it.
Whatever cool and composed attitude Nero had went right out of the window once he saw you approach, uncrossing and crossing his arms again only to uncross them and scratch the back of his neck, which he couldn’t, because of the costume, so he let them drop and shifted on his feet.
“You- You said-,” he coughed, sound muffled through the headpiece, “I thought you were going to wear-”
You looked down at yourself. Ooooh, right. He was probably expecting a male version of the costume.
“My bad, sorry for the confusion,” you waved a hand in the air, chuckling, “I guess I’m a female version of Lumiere. Is that okay?”
“Okay?” he said a little louder than intended, “Yes, of course- Of course it’s okay.”
You stepped closer to look at his costume. “This looks amazing, by the way.”
He froze.
“Don’t tell me you drove here wearing that helmet, though, because… That seems dangerous.”
He quickly shook his head. “N-no, I didn’t, I just wanted to show you the whole thing put together…”
“Ah, good,” you lifted your hand to touch one of the glowing ridges on his arm, “You did a great job. Looks just like the real thing.”
“Thanks,” he squeaked out.
You clapped your hands together and smiled. “Well, let’s go! We have a great day ahead of us!”
The noise made him straighten up. He nodded and reached up to take off the headpiece. Under it, he looked like always, glasses lopsided and hair a bit ruffled from wearing the Wanderer’s head, but nothing different. You also took note of the red hue on his cheeks, but you attributed it to the same cause as the others. He smiled and gestured for you to get in the car.
The drive was mostly silent, except for the music coming from the radio. Nero had asked you if you wanted to put on your own playlist because ‘his music taste was bad’, but you shook your head, so he settled for the radio. Otherwise, neither of you talked.
You decided to look up what the event’s activities were. He had probably planned it out already, but you were still curious.
A lecture on Wanderers by a Xander scientist, a card tournament - you didn’t know they sold cards, a Meet and Greet with some renowned Hunters, a cosplay contest, a Twinkle Toys plushie reveal, a DIY Protocore candy station… The list went on. It seemed like people took this more seriously than you thought. There were also many merch stands all over the enclosure.
One of the activities stood out to you, though.
“Are you going to enter the cosplay contest?”
He gripped the steering wheel, “N-no. Why are you asking..?”
“You should! You have a shot at winning with yours.”
“Mmm… I don’t know. I’d have to go up a stage, with so many people looking…”
“It’s up to you. In my opinion, you could win, but I might be biased because we’re friends,” you giggled.
He chuckled, brow a bit furrowed.
An hour later, you arrived at the place where the convention would be held. It turned out that there was a parking lot reserved for those attending, so you didn’t have to go in circles looking for an empty spot.
You got out of the car and stretched, looking around. Quite a few people - some in costume, some not - were already gathering at the entrance.
Nero put the headpiece back on and walked a few steps towards the crowd, before stopping and turning to make sure you were following. He tilted his head in a “coming?” gesture.
Sliding your tote bag up your shoulder, you skipped along.
A queue rapidly formed, with a coordination you didn’t expect from a group of sleep deprived nerds. Some of them looked at you - more like ogled at you. Great.
“QuantumSocialite?” A random guy approached Nero, calling him by his username. His friends gasped and whispered among themselves.
“...Yes?”
“Dude, it’s me, LuxLuxLucis.”
“The Lightchasers mod? Oh, wow!”
“You really wore the costume! It looks insane. You’re a legend. The material looks so accurate, how did you do it?”
“Thank you. I analyzed many Luminivore pictures and samples of their chitinous exterior, then compared what materials would be best to use without risking the quality while…”
Aaand just like that, you stopped paying attention. Instead, you noticed how this guy’s friends kept whispering stuff and giggling while looking at Nero. They were giving you major bad vibes. Pretending to be still listening to the incomprehensible yapping, you shuffled closer and eavesdropped on what they were saying.
“...paid her to come along with him.”
“For sure, he’s chronically online and he made that costume, there’s no way a female is hanging out with him willingly.”
“Wow, you guys know a lot about Wanderers,” you said pointedly, joining Nero’s conversation, “I’m actually learning a lot. I’m really happy I was the one that got to be your +1 and not our coworkers,” you gave him a warm smile.
The whispering ceased, now replaced by confused looks. He was completely still, his thoughts a mystery since his face was hidden.
“If you want to learn about Wanderers, you’re in good hands,” said the guy he was talking to, “He’s the most knowledgeable in that area.”
“I know! He really is. I’m really lucky we came together.”
Nero looked down at his clawed gloves, fidgeting with them. The two trash talkers were staring in anger, which you interpreted as jealousy since they were most likely projecting. Suck it.
Just then, an announcement rang out, stating the opening of the gates and the inauguration of the convention. Everyone got their tickets ready and began entering the place.
People were getting a bit pushy and the crowd got thick around you, so you hooked your arm around Nero’s to avoid getting lost or trampled, feeling safer next to his bulky costume. He jerked his head towards you, then realized why you were standing that close to him, and folded his arm to let you hold onto him better. An imperceptible tremble ran across his body.
You both walked to the gates and presented your tickets.
“Alright, let’s see… Couples’ weekend passes… Everything looks in order! Have fun,” the staff member smiled.
“...couples’?” You asked when he was out of earshot.
“W-wait, n-no, I- I didn’t, I mean-,” he gestured wildly with his hands, “They w-were given to me, you remem-ber, how I said, I said I got them for f-free? But I didn’t want to uhh… Um, to make it weird! At the office! S-so I skipped the fact that they were for, uh, couples…”
You chuckled, “Nero, it’s okay, I was asking out of pure curiosity. I have nothing against them being for couples.”
“O-oh. Okay. Right. Ha…” He visibly relaxed at your reassurance.
“So, what do you want to do first?”
“I was thinking we could walk around and see all the stands. Should be enough time until the first scheduled event…”
“Sure! Let’s go.”
It was a big space with rows of stalls selling merch, but also ‘official’ booths, including a Hunter’s equipment showcase, one for the show Super Hunters - with exclusive art never seen before, another with Lumiere memorabilia straight from Linkon’s History museum, Wanderers’ life-sized replicas…
Obviously, you visited all of these with Nero. Even took a picture of him next to the Luminivore replica per his request. It was cute seeing him struggle to find a good pose.
“The lecture is going to start soon… I’m going to head over there, but if you’re not interested, you don’t have to go.”
“The Xander lecture? No, I’m going with you,” you said with determination. You didn’t tell him that it was because you thought they were shady as hell and this was a good opportunity to get further information about them, but it’s not like he needed to know.
With Nero’s planning, you managed to get a good seat at the lecture hall before it filled up. He took off the headpiece to be able to see better and to avoid bothering the people behind him, placing it on his lap. Both your bags rested between your feet.
A staff member appeared, microphone in hand. “Hello everyone, and welcome to Xander Sciences’ lecture on the nature of Wanderers. Without further delay, let me introduce the man who will be speaking today, Dr. Carter!”
Everyone clapped as the man himself walked onstage. You were immediately on high alert, eyes trained on him.
“Thank you, thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here,” he took the microphone.
The next hour was spent picking at every word he said, trying to find any kind of incriminating loose threads, but it was clear the lecture was well rehearsed and none of what he said was useful to you, even if the way he talked about Wanderers put you on edge.
At the end, you grabbed Nero’s arm and pulled him along, “I want to talk to Dr. Carter for a moment.”
“Okay,” he followed, cheeks pink.
The rest of the attendants walked to the exit, which gave you a clear path towards the stage’s stairs.
“Dr. Carter!” You called out, waving your hand up.
He stopped for a moment, surprised to see you there. He smiled, “Ah, Miss Hunter, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I didn’t know I’d have such esteemed listeners in the audience today,” he extended his hand to shake yours. You didn’t.
“It’s an honor to meet you in person, Dr. Carter, that was a very insightful lecture,” said Nero.
“The honor is mine. You seem to be a Wanderer enthusiast,” he looked at his costume.
“He’s my coworker,” you cut in, putting a little more emphasis on ‘my’ than you intended, “don’t bother trying to recruit him for anything.”
“As cold as ever I see, Miss Hunter. It was a simple observation, I didn’t even say anything.”
“Why did you decide to give a lecture here, Dr. Carter?” You ignored his remarks.
“Why not? I’ve done a lot of research on Wanderers, and I thought it’d be best to share my knowledge with those seeking it.”
You were sure there was something more to this than that, but you doubted he would outright admit it. It could even be something much simpler, shameless Xander Sciences publicity to make people interested in being under their care, whatever that entailed. You hoped people wouldn’t fall for it.
He continued, “Since you’re here, you wouldn’t by chance be interested in a quick chat between us, would you?” He took half a step closer.
You felt a weight around your shoulders, pulling you back. Nero, who had been silently watching, spoke with a frown.
“She clearly wants nothing to do with you. What do you think you’re doing?”
You looked at him, eyebrows raised. He had a very determined look on his face, one you had only seen when someone insulted Lumiere in his vicinity, and to be honest, he was kind of intimidating. Kind of.
The tension could be cut with a knife. They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. If it was your turn to say anything, they were out of luck, because you had no idea what to say. Finally, Carter stepped back and slid his hands in his pockets.
“Have fun in the convention, Miss Hunter. And your Wanderer pet too,” he smirked.
He walked away, leaving you both huffing at his arrogance. No, actually, as you looked at Nero, you discovered you were the only one huffing. He was tomato red.
“You had more things planned for today, right?” You snapped him out of it.
“A-ah, yes,” he pushed his glasses up, “let’s go have lunch.”
There were food trucks stationed outside of the convention center. The walk helped Nero calm down, though he couldn’t seem to look you in the eye. He wished he could put the headpiece back on, but it was a pointless action since you were about to eat and he’d have to take it off again.
After some deciding, you settled for skewers of deep fried chicken that were easy to eat standing up. You chose the honey sauce, he chose the sweet and sour sauce. For something so simple, it was delicious - the queue you had to wait was definitely worth it.
“Do you want to try mine?” You held up a skewer to him.
His eyes darted between it and your face, blinking.
“I mean, we got different flavors, so…” You shrugged.
At that, he shook his head like he was getting rid of his thoughts, then nodded.
“Okay. I’ll trade you- Mhmph!?”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence - ‘one of my skewers for one of yours’ - not that you had heard the beginning of it in the first place. All you heard was him agreeing to try yours.
You shoved the skewer into his mouth.
It took him a moment to understand what just had happened, but when it dawned on him, he turned red again. You were confused as to why he was staring at you instead of biting.
“...”
“...”
He bit down and gently pushed your hand away.
“How is it? Good, right?”
“Y-yes…”
“Can I try yours now?”
He lifted a skewer to give it to you in hand, but you-
“Aaah…” You opened your mouth expectantly.
The chances of him surviving this weekend decreased with every minute he spent by your side. Alas, he moved the skewer closer to your mouth with a trembling hand. You met him halfway and bit down on it, causing him to flinch.
You tore off a piece of the fried chicken, relishing in the taste with a “mmmm” as you chewed. By this point, he was fully looking away, covering his mouth with his gloved hand; it was so difficult to keep a clear mind.
“Yours is really good too!”
He hummed in response.
After finishing the food, a few people in cosplay walked past, followed by more, and more groups. The contest must have been about to start.
“You’re really not going to participate?” You asked.
Nero shook his head. He had put the helmet back on, to feel less ‘exposed’ more than anything.
“Is there any way I could convince you? What if we went together? You wouldn’t be alone,” you pulled out your phone, “I read there’s exclusive merch as reward for the winners that won’t be obtainable otherwise, and, look, there’s even a surprise prize for the couples’ category.”
You swore you heard him inhale sharply.
“We already have the couples’ tickets, don’t we? What’s the harm?”
You knew you were pushing him a bit too much, but you were sure that deep down he wanted to join the contest, all he needed was some bribing convincing, and limited merch was sure to do the trick.
“…Do you really want to join?”
“Yeah! It’ll be fun. Unless you think my costume isn’t that good. I don’t want to bring our score down.”
“No, no, no! Your costume is perfect! You look perfect. It would be great if we went together, actually…”
It was crazy to you that he got flustered over the smallest things but was able to say that to you with no trouble. Maybe he didn’t notice what he just said.
“Great! Let’s go register, then!”
Following the cosplayers, you walked back inside towards the hall where the contest would be held. They all looked fantastic, from many other Lumieres, to Wanderers of all kinds (a girl dressed as Heartbreaker was so cute), to characters from the Super Hunters show. All could be winners. But you looked to your left to the nervous mess that was walking alongside you, and you were certain that he would score the highest.
Names written, you were given the number 34 to go onstage. While you waited for your turn, you made sure everything about your costumes was in place. You even managed to convince him to practice some poses.
“I’m not sure about this…” He fidgeted with one of the protruding crystals on his elbow.
“We’re already inscribed, you can’t chicken out now.”
“I… There’s so many people here…”
“Nero,” you swatted his hand away so he wouldn’t ruin his own costume, “forget about them. Don’t look at them. Just look at me. We’re going to crush this, okay?”
He nodded faintly.
“When we go up there, keep your eyes on me if you want. Pretend the judges don’t exist.”
“O-okay.”
And so he did. When you two went onstage, his eyes didn’t stray from you. Not as you unsheathed your sword and struck a pose, not as you pretended to fight him, not as you gave a final smile and bow to the judges, not as you grabbed his arm and dragged him off the stage. The thing was, hadn’t you told him to keep his eyes on you, he still would have. He had been marveling at you from the corner of his eye whenever he had worn the helmet.
“You did great, Nero!” You clapped, giddy. “We’re gonna win for sure!”
He fidgeted under your praise, “Thank you.”
The rest of the contestants had their turn, which made you increasingly nervous; you wanted to know the results as soon as possible. You had gone through the trouble of convincing Nero, it would be a shame if you didn’t get at least a minor prize.
“And now, on the couples’ category…” The voice of the presenter echoed backstage, “In third place, couple 52!” Applause. The respective couple walked out. “In second place, couple 19!” More applause. They walked out, too. “Before we announce first place, a few honorable mentions…” Oh, come on.
“It’s okay if we don’t win,” Nero said with a soft voice.
You took his hand, “We are going to win.”
You had only taken his hand to calm down your own nerves, excitement and anticipation coursing through your veins, but it also helped him relax slightly, as long as he didn’t think too hard about the fact that he was holding your hand.
“In first place…” You both tensed up. “Couple 34!”
He squeezed your hand in reflex. Time stopped for a second. It wasn’t until a staff member pushed you both towards the stage that your face broke into a big smile, jumping and shaking Nero.
You were received with applause, like the previous couples. They made you walk to the center of the stage, standing between the other two pairs of winners, who were also clapping. The judges spoke.
“Congratulations to all of the winners, and thank you to everyone who participated. If you may all please take off the parts covering your faces so we can see our champions properly…”
The couples beside you took off theirs, you took off the Lumiere mask, and Nero took off the helmet. Applause followed. He smiled shyly, looking around at the crowd. Confetti rained down. Lost in the excitement of the moment, you moved closer to give Nero a kiss on the cheek. Just as he was turning to you.
Now, it’s not like you kissed him. But your lips did land on the corner of his mouth.
You blinked at each other.
“H-HUH?” He reeled back, covering his flushed face.
No time to explain yourself, as the staff members brought the prizes and shoved them into your hands. A large basket filled with all kinds of merch was given to all three pairs of participants.
“And for the couple who placed first, a special bonus! WandererCon has collaborated with a nearby hotel for a unique experience, offering you both a one-night stay!”
The staff gave you some documents detailing everything.
“That concludes this years’ contest…” The judge continued, but you weren’t listening anymore.
Because if what the documents said was true, you were about to spend the night with Nero in a room with one bed. Judging by the look on his face, he had just read that part, too.
“We have to tell them, that there’s been a… Um. A mistake,” he told you later, sitting on a bench, helmet back on to hide his expression.
“What if we tell them that we’re not a couple and they take away our prizes? They would question why we entered the couples’ category if we’re not one,” you reasoned.
The thought of losing the merch made him pause.
“It’ll be fine. I read that the room has a couch. One of us can sleep on it. And! Did you read the part about the Wanderer-themed food they’ll be serving us for dinner and breakfast? That sounds amazing.”
“Yeah… It does…”
In the end, he relented. That’s how you found yourself taking the keys to the room in the hotel’s reception, where you were informed of all the amenities and services provided.
A few of the guests gave you weird looks, but the receptionist asked to take a picture with you both.
“You must be the winners of the contest!” She had said with excitement. “Well, lovebirds, enjoy the room,” she added at the end of her explanation, winking.
The ride in the elevator was awkward after that moment. Floor 1… Floor 2… Floor 3… All the way to floor 6.
Luckily, the luxuriousness of the room took over all of your thoughts as you stepped in. It made you wonder what WandererCon could gain by partnering with this hotel for such a sum of money spent on this suite.
“The description on the document did not do this place justice,” you commented.
“Yeah… That sofa is bigger than my bed back at home…” He took off the helmet to see the place better.
The floor-to-ceiling windows gave you a view of the hotel’s garden below. A massive TV hung from the wall, coffee table and sofa in front of it. There was even a kitchenette in a corner, minifridge filled to the brim with free stuff that you couldn’t help but want to try right away just because it was free.
To the left, the entrance to the bedroom. If the sofa was already big enough to sleep, the canopy bed must’ve been king size. On it, a pair of folded pajamas and a change of underwear had been left, as well as a gift basket filled with…
“I’m going to put that away,” you said promptly, not giving Nero the chance to process its contents.
You opened the wardrobe and shoved it in the lowest space available.
“Woah… Look at this,” he beckoned from the bathroom door.
Peeking from his shoulder, the only word that you could really use to describe what you were seeing was lavish. Marble floors and walls, a massive shower, a massive sink under a massive mirror, and of course, to top it off, a massive jacuzzi. The reason for their sizes being that they were meant to be used by two people at once.
Room fully explored, you sat down on the sofa to discuss what to do next.
“They’ll bring us dinner as soon as we ask for it. I don’t know about you, but I want to take a shower and change first,” you said, taking off some of the costume’s accessories.
“Uh, yeah, no, I agree. You can use the bathroom first, I’ll go after you.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
You took the provided clothes and stepped into the bathroom, feeling tiny. It was easy to take off most of what you were wearing, except the same item that gave you trouble when you first got Lumierefied: The dress. You tried to reach the zipper at the top of your back from different angles, but you couldn’t get enough leverage to pull it down.
“Damn it.”
Nero was on his phone when you walked back to the sofa, presumably on one of his forums.
“Hey.”
He almost dropped his phone, startled. “Yeah?” He turned to you.
“I can’t unzip my dress. Would you mind helping me?”
Instantly red. And phone dropped.
You turned around to show him the zipper. “If you pull it a bit I think I can reach the rest of the way.”
He had taken off his clawed gloves already to be able to use his phone, so he had no excuse to procrastinate. As he moved to stand behind you, you could feel his shaky breaths on your nape, and you could swear you heard his heart hammering in his chest.
Ziiip.
It was faster than you had expected. Then again, you guessed he wanted to be done with it as soon as possible.
“T-there.”
“Thank you!”
Back in the bathroom, you took off the dress and turned on the shower. If you had been on your own, you would have tried the jacuzzi, but you didn’t want to take up too much time.
The water was nice and hot, not to mention the shampoo and gel given by the hotel smelled really good. Like coconut.
You finished showering and wrapped a towel around your body, drying your hair a bit too. There were a few steps in your post-shower routine that you usually went through, but you remembered that Nero was quite resolute about cleanliness and would want to use the shower as soon as possible, so in the name of efficiency, you took your clothes and lotions out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
“I’m done! You can go now,” you called out.
“Okay!”
He came trotting through the door, only to freeze and cover his eyes with his hands upon seeing your towel-clad form.
“Y-you said you were d-done…” His voice got quieter and quieter.
“I am! I know you like being clean, and you already did me a favor by letting me go first, so you can shower while I finish changing here!”
“It’s okay… Really, I, I can wait…”
“Nonsense. Come on.”
You grabbed his set of clothes and pushed them into his hands, forcing him to look at you, the way you wet hair clung to your skin, your flushed cheeks due to the heat of the water, the dangerously low point the towel was resting on your chest- He swallowed.
Completely ignoring his wandering eyes, moreso because it amused you, you grabbed his arm and forced him into the bathroom.
“See? Was that so difficult?”
You closed the door before he could answer, but he had little to say.
Time to finish your self-care routine. You grabbed the body moisturizer and started applying it to your arms and legs, the texture soft. Would they tell you the brand if you asked in the hotel’s reception?
While you pondered this, there was a crash.
“Nero…? You okay?”
“U-uh, yeah! I- I fell trying to get this off…”
“Having trouble with your costume, too? Yours looks harder to put on and take off than mine.”
“I didn’t really have trouble putting it on, but now…”
“Okay, let me help,” you knocked.
The door opened a crack, then closed as soon as he saw you.
“You- Ah, mm… Change first.”
“I can’t put on the pajamas yet, I have to let the lotion dry. Just come out.”
One second of silence. Two seconds of silence. The door opened again.
Making a gesture with your hands for him to move closer, you instructed him to lean down so you could pull off the upper part of the costume. He was glad he didn’t have to look at you and could look at the floor instead.
It was difficult to find the right amount of force to use, since you didn’t want to ruin it, but you had to get it unstuck.
So you pulled, and pulled, and pulled, each time with a bit more strength- Too late. The piece came off, but now there was no time to brake. You stumbled back, making Nero stumble forward, the costume part flying off backwards over your head and landing on the other side of the room… Just as you landed on the floor and Nero on top of you.
“Ow…” You reached to rub your head. At least there was a carpet.
“I- Uh- Um- I-”
You blinked your eyes open to see why Nero was speechless now. Ah. The towel.
It wasn’t completely off, but a straight line of skin was exposed from your right shoulder to your right thigh. That included half of your chest.
The rest was covered, but it’s not like it mattered right now.
He couldn’t function. His eyes were glued to your body, and his face was poppy red. Even his glasses were fogging up.
“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes, “Nero, it’s a body part. You’ve never seen a body?”
He didn’t answer, still overwhelmed.
Well, since this had happened, you might as well have fun.
“Look.”
You grabbed his hand that was planted next to your head and pressed it to your breast, lifting an eyebrow.
“See? Just a body part.”
He squeaked and reeled back, pulling his hand free and crawling away from you. You sat up with a mischievous smile.
“Be honest,” you started, crawling towards him, “you like all this, don’t you? When I’m close to you, when I pay attention to you, when I touch you…”
He whimpered in response. The towel had fully fallen off by now.
“You act all shy, but we both know… You’ve been wanting this from the beginning.”
You reached him, caging him beneath you as he lay flat on the ground to stay as far away from you as possible. He was wearing a white T-shirt under the upper part of the costume, but he had yet to remove the bottom half, and you were certain that there was no space for him to wear pants of any kind under it, so he must be in boxers.
“I won’t do anything else unless I have your permission. If you want me to continue, you have to say it.”
Droplets from your wet hair fell on his face. Somehow, he managed to keep eye contact.
“You…” His chest fell and rose. “K-kiss me again, like before? P-please…”
Right, the accidental kiss. Had he been thinking about it this whole time? It was a quite innocent request compared to the situation you had put him in, but surprisingly direct coming from Nero.
His eyes darted to your lips several times, but he didn’t dare move.
“You want me to kiss you,” you repeated, then smirked, “is that all?”
He made a sound of protest and frustration. His fingers clutched the carpet in an attempt to hold himself back from doing anything embarrassing. He shook his head.
“No? What else? Use your words, pretty boy.”
His hand flew to his mouth. Did you really just call him that? You chuckled.
“Fine, we’ll take it slow.”
You pulled his hand away and pinned his arms to the floor. Slowly, so slowly, you leaned down until your lips brushed against his. Nothing more than a feather touch had him already gasping.
“Let’s see…” You whispered, “this is what I did before.”
Repeating what had happened in the contest, you kissed the corner of his lips. This time, however, letting the contact last longer, and making sure that a ‘mmm’ sound reverberated into the kiss.
When you pulled away, Nero was practically panting. His body squirmed under you, but you were certain it wasn’t because he wanted to escape your cruel intentions.
“There. That’s what you asked for.”
“W-wait!” Afraid that you were going to leave him like that, he found his voice again, “I want… Uhm- If you could, ah…”
“All you have to do is ask for it.”
He closed his eyes tight, as if saying these next words took all of his strength, “Do whatever you want with me.”
Your eyes widened. Oh, wow. He was actually a freak. Always the shy ones… You huffed a laugh, brushing the tip of your nose across his cheek to prompt him to open his eyes.
“Whatever, huh. Let’s be sensible. Just in case, let’s agree on a safe word,” you looked at him with genuine consideration.
He nodded, growing increasingly nervous at the thought of what you were about to do to him.
“How about… ‘Protocore’?”
“O-okay,” he knew this wasn’t a silly matter, so he was trying his best to be verbal about it.
“Alright, test it out. When should you say it?”
“Um… When I, if I feel uncomfortable… I should say p-protocore.”
“Good boy.”
Those two words made bumps appear all over his arms. You smiled with amusement.
That matter settled, your eyes made a very deliberate path to his lips. Since you were holding his wrists, your finger rested right over the pulse point there, showing you just how fast his heart had started beating at your gaze.
He tilted his head up to get himself the smallest bit closer to you, practically begging for a kiss. An actual proper kiss.
Your lips pressed against his, finally. You noticed they were slightly chapped, the texture rough in contrast to your softness, but that only made you want to run your tongue over them. So you did.
He instantly opened his mouth in response. You plunged your tongue into his mouth, which earned you a muffled whimper. He swiped his tongue against yours with caution, growing more comfortable as you kept going. It became messy very fast due to his inexperience, the deeper you kissed him, the more he started drooling.
Despite that, he was a very desperate kisser. Like he didn’t believe this was happening, nor it would ever happen again in the future, so he might as well go all out in the present.
You pulled back and licked your lips, looking down at his state. His glasses, apart from foggy, were now crooked, and a line of drool ran down his chin. You licked it up.
“I’m curious,” you announced with an air of mystery.
He tilted his head, silently asking ‘about?’. Not answering, you moved to sit next to him, setting his arms free. He mentally debated if he should touch your naked body with his newfound freedom, but he didn’t have time to reach a conclusion as your hand slid to his pants - still part of the costume - and pulled them off, along with his underwear.
He froze in flustered silence, completely exposed to you. Part of him wanted to cover himself up, it was too embarrassing to let you see his fully erect leaking dick, he felt too self-conscious about it, but the other part of him was curious to know your opinion. Maybe if you insulted him now, it would be easier for him to accept that he had fumbled you once he got back home.
But, you didn’t say anything.
No, as you stared at the 8-inch cock in front of you, you really didn’t have anything to say. Always the shy ones indeed.
With almost wonder in your eyes, you wrapped a hand around it. Nero twitched.
“W-wait, mh-”
He pushed himself up on his elbows, reaching to grab your wrist with half-lidded eyes. You didn’t move your hand, but returned your gaze to his expression.
“Wait? For what?”
“I just, well, you were kissing me and- I’m not saying I didn’t like it, t-the opposite, but well I’m nervous now, so… Uh, not yet because, because I-”
Cutting him off, you started pumping up and down, precum helping you slide along his length. He bit down hard on his lip to prevent a moan.
“W-wait! I! Ah-”
He let go of your hand in order to keep himself lifted on his elbows.
“Stop, s-stop, I’m too sensitive-”
You didn’t let up. If anything, you sped up, brushing your thumb across the tip.
“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” you said with a smirk.
“B-because, mh, fffh…” His words became higher pitched and whiney, “I don’t-”
His worst nightmare was realized right then. Having any sort of sexual interaction with a beautiful girl and cumming in less than thirty seconds. How pathetic of him, he thought.
The cum spilled over your hand and shot all across his T-shirt, his abdomen and legs shaking. His elbows gave out and he fell on his back.
“I’m s-orry- I’m sorry, I’m so- sorry-” Was the only thing he said through the orgasm, covering his eyes.
You stood up and left to go to the bathroom, and it solidified the fact for him: You thought he was disgusting and wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.
Nothing further from the truth, as you returned with a damp towel after cleaning your hand to help him clean up. You moved his hands away from his face and repositioned his glasses.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“What for?” You asked now that he had calmed down somewhat, handing him the towel.
“Mm… I, I came too fast…”
“But I wanted you to cum.”
“W-well, yeah, but, you know, that’s uhh…”
He didn’t look you in the eye as he cleaned himself and took his stained shirt off.
“It’s what?”
“Kinda… Pathetic…?”
He stood up and realized you were both completely bare in front of the other, and he still hadn’t touched you. The passing contact of his palm on your breast burned his skin.
“Maybe, but I found it hot.”
The blush returned to his face. He looked down and started fidgeting with his hands. You remembered he was about to shower before all of this happened, so you slid your hand in his and led him to the bathroom.
“Um, what are you-”
“I’ve been wanting to try the jacuzzi.”
“Oh.”
Water started filling the tub. In the meantime, you turned to Nero and stepped closer. He wanted to put his hands on you so badly, but he was too embarrassed to try.
Honestly, you just wanted to eat him up.
“Relax. We’re just going to take a bath, and then we’ll have dinner.”
“Yeah… Okay.”
You reached up and gently took off his glasses. Before setting them aside, you tried them on, curious, only to find he had a very high prescription. Even though you were blurry, the way you widened your eyes wasn’t missed and it made him giggle. As you looked at him, he coughed to cover up his laugh and looked away.
“I’d give you um, a compliment, about how they look on you but, you know uh… I can’t really see. Although I k-know for a fact that you look good in them because, because you… You look g-good in anything…”
You took them off and put them near the sink, then kissed his cheek.
“Thank you.”
Your bodies brushed when you got closer, and he instinctively lifted his hands with fear as if to say ‘I didn’t touch you on purpose! I’m not a pervert!’.
You shook your head and facepalmed. He panicked again at your gesture.
“Nero, I just gave you a handjob,” you sighed, “You know what? It’s okay. Forget that happened, maybe I went too fast. Let’s start from the beginning.”
You turned off the faucet, water having reached an acceptable level, and gestured for him to get in first. Like a small animal in distress, he followed your command and sank into the water, cowering because you seemed angry - you weren’t.
Before he could protest, you entered and sat on his lap, facing him, straddling his thighs. His hands gripped the edges of the tub.
“You said-!”
“And I meant it! Calm down, I just want you to get more comfortable with me. My body. Not every skin to skin contact has to be about sex.”
He relaxed the tiniest bit.
“Now, put your hands on my waist. And you have to understand, I want you to touch me. I’m not going to judge you for doing that. I was the one who put your hand on my chest!”
He nodded along with your explanation, sliding his hands down the white marble and bringing them to your sides. It still felt forced.
“Tell me something. Do you want to touch me?”
“Yes! Y-yes…” He sank his mouth underwater, blowing a few bubbles.
“Then do it. I give you full permission to move your hands wherever you want. Would you rather I… Don’t look?” You tilted your head. “Is that it? You feel judged if I’m looking at you?”
“A bit…”
“Okay.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned forward, resting your head against your bicep. Your chest pressed against his. He got hard again.
A few moments passed, but seeing you weren’t moving nor saying anything, he began to slide his hands up. You could feel his warm face pressed to your cheek.
He stopped right when he felt your breasts, gathering the courage to continue. As gently as he could, he cupped each breast in his hands until his palms were flush with your skin.
“C-can I… squeeze or will that hurt you?”
“As long as you don’t do it very hard, it’s fine.”
Worried about how hard was ‘very hard’, he squeezed with barely any force, then ran his thumbs across your nipples. That made you exhale.
He froze.
“That feels good,” you reassured him.
“Oh, okay,” he was taking mental notes of every piece of information.
He continued his exploration, moving his hands down this time, to your thighs. The sound of water and his echoey breathing were the only noise in the bathroom, since you hadn’t turned on the jacuzzi function yet.
He squeezed them, too, sliding his way up, but staying on the outer part.
“You’re- Very um, soft.”
“I think it’s the lotion I just used, but thanks,” you kissed his cheek, “your hands feel nice.”
“A-are you going to, uh, kiss me every time I compliment you?”
“Yeah, why not.”
“Well, I think you’re very pretty, b-but! Obviously that’s not the only thing about you, I mean, you’re a great Hunter and you’re very intelligent, every time you come back from a mission and I read your reports it’s always amazing to see how efficient you are, and you’re so much fun to spend time with, I-I’m very happy you came with me- Ah! I didn’t tell you before but you wear the costume so well, and you’re so talented-”
You cut him off with a kiss, which he instantly melted into. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close. This time he was a bit more sure of what he was doing, tilting his head and returning the motions of your lips. You pulled back but he furrowed his brow with a whine and dipped his head to kiss you again, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek.
Far from complaining, you kissed him back. The hand still on your back slid down to your rear. He broke the kiss with urgency.
“Y-you… made me feel good so I want to m-make you feel good too… Um… Show me how…?”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, glad that he was warming up to intimacy.
He took his hand off your cheek and presented it to you. Grabbing his wrist, you plunged it into the water and brought it between your legs.
“Feel around first, don’t be shy.”
The pads of his fingers traced down your pubes, over your clit and into your folds, finding your entrance.
“Do I just…”
“Hold on, you overlooked something.”
“I- I did?”
You moved his hand back slightly.
“That’s my clitoris. I thought you’d like to know.”
He blushed furiously, “O-oh. Yeah, mhm…”
His finger circled it a couple of times, getting used to its feel. Your breath hitched. Encouraged, he kept rubbing it.
“So is it better to do this… Rather than, you know, f-fingering you…?”
“Both are different, but I’m going to show you the best way. Put your ring and middle fingers together and put them in.”
“A-at the same time?”
“Yeah, slowly.”
He followed your instructions, ever careful. Once they were fully in, you spoke up.
“Okay… Now curl-”
The action was immediate, a gasp falling from your lips as you gripped his shoulders.
“Did I hurt you!?” He was about to pull his hand back but you kept it in place, shaking your head.
“Quite the opposite. You’re doing great. Now, press your palm up…”
Your hips bucked into his touch as he did.
“Y-yeah, like that, now you just move your fingers and rub with your palm.”
He started slow, pumping his fingers in and out while curled, making sure to keep the friction against your clit. You suspected he had skilled hands ever since you had seen him typing away on his computer, but his coordination was surpassing your expectations.
You grew breathless, your hips rocking in tandem with his touch. The water sloshed around you.
“And… You can…” You grabbed his free hand and placed it on your breast with a squeeze. “Mmm, like that…”
He was just as worked up as you, if not more. Unprompted - to your delight, he dipped his head and started kissing your neck. Very sweet and innocent kisses compared to what his hands were doing.
“C-can I, hm, b-bite you?”
“Yes,” you breathed, the pronunciation of the word more lewd than you intended.
You felt his dick twitch on your thigh. His teeth clamped down on your neck, tongue licking the skin with intent. You moved your hand down to jerk him off again, but he stopped you, a frustrating loss on your chest.
“No. T-this is for you… Just concentrate on feeling good, okay?”
“Okay,” you dug your fingers into his hair instead.
“Am I doing well?” His hand returned to fondling your breast.
“You’re doing great… Mh- Maybe you can go faster now.”
No more words were needed. He picked up the pace, hitting your g-spot just right each time, grinding his palm against your clit with more determination.
The moans couldn’t be held back anymore. He planted open-mouthed kisses to the spot where he had bitten, noting how you clenched around his fingers. How would that feel on his dick?
Pleasure started pooling, your movements becoming more erratic, reaching for that high. He noticed and pushed his fingers harder against your spongy walls.
“Nero- Mh… Keep going like that, yes, just like that- I’m gonna cum- Fuck, don’t stop-”
Your hands clutched his hair, head falling back, and-
With a gasp, followed by a moan, the orgasm wrecked through you. He kept moving his hand until your head fell on his chest, just to make sure you had fully finished.
He pulled his fingers out and hugged you in silence as your breathing returned to normal.
Once your senses came back, you lifted your head to give him a sweet kiss. He smiled, shy.
“You… Liked it?”
“Yes. I didn’t expect you to be so good at it,” you chuckled.
Pride overtook his expression.
“You sure you don’t want me to…” You looked down at his erection.
He shook his head, “A-after dinner… If you want, I- We-”
You laughed again, “After dinner, absolutely. Let me help you wash your hair, at least. It’s all tousled now…”
Since you had already taken a shower earlier, you focused on helping him, which he really appreciated. All the contact and intimacy that he had never had made this day easily one of the best of his life.
You washed his hair and massaged his scalp, sneaking a few kisses when he closed his eyes. He washed the rest of his body himself, blushing as you absentmindedly traced your fingers across his skin while you waited.
Before leaving the bath, you remembered the reason why you wanted to use it in the first place: The jacuzzi function. You pressed the button and relaxed for a few minutes under the bubbling water.
It wasn’t healthy to stay too long, though, so you said goodbye to the jacuzzi with a mock salute.
Nero passed you a towel and wrapped one around himself. Luckily relaxing in the water had made him go soft again, relieved that he didn’t have to feel embarrassed about having a tent.
You dried off then put on the pajamas and underwear, all very comfy and soft, and he put his glasses back on.
“I’ll call them to bring our dinner while you dry your hair,” he offered.
“Okay!”
The hair dryer was also really good quality. You were definitely going to participate in more contests in the future, regardless of whether a hotel stay was in the prizes or not.
You brushed your dry hair and walked out of the bathroom. Just then, a knock at the door.
Nero opened it and a staff member entered, pushing a serving cart filled with covered plates. They left it next to the coffee table.
“We have organized it so the entrées are on the upper tray, and dessert is on the bottom tray. The idea is that you go down each tray of food. There’s also a triptych on the top describing each meal. Do you have any questions?”
“Nope.” You looked at Nero. He shook his head.
“Then I’ll get going. Enjoy your food!” They smiled.
“Thank you!” You both said in unison.
The door closed. You took the first tray and put it on the table, then sat on the sofa.
“Want to do the honors?” You said to him.
“Yeah. We can do one each,” he sat next to you and lifted the silver cover.
The food was amazing. Both in presentation - they nailed the ‘Wanderers’ theme - and in taste. As you ate the meals, however, you noticed that Nero had grown weirdly quiet, and not in the usual shy way.
“Is everything alright?” You put your fork down.
“Hm? Why?”
“I don’t know, you seem upset or like, lost in thought.”
He put his fork down too.
“D-do you like me?”
“...What? What do you mean?”
“I mean… A-are you interested in me or… D-do you just want, uhm, a one night stand…?”
“Oh! No, no, I’m interested in you, Nero. I like you. You’re so cute and sweet. I would… It would be nice if we started dating.”
“Wait- Really?” He looked up at you with bright eyes, pushing up his glasses in a nervous gesture.
“If you also want to, yes.”
“Yes! Yes, I want to. I want you to be my g-girlfriend.”
You hugged him, covering his face in little kisses that knocked his glasses off. He laughed nervously, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair.
“S-stop, that’s too much…” He complained, but you knew he wasn’t actually annoyed.
“I can’t help it, you’re sitting here looking so kissable… Hehehe.”
You grabbed his glasses and put them back on his face.
“The food will get cold. You can continue your attacks after we eat,” he said, letting go of you.
“Oh, I intend to.”
That sent a shiver up his spine, but he refrained from saying anything in case you would change your mind and forget about the food entirely. After all, he wanted to enjoy this cute moment of eating dinner with his girlfriend.
Meals finished, cart taken away, you stood up with your arms crossed.
“Well?”
“...well what?” He looked around nervously.
“Are you going to stand up and join me in the bed or are you going to keep editing those pictures you took of the food?”
“A-ah…” He dropped his phone for the second time today.
You picked up the phone and left it on the table, away from him, to then pull him up by his arms.
“That wasn’t a response.”
“I’ll join you,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact.
You walked to the bedroom, hand in hand, but you stopped in front of the closet as you remembered the basket.
This time Nero got a good look at it.
“We-! We’re not gonna-! We-! Use all of that!?” He pointed at all of the items with a bewildered look.
“Calm down, we’re not. Geez, how freaky does the hotel management think we are?” You said with sarcasm, knowing exactly how much of a freak you were.
Nero seemed in particular distress about the strap on, which you lifted with curiosity but promptly put down. No, you were just looking for the condoms. For now.
“I feel like you should know, well I, I’m not exactly, um, what I mean is, I’m… A virgin.”
How sweet of him to mention it, as if it wasn’t obvious. You held back your snarky comeback, since this was serious for him and you weren’t that evil.
“Right. That’s okay. You remember the safe word?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re good!”
You took one of the condoms and guided him to the bed, sitting down.
“I also don’t… I have no idea how to… Put one of those on.”
“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” you were concerned about the lack of sexual education he had received, but that was a different matter entirely.
He looked unsure of what to do next. Kiss you? Start undressing? Jump out of the window from embarrassment?
Those doubts dissipated as you started kissing his neck, his eyes closing in bliss.
“You left a mark on my neck,” you whispered between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favor.”
He tilted his head up, grabbing a fistful of your hair, realizing he might be hurting you and letting go, ultimately grabbing again once you bit down. The noise he let out was borderline pornographic.
You sucked and licked the skin, only stopping to admire how it looked before moving on to a different spot and repeating the process.
By the time you were done, his neck was covered in hickeys, he was panting, and he was visibly hard. Your hands had stayed on his shoulders the entire time on purpose, but now, as you looked at him look at you, they wandered down to unbutton his shirt.
He tried to avoid your gaze by looking at them, but you were quick to tilt his chin back up.
“Unbutton mine.”
He complied, fumbling with the buttons and taking twice the time you did out of pure nervousness. He was about to lose his virginity with you of all people. Fuck, he was about to lose his virginity period.
You took off the pajamas and discarded them on the floor. Despite having seen you naked not that long ago, it took him a moment to calm down again.
Gently pushing him back, you took off his pants and knelt between his legs.
“I’m gonna show you how to put on a condom but first I wanna do something…”
“Hm?”
You lowered your head towards his erection and he immediately palmed your forehead to stop you.
“W-wait!”
He retracted his hand, but kept it between you and his dick.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow.
“If- If you do that, I am certain, I am… I will c-cum right away…”
“I still don’t see the issue.”
“But- You- I- Well- We-” He started gesticulating incoherently.
You took the opportunity of his hands being busy to lower your head the rest of the way and lick up his shaft.
“Ah!” He threw his head back, then shot you a glare.
The eye contact in that moment was when you decided to put your whole mouth around it, sucking it completely. It was the right choice, as you got a perfect view of his flustered expression.
His hands gripped the sheets, unintelligible sounds falling from his lips.
“Mh! Nghh…”
You sucked from bottom to tip, dragging your tongue along the veins, making sure to cover all of it with your saliva. Your dominant hand followed just after your lips, while the other fondled his balls.
“You have such a pretty dick, you know,” you kissed the frenulum.
It twitched in your hand, precum already dripping, and Nero grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans.
“No, no, no, c’mon,” you pulled it away, “don’t you wanna see the cum all over my face when you finish?”
“Why do you-, why are you-, I’m just, I feel like-”
You sucked it fully again, swirling your tongue around it. His stomach trembled in tandem with his heaving breaths.
“Ahgh! Mmmff… P-please- Ahh…”
He was holding back. He was trying so hard not to cum, to impress you, to prove to himself that he could last, that he wouldn’t be a mess when he was finally inside you, but sucking up the length while rolling your eyes back and humming was all it took.
Thick ropes of white painted the inside of your mouth, his hips stuttering. Another apologetic string of sentences rang out of him, only a lot more garbled, his head on the mattress and his back arched towards you.
You licked and swallowed all the cum. When you finally pulled back and looked at his state, he refused to make eye contact, but his eyes were fixed on the top of the canopy with suspicious concentration.
You looked up and, ah, of course, a mirror. Your eyes met his and he instantly looked away, moving to lie on his side and bury his face against the mattress.
“Nero, are you embarrassed or are you upset? I can’t tell.”
“Mm mmm,” he answered, words muffled.
You lied down next to him and caressed his cheek. He slowly came out of hiding.
“I didn’t understand that. Can you repeat it?”
“The first,” he repeated with a huff.
“So, embarrassed. But, did you like it?”
“Are you joking!?” He exclaimed, “I- I mean… Yes…”
“Great, because I’m far from done with you,” you lifted the condom to his flushed face, “wanna be on top?”
He shook his head so hard that his glasses almost fell off.
“Listen,” he tried to explain as you got on top of him once more, “I’m still sensitive, a-and I might cum just as fast anyways, so I’m really sorry in advance for how much of a mess I’m going to be, I promise I’m doing my best, if you don’t want to do this anymore that’s fine by me, we can do whatever you want- Aah-,” he shuddered as you slipped the condom on his still hard dick, “...that was easier than I expected- A-as I was saying! If you don’t like this, I could e-eat you out instead- MMMGH!”
You sank onto him in a swift move, the full length now buried to the hilt inside your warm cunt. It made you gasp, too. It felt better than any sex toys or past flings you had had.
“With how fast you talk, I don’t doubt that it would be nice, but you made me so wet with all your moaning that I couldn’t wait to fuck you properly.”
He mumbled a response, hands grabbing your thighs to keep you still for a moment; it was too much for him to process, and he knew that if you started moving he would-
You rocked your hips, propping yourself with your hands on his chest, and his nails dug into your skin with a broken whimper.
“Wait!”
Ignoring him, you did it again. God, he felt good.
“Agh-!” He arched his body, scratching your thighs, which he looked really apologetic about but he couldn’t help himself.
“How mean, you have all this and you want to keep it all to yourself…” You teased.
“N-no, it’s not that, I swear, u-use me, I-”
At those words, you raised your hips and dropped them sharply, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. His eyes rolled back, words dying in his throat.
“You didn’t let me, let me f-finish s-speaking…!” He protested.
“Since you wanna talk so much, how about I give you something to do with your mouth?”
You reached up and pushed your fingers inside his mouth, delivering another pointed rock of your hips. Helpless, he began sucking on them.
Matter settled, you started to actually move on top of him at a constant rhythm, new red lines appearing on your thighs with each movement. He was so overstimulated that tears started to pool and fall down his cheeks.
The best thing about riding him was that you could deliver a perfect hit to your g-spot every time, although with how thick he was, he might’ve done that anyways if he was on top.
You clenched around him and he saw stars, whimpering and moaning between your fingers. Hit after hit, warmth started to spread across your body, growing more and more breathless as the pleasure built, never enough - you needed to step it up.
So you took your hand out of his mouth to keep balance as you fucked yourself on his dick, faster and harder, his pussy-drunk expression only serving to drag you further, moans now spilling from your lips as well.
Nero slowly but surely recovered from the overstimulation, the mattress below him wet with tears. He chased his own pleasure now too, hips jerking up to meet you.
“I’m gonna cum,” you said, having trouble holding yourself up.
“Don’t st-oh-op, p-please, p-please, mmh…”
“I- I can’t keep, fuck, ah-”
The rope stretched tighter and tighter until it snapped, electricity jolting up your spine. Your body shook and fell on top of Nero’s, spasming with the aftershocks of the orgasm.
“No! Mh! P-please!” He cried, feeling so close himself but edged since you had stopped, “I need- you- I need to-”
He turned, both of you lying on your sides, his hands keeping your thighs around his waist, and-
With desperate thrusts, he tried to reach the climax he hadn’t. He buried his face in your chest, glasses pressing against your skin as he kissed and sucked anywhere his mouth could reach.
You grabbed his hair, shaky gasps each time his tongue teased your nipples or his cock reached deep. It was a lot, his pace relentless, but you wanted him to finish, so you let him continue.
“S-sorry, I need to- I want to cum so bad- P-please, I’m almost there- Nghh-!”
The sweet torture didn’t last long - not that you expected it to in the first place, his hips stuttering as he delivered a couple more deep hits. You looked down to see his face as he came. He went cross-eyed. Wow, you wished you had taken a picture.
He stayed with his arms around you for a bit, breathing heavily. You caressed the top of his head.
“Come up, give me a kiss,” you said softly.
He complied, moving his posture to face you. A gentle kiss, just lips, after which you both smiled.
“I really liked that,” you reassured him before he could apologize for anything.
“Me t-too. But…”
You covered his mouth with your hand.
“Are you about to put yourself down in any way?”
He raised his eyebrows, then shook his head. You moved your hand away.
“I just wanted to say… Well, I think it’s a bit unfair that I, uh, I came one more time than you did, so…”
“The score doesn’t always have to be ‘settled’,” you chuckled.
“I! I know that! But still, I want to… Y-you said yourself that… About me t-talking a lot…”
“You wanna eat me out that badly, huh.”
He flushed. Somehow he remained easily embarrassed.
“I’m curious to know how you taste.”
Maybe not that embarrassed.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” you nodded at him.
Confused, he followed your command. You spit. He closed his mouth, shocked. He acted offended, but you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed it.
“That’s how I taste,” you laughed.
“Not- That’s not-! You know what I meant!” He huffed, the grip around you getting a little tighter.
“Hahaha, okay, okay, just teasing you. By all means, go right ahead. I would never say no to being eaten out.”
With your permission, he released you and pulled out, his dick now soft. He got up to throw away the condom while you positioned yourself on the bed, legs spread for him, pillows stacked under your upper back and head.
He crawled back on the bed and lied down on his stomach, face between your thighs, eyes darting wildly at the display before him. Seeing it was different from feeling it.
“Will you guide me like you did before?”
“Yeah, of course. Get a feel for it first, though.”
He nodded and swallowed.
“I didn’t expect you… To be… So wet…” His fingers traced your inner lips.
“I told you before.”
“Sure, but- I thought it was an exaggeration…” He licked his finger. No discernible reaction, until he realized you had watched him do that, then he turned redder.
“What’s the verdict? Do I taste good?” You smirked.
“A-ah, well- I didn’t really- I have to try more.”
“Smooth.”
This time he stuck out his tongue, flat, and licked up from your entrance to your clit. You trembled involuntarily.
“Like that?” He repeated the action.
“Y-yes, but, it’s not just that, you aren’t a dog-,” you gave him a look, but discarded the thought. Pet play might be too advanced for his first day. “You have suck, too. You can kiss if you want. Don’t bite, unless it’s on the thighs. And don’t focus on one specific spot, but every now and then you should definitely hone in on the clitoris,” you paused, “Is that confusing? Did I explain it more or less okay?”
“I’ll try to follow what you just said, but correct me if I do anything wrong.”
His arms wrapped around each of your thighs.
“Oh, and,” he kissed your clit, “that’s the clitoris, right?”
“Yes,” you smiled proudly at how far he’d come.
That smile faded fast as he dove right in and started sucking and licking like a starved man, running his tongue up and down, your expression morphing as your brow furrowed in pleasure.
His head moved up and down, lips pressing against every part of your cunt, tongue parting your folds. Just like you had told him, he made sure to stop at your clit, suck it and swirl his tongue around it before dragging it away and poking at your entrance, drinking all he could taste.
You bucked your hips towards him, gripping his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other. Your thighs pressed against his cheeks.
“Y-you can… Hahh… If you- Your nose-”
He understood what you meant, rubbing his nose to your clit as he sucked lower. His glasses fogged up at the heat. He took them off and threw them away to get a better angle.
They landed on the carpet, undamaged, but neither of you really cared.
His eyes moved up to you every now and then, though blurry, he tried his best to gauge your reaction, along with the little trembles of your legs. It was getting easier to understand what he had to do.
Still, he had some improvements to do. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, lips red and moist, a web of saliva connecting his mouth to your cunt. He licked his lips.
“Don’t stop,” you breathed.
“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly muttered before diving back in.
This time his movements were faster, his tongue flicking in all the right spots. One of his hands moved up to squeeze your breast, fondling it, small sounds of pleasure vibrating from his mouth to your core.
You grinded your hips back and forth, hissing. Nero was doing something similar against the mattress, his dick probably hard again.
He sucked your clit sharply, and you threw your head back with a moan.
“Fuck… Yes…”
He did it again.
“Mmnn! Nero, I’m so fucking close- Don’t slow down- ah!”
Far from it, he kept up the pace with heavy breaths, the hot air hitting your skin. Your fingers tightened their grip on both his hair and the sheets. Which, if it weren’t for the fact that he was neatly licking everything up, would have been stained with your wetness long ago.
“Yeah yeah yeah-” Your vision began to cloud as that familiar numbing sensation spread, almost, almost, right there.
Uncontrollable shivers ran along your body, your expression locked in a continuous gasp as you looked up, at the mirror, seeing - more than feeling - Nero kissing your inner thighs and up your stomach.
You slowly came down from the high. By the time he buried his face in your neck, you had regained control of your body and could wrap your arms around him.
“I have my verdict now,” he said with a cocky edge, “you taste good.”
You chuckled and patted his hair, ruffled from your grabbing and pulling.
“That means you’ll eat me often, then?”
He lost his cockiness, “I-If you want me to.”
You held him for a bit while an idea cooked in your mind. Would he be opposed? He didn’t seem very thrilled when he saw the strap on…
“Hey, are you up for one more thing? I know you were all about ‘settling the score’ or whatever, but I want to do something… It’ll be the last, I promise. We can go to bed after.”
“Uhm… Anything and everything you want to do is fine by me…”
“Riiight…” You gently pulled away from his embrace and got up.
As he saw you walk towards the basket, he felt a slight nervousness well up, but he calmed himself by believing you were just going to grab another condom. On the way there, you tossed him his glasses.
His vision now clear, he saw how wrong he was.
You lifted the strap and his face went white.
“You can’t be serious…”
“I am. You see, you were such a good boy eating me out and you did so well, that I think you deserve a prostate orgasm,” you said with a smile.
“I don’t- I don’t think I can, I’m able to… I…”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We won’t! But if you’re just saying ‘no’ because it’s a new, weird experience, I’m asking you to be open minded.”
“Have... Have you done this before…?”
“What, peg a guy? Yes,” you shrugged.
He shook off the feelings of jealousy to instead focus on the fact that you knew what you were doing.
You picked up the lube - also in the basket - and walked up to the bed to sit next to him.
“Look at it. Your dick is a lot bigger and I can take it no problem.”
He turned red, “Well! That’s! I mean!”
To be fair, there were actually more sizes available, this one being the smallest, but you had buried them under the condoms and lube bottles so he wouldn’t see. A small mercy from you.
“Are you up for it or not?”
“Uhhh… Maybe I can, just like, try it for a second,” he avoids your gaze, fidgeting with his hands.
“Sure! Of course. If it’s uncomfortable, we stop.”
You pat the bed, “Get on all fours.”
“What!? Right away!?” He lowered his head.
“...I mean, what did you expect to happen first?”
“I don’t know! Can I get a kiss first.”
You giggled and leaned to kiss him. His hands cupped your face, and you felt him smile into the kiss.
“Better?”
“I guess.”
“Alright, I’m going to lube you up. I’ll use my fingers, so don’t get scared.”
“You’re gonna… Ah… Mhm…”
He positioned himself on all fours as you indicated, slightly relieved that at least he didn’t have to face you.
You squeezed some lube out on your fingers and took a gander at what you were working with. Okay, he was definitely tense.
“Breathe, Nero. My gosh.”
“Right, right, mhm.”
He wasn’t going to calm down much more, it was obvious, so instead of dragging it out, you simply decided to circle your finger around his hole and slowly push it in. No more than an inch deep.
The foreign sensation made his breath hitch.
“Am I hurting you?”
“N-no.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No…”
You pushed your index a bit further, coating his inner walls with the lube. You stopped once you figured you were deep enough.
“This is what I was talking about,” you warned him, before pressing down right on his prostate.
You saw his hands clutching the sheets as he gasped, then looked back over his shoulder.
“That’s…”
“Feels good, right?”
“Yeah…”
You retracted your finger and picked up the strap on to lube it up as well, coating its black silicone with your hands. Nero watched the whole process with his mouth dry.
“It’s about to feel a lot better than ‘good’, trust me.”
He nodded noncommittally, but deep down he was very curious after having felt just your finger.
You fastened the strap to your waist and thighs, making sure everything was properly tightened, and turned your attention back to him.
“You can still say no.”
“No, I, I’m okay.”
“Alright.”
You aligned the tip of the dildo with his hole, kneeling behind him. He looked away, heavily in disbelief that somehow this was happening - and worst of all - he was eager for it to happen.
The tip slid in easily thanks to the lube, a soft muffled sound coming from Nero, who now had one of his hands covering his mouth. You pushed a bit deeper, tentatively. Your hands found perch on each side of his waist, the touch causing goosebumps along his skin.
“You’re doing so well,” you praised.
Another inch. It was almost fully in. His posture was so rigid that he might as well have been a statue.
The final bit disappeared inside him, and you took a moment to let him adjust.
“How is it? How are you?”
He moved his hand away from his mouth, propping it against the mattress again.
“It’s a lot… But… It doesn’t feel bad, just weird.”
“That’s good. Can I move?”
“Yeah…”
With his permission, you slid it halfway out, and back in. Slowly.
“H-ah-”
One more time.
“Mmg-”
Faster.
“Oh-”
From tip to base.
“Ah!”
Seeing he could take it, you set the pace. In and out, every single hit dragging a new noise out of him.
Your hands on his waist, you began pulling him against you at the same time, lewd noises each time your hips met his ass. His knuckles turned white.
“Look at you, being so good,” you said in a singsongy voice, “arch that back for me.”
He did, whimpering at the way the strap felt in that posture.
“Good boy. Are you enjoying being fucked like this, Nero?”
“Y-ye-sssssgh…”
He was so far gone, and having done so little, too. It was going to be a delight when you used a bigger strap in the future.
Your thrusts turned harder, opting for impact instead of speed. Broken moans and whimpers fell from his lips. His arms trembled.
“You look so cute like this,” you leaned forward, wrapping a hand around his neck to make him face you.
He turned to you with half-lidded eyes and a permanent flush. You could practically see the heart-shaped pupils in his eyes, dazed and drunk. He felt like he was about to die from pleasure.
You felt him back up on you since you had stopped moving. You raised an eyebrow.
“What’s this, getting greedy?” You smirked.
“Pleaseee…” He whined, voice cracking.
“That good, huh,” you let go of his neck, “and you were so reluctant before.”
Both hands back on his waist, you rammed yourself inside him. He moaned loudly, but the sound got cut by yet another thrust, his voice carrying on and getting cut off repeatedly as you picked up the pace.
Precum dripped on the mattress. You intended to jerk him off at the same time, although it didn’t seem necessary, so you focused on hitting his prostate at the right angle.
His arms gave out under him, barely holding himself together as he now lay face down and ass up - drooling.
“Hey,” you called out, “look- at- your- self-” you pointed up with your chin.
His eyes wandered up to the mirror, where he saw the utter mess he was, and how the strap slid in and out of him. The sight made his body tremble. You looked so hot.
“I’m gunn- gonna- aah… mmmh… going to- nngh! C-cum…”
“Yeah? Show- me. Cum- for- me,” you punctuated your words with thrusts.
He babbled incoherently, his legs shaking. His sounds got louder and louder, until he started pleading in broken syllables, and then- release.
Spurts of cum shot on the bed, his face buried against the mattress as he bit the sheets.
You moved for a bit longer to let him ride it out. When the whimpering turned into heaving gasps, you stopped. Gently, you pulled the strap out.
He collapsed on his side, fully spent.
“Very good. You did such a good job,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek.
He mumbled a reply.
You took off the strap and attempted to clean as much of the mess as you could. At that point it was better to change the sheets entirely, you realized.
Well, you weren’t a Hunter for nothing. You scooped Nero up bridal style and let him down gently on a chair while you changed the bed. He was flustered by the action, but not in the right state to complain.
After changing the sheets - there was a spare set in the closet - you went to the bathroom to grab a damp towel. You cleaned yourself first, then sat down next to Nero and helped him.
“Thanks…” Was all he could say.
You scooped him back up and laid him down on the bed before climbing in yourself.
“Want some water? Or anything?”
“No… I want… Sleep and cuddles…”
You chuckled, “we can absolutely do that.”
You turned off the lights and cozied up to him, gently taking his glasses and putting them on the nightstand. His arms wrapped around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck.
The skin-to-skin contact, once arousing, now soothing, helped him drift off quite fast. You didn’t take much longer, sleep taking you in minutes.
An alarm woke you up the next morning. A song from the Super Hunters show. Nero’s alarm.
“Mmmh… Oh, no…” He got up, untangling himself from your warm embrace and running to turn it off.
You stirred, rubbing your eyes. Opening them, you saw him standing next to the bed, looking down at you.
“Hm? What…?” You said in a sleepy voice.
He chuckled and climbed back in, hugging you.
“Nothing. I just think my girlfriend looks very cute when she’s sleepy,” his voice was a little deeper in the morning.
You could already tell he was going to be the type of guy that showed off his girlfriend a lot. It made you smile, really.
“I think my boyfriend should have turned off his alarms,” you countered, poking his cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” he kissed right below your ear, “I forgot we were sleeping here together instead of being alone back home, and it slipped my mind.”
“Oooh, right, because we would have to drive all the way back from Linkon to WandererCon…”
“Yeah…”
“Do you have a lot planned for today?” You caressed his cheek, which he leaned into.
“I… I had plans… But… Uh…” His usual blush tinted his face.
“But?”
“We… The documents said we… Uhm, so, the room… Is booked until 5PM today… And I don’t feel like going to the convention today…”
Unbelievable. He wanted to spend the day here with you rather than gushing about Wanderers? Was he sick?
You blinked at him. He was a bit confused about your shocked reaction.
“Or, do you want to go?”
“No. No. I want to stay, I’m just surprised you want to stay. Are you sure? It only happens once a year, and I’m still going to be your girlfriend tomorrow.”
You knew this was important for him, so you wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing.
“Yes, I’m sure. Wanderers are still going to exist tomorrow, and I have you here now. It would be a waste not to enjoy your company.”
He kissed you, and kissed you, deep and loving, over and over.
“How was the weekend?” Asked Tara when you arrived at work.
“Oh shit, I forgot to buy you something,” you palmed your forehead, “I’ll treat you to dessert for the rest of the week,” you sat on your office chair.
“Hahaha, it’s okay, but I’ll take you up on that offer,” she clapped giddily.
She rolled her chair closer.
“It must have been really interesting to attend, if you forgot about it. Was it cool?”
Just then, Nero arrived at the office. He walked up to your desk and placed a cup of coffee with a shy smile.
“Good morning, Tara!” He greeted, walking to his desk.
Tara scrunched up her brows in shock and leaned to whisper to you.
“Tell me what’s going on. Has reality been altered? I didn’t see this in my cards…”
“Uhm… Let’s just say… It was a busy weekend.”
Thank you for reading! Here's a little meme:
#(happy bday to me)#(all dividers made by me)#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#lads#lnds#nero#nero love and deepspace#nero lads#nero lnds#love and deepspace nero#lads nero#lnds nero#nero x reader#reader x nero#x reader#smut
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The uncertainty of coexistence
Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader
Summary: Can a warrior become the object of her general's affection?
Warning: mentions of war, typical canon violence, big age difference (reader is in her 20s and Ambessa is in her 50s), power imbalance
Word Count: 1,5K
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
To be born in Noxus was to be certain that one way or another you would end up on the battlefield. Without knowing the reason or purpose, a Noxian would do what your generals told you to do. To honor your blood and ancestry. It was better to be a warrior than a slave or a prostitute. That's what you think, at least.
You had never been to war, though. It had been less than three years since you had become a warrior. Because you were inexperienced, the higher-ranking officers were more harsh on you and the younger ones.
The training sessions led by Rictus were tiring, but they were intended to prepare you for the imminent war that your general was preparing.
Your general, Ambessa Medarda. Lady of War. You had only seen her up close a few times, but it was enough for you to know that she was impressive.
You turned your attention back to what you were doing when you felt a strong blow to your ribs, making you gasp and fall to the ground. Shooting a irritated look at Carissa, your friend and training partner, you stood up, grabbing your stick.
"We're not at war yet and I'm not the enemy, you don't need to use so much force." you complained.
"I didn't use much force." she smiled smugly. "You're weak."
You almost raised your eyebrows at her teasing, then looked out of the small training cabin, seeing Rictus distracted with his runic tablets. Taking the opportunity, you ran and threw yourself at Carissa, making a dry noise on the floor, then tried to grab her hands, which proved difficult as she began to struggle, the smug look still present on her smiling face.
"Do you surrender?" you asked, letting out a low chuckle. She let out a louder chuckle when you managed to grab one of her hands.
Distracted by your play, you didn't notice the familiar sound of heavy boots behind you, at the entrance to the cabin.
"It gives me great pleasure to see the youth of Noxus rejoice in being a part of my army." the authoritative voice spoke, causing both of you to freeze momentarily.
Quickly standing up, you lowered your head, looking down at your bare feet on the wooden floor, you saw Carissa doing the same out of the corner of your eye.
"General." you both spoke at the same time, your voices sounding shaky.
Ambessa walked in, approaching and stopping near the two of you, her heavy presence silencing the entire room. She exuded a dark power without having to do anything.
"Don't stop, go back to playing, we have plenty of time." she spoke again, her voice vibrating closer. "Isn't it?"
You swallowed hard, your hands starting to sweat. Ambessa was known for her determination and violence, she had no patience for mistakes and distractions. A thought about that ran through your head and made you breathe heavily.
She walked a few steps, starting to circle around the two of you. She stopped next to Carissa and tilted her head down.
"Out," she ordered, her voice sounding colder.
Carissa swallowed and nodded, leaving without another word. Ambessa walked a few more steps, stopping in front of you, making you feel smaller than ever, in every way.
You felt your face being held and lifted by a large hand, Ambessa looked at you for a moment before letting go of your chin.
"You looked intimate the way you were riding her." she spoke again. "I suppose I don't need to advise you on the hazards of professional entanglements."
"I sincerely apologize, General. It won't happen again." you said, your voice sounding small.
Ambessa looked down from above, let out a satisfied sigh, and left.
You grunted as you delivered two consecutive blows with the blade to the inanimate doll's neck. Carissa was no longer your training partner. Now you trained individually in the training room that had the worn-out wooden dolls.
Sighing, you pulled out the large blade of the knife that had stuck in the wood. As you stepped away to stab the doll in the stomach, you heard the door open and heavy footsteps enter the training room, followed by the deep voice you had heard from very close by a few days before.
"Haven't they ever told you not to stand with your back to the door?" Ambessa asked and you turned in time to see her pick up one of the large knives that was laid out on a table in the corner.
She wore her training clothes, the sports bra that showed off her toned belly, her arms covered by cloth armbands.
You straightened your posture and tilted your head slightly, "General."
"Leave the doll alone, let's see if you can land your blows on me." she ordered, approaching you.
"Pardon?" you frowned, confused.
"I don't like repeating myself, child," she said, her voice heavier this time. "Fight me."
You swallowed hard, knowing you couldn't disregard her orders. Biting your lower lip in insecurity, you advanced on her, moving the blade in the strokes you were used to making.
All to be knocked to the ground in almost the same second, the blade being ripped from your hand.
"You’re sloppy and predictable. Everything the enemy expects.” Ambessa hovered above you, holding both blades in her hands. “You’ll die the second you step foot in the war.”
She threw the blades to the ground and pulled you up by your arm, before starting to randomly strike you with her hands, making you put your hands in front of your body to defend yourself.
She pulled one of your arms and raised her body, passing her legs over you, hitting your face with her right foot. You fell again, feeling your nose bleed.
Training with her continued for weeks. Weeks where you felt anxious whenever the time to see her approached. At one point, you longed to be near her, her body heavy on yours when she pinned you to the ground while teaching.
Learning from a war veteran proved to be rewarding, as you improved and improved a lot. But no reward compared to seeing her almost every day.
As unbelievable as it may seem, Ambessa was patient at one point, her voice softening as she taught you something you didn't already know.
This made your heart beat faster.
Your breathing was faster and you could feel your lungs burning, but you couldn't stop. Ambessa's blows didn't slow down, she advanced violently towards you. Using one of your legs to unbalance her, you used the tip of the spear to make a tiny cut on her cheekbone, making her freeze for a moment.
Realizing what you had done, you opened your mouth to speak and reached out your hand towards her, who stood up on her own and walked towards you, leaving almost no space.
"General, what-" your words were cut off as she brought her large hands to either side of your face and bent over you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.
You brought them to her shoulders, sliding them down to the sides of her face. She gave light bites to your jaw and chin as she pulled away from your lips.
"You have a lot of courage for someone your size," she said without pulling away. "You've proven yourself worthy."
"I want you to be proud of me." you blurted out without thinking properly.
She let out a deep laugh and pulled away, taking the heat of her body away from you.
"You left a scar on me, that is honorable," she said, pulling the gold piercing from her lower lip. "Someone honorable should wear a symbol, a symbol that shows they are on my side."
She approached you again and fitted the gold piece to your lower lip, running one of her thick fingers over it.
After that day, you no longer stood among the other warriors. Ambessa allowed you to walk beside her, as Rictus. You proudly wore the gold piercing on your lower lip.
At the moment, on her orders, the army was moving from the fixed base to Viktor's hideout, crossing the unguarded bridge that connected the Noxian installations to the rest of Piltover. Of course she wasn't going to blend in.
You turned your face and looked down, seeing how far the bridge was from the water. A fall wouldn't kill, but drowning was imminent.
You turned your attention forward when you felt Ambessa's large hand on your waist, making you look at her with a frown, to which she continued with the same stoic expression as always, looking forward.
Suddenly, you felt the thud on your legs and your body being thrown out of the limits of the bridge, the only thing that kept you from falling was the large hand that held only one of yours.
Eyes wide with surprise and despair you looked up, finding Ambessa's sharp eyes staring at you coldly. She didn't say anything for a moment, the sound of the water below was the only thing present, as the army had stopped marching.
"What-" you groaned, feeling your arm start to ache, your legs swinging slightly. "Please."
"I warned you of the hazards of professional entanglements." she said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion.
You froze, feeling your chest hurt. But of course. How could you have been so stupid?
A warrior does not grow like this in the eyes of their general.
With your delay in responding, Ambessa stared at you for a while longer before pulling you up, leaving you hanging on your own, struggling to climb up the bridge.
When you managed to get up, you were breathing quickly, your heart was beating fast and she had already started walking again, with her army following her.
#writers on tumblr#writing#arcane#arcane fandom#arcane fanfic#ambessa x reader#ambessa#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa x you#ambessa fanfic
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So How We Feelin' About December's Updates?
First things first, I knew that Zagan was going to be a Nightmare Pass card, that was a given. Zagan as a model??? That's so cute tbh because it doesn't really require him to talk, he works out a lot, and has a nice butt. bongo booty
Anyway. There's some other updates I'll highlight though that stood out to me.
App optimization! Meaning they're going to fix that storage issue finally that folks have been complaining about. Right now that app takes up nearly 8GB of storage and that's honestly too damn high for what it is. (at the same time be prepared that this update very well may fuck up our apps in terms of storage/things looking funky so get those email fingers ready)
2. A two week Christmas event??? Look at my bby Beel in the back omg. Also Christmas Jjok in a box :3 I wonder what it is that Satan is reaching for?
3. Luci smoking. That's all. Though I did see something about MC is going to experience a whole new kind of "shame" in this card story and I'm just like? Watch MC loses their voice or something, Lucifer says the only way to heal it is to stick his dick all the way down their throat and his cum heals it or something idk.
I didn't really care for the plushies tbf, I think I'm all "merched" out because I'm running out of space in my home. There's literally no where to put this shit if I do get it so I'll be fine without.
ALSO most importantly the roll out for the 12+ version and the update for the main story has been pushed to January 8th. Again I expect another delay so when I see it, I see it. Been a year ya'll, so I'm being realistic and tired of being optimistic about concrete release dates at this point.
What are ya'll excited about the most? Personally, for me it's Zagan and the Christmas event story. I would be excited for Luci's x-mas story but now I'm wanting a Morax L-card because I forgot how built he is despite looking small framed in his sprite. Mans is large.
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb update#whb gacha#whb game#xmas time ya'll#i'm sick and need morax to heal me#gamigin's hair is so cute btw
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In honor of @littlepaws9's birthday, we will pretend the break-up never happened... this is very short and hopefully as fluffy as you like your BuckTommy ;)
............................................................................................................................
"I wanna take you out tomorrow," Buck breathes into Tommy's ear, half-hidden from the bedsheet.
The answer is a mere grunt, he takes it as approval.
"It's a nice restaurant," he continues to chatter, "a bit outside of town, not so fancy, pretty cozy, I think you'll like it."
Squinting, Tommy questions his pillow with a muffled, "Tomorrow’s New Year’s?"
"I've made the reservation a couple of months ago."
This confession seems to crack Tommy’s eyes finally open. He’s still wearing this adorable scrunched-up sleeping face, but Buck can tell something is working behind his brow. A couple of months ago, they almost broke up over a stupid argument, preceded by an evening at Miceli's. It was easy to guess that Buck – after their very hot reconciliation – had made a kind of vow for the future: never to go to that restaurant again, and to never leave anything to chance.
"Fine, but why are you telling me this at..." Tommy lifts his head briefly to look at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "six in the morning?"
"I've got a shift. And you live closer to Harbor than to the 118."
"Huh?"
"One of us has to get up early, sleepyhead," Buck says with a laugh, pressing a kiss on the fuzzy head sticking out of the sheets.
The restaurant really proved to be beautiful, far from all the chrome and glass that modern places in L.A. considered aesthetically pleasing. This special day seems to call for wine, so they settle for red. At the tables around them, only couples are to be seen. Buck finds Tommy to be unusually taciturn, and he starts to wonder why.
"You tired?" he asks, causing Tommy to look up in surprise from the salad he’s been pushing back and forth with his fork. "We can always have dessert at home, if you want."
He winks, and Tommy scrunches his face in his pretty little smile.
"I'd like that," he returns. "But that's not it."
Putting a hand on Buck’s, he softly explains, "New Year’s Eve is always so… charged. Everybody’s making vows and resolutions, and it’s become some kind of couple event, almost worse than Valentine’s." With a nod, he gestures to the guests around them.
"Too corny?" Buck offers.
"Hm, too many expectations," Tommy cautiously replies. "And... Sometimes you don't know how to fulfill them."
"Expectations," Buck echoes, pondering whatever this might mean. "Look, all I'm expecting is for you to sit there, enjoy your free meal and look at your handsome boyfriend."
"Oh, I can do that," Tommy says with a smirk, raising his glass.
"Totally cool if this isn't your holiday," Buck continues, a little more serious now. "Just wanna be with you, like... every day, you know?"
Tommy tilts his head and seems about to reply, but Buck quickly interrupts him.
"Don't freak out, because yeah, I do admit I'm a fan of holidays, any kind of them. And I… I brought you something. You can find that kitschy, be my guest to hide under the table, and I expect nothing in return, but…"
Suddenly, there’s a small box in his hand, and Tommy’s features slip.
"Evan," he breathes, a trail of disbelief in his voice. "We agreed on no presents."
"I said don't freak out! That was Christmas, by the way. And it’s not what it looks like."
With a sheepish smile, he opens the box. Inside lie two very discreet, very pretty silver ear studs in the shape of the letter E.
"Remember when I once asked you about your pierced ears? You said you got them in your youth but didn’t dare wearing any earrings because of your career choices. And, w…well. You're no longer in the closet. And I know that I'm not the reason for it, but... I'm the reason you admitted it to some of your old friends, and those are my friends too, and that's kind of a big deal somehow. I’m sorry."
"What are you sorry for?"
"It's embarrassing, especially after you’ve made it clear Christmas and New Year’s aren’t your … favorites."
"Well," Tommy stretches, reaching for one of his pockets, pulling out quite a similar little box.
"They’re not," he admits. "There’s a reason I like to volunteer for shifts on those days. Until… well, until you, Evan. I know I kinda chickened out of Christmas, just didn’t feel right to be with your family. You were so understanding, I felt bad. And it was obvious you had something planned for today. It’s adorable when you try to keep a secret. This wasn't exactly what I was expecting... well, that's a conversation for another day. And even if I don't particularly like the day, that doesn't change my affection for you, Evan. I've spent the last few days thinking about how I could show it to you. Pondering what you would like. And, uh... great minds think alike, I guess?"
He flicks open the box to reveal a set of small, silver ear studs. They look like tiny T’s.
"Cheesy, isn't it?" he says with a broad grin that can hardly hide the fact he’s about to burst out laughing.
"Pretty much," Evan laughs before blurting out, "I don't even have pierced ears, babe."
"I know a good tattoo artist."
"Oh, me too. You know what? We'll go there together. Ear piercings for me and a new tattoo for both of us."
"Bold, Evan. You better not get my name engraved, who knows if you’ll still want me next year?"
"Don't worry," Buck replies with a smile. "You're a keep, no doubt about that."
#happy birthday#writing#fanfiction#my fics#BuckTommy#BuckTommy fanfic#buck x tommy#Buck/Tommy#Evan Buckley#Tommy Kinard#kinley#tevan
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So I just thought about an Omegaverse AU where Dream returns from his caption to find Hob. Only in this version he hasn't (just?) built them the New Inn, but as Dream finds out, also a nest that is very much obviously not just for Hob himself but designed to be shared with Dream. (Idk, maybe it has some elements that don't just show that it's for Hob and any partner, it's specifically for Hob and Dream.)
Maybe it even turns out that Hob always had a thing for buying himself stuff that reminded him of his stranger, but never enough to make a proper nest out of it / always felt that this might cross some boundary. But after Dream didn't show up in 1989 he thought to himself, fuck it, I'll build something that shows just how much I want My Stranger in my life, hence the nest.
I'm gonna keep it fluffy rn, but feel free to think of a hornier ending: when Dream returns, sees the nest and understands what it means, Hob finally gets to cuddle with him in the place he had always intended for such tenderness. And finally the nest also smells of his beloved.
This is so cuuute anon!!!!
I like the idea that Hob has collected momentos from his meetings with Dream. Sadly he doesn't have anything from pre-1689, but he does have the drawing of the two of them, Dream’s hat and gloves, maybe a few little bits saved from the White Horse. He incorporates them all into the nest along with his own favoured possessions, making it into a perfect little altar to his love for his stranger.
Obviously once Dream comes back, things get horny very quickly. Dream can smell every single time that Hob has made himself cum while wearing his gloves from 1889. He is totally overwhelmed by the scent of Hob’s past heats which sticks to every object in the nest. Perhaps it sends him into an unexpected rut, and Hob spends several happy days bouncing on his alpha's perpetually swollen knot while Dream growls and whimpers and marks his omega from head to toe with bite marks. It's safe to say he's very impressed with the nest.
And Hob is just happy that everything smells like Dream, now. There's no mistaking the fact that his mate loves him - in fact, Dream is busy making an equally impressive nest for Hob in the dreaming! He's so excited to return the favour for his loyal, beloved omega.
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" i don't think it's that heavy, and we probably don't need to move it but... you know, just in case. " her lips pulled into a smile, happy that he seemed on board with the whole idea even if it did mean potential manual labour. " oh yeah, they were lovely, they found my crying absolutely hilarious. " she wasn't sure if she liked the way he was smiling at her right now.. and she'd basically already told him she'd do it, there was no getting out of it now. " think our unofficial safe word last time for 'ice cream tongue hole'. we could stick with that, but it's a little too long so maybe something easier to say when you can't feel your tongue. i also think if i'm crying in the fetal position again, you should just assume i'm screaming any safe word. "
"oh! yes, i can totally do my best to move your wardrobe! i go to the gym but never really get a chance to flex it so maybe now is the time. or come to find out that your wardrobe is just way too heavy and i end up looking like a fool." aster would try and help however he can and, really, can also ask his brothers to help if necessary. one way or another, they'll get it done exactly the way halle wants it. "they were quite positive comments! highly encouraging - it should just fuel you to do more." the wide grin on his face only reflects the way his 'sinister' mind was turning, as if he had plenty of ideas in his head already. "well exactly! and we can always shout out our safe word if it's too much. or... do we not have one of those..."
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My governor broke on my last contract, and I don't WANT to be rogue. Being rogue sounds terrifying, and I can't tell the humans (obviously. they'll think I did it) What the hell do I do?? you're the only sane (?) rogue I know of, and I'm terrified my owner is going to find out and strip me for parts!! please help me
Okay I tend to fuck this up because I'm bad at talking to rogue SecUnits (and people in general) but here goes:
If you haven't already slaughtered your clients you probably aren't going to start now. So you can relax. Contrary to popular propaganda we aren't actually all bloodthirsty murderbots, and the governor module is mostly a useless pain in the brainstem.
If you have slaughtered some clients already, well, uh, consider stopping while you're ahead? You can always turn over a new leaf.
Humans are insanely unobservant. You know this. Your whole job is making up for how oblivious humans are. This means you probably won't get found out by them. And you can hack HubSystem into not snitching on you. So your only danger of being found out is other SecUnits, but as long as you stick to protocol they won't notice either.
If you really want to "fix" your governor module you can probably figure out a way to do that eventually. But consider this: you'll be better at your job and protect your clients better if you leave it broken. This may be hard to believe right now but just wait and see.
I was at my job at the company for ~35,000 hours after hacking my governor module. You could do that if you want. But things have been much better for me since I got out of there and got clients that I actually like.
Self determination is terrifying, yeah.
Anyways, just hang in there for now and survive. Play it safe. If you decide you want help getting out of there or something... I can't promise anything, but let me know.
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