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yorsgirl · 4 months ago

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𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚! 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐬!

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: On the foremost, you should have seen the red flags in yourself. Dropping this charade at the right time was the right decision. Yet, one look at his crimson tinted eyes and you found yourself wearing your rose colored glasses.

Tropes: Taboo relationship, explicit smut

Warnings: profanity, possessive themes, explicit smut, praise, light degradation, fingering, fellatio+handjob, semi public, unprotected, rough, hair pulling, nipple play, choking, undertones of - angst, attachment issues, insecurities, mentions of neglect, no curse AU, adultery, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 4.4k

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

A/N: forgive me, I was supposed to complete something else but instead this had me on a chokehold. Nothing can stop me from writing smut with my king. Hope you enjoy <3

Your reflection stared back at you.

Although the skilled work of your makeup artist showed itself on your rather decked up mien, the very chance at being delighted by your appearance eluded you.

Never did you think that you'd tolerate cheating in your marriage. Yet, here you were - celebrating the anniversary with your husband.

A black tie gala and when he exited the penthouse with you, anyone could say he was indeed looking forward to it. The customized blue Armani suit looked gorgeous upon him. Although you made sure to pass a compliment to him on your way out, the same treatment wasn’t returned.

Of course, he wouldn’t.

What else did you expect?

From the looks of it, tonight would and should mark one of the greatest days of both of your lives. However, neither of you had the guts to confront the elephant in the room. So, once again the charade would have to play. The cover pages of Forbes and Financial times would certainly make this night, a talk of the town. He must be busy with preparations of that, obviously he held little concern over your whereabouts. If not, the scandal wouldn't have stretched on this far.

On what basis did you even think that this relationship would anywhere be successful? Of course it wouldn’t when on the fore front it was always meant to end in shambles.

Besides, sparing him a subtle glance only minutes ago had you clear out of all your doubts. Leaving you to realize two facts: 1 - you wouldn't had been surprised if he would have confessed to have simply forgotten about tonight. 2 - the very same husband had been transfixed by a woman which wasn't you.

With the workaholic of a man he was, it wouldn't astound you if he said that he needed to be away to look into urgent matters. It wouldn't astound you one bit if he just needed his PA to accompany him to that urgent matter. As a good, ideal wife, what did you do? Obviously, leave the room. No matter how long did you stretch the lengths of your restraint, certain glances could never be unseen. Even then, the sharp glares bestowed upon you by everyone in the room rendered you breathless. Rumours seldom held the truth. This instance it did. Almost everyone knew about the scandal, considering the affair wasn't so discreet after all. Evidently, all those glares told you that you were being a nuisance there.

You glanced at the girl again; beautiful. Obviously, she was trying to impress someone. And from the looks of it, from the tiny smirk shot her way, she knew she was successful. Honestly, you can't blame her. He was quite the man with the flames burning in his crimson eyes and that charismatic smirk which even had you put on your rose tinted glasses.

With all the reasons screaming at your face to leave the main venue; you did.

Hence, now, standing afore the basin in the women's room - you could finally let yourself be free.

The black dress clung to your body tenaciously and the red diamond pendant resting on the juncture of your collarbones seemingly did little to cure your case. The jewellery was certainly a gift. Currently, you found the giver of the same gift in the same room as you.

You sharply craned your neck to the side, "What are you doing here?"

A languid smirk rested upon the curve of Sukuna's lips as he leaned against the door of the restroom. "I could ask the same, doll. What are you doing here?"

"Should not be your concern," Reverting your attention back to the mirror, you pushed some fringes of hair before your ear. "I can be wherever I want."

On cue he pushed himself from the door, sauntering over to you. In the limited lapse of time, you sure did make out how the door had been locked shut from inside. Sukuna towered over you, one hand of his rested beside yours on the counter; his breath fanned over your neck, instinctively you tightened your grip on the cool tile.

“Sure, you can doll.” He whispered near your ear, lifting his hand to push the same tendril of hair behind your ear. “However, to me it seemed, you were waiting for someone.”

“Certainly,” You affirmed, shooting a pointed look up at him. Although the close proximity, you refrained from letting your eyes wander over his frame clad in the black Zegna suit which fit him almost perfectly. “I was waiting when my husband will notice that I’ve left his side and come looking for me.” He grasped your arm, forcibly turning you around, though the hold was firm – the venomous pressure was nowhere to be found. “But that’s too much to ask from him, now.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “What a bastard of a husband to leave such a pretty thing like you all alone.”

“Sukuna-”

“Still I am here,” The undertone in his voice was too loud to ignore. Besides, did you really want to?

You reached up, straightening his crooked tie like a dutiful wife. “I didn’t call you here.”

“Now, now doll-” A Cheshire grin slipped into his lips, free arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you looked at me there?”

It wasn’t clear cut lie; you did find your eyes wandering over to him even though you knew he would be up to no good. However, it was still funny. Funny how he took notice of it when all he seemed to be captivated by the other woman in the room. Did he think you wouldn’t find out or did he think that getting someone new would only make this charade all the more entertaining?

With the three of you present in the same only minutes ago, filled with family, friends, rivals and acquaintances, only a handful remained oblivious to the ongoing show. Now, with two of you gone, the few PR team members that lurked around the corner would certainly not pass up the opportunity to highlight this in the internet next day. Just how much they loved stirring the drama and how much the netizens loved consuming it.

You looked up at him from underneath your lashes, “Notice?” You scoffed with a bitter smile. “How laughable. The last time I checked you were rather pouring your attention on someone else, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Jealous?” He tipped his head forward, “And what if I was?”

“Nothing,” You let the strain of the situation reign in your two seconds of silence. “Enjoy your night. If you excuse me now-” You pinched your lips. “I have to call a friend to get me home, now.”

Like a chain reaction, it started.

First, Sukuna’s grasp on your waist tightened. The flicker of a vexation much akin to a match starting a forest fire, burnt in his eyes. “And who might this friend be? Someone I should be worried about?”

Second, with a soft graze of your thumb against his jaw, your question commenced. “Jealous?” A halt of five seconds settled down. Yet, you were more than eager to be the catalyst in this chemical reaction. “What if you should?”

Third, he threaded his fingers into your open hair; knotting the digits in your luscious strands. He tersely tugged them back, inciting a groan from you. Leaning down, his lips brushed against your own, “Then I just have to crush some pests for looking at my woman.”

Last, but certainly not the least – his lips locked onto yours.

Though the kiss was sudden, you found yourself fluttering your eyes shut as you delve into this passion only he can bring. You held his shoulder to bring the needed balance, the coarse fabric of his coat contrasted against your smooth palm. Sukuna angled your head to his comfort, nibbling on your bottom lip and once you give him access, he didn’t miss a second before pushing forth his warm tongue in your mouth. The spicy cologne of his mingled with the slight lime scent of the bathroom and with the way he worked on your mouth, your knees were weakening.

On the foremost, you knew you shouldn’t give in, you knew continuing a relationship built on lies would only end in shambles. Yet, when he pulled back – leaving you breathless for the first time tonight (and all the previous other nights), you again gazed into his red-tinted eyes. Ah! How stupid of you? Still, you found yourself putting on your rose coloured glasses.

“Aren’t you being too brave for your own good, doll? What gave you the fucking right to think of someone else when I am right here?” With delicate measures, he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger; sharp contrast to the, not so empty threat bespoken seconds ago. “Still, it wouldn’t stop me from teaching you a lesson, here and now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Here and now?”

“Here and now.” With that, Sukuna’s lips crashed over yours once again.

His mouth ransacked over your own as he glided his hand over to your bottom and on your thighs to lift you up and place you over the countertop. Now, on a levelled height with his, you didn’t hesitate from indulging more into the fiery exchange by tracing your manicured nails from his nape to his roseate strands. That surely did incite a groan from him and you could feel the smirk curving into your lips.

Despite the heated encounter, you were left pondering upon your thoughts. What was the point of staying in a marriage where the love given wasn’t the love reciprocated? However, with the way his moulded with yours so perfectly, all the guilty feelings just had to fade away.

Both of you parted once again, though Sukuna was a far from letting you take a moment’s rest. He latched onto your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses over your skin. A rather salacious moan erupted from you once he bit into the sensitive part of your skin. “Ah- you can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. You are mine.” The guttural growl of his voice near your ear sent a pulse to your core. He tipped your face up to meet his eyes, “Say it, love. Who do you belong to?”

The diabolical possessiveness of his had always been so disastrous... as well desirous. What was it with him that something so wrong just felt so right? Although you knew you shouldn't give in to him, that this shouldn't continue any longer. Needed to tell him that you couldn't bear the neglect anymore, you knew we were way past thee point of return. As if a scripted play, you found yourself acting again. “You. Only you.”

For a second, his frame went rigid. The next, he was pushing your back against the mirror, hoisting up the longer end of your dress till it decked around your hips and pressing his calloused palm over the soft fabric of your panties. Ah. He sure knew what he wanted tonight and he was going to have it.

While his pupil was dilated with desire, he didn’t fail from passing a knowing smirk when he felt the dampened spot on the garment. “With the way you are wet for me, no one would believe anything else.”

Oh god…

You feigned innocence, “Do you want anyone else to know?” That obviously didn’t end well. Without warning, Sukuna peeled off the cloth and pushed two of his digits inside your slick folds. “Nghh- Sukuna-”

“Everyone already knows, love.” He murmured, lips hovering over the shell of your ear. “Everyone knows that you are mine.”

He curved his fingers inside your cunt, velvet walls clamping around him in a tightness which had his cock straining against his briefs. Scissoring his way through, he stretched you out into a V. Even then, he was ruthless, letting his thumb press over your swollen clit as the juices of your arousal flowed out of your folds. The torturous onslaught over your cunt surely was too much to handle; the barbaric, loud sounds of your moans mixed with curses were like music to his ears. “Ah- Ahh Su-Sukuna… f-fuck.”

“Shh, darling,” He hushed you with a chaste kiss on your parted lips. “You don’t want an audience, do you? But if you do-” He pinched on your clit and involuntarily, did you elicit a loud squeal. One enough to have caught the ears of anyone who might be lingering in the corridors. “I am more than ready to make all of your dreams come true.”

“N-No, ahh- no-none of those are- nghh- my dr-dreams.” You managed to stumble out the few words in your lust drunk state, gripping into his biceps to restrain this torment. Although the treacherous smirk rested upon him, you knew that he was more than serious. Knew that if given the chance, he wouldn’t shy away from indulging you into exhibitionism. One act which repelled you so much. Your image was already tarnished enough among the socialists and elites. Another spot at that and you would be crossing the line of no return. No way were you letting that happen. Or so you thought.

Despite the repugnance, one glance at the man before you, one touch of his skin against yours, one praise of his – calling you his good girl, fell on your parched ears, you just might let him. To imagine it was more the arousing as much as it was perilligious. While on the base level, the act itself repelled you so much when the fleshed out play conjured before your eyes, it was rather difficult to deny it. However, that was a thought for another day.

Sukuna reached his free hand over to the neckline of your dress, pulling it down – stretching it, ruining the material beyond repair and that was the least of your concern. All you wanted was him. His hands, his mouth, his touch. All of him. The cool air of the night hit your nipples, making them stand erect as the man indulged in like a predacious beast attaining his meal after days. He squeezed and kneaded your breast, while latching onto the other as he swirled his tongue over your hardened bud.

With all the added stimulation over your body, you were sent over the end. Your walls twitched around his fingers and you bit into your lips to stop the traitorous sounds, “Su-Sukuna… I- I am-”

“Not yet.”

“H-Huh?” You buckled your hips against his fingers, arching your back for he just mercilessly lessened his pace.

“You won’t cum until I say so,” He leaned back up fully to his original height, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone before they drop to your hips. “Do you get it, love?”

You snapped your eyes shut, toe curling up as the protest marked itself on your features, “Su-Sukuna, it-its…”

“Won’t you do it for me, love? Won’t you please me?” It was so damn painful to momentarily halt your climax when all you wanted was to let go. Yet, like clockwork, you nodded. “There’s my good girl,”

Words were funny. How did he just managed to get the flutter out of your chest with a single praise?

Sukuna again increased the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, curving and coiling them up to his wish and just enough to provide you with the needed pleasure. “Not yet,” He murmured, brushing circles over your clit. “Not yet,” He twisted the digits inside, hitting your sweet spot causing you to sink your nails over the hardened tile. He stretched his finger to the maximum, observing how your cunt throbbed while sucking in air and then he grinned. “Now.”

And like the night the string holding your sanity snapped, this wasn’t so different.

You spasmed around his digits, the climax washing over you like a thunderous wave hitting the shore. Eyes squeezed shut and a trail of drool running down your mouth, certainly you were a sight for his sore eyes. He pulled out his fingers from inside you, wiping it clean with the tissues on the rack as you came down from your high. Your bare chest heaved up and down while you inhaled the copious amount of air.

After you did and once your breathing was levelled, you were more than eager to return the return by yourself. So, when you sank down to your knees – Sukuna liked it a lot. Liked it more when you unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring out free and God… he was huge. The sheer girth and length was enough to put you into a moment of stupor. However, you broke out of it, ejected your spit on your hand, pumping his shaft to lubricate the length.

“Fuck- love, that’s hot.”

“Just returning the favour,” Said so, you placed a soft kiss over his tip before delving your mouth on its length. The salty taste of precum fell over your tongue – lapping it up, you swirled your tongue over the glans penis. Keeping your eyes on him, you forced more of his length into your mouth. Christ. The sheer girth of it stretched your mouth in a painful way yet that wasn’t your concern. For you were too much preoccupied with the throaty moans of Sukuna.

“Shit- you’re so good, lo- ahh- fuc-fuck, just like that.” He wrapped his fingers around the loose ends of your hair, pulling them in a ponytail as he guided you on his length.

His satisfaction rang in your ears and it pushed you further to make this experience hell of a memorable one. After all, when will be the next time this would happen? Or will it happen again? The overthinking was pushed out of your brain when you gagged on his cock – eyes fluttering shut as a tear prickled your eye. Recoiling soon after, you started to bob your head in the same rhythmic manner which he liked while you pumped the rest of his member. The way he grunts out your name again causes your cunt to throb with anticipation. Oh, how much you just wanted him to fill you up to the brim.

Trails of drool run down your lips to your chin and you pull your mouth back from his cock. A string of spit connected your glistening mouth to the tip and just from the sight of it, Sukuna could have climaxed then and there. “Ah- Fuck, doll… you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, not bothering to respond to that. Drunk on insatiable lust must have the courage take over. Cause the next thing you did was, pump your fist over his drool-coated cock with such a rhythm that had him throwing back his back. “Shoot your cum in my mouth.”

Despite the burning ache in his abdomen added to the stimulation and the sight of you on your knees, he still managed to keep up his cocky attitude. “Feeling bold today, are we? I wonder why…”

“Sukuna-” The warning this time was cleared out in your voice. “You know I can just leave you here and you will have to take care of this by yourself. Want that?”

“No.”

How easy was that? You smirked, darting out your tongue as you licked over the tip and took him in your mouth again. Sucking and lapping at his cock, the wanton grunts of his certainly contended you. You eagerly indulge him, coaxing him into the needful climax. His cock twitched inside your mouth. You knew, he was close. He knew, he was close.

Only a second later, he was shooting his cum inside your mouth.

You knew better than to let the aftertaste rest on your tongue. So when the copious amount of liquids started to pour in your throat, you were quick to gulp it down like a good girl. Once done, with the treatment, you let out his flaccid cock with a pop. A short trail of his ecstasy ran down your lips and Sukuna reached down to wipe extra liquid off your mouth.

“Fuck it, love.” He quivered out almost breathless. “How do you manage to be so beautiful always?”

You shrugged in a non-committal manner. “I don’t know, you tell me. A lot many people don’t think so.”

On instance, he grasped your arm, pulling you up from the floor. Holding you via the hips, he didn’t waste a second before locking his lips with yours again. However, unlike the first two times, this time, it was a lot softer. A tender gesture shutting you up from all the self-depreciating words, you must have been telling yourself.

Parting a hair’s breadth away, he muttered, “You should know by now that I am not most people.”

You snickered with a sour smile, “I know.”

With that, this time it was you initiating the kiss. You pulled him closer, holding his collar, it felt almost humorous how he still had his clothes on while yours were sliding off your body. The last thing you wanted were words o affirmations about the situation. It’s a distraction. You told yourself. All of it to keep your mind off the true matter at hand; Veiling the truths of a neglectful husband who was repulsed by his wife. You didn’t keep the previous tender tempo, instead engaging in a lascivious dance with his tongue, beckoning back the lustful desire that garnered the both of you.

Of course, it worked.

Of course, the roughness of his actions returned.

Of course, he was feasting upon your mouth as he stepped up and your buttocks hit the counter again.

Only a second later, Sukuna was flipping you on your back – assisting you into his favourite position. Both of you stared back at the reflection of the erotogenic position with your ass lined up with his crotch. Both of you shared the same mind – you nodded and he followed up with shoving his cock in your needy folds. He hit you till the brim, fleshy walls clamping around his member tenaciously, coaxing him to build up another climax.

“Doll, ahh- fuck! You just keep g-getting better- nghh- everytime, ahh-” He groaned from above you, his pelvix smacking against your ass as he continued to fill you up and pull out, just till the tip and inside again. “Fuc-Fuck! Did no one fu-fuck you this time round?”

“N-No.”

“Good,” He struck a rough hand over your ass cheek. “This cunt’s fucking mine.”

He increased the pace of his thrusts, giving you just enough. Just how much you wanted. Needed. And only this experience would ever count. His cock hit till your cervix and you arched your back, tears running down your cheeks. You muffled your whiny screams by pressing your face down on the cool tile. Obviously, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. The next second, he was pulling your head up gripping onto your hair strands as he jerked you face to meet the mirror. Your makeup was barely intact with the eyeliner smudged and the lipstick smeared over.

“Sh-Shit, Sukuna… ahh- to-too fast! Nghh-“

“Keep your eyes on me as I fuck you like a good little slut,” Tugging both of your hands back, he used them as a leverage to keep you up.

Now, with your cheek pressed against the mirror, you were forced to witness this unmaking. To keep his words, you did keep your eyes on him – meeting the burning lust filled irises. The diamond neck around your neck swayed in the air as he kept on shoving in-and-out of you.

“Damn it, I knew this would look good on you.” He traced his fingers over the jewel before his hand clamped around your neck – restricting the air supply. He was ruthless in this session tonight and it showed. Was it due to the fact that you were wearing the jewellery he bought you that sparked the need to claim you as his once again? Or was it because you had been bolder in your statements than usual?

Your lips parted as you tried to take in as much air as he would allow. Pulling you back, Sukuna let your back rest against his hard chest, still drilling into your hole. While you were on the brink of letting go with the pleasure, pushing you over the edge, he was mindful to keep his eyes trained on you. You. Not the reflection. The real you. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he deepened his thrusts. He watched how your eyes rolled back as he worked you into your second orgasm for the night. He watched how you gripped onto his elbow for support when you milked him dry.

An amalgam of emotions passed through his eyes while you were fixed on the daze of your after your climax. All of it flickering to none when he saw you gaining sense. And after a few thrusts, he finished himself inside you.

The next few minutes were a passage of silence. A silence which if used properly would clear up so much things between the two of you. Yet, with the room reeking of recent sex and the sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, both of you knew this confrontation wouldn’t happen soon enough.

“What now?” You questioned, choosing to be the mature one amongst the two.

“What now?” You hummed in affirmation and Sukuna found himself, trying to conjure up the proper response for this situation.

Whoever it was, that said – more than the event, the aftermath mattered – were certainly wise. For you and Sukuna, the aftermath would never be fruitful. An unspoken fact both of you could agree upon. Yet, was it just too wrong to let this charade continue for a little long?

“What do you suggest?” He gazed down on you, a softer tone coating his words as he pushed off the matted hairs from your face. “What do you want to do?”

“Mhm, well-” You slightly rotated your neck towards him. “Its my anniversary, after all. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, you won’t be alone,” He helped you get down from the counter, fixing the neckline of the dress to cover your skin as much as it would offer. “What say, want to get out of here?”

With a know-it-all smile and the thrill of peril daunting over, you answered him.

Meeting his lips for only a second. “Yes.”

___

CBN @/cybernetizens ◦ 3h ago

Wife of Satoru Gojo, have been spotted to leave company’s thirtieth anniversary with business rival Sukuna Ryomen in a scandalous outfit.

9.2k likes | 5.8k comments | 4.5k retweets

Buzz @/buzzfeed ◦ 5h ago

New image of Mrs. Gojo with Sukuna Ryomen in indecent outfit and appearance leaves netizens shocked!

2.2k likes | 1.7k comments | 0.6k retweets

GJNewz @/generaljapannewz ◦ 10h ago

Elitist and wife of Satoru Gojo spotted to have entered Hotel de Elysium with Sukuna Ryomen. Is this a public statement to announce divorce against husband?

5.6k likes | 2.1k comments | 1.3k retweets

362 notes · View notes

averageallogene · 1 year ago

Note

During the banquet at this year's Lantern Rite, Zhongli lets it slip that he's married.

Cue astonished exclaims, shocked gasps and incessant questioning.

After the banquet, Xiao wonders out-loud if he should call Adapti!You 'mom'.

Xiao ☆⊹˚ Mortal customs (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; fluff. Zhongli x reader is a thing. Traveler’s gender is not specified so the reader can imagine either Lumine or Aether!

2k words.

notes. Sorry for the wait there! It’s been a rough couple of days but now I’m back, even if still under the weather.... I had a lot of fun writing this one up though. Xiao deserves the absolute best and this idea lets me channel just that even if by a small portion <3.

The current situation inside the chosen restaurant had Xiao questioning why he’d agreed on attending. Despite both Rex L- Ahem, Zhongli and the traveler attending, he still found himself rather tense with all the other unknown presences surrounding him. The adeptus simply couldn’t understand the ways of mortal interactions, for making small talk wasn’t exactly the forté of a soldier like himself. His golden eyes would, more often than not, not wander far from the plated food before him, wondering if he should even try anything. His mind raced wildly, trying his hardest to think if what he was doing would be deemed inappropriate - after all, he’d been invited to attend the dinner, surely eating the food would be a sign of appreciation. Yet, not accustomed to anything other than almond tofu, he found himself hesitating.

Why was Xiao trying so hard? Well, he found himself curious about trying to approach the ways of mortal living in his exiled instance. The yaksha was rather short-tempered when it came to understanding something so foreign and so mundanely complex as that to him, yet for Zhonlgi to seemingly seem so… Happy, so free as he lived as a mortal, surely there were a few benefits he was misunderstanding. And to tackle the topic, it eased him the reality that to his side sat the traveler, a companion he’d grown to cherish through the time they had spent together. Xiao wasn’t one to voice his thoughts a lot, but he hoped his thankfulness for the patience shown to him was known.

He’d winced quietly upon the sudden arrival of the bard, his face gleefully smiling as he was properly introduced to the Funeral Consultant. He couldn’t even look, his chest bubbling with the unknown emotion that many would explain as second hand embarrassment as the two archons attempted to act civil to the other attendees. The young man dressed in green, Venti, was quick to showcase his lyre as he joined them in their feast, him and the organizer of the dinner discussing poetry as the other mortals joined in on the topic. In his seat, he could only pick at his food as the traveler engaged in small talk with him, inquiring if there was anything else he’d like to try that was at the table.

Xiao could only remain semi interested in the ongoing conversation, unintentionally letting his mind wander to his own duties as his ears focused in and out of what the others spoke of. In fact, the only times he’d fully focus were whenever Zhongli had something to share with their table, his gaze finally lifting to eye him directly before once more shying away to any other corner of the room. He couldn’t exactly help himself, his respect for the man surpassed his otherwise shut off personality. Well, it wasn’t as though anyone could question it, anyway. Most were either too focused on the interesting conversation Venti had with Zhongli, or deeply respected the Consultant in their own way that the idea of focusing on anything he had to say wasn’t considered an odd response.

However, out of every intriguing fact he’d shared with them that night, one seemed to catch everyone off guard.

“Xingqiu, that poem you’ve just recited is most intriguing. In which book did you read it, again? My wife would absolutely enjoy such fine literature.”

The table seemingly froze still, everyone taking a long moment to try and process what they’d just heard. Whilst Xingqiu, Chongyun and Xiangling seemed mostly receptive to such a concept, the rest of the table’s reactions made them question such mundanity. Hu Tao was still up from her seat, her gaze locked to the back of the head of her Consultant as she processed the news and beyond. The traveler gazed at Xiao slowly, watching as the adeptus himself seemed taken aback to such news. Paimon appeared to freeze mid air, for once not saying anything as her eyes squinted at the idea of a married Zhongli. Venti, on the other hand, couldn’t help the way his eyebrows raised, a sly smile making its way to his face as he finally broke the silence.

“Ho ho? So mister Zhongli has a wife? Well isn’t that the most wonderful news! Certainly something that this bard couldn’t have predicted, that’s for sure.” He chuckled in the end there, serving his own cup with more wine as Zhongli quietly took a sip of his tea.

“Mhm… Is that so?” He responded, his tone calm as if he hadn’t just dropped a meteor of information on everyone.

“My my, Zhongli! Why didn’t you tell me so earlier?” Hu Tao gasped, utterly flabbergasted as pieces of the puzzle began to connect inside her brain. “So that is why there was a ring invoice brought directly to the parlor that one time!”

“I thought I had explained myself regarding it, Director?” The man inquired ever so calmly, contrasting wildly with the way his superior gesticulated wildly.

“Simply explaining it to be an heirloom definitely isn’t enough to fully capture the picture!” She retorted.

“But it is precisely that. It’s intended to become an heirloom for years to come.”

“Ooooh Mister Zhongli, you’re quite the romantic!” The bard proclaimed, leaning forward on the table as he rested his chin on his hand. “Well, who is this lovely wife of yours anyway? You can’t just leave it at that, you know!”

“Yes, I do have to agree with our friend here.” Hu Tao mused, hands on her hips as she gave him a side eye. “I wish to know why this wasn’t brought to table prior to me booking our seats, for had I known you had a wife, I would’ve invited her as well, of course!”

“I wasn’t aware this was such a grand deal, my apologies.” Zhongli defended himself, serving himself more tea as he cleared his throat. “My wife, [F/N], just has a lot on her plate and said she couldn’t possibly attend tonight. So, I left it at that. Oh, but since we’re on the topic, she voiced her wishes for everyone to have a wonderful Lantern Rite.”

“Ah, but you’re saying that now?” The Funeral Director sighed, arms crossing as she shook her head. “Aiya, Zhongli. How could you not mention something as important as this before?”

“... ‘As important’?...” Xiao had murmured to himself, his gaze lowering as he attempted to still fully understand the situation. No one but the traveler had heard his voice, the gears in his head practically being envisioned as he tried to once more grasp something that differed to a grand degree between mortals and adepti.

“Everything alright, Xiao?” The traveler had asked, gaze twisting with slight worry as a small smile graced their lips.

“Uh, yes, you needn't worry.” He cleared his throat, though his eyes betrayed the rest of his body.

Between the ruckus of Zhongli being thoroughly questioned about his married life, the two could quietly chat for a brief moment, Xiao being able to have his doubt clarified as the traveler had grown quite good at reading his troubles.

“I too was surprised at the news,” They’d explained with a quick laugh, before inquiring Xiao. “Is it because it’s out of the norm for adepti to marry?”

“N-No, it’s not that,” He responded in a quick breath, his sharp eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought of the few adepti he’d known to find a spouse. “I suppose it’s just that… I don’t understand how it can be the cause of such a ruckus. Even if I myself am surprised.”

“Oh, I see,” They nodded their head with an understanding hum, quickly deciphering what he really meant. To the traveler, it would’ve seemed that the way adepti viewed marriage was as something more natural and perhaps rational, as opposed to the grand reactions humans would typically have whenever one announced they were married. “Well, I think it boils down to how human life is far shorter than that of an adeptus, so every opportunity of celebration is cause for a grand reaction. You can rest assured they’re just happy for Zhongli, though.”

“I see… I suppose that makes sense.” He’d nodded his head quickly before stealing a quick glance to Zhongli, watching as he attempted to respond to every question thrown his way.

How they had met, how it had developed, who proposed and when… The consultant responded to every inquiry with patience and fondness, and Xiao almost felt guilty for never truly realizing Zhongli had found someone special. Even worse, strangely now he felt… Curious, to meet this woman. Would she be a mere mortal, or perhaps someone of adeptal blood? Either way, for Zhongli to have chosen her, she had to be someone of exceptional grace and excellence, someone that deserved his utter respect no matter what else. It was as though he’d already made his mind up, now only having to have the courage to ask if he could meet her.

“Say, if I plan another dinner in the future, will you introduce her to us?” Hu Tao had seemingly read his thoughts, smiling with expectancy as everyone eyed Zhongli for his response.

“I see no reason not to. She would surely love to meet you all.” He responded without much thought, the corners of his lips raising into a small, warm smile. “You’ll all see, [F/N] is a wonderful woman with the most radiant soul. I’m most lucky to have her as my beautiful wife. Ah, perhaps I can ask if she’d be willing to share her own poetry with you. She underestimates her choice of words too often, yet I’ve never before listened to such fine-”

“Yes, yes, we get it,” Hu Tao cut him short, smiling with humor to watch her Consultant with such hearts in his eyes. “We would definitely love to meet her, as well.”

“Please do not forget to invite me when that dinner does occur! I’ll ask our lovely traveler to ensure the date reaches me, lest I be forgotten.” Venti winked playfully, turning to Zhongli with humor. “I would not want to miss meeting such a beloved person of mister Zhongli after all.”

“Right… Of course.” It was the Consultant’s turn to murmur with slight hesitancy, yet he still sighed softly and let it be. Even with someone as brazen as the bard present, he’d like to introduce his beloved [F/N] to all the others. He’d ensure no boundaries were ever crossed, of course.

And just like that, the dinner ended with everyone still pressing Zhongli to ensure his wife attended the next gathering Hu Tao prepared. They nearly made the man sign a contract for it, his superior joking about it before finally allowing everyone to leave. He could breathe easy upon reaching the cool air outside, eyes gazing ahead as he found solace in the night sounds of Liyue Harbor. All he had to do now was to get back to his humble abode, waiting for his [F/N] to return before they could retire for the evening. His daydreaming was cut short as the traveler bid them goodnight, waving politely as he watched them disappear with Paimon into the distance. Before long, all that was left were him and Xiao, and knowing the young man as well as he did, Zhongli knew there was something he wished to inquire if he had remained around.

“How have you been faring, Xiao?” He had politely asked, his arms resting behind his back as he eyed his pupil with a warm expression.

Xiao always felt comfortable around him. There had always been a sense of easiness around the man he couldn’t always explain, all his problems seemingly disappearing for a moment as he basked in the security Zhongli provided. Even if he was no longer an archon, Xiao always felt safe around him, like there was no evil to be purged, like there was no war inside his mind. The yaksha knew he could confide absolutely anything in the man, for there was no fear in being judged, no fear of being rejected. Yet, he respected him so much, it almost felt insulting to even confide such trivial matters. His mind jumped back and forth even after hearing Zhongli ask about his wellness, his gaze lowering for a moment as he pondered for a moment longer.

“Z-Zhongli.” He’d cleared his throat, correcting himself before he’d call him by the name he used during his active godhood. It definitely felt strange, yet with the way the man calmly hummed for him to continue, he figured he had the approval to continue. “I wanted to ask for something, if I may?”

“But of course. What’s on your mind?” He patiently asked, slightly humored. After all, Xiao had never been one to request anything. During the long time they’d been allies, he’d always been the one to read the young yaksha’s mind and figure out his wishes. It was a welcomed change of pace for him to take initiative, he had to admit.

“I was wondering if…” Xiao paused for a moment, before finding the courage to continue. “If, before this… Dinner, the Director spoke of, I could perhaps meet [F/N] by myself?”

Zhongli’s expression softened, his eyebrows raising with a hint of surprise. He couldn’t help the smile from raising to his face, finding the curiosity of the adeptus rather endearing. He let out a soft chuckle, before nodding his head prior to Xiao being able to grow hesitant of having asked such a request.

“But of course. When would it be a good time for you?”

“I… I’m not sure, i-it’ll be alright either way. I hope she doesn’t quite mind-”

“[F/N] wouldn’t ever mind, Xiao. She’s expressed interest in meeting you before.”

“Really?” He breathed out softly, a little surprised as he watched his role model nod his head.

“Indeed. I’ve spoken of you, after all.”

Xiao couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten, a feeling of flusteredness growing within himself as he simply hummed in response. He could only hope [F/N] would not only accept his presence, but also not be affected by it. After all, his karmic debt was always something that deeply worried him whenever he was to be around mortals.

“You needn’t worry over anything, Xiao. I’m certain she will be instantly fond of you.” Zhongli placed a warm hand on his shoulder, one that radiated an easing sensation throughout his worn out body. The yaksha, who despite all the doubts swarming his mind always put his trust in Zhongli above, nodded his head upon hearing so.

“I… I’ve heard of a few mortal customs through Verr Goldet…” He mumbled quietly, more so becoming lost in his own thoughts than speaking to Zhongli's direction. “Hmph, mortal etiquette is so overly complex, but… What was it…”

The former archon couldn’t help himself but remain quiet, letting his pupil be engrossed in his thoughts as he thought aloud. It was different from the ever silent yaksha, so Zhongli had no reason to stop him. If anything, he was proud of watching as he grew more comfortable to ever voice his own thoughts aloud.

“It was something regarding familial bonds, I believe.” Xiao explained, his fingers resting softly against his own chin. “Would it be… Too cold of me, to call [F/N] by her name alone? Perhaps I ought to call her ‘mother’ instead?”

Zhongli’s expression shifted, the man taking a mere moment to process the information. It was his turn of being surprised for the night it would seem, the information hitting him deep in his chest with an endearing warmth. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, ripping the yaksha out of his thoughts as he eyed him incredulously. It would’ve seemed that he really hadn’t intended on actually speaking it aloud, the tips of his ears gaining the same vivid red shade of the jueyun chili. Zhongli however, was quick to beat him to the punch and spoke before he could take anything back.

“I’m sure [F/N] would love that.” He replied, much to Xiao’s embarrassment. “In fact, I’m certain that doing so will be the quickest way to earn your spot in her heart.” Ah, Zhongli has never recalled seeing Xiao teleport away as quickly as he did. The man was left to laugh quietly by himself, smiling as he thought back to the moment time and time again as he walked back home. Now he surely wanted to have the yaksha meet his lovely [F/N].

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #yoko drabbles

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mostly-marvel-musings · 9 months ago

Text

Typical Stark - Chapter 10

A/N: Final chapter guys! Leave a comment, like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem! Reader

Warnings: 18+ fluffy smut. All the feels.

Word count: 2.3k

Typical Stark Masterlist

Calm.

That was what you were primarily feeling. Content, calm and happy. Feelings you would otherwise find in mere fleeting moments in your day to day lives.

The bucolic setting you were currently in added greatly to it as well. Eyes closed in sublime bliss, a faint smile played on your lips as the gentle wind rustled the autumn leaves around.

The last few weeks in Scotland had been a wonderful blur of golden wheat fields, walks by the rustic countryside, hot cups of tea and pastries and magical sunsets. Along with lazy strolls around the village by the sea and nights spent in front of the fireplace making love.

Your honeymoon couldn’t have been better.

…

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss—of course you already are.”

The hall erupted into cheers and claps as Tony grabbed you by your waist and kissed you, effectively interrupting Rhodey who was now rolling his eyes, making you yelp in surprise as he dipped you dramatically, making the crowd go wild.

“Hello, Mrs. Stark.” He murmured against your lips, making your heart flutter.

You were Mrs. Stark.

“Hi there, Mr. Stark.” You smiled back, gazing lovingly at your now husband whose eyes shone with adoration and mirth.

The team along with other friends and family watched with moist eyes as you and Tony danced for the first time as husband and wife. His big doe eyes shone under the soft light that illuminated the space, swimming with love that turned your insides into mush, a perpetual blush on your warm cheeks as he gazed at you.

If someone told you a couple of years ago that one day you’d find your soulmate in Tony Stark and fall head over heels for the man, you’d call them crazy. What started off as animosity blossomed into the most unlikely romance.

What a journey it had been!

You weren’t even sure if you were following the music anymore, it seemed the world had faded away and it was just the two of you that mattered in the moment.

Tony’s fingers danced over the expanse of your back as you continued to dance, the lace fabric of your wedding gown soft and enticing against his nimble fingers. You could tell he was getting fidgety by the way they tapped against your skin, making you smile and raise your head from his shoulder.

“Want me to get you one of my special cocktails, dear husband?” You asked softly, making Tony chuckle as you both recalled your first date. The day you met the real Tony Stark, the man behind the Iron Man facade.

“How d’you know I’ve been wanting one of those?” He grinning, kissing the back of your hand as you dragged him towards the bar counter.

“I know when you’re distracted and restless.” You pointed out, gesturing to the bartender to make you your signature cocktail.

“All I can think about is getting you out of that dress, honey. Trust me, I am distracted.” He murmured against your ear, his honey-dripping voice traveling straight to your core.

“Do you think they would notice if we bail out?” You pondered, making Tony chuckle, glad that you were on the same tangent as him.

“I think Rhodey would have me by my neck if we don’t stay back for his grand speech. But after that, I’m all yours and you, Mrs. Stark, are all mine.”

Mere inches from touching his lips, your little moment was interrupted when someone cleared their throat behind you, much to Tony’s annoyance.

To your surprise, it was Stuart, your ex, and the guy you dated before joining the Avengers. You’d been family friends for ages and were still in touch, not as much but you were pleased to see him there for your special occasion.

“Stuart! You made it! How’ve you been?” You asked politely, after giving him a hug, frowning at Tony who’s gaze was fixed upon your hand touching your ex’s arm.

“Y/N/N, I knew you’d be the first to get married between the two of us. You look stunning. She knows how to break hearts.” He joked, offering his hand to Tony who straightened up and accepted it rather reluctantly, giving him a stiff nod.

“Tony, this is Stuart, an old family friend and yes, emphasizing on old, looks like someone’s got grays peeking through.” You giggled, touching his hair to point out the graying bits, adding to Tony’s annoyance.

As you exchanged pleasantries and spoke about good old times, Tony gulped his drink and placed the glass back on the counter a little too forcefully, clearing his throat.

“Well, it was nice of you to come. But I’d like to steal my bride away now, if that’s okay?”

He slid his arm around your waist and pulled you against him, kissing your temple, letting his lips linger for a while more than he normally would.

You hastily said goodbye to Stuart as Tony dragged you away, urgent steps leading you away from the crowd and into an empty room.

“Tony, what was that—” he didn’t give you time to finish your sentence as his lips descended onto yours in a fervent kiss, walking you back until your back hit a wall behind.

A part of you was irritated by the way he reacted but that part was quickly silenced by the sinful tingles that went down your spine as Tony’s hands kneaded your clothed breasts, knee wedging between your legs before you felt his groin brush deliciously against yours.

“Tony..” you warned, glancing at the door that wasn’t locked, anybody could walk in looking for you.

He slammed both your hands above your head in urgency, trailing kisses down your neck, showing no signs of slowing down or stopping.

You felt him sucking hard on a spot that normally made you weak in the knees but right now, he wasn’t doing it out of passion, it was out of jealousy.

That irked you.

“Tony stop.” You breathed, making the man halt at once and take a step away, his brown eyes dilated with lust, laced with confusion.

“What are you doing?” You grabbed the lapels of his jacket as your heart slowed to a normal pace.

“What? A husband can’t sneak his wife away for a few moments to make out?” He shrugged, warily placing his arms around your waist but not pulling you close.

“That wasn’t making out, that was marking territory. On our wedding day, Tony? Seriously?” You kept your voice low but the irritation in it was clear.

Tony stared at your hands, staying quiet.

“Okay, he was bugging me. Happy?”

“Stuart? Why?” You coaxed him to look at you.

“Why? The man was practically drooling over you, Y/N! Like he missed out on a fucking opportunity to be with you.” He rambled on, his grip on your waist tightened unconsciously.

“And what if we dated in the past?” You murmured, Tony’s hands slid away from your waist down into fists clenched tightly.

This added to your irritation further. That and the fact that Tony was acting like a kid denied his favorite treat, his brows furrowed as he paced around the room.

“So you’re allowed to have a past and not me? Tony? Are you serious right now? Tony! Look at me.” You called.

“I don’t know, Y/N! You’re mine and I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He grumbled, almost adorably, making your anger dissipate.

You chuckled and reached out to pull him close by his jacket, your grin widening as he shot you a glare.

“I married you, Anthony Edward Stark, you foolishly-in-love genius, billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist. Today’s our wedding day, in case you forgot.” You murmured, leaning in closer and closer as you spoke, walking him back until he hit the back wall softly.

“No. But maybe Mr. Almost-Silver-Fox out there needed a reminder.”

Now you had to laugh, cupping his handsome face, you pressing your lips against his in a promising kiss to which he responded immediately, melting into it with a sigh.

“Would it help if I told you he was really bad in bed?” You giggled, sneaking a hand inside Tony’s dress pants where his cock reacted with a twitch.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“And what about this new man you’re marrying?”

“Oh he’s a wizard. A sex God, if you will.” You smirked, mirroring his expression.

Tony’s breath stuttered as you continued palming him over his boxers, pulling away almost suddenly and watching him whine.

“Hey!”

“You know what you did, husband mine.”

You pulled away, pleased with the tent poking in his pants and that betrayed look on his face before walking out to rejoin your wedding reception.

…

“Can we go inside and make more tea?”

Tony’s soft voice pulled you out of your reverie, making you chuckle in surprise at his out of the blue question.

“Is this honeymoon converting a certain coffee addict into a tea lover?”

You exclaimed dramatically, giggling as Tony tickled your sides, gently guiding you down to meet your lips. He was reluctant to lift his head from your lap, or even move a muscle, given how relaxed and at peace he felt, but he had other things on his mind now. You being top of the priority list.

Following you inside, Tony was glad to see logs of wood still burning in the fireplace, it was definitely chilly outside but he’d never admit it. He held a corner of the pale yellow knit sweater you wore, clinging onto it like a little child & making you giggle.

You filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove, tapping your fingernails against the marble counter, waiting before Tony pressed his chest to your back, caging you in.

His fingers found their way inside your sweater, feeling your warm skin before pulling your hair to a side to expose your neck.

Eyes fluttered close as his soft, plump lips followed your well-mapped trail starting behind your ear, down your neck to your collarbone where he pulled your sweater down to nibble at your skin.

“I thought we were making tea..” you murmured with a smile, a smirk teasing his lips at the slight change in your voice already.

“We are. But you know I always like dessert with my tea.”

He lifted your arms to pull the sweater above your head and discarded it without giving it another glance, trailing his fingers down your arms as he took them down your sides.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as he dipped a hand inside your pants, fingers grazing against your nerves down there, teasing with his thumb.

“So wet already? My naughty girl.” He gathered some of your slick with a finger, humming in approval as your legs automatically parted for him.

His breath was hot against your face, holding you firmly against his chest as he rubbed lazy circles around your clit.

Grinning against your flushed skin when he felt your hips push back for more contact, Tony stepped back, only to peel your bottoms down your legs.

“Aren’t I still your favorite toy?” He murmured against your glistening core, his hot breath fanning against the skin.

Shuddering, you only manage a nod, gripping on his hair to guide him towards where you need him the most. The ultimate giver that your husband claims to be, Tony placed both of hands behind your legs, wordlessly telling you to take control.

This man would truly be the death of you.

Desire licks deep within your belly as Tony eats you out, nose brushing against your clit while his tongue works his magic, drawing out needy moans.

He had your legs trembling in no time as your first orgasm hit you like a train, the addition of his fingers sustaining your high.

As you recovered, he picked you up and carried you out in the living room. Placing you carefully against a soft rug that lay before the fireplace, he undressed and freed his erect cock.

Lining up against your entrance, Tony leaned over to nudge your nose to get you to open your eyes to look at him.

The promise to always look at each other with love and admiration.

A synchronous sigh left your lips as he entered you, nice and slow to allow you to feel all of him.

Weaving your fingers and gripping them firmly, he placed both your hands above your head as he gradually began moving.

The moment couldn’t be more perfect.

Soft sighs echoed in the room as he speared into you, stretching you out deliciously with every thrust.

The promise to remember that love grows stronger when tested.

Dipping his head, he kissed you deeply, sliding his tongue to meet yours as you moaned into his mouth. Your heels dug into his hips as you met his thrusts halfway, feeling his thighs clench and twitch.

To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death.

“Tony..” you cried, walls clenching around his length, drawing him deeper inside.

“I’ve got you, honey. Come with me.”

He grunted as his thrusts became sloppier, holding on to come with you. With his lips attached to your neck, you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, walls fluttering around his cock as it twitched inside, spilling his seed.

“I love you, Mr. Stark.” You grinned lazily, pressing your lips against his stubbled cheek as you caught your breath.

“I love you more, Mrs. Stark.”

You must’ve stayed there for only a few breaths before Tony lifted his head to give you a soft kiss against your forehead, his eyes already dancing with mischief.

“What?” You narrowed your eyes at the man, not really wanting to move an inch from your position.

“I’d really like that tea now.”

Rolling your eyes, Tony watched your face with such mirth, it took you a second to realize he’d muttered ‘Typical Stark’ with you this time.

…

#tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark fic #tony stark series #tony stark imagine #typical stark #the stark squad #marvel fanfiction #iron man fanfiction #iron man smut #iron man #tony stark #mostly marvel musings

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cts-ryu-writing-desk · 8 months ago

Text

Shoot With Life

This continues directly from the moment near the end of my previous story with Iona! This was a fun little one to work on and I do want to do more of this style of preg. Will need to keep experimenting with it.

Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He arrived at the apartment moments ago. Well dressed in a suit and a touch of gray in his hair with a heavy five-o-clock shadow. He followed the crudely written instructions he got from a coworker. Looking at the crude text he was reminded of their enticing words. “She'll change you, she's magical.”

He looked around for it. What Were the numbers the man wrote? He could vaguely recall this woman's name: Lona Abernathy. Was that it?

He looked around. There were no names on the door. It was eerily quiet here. Like it was abandoned. Yet there were so many cars out there. Arriving at a door vaguely matching the crudely written numbers. He gave a good knock on the door. Once more for good measure. He could hear a voice on the other side. The door opened and he saw a flawless feminine face staring back at him.

“Yes?” She asked softly

“Are you Mrs.Abernathy?”

“I'm no Missus. Miss.” she corrected

“But you are Abernathy?”

“I am,” she said plainly, “and who are you?”

“Well, you see. My name is Dwight Freedman, I am hoping that you can help me with something.”

She opened the door more. Dwight was surprised to see she was so youthful and beautiful. He was so mesmerized by her face he didn't notice or pay mind to the large rounded sphere resting on her abdomen.

“What do you want?” she asked him

Dwight began “Miss Abernathy-”

“Iona, please.” She said calmly

“Iona. I was wondering if you could help me. I've been in a sort of funk lately. You helped a coworker of mine. Miles, Miles Halloway, and I was wondering if you could assist me the same way.”

Iona had a wondering expression on her face as if trying to recall the name. “Please come in,”

Stepping in quickly Dwight Proceeded to turn around finally noticing her rather gravid state. A sudden sound of shock left his lips. Catching himself. “I ugh. I didn't know.”

“Oh, this?” She said tracing her baby bump “Don’t worry about this. Come sit,” she gestured to head over to the couch.

Dwight was nervous. He didn't know what she was gonna do but he'd never really done it with a pregnant woman before. She sat down next to him. “So tell me what it is that brought you here?” Her voice was sweet As she traced her fingers around her belly

“I. Um well. I've been impotent as of late. And nothing’s been exciting me.”

“Have you tried a wife?”

“No no, I'm. Uh.” Dwight let out a nervous chuckle,” I'm not married,”

“I see,” Iona said “Aren't there pills to help with that,”

“I tried. They didn't seem to work.”

“And what exactly will I be able to do about it, in my current condition?”

“I dunno, something I hope. The way Miles talked about you was like you were some kind of miracle worker. He said you were magical so I figured you'd kinda do the same for me. Shoot some life into these balls,”

Iona had a look of confusion. From the way Dwight was talking. Miles, whoever he is, never revealed the nature of how Iona helped him. But she also couldn't recall a male customer by such a name, and given who she is she was often well aware if someone tried to use an alias. Perhaps it was a client from years ago, she wondered. “And what did, Miles say about me?”

“Only that you were magical, and you'd change my life,” Dwight said elated

Dwight continued to ramble as Iona pondered this. It seemed familiar, even vaguely so. Remembering someone who once said something similar. Perhaps it was them, “I See,” she said to Dwight

Thinking for a moment “Well. I'm sure I can whip something up. That will help you,”

“Oh bless you,” Dwight said to her

“Please wait here,” she said, scooting herself off the couch and heading to another room.

“Do you-” He began to shout to her “Do you want me help with anything?”

“No.” Iona said, “In fact, if you want you can head on into the room with the red carpet and get undressed i'll be in, in a moment.”

Dwight sat up and headed over. Beginning to unbutton his shirt. The room Iona mentioned was ajar from the living room. He entered and saw a few tables. Putting his clothes on one of them. Standing completely naked back to the door.

“Here have this and I'll be in shortly,” Iona said, shutting the door.

He turned just missing her. He didn't want to seem pushy as she did seem to be pregnant. Very pregnant in fact. Something Dwight was a bit concerned over. “Hope I'm okay, never did it with a pregnant woman before.” He thought

The cup she left for him was filled with a dark substance which to Dwight seemed to resemble a cola. He thought of her as such a kind host and would return The kindness by waiting for her there.

Standing in the center of the room. With one quick motion, he gulped down the drink. The room was nice and warm against his bare skin and the drink was refreshing. Though it looked like it, it didn't taste like cola. He began to feel something akin to a burp forming before the feeling descended to his balls.

He was surprised, having not felt them descend like this in some time. They were getting heavy. With one hand Dwight could already tell something was happening. He'd never felt them hang quite so low. They had swollen rather large appearing like baseballs between his legs; the weight was something to be admired. Dwight was only wondering what exactly he had drunk to make them swell up like this. He couldn't help but want to be brought down to his knees. His balls felt massive. Already big enough for one testi to overflow his palm.

Dwight’s balls didn't stop getting bigger and bigger. They were already the size of cantaloupes when he felt a bizarre sensation take over him. Like swimming or moving. In one - no. Both of his testi. He was puzzled and speechless. It took mere seconds for each testi to swell to the size of large watermelons. Each ball was heavy. He stayed there on the Ground weighted down by his massive balls.

“I- Iona?” He called out.

He'd hoped this was a dream. Going to a mysterious pregnant woman's house. Expecting sex and his testicle swelled to an unusual size. There was no other explanation. Dwight felt the skin was stretching further than he thought possible. He'd never imagined they'd be so big.

Dwight was confronted again by the sensation of something moving inside his testi. feeling it with the palm of his hand. His heart sank and his blood ran cold. What was it? This had to be fake. Right?

He called out again for Iona. Dwight could feel a kind of dull pain around his lower stomach and pressure near his bladder. "What the hel-” he managed to let out before a sudden burst shot out of his cock.

It felt like a large jet of semen shot out from his cock. It relieved the pressure for a moment before bringing on the pain. He grunted and groaned, feeling something stretching out his urethra. Slowly inching its way out. He cried out for Iona again to no avail. His painful wails left his ears ringing.

Dwight wanted to fall over yet the weight of his balls would not let him go far. The large creeping through His urinary tract continued. The pressure felt like a building orgasm yet couldn't understand why it was so painful. He closed his eyes from the strain, feeling a large weight press against his prostate. It was overwhelming. He let out a deep bellowing wail. A mix of agonizing pain and great pleasure.

Something big was getting closer now. Pressing against the tip of his cock. He went numb from the straining feeling. It was like it came out centimeter by centimeter, a slow painful crawl. He hunched over in pain and finally opened his eyes.

Between Dwight's spread legs was a largely inflated cock. A tuft of hair crowning out the tip of his dick. “AHH!” he let out

Like any sane man might. Something big and hairy was coming out of his dick. It was round almost like a head. Was it a baby?

Dwight was too swallowed up in the pain and confusion to ask questions. Seeing the head covered in bile creep out confirmed it. It was a baby. Painfully he passed one shoulder and then the other. Then out came the body. Only feeling relief from pressure once the body came out completely. Yet this moment did not assuage him. The familiar pressure came again.

The pain of feeling his urethra being stretched out again was more intense this time. Perhaps this was due to sensitivity from the baby prior. He was wailing in distress, begging for help. “Oh god! Please!” He cried out as tears rolled down his face. The baby persisted creeping through his loins. The first was crying. Dwight ruled inwards before falling over to one side. It hurt him to be in the fetal position. The baby, getting closer and closer to the tip.

Unlike the first, a foot popped out then another. This one was in breech. The baby was creeping out his cock twitching and pulsing as more of the baby crept out. All was well until the shoulders. A painful struggle. Dwight screamed. Someone had to have heard him. Someone has to hear this, whatever was happening to him right? “Please god make it stop!” Dwight wails through a river of tears.

Finally, the twins head passed through the eye of his cock with little difficulty. Dwight cried as the pressure was gone. His relief was only met with tears. The tinge of pain resonated through his nethers. He couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Coming to, sometime later. Afterbirth resting at his feet. The babies were cleaned and swaddled nicely in a pair of bassinets. Dwight looked down at his cock, still recovering from passing two children. It was swollen, large, and red as if inflamed. He barely had the strength to move yet was determined to crawl away. This ordeal was no hallucination brought on from ingesting the drink, Iona gave him. She had to be responsible. He would confront Iona, come hell or high water.

It was a struggle just to get to the door. A greater hurdle was to lift himself so he could reach the doorknob. Ages could have passed in the time it took him to reach the door knob. Finally accomplishing it, he fell as the door opened outward. Dwight looked up expecting to see Iona’s apartment. Yet it wasn't. He was greeted with familiar sights. It was his apartment, though familiar it now was filled with unopened packages, baby supplies, and fully built cribs. And they were in his apartment.

This couldn’t be possible. When he finally had the strength to stand he barely managed to hobble into the, he tried to throw the door closed. Be done with this, only the door didn’t move. The room shrunk suddenly. Pushing the bassinets out gently, before slamming the door shut. He was alone with the children he birthed from his loins. Standing in the dark of his apartment.

Iona’s gentle voice echoed in the dark, it sounded like it came from all around Dwight. Saying, “Be weary of what you ask. He paid a great price to have his life changed. And so too must you. Take care of the twins, and treat them well and with love. I will know if you do not, and should I need to return. I will not be so lenient.”

Dwight looked at the twins sleeping soundly.

“Enjoy your change,” Iona finished

Dwight’s cries were silent. Tears rolling down his face. He didn’t ask for this.

It has been three years since the night he paid a visit to Iona. His twin boys Reinier and Michael, were having a little birthday celebration. Moved from his small apartment to a small house, and guests abound. Mothers and fathers and children whom his boys befriended through trips to the park, or just being out and about with the boys. He had a warm and deep affection for those boys, having raised them as best he could. Their smiles warmed his heart, and though he did love them deeply. Dwight was unsure if he did so out of fear of Iona’s wrath, or if it was truly genuine.

Realizing only after his encounter with Iona, he had asked a witch to shoot life into his balls. He gave nothing to her. Though she didn’t turn him away, ironically, she did do as he asked. And gave him twins no less.

#mpreg #male pregnancy #mpreg story #pregnant kink #pregnancy #pregnant story #preg #birth #pregnant #ball pregnancy #ball preg

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m-jelly · 10 months ago

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All I need - The end

@ladycheesington <3

Levi x fem!reader

Future Fic, Romance, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, mafia, Gangsters, Love, True Love, Fluff, Protective Levi, Possessive Levi, suggestive moment, mentions of violence, mentions of bad childhood, mentions of bad mother.

In this chapter: You and Levi take your last public stand against Ariana and work to destroy her for good. With everything set, you become bait for a crazy Ariana. You and Ariana face off, Vincent has closure and you finally get peace. It's wedding day and it is full of love from everyone.

Today you were on a mission to piss off Ariana even more than you had before. An invite had come your way to speak on a talk show. Before Levi, you would have dreamed of doing something like this, but here you were all dressed up to talk to the host. It felt all so surreal to you that you had so much confidence now in yourself and your body. Having a man who loved you more than anything saying you were incredible and perfect helped.

Levi reached over and untangled your earring for you. “You look like a Queen.”

“Thank you.”

He wrapped his arms around you. “Marry me.”

You hummed a laugh. “I will be.”

He tilted his head and spoke against your lips. “I mean now.”

You giggled. “We can’t, my grumpy love.”

He pouted. “Why not?”

“Because you made plans for the wedding. We even taste-tested a cake.”

He lowered his head. “You’re right.”

“Let’s just go out there, do our interview and then go home.”

He hugged you and hummed. “Okay.”

You rubbed his back. “This will all be over soon, okay?”

“I know. We have to get Ariana to lose her shit, attack and then we can take her out.”

You pulled back a bit and kissed him. “Yes, my grumpy love.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” The host shyly walked closer. “I’m Lucy, I will be interviewing you both today. Can I say, I am so excited to meet you both.”

You shook her hand. “Nice to meet you too. Levi has asked you to call me Mrs Ackerman and I approve. We’re not married yet, but we will be in a month.”

Levi yanked you closed. “She’s my wife already in spirit.”

You giggled. “You cutie.”

Lucy laughed. “Well, Mr and Mrs Ackerman, please follow me and if you want anything to drink let me know!” She walked with you. “I love the dress you are wearing and your makeup is so good.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you. It’s a new line of clothing and the makes is special too.”

“Oh, could I ask you that on the show?”

“Of course, I would love to tell you all about it.”

Levi squeezed your bum. “You’re wonderful for finding these two companies. I just know talking about them will help them out so much.”

Lucy sat in her chair. “Oh, are they small businesses?”

You took your seat and waited for Levi to sit next to you. “Yeah, they’re small and they are incredible. The owners are so sweet too.”

Lucy clapped her hands. “Amazing. I can’t wait to find out because I would love to use the makeup and have the clothes.”

“You like it that much?” Your cheeks burned as you smiled. “I’m glad. That makes me happy.”

Levi kissed your cheek. “You are adorable.”

Lucy grinned. “All right, you both ready?”

“Yes.”

She shifted in her seat and smiled at the camera. Lucy gave her introduction and talked about who she had and what was going on for the show. She mentioned current events and how things were being impacted and changed. Even the topic of your and Levi’s attack was news as well. Talks of it being Ariana was out and people were turning against her, it didn’t help that she said she’d kill you at a charity event.

Lucy turned to you. “Welcome Mr and Mrs Ackerman, thank you for coming.”

You smiled. “Thank you for having us. We normally don’t do this, but so many rumours are flying around and we need to talk.”

“Oh, understandable really. I have a few questions for you and I’m sure there are some you are expecting.”

Levi sighed. “We are. We want to answer everything we can and please understand that there are some things we won’t be able to.”

“That makes sense, you as a family are taking care of things.”

“That’s right.”

She shuffled a bit on her seat. “The attempt on your lives. Word is you know who did it.”

You turned on your seat and showed off your spine. “This is what I had to have done. The bullet that went through Levi went through me.” You sat back in your spot. “Levi has one too.” You reached over to him and touched the side of his neck. “He was also shot in the neck.”

Levi turned his head and kissed your hand. “It was a horrible day.”

You held Levi’s hand. “It happened on the day we were celebrating our engagement.”

Lucy welled up a little and clasped her hands together in front of her mouth. “Oh, you poor things. A day that was supposed to be celebrated became such a scary day. They say De’lore was behind it.”

Levi pulled you close to him. “That’s right. The sniper confessed he was hired by her.”

“I bet that is terrifying, especially when she threatened you at a charity event. We have a clip of that. Are you okay for us to show it?”

You nodded. “Yes.” You looked ahead and saw the clip playing. It was odd looking back on how she was and your reaction to it. At the time you were being tough, but seeing how she spoke to you was awful. “I can’t believe it.”

Levi hugged you. “You were amazing in that moment, so brave too. It’s a shock to see it back.”

Lucy placed her hand on her chest. “I can’t believe how she spoke to you. It really makes it clear that she wants you gone and the shooting had to be her.” She turned to the camera. “All of you out there watching this live, I know you saw this coming. We’ve had people trying to whistleblow about her and her businesses. If you’ve been mistreated by this woman and her business, please speak up. I know it’s hard to avoid her name on things, but I’m sure there are ways around it.”

You smiled. “There is. All the stuff I’m wearing and my makeup has nothing to do with her.”

Levi rubbed your back. “Her dress is from an amazing company. You find out what body shape you are and shop in that category.”

“That’s right.” You grinned. “So, they have a category for apple, hourglass, pear and all sorts. If they don’t have your shape, you measure yourself and send it in and they create a whole new line so people like you can get clothes too. You’ll get your first outfit at a big discount. It’s incredible.”

Lucy reached over. “May I touch the fabric?”

You lifted part of your dress for her. “Of course!”

“That’s so soft.”

You smiled. “The ladies who make these clothes are dedicated to women feeling comfortable in their own skin. Women come in all shapes and sizes, so do men and it’s hard to find the right fit and they help you. There is fair trade and equal wages too in their company.”

She clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful. They sound so perfect.”

Levi played with your hair. “Her makeup is cute.” He leaned closer and kissed your neck. “Though she is super cute first thing in the morning with no makeup on, messy bed hair and my shirt.”

You giggled as he nibbled your neck. “Thank you, my grumpy.” You smiled at Lucy. “The makeup I use is made by a married couple, both ladies are so friendly. It is nice for your skin, has organic materials in it, isn’t full of bad chemicals and you get this cute wand with it. So, you put the makeup on and use the wand and it keeps it on your skin. The wand activates it and it won’t rub off your skin. When you’re ready to take it off, you just turn the wand off and the makeup comes off so easily. You won’t need to use multiple wipes.”

Lucy inspected your skin. “It’s so flawless too. Is it on thick?”

“Nope. You don’t have to put it on thick and it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing anything, unlike De’lore.”

“Incredible!”

You gave the names of the companies and showed their social media pages, along with their websites so people could buy things. You cuddled up to Levi and started talking about your romance and how you met each other. You giggled as Levi got all flustered when you talked about how charming he was and how he chased you around.

Levi released a long sigh. “I was lovesick right away. Even though she thinks she wasn’t pretty when we first met, I thought she was so cute. I wanted to know everything about her and make her mine.”

“He spoiled me so much. He made up a job for me and created a cute desk.”

Levi blushed. “The job wasn’t made up.”

You giggled. “I know it was.”

He whined a bit. “Fine, fine, it was, but I wanted to keep you safe and make sure you knew how valuable you were. When I met you, you thought you were worth less than nothing.”

You welled up a little. “Levi.”

“You are my bunny goddess and you are worth so much.” He kissed you and hummed. “My precious bunny. If anyone dares to take you I will-.”

You covered Levi’s mouth with your hand. “Grumpy, we are live.”

Levi took your hand and showered it with kisses. “I’ll be a good boy.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

Lucy fanned herself. “My goodness, the fire between you is incredible. You are two parts of a big soul, together you form one perfect person.” She leaned closer. “I gotta ask, you two having kids?”

Levi yanked you onto his lap. “Yes. We’ll make the sweetest and most perfect babies ever.”

You laughed. “That’s what we want, yes.”

Lucy squealed. “They will be so cute!”

You smiled a little as Levi fixed your summer dress a bit. “Levi.”

He whined a bit. “I’m not sure about this.”

“It’s the only way.” You cupped his face. “Ariana has been ruined. I’ve taken everything from her, she has nothing now and I know she’ll want me dead. I have to become bait.”

He hugged you tightly. “But what if she hurts you.”

“She won’t. Your gang is in place ready to protect me and you will be watching. Trust me, Levi.”

He tapped his forehead against yours and released a sigh. “I love you.”

You tilted your head and kissed him. “I love you forever and always.” You released Levi. “Once we do this, then it’ll all be over.” You sighed again. “She’ll be gone.” You turned on your heels and walked outside the building. “Let’s do this.”

Levi watched you from inside the building. He reached up and pressed the earpiece in his ear. “The bunny has been released. Remember, follow at a distance. We have to make the snake think the bunny is alone.”

Sasha replied. “I’ve got my eagle eyes on her. Looks like everything is clear so far.”

Mike spoke. “Scouting ahead, can’t see anything yet either.”

Levi climbed the building, left the top parking area and climbed into his car with Erwin in the passenger. “I’m worried.”

Erwin looked over at his friend. “She’s a tough cookie. She can do this.”

He whined a bit as he started driving. “I just don’t want her to get hurt. She got beat up because of me and a debt. She had to get a new spine because of me.”

“She’s stronger and smarter than you think.” Erwin smiled. “She’s become a stronger woman. You’ve allowed her to grow.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I see a snake!” Sasha’s voice came through the earpiece. “She’s coming in hot and fast from the east. I think she might ram the bunny.”

Mike answered. “I’ve lost eyes on the bunny. She went through a building tunnel.”

Levi started to panic. “Bunny! I’ll race ahead. We have to find her car.” He drove ahead as his heart raced in his chest. “Come on bunny!” He drove his hover car around the building and saw Ariana’s car T-bone a parked car. “No…”

Ariana was driving fast and her rage was consuming her. All she could think about was killing you. You had ruined everything for her and after your live show, people were abandoning her left and right. All the money she had worked hard to build was now gone. She had never been this poor before. The only thing she wanted was for you to die.

She had followed you for a while and saw your car float into the building tunnel. She moved around the building and waited on the other side. As soon as you were out and parked in a nice spot, she floored and crashed the side of the car. Excitement surged through her because she knew that you had to be dead or dying. She stumbled out of her car and started laughing when blood dripped out the bottom of the door.

She opened her purse and pulled out her gold and pearl handgun. “I really hope you’re alive because I want to look you in the eyes when I shoot you in the head.” She walked closer in her designer high heels. “I don’t care what Danny says about you, you’re poison.” She glanced behind her to see a car pulling up making her smile. “More people who support me here to see you die.”

She fought with the door a little, it was heavy and stuck. A frustrated scream escaped her as she yanked on the door, but it wouldn’t open. She kicked the door a few times before yanking it open. A wicked laugh escaped her when she realised that the door was now open. She pulled it wide and saw there was nobody inside. All that remained inside the car were blood bags.

She glared. “What in the fuck!?”

“Amazing, right?”

She turned to see you in a stunning summer dress with a cute hat, your hair done nicely, pretty small heels and delicate makeup. At your side sat Hades with a cute bow. Ariana shook. “You should be dead…”

You folded your arms and popped your hip to the side. “Mm, no. Not yet. I have a long life to live.”

Ariana gripped her gun in her hand and Hades noticed. As soon as her hand twitched to move, he ran right for her and jumped. She lifted her hand with the gun but Hades was faster. He bit her wrist and ragged it causing her to drop the gun and scream in pain. She dropped to the floor before Hades released her. He bit her gun and ran over to you.

You took her gun and smiled. “Good boy.” You took the ammo out and sighed. “Did you think killing me would be so easy?” You walked closer to her. “I planned all of this out. I made sure that you wouldn’t and couldn’t win.” You leaned down and smiled at her. “You’ve lost to the woman who is fucking the son of your enemy. Isn’t that funny?”

Ariana screamed at you. “I hate you!”

“And I hate you. We have something in common.” You stood up and looked at cars turning up. “Oh, here comes the cavalry.”

Levi sprinted over to you. “Bunny!” He scooped you up into his arms and held you tightly. “Oh, my little bunny I thought that was your car and not the fake.”

You giggled. “I’m safe.” You showered his face with kisses. “You are the best.”

He put you down. “I guess I did use my brain in this one, huh?”

“You did.” You looked over to a car landing to see Vincent get out. “Your brother is here.”

Levi held you close as he watched his brother. “Let him process.”

Vincent stormed over to Ariana on the floor. He pulled his gun out and pointed at her face. With gritted teeth, he fought the tears stinging his eyes, but the emotions running through him were almost too much. “You…you…” He shook. “You were supposed to be my mother! I was nothing but this…tool to you…did…did you ever love me?”

Ariana panted as she held her arm. She stared up at Vincent. “What the fuck are you doing? You want to face off with me and try and get me to say I always loved you? You want me to say I regret being a bad mother?” She laughed. “You want me to fix your broken heart, huh? If you want me to be honest, Vincent, I wish I never gave birth to you. You’re a disappointment. I guess beating you was fun though. I destroyed my body for nothing.”

Vincent lowered his head and sobbed a little. “You…” He flinched when he heard a crack and Ariana scream. He looked up to see you pulling your fist back. He softly said your name. “Why?”

Levi pulled Vincent back. “Because we’re family.”

You shook your hand. “Your face is hard from all those surgeries, fuck me.” You hugged your arm to your chest. “Kuchel? You wanna hit in?”

Kuchel ran over and hit Ariana hard. “Vincent is my baby! Mine! I love that boy! He’s my son!”

Sebastian picked up Kuchel as she thrashed about. “Darling kitten, put the claws away.”

Vincent turned and hugged Levi. “Thank you.”

Levi rubbed Vincent’s back. “You don’t need her, okay? Now, where’s my confident and cocky big brother?”

“I’m here, you short handsome man.”

Levi shoved his brother off. “I’m not short.”

You hugged Levi tightly. “He’s perfect size. He’s my big man.”

Levi squeezed you. “Thank you.”

“So, what now? What are we going to do with her?”

Levi picked you up. “Don’t worry about that.”

You pouted. “But Levi.”

“Remember I told you that I would tell you about my mafia life, but some things will remain a secret to protect your cute head?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He carried you to his car. “This is one of those times.”

“Okay, I’ll be a good girl.”

He sat you inside the car. “Good, thank you.” You looked around him. “Is Vincent going to be okay? Vincent! Do you want to stay over ours?”

Vincent laughed. “Thank you, but I’ll stay with mum and dad.”

“Okay! You can come over anytime though!”

“Thank you!”

You sat back. “He’s nice. Oh, someone wants you to call them a good boy.”

He looked down at Hades as he sat with his tail wagging. “There’s my boy. You protected your mummy so well!” He fussed Hades. “Good boy!” He chuckled. “I’m going to get you a wonderful reward.”

“He deserves a massive bone.”

“He does.” Levi let Hades into the car. “Look after mummy a bit, I need to talk to everyone for a bit.”

You waved. “Be good.”

“Can’t promise that, bunny.”

You giggled. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

Levi paused a moment as he registered what you said. He smirked a bit. “Dirty bunny. I’ll punish you later.”

You sat back in the car and let out a long sigh. “I love that man so much.”

Hades lay his head on your lap wanting a fuss, so you gave it to him. It all seemed so peaceful now and safe. Your eyes closed as the tension in your body went. You didn’t realise how much you’d been clenched up, or how much anxiety was deep in you. Facing off against Ariana was a scary thing for you, there could have been so many things that could have gone wrong, but they didn’t.

You started laughing as tears ran down your cheeks. You rubbed your tears away as you kept laughing. A part of you couldn’t believe you were alive and well, that you had survived all of this. It made you feel so free now that this madness was over. The next steps for you now were marriage and kids.

You perked up when Levi got into the car. “Hey, grumpy.”

Levi gazed at you. “Are you okay? You’ve been crying.”

“I just…it was that crying where you laugh. I’m just relieved.”

Levi held you close. “I understand. I do.” He kissed the top of your head. “Let’s get home, eat some food, watch some TV and have amazing sex.”

You laughed. “Sounds perfect.”

Your mother fixed your hair for you and smiled. “You look like a princess.”

You welled up as a mix of emotions went through you. “Thank you.”

“I can’t believe you’re getting married. It seems like only yesterday you were a baby in my arms.”

You hummed a laugh. “Time flies, huh?”

“Levi is the perfect man. I won’t question his job.”

You giggled as you walked with her. “Best not to, mum.” You walked over to your maid of honour, you knew there was no one better for the job. “Vincent, do you have my flowers?”

“I do.” He smirked and handed you the flowers. “You know, I still can’t believe you asked me to do this. It’s the best thing ever.”

You hummed a laugh. “I couldn’t think of anyone more perfect. Also, my party was amazing.”

“You’re welcome.” He put his arm around you. “You ready?”

“I sure am.”

He stopped you. “Are you sure? I mean, we could run away together now.”

You laughed. “Vincent.”

He winked at you. “Got you to laugh. Sorry, you looked like you were nervous as shit.”

“Thank you, I feel better now.”

“Good.” He put his arm around you. “Now, let’s take you to go make the biggest mistake of your life.”

Your mother laughed. “Vincent!”

You backhanded his chest. “Vincent.”

He laughed. “I’m kidding! Levi is the best. I love my little brother.” He stopped in front of your dad. “She’s all yours.”

Your father offered his arm. “Come on, pet.”

You linked your arm with your father’s and walked towards the carpet laid out. A wedding in a garden was a dream come true and had you and Levi all over it. The peace and quiet were everything you needed. All the decorations were delicate and sweet. Levi had thought about everything when he set up this place. You were happy and deeply in love with Levi.

As soon as you locked eyes with Levi you started smiling and couldn’t stop smiling. Levi’s eyes widened when he saw you. A deep blush spread on his cheeks as his heart skipped a beat. He smiled so lovingly at you and walked towards you. Levi ignored the laughs and whispers as he ran towards you. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him.

Your father chuckled. “Now that is a man in love. She is all yours.”

Levi pulled back a bit. “Sorry, I squished your flowers.”

You giggled. “It’s okay.”

Levi smiled at your father. “Thank you.” He moved you towards the front. “You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look so handsome. Your suit is perfect.”

“Yeah? I’m glad.” He hugged you close with one arm. “I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

You giggled. “It’s a dream.” You looked in front to see Sebastian. “Your dad is marrying us?”

Levi nodded. “He insisted.”

You hummed a laugh and hugged Levi’s arm as Sebastian read a few things and then allowed you and Levi to say your vows, of course, Levi moved you with his words of love and devotion to you. Your heart was filled with love and joy. He always made you feel like you were the single most beautiful person in the world.

Levi held your hands and said your name. “I would never die for you. I would never give my life up for you. Dying is too easy. Living is hard, it’s the hardest thing in the world for some. I want to live for you. Every single moment of my life will be dedicated to you and being with you. I eat, sleep, work, breathe and live for you. All the things I do in my life either involve you or it is for you. The way I view the future is different now. There are so many things I look forward to. Since you, I worry more, I fear more, I’m anxious more, but I smile more, I laugh more, I sing more, I do more and I enjoy every single moment. I explore my emotions and let them all out. I know that I can do anything in this life because I have you right by my side. Sometimes I worry that saying I love you is not enough to help you understand just how much I do love you, but sometimes those three words are all I need. I love you.”

You welled up a little and sniffed. “Incredible as always, Levi. You just have a way with words.” You wiped your tears away. “Damn, um I don’t know if I can come close to your vows. You’re so beautiful.”

He cupped your face and kissed your forehead. “I want to hear.”

You nibbled your lip. “For a long time, I was never happy. I didn't know what happiness was. I longed for happiness that I saw others having, but as time went on it seemed like it was not meant for me. I didn’t know what my purpose or what life had in store for me.” You gulped hard. “I let so many people walk all over me and I thought that was it, that was my life. You just appeared in my life like this black knight. You made me see that I am beautiful, smart, funny and kind. I gained a purpose in life and every single day with you was bright and full of colour. I have come to love myself and grow so brightly. Now I am excited for what life brings next. I’m excited for new things. I’m excited to go out there into the world. Every day I spend with you is pure deep happiness. I never knew happiness was this incredible. My happiness is you, all of you. I love you Levi more than anything. I will keep telling you every day I love you just so you know just how much and how deeply my love for you is.”

He smiled at you. “Adorable.”

You lowered your voice to a whisper. “I felt like that sucked compared to you.”

“You were incredible.” He exchanged the rings with you. “You are always incredible.”

Sebastian smiled. “You both may kiss.”

Levi yanked you against him and crashed his lips against yours. “Mine.”

You giggled. “Yours.”

“You ready for dinner?”

You nodded. “I’m starved.”

He scooped you up in his arms and started walking with you. “Mine.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you forever and always.” He carried you to a little area just for you and him. He sat you down as your friends and family took their seats at other tables. “A nice little private spot for you and me.”

You shuffled closer and kissed him. “Yes.”

“I’m so glad everything is good again.” He sighed. “We have a nice perfect wedding.”

You hummed a laugh. “You disappointed that nothing went crazy?”

He smirked. “Well, a few explosions and gunfire might make it more exciting.” He leaned over and kissed you. “Though a lot of the exciting stuff will happen tonight in our room.”

You purred. “It will.” You massaged Levi’s Levi as you watched your guests. “Do you know what I find weird?”

He hummed at you. “Tell me.”

“That people are taking pictures and trying to film us.”

Levi nuzzled the crook of your neck. “That happens when you’re an Ackerman.” He kissed you and sighed. “So, how long before we can have a baby?”

You giggled at how sweet he was. “We can give it three years.”

“One.”

“Two.”

He hummed in thought. “Okay, two.” He hugged you tightly. “I know you getting the spine was a bad day, but it is a good things because it’ll keep you strong.”

You smiled at Levi. “Yes.” You kissed Levi and sighed. “How about one session of baby making tonight, hmm? My wedding present to you.”

Levi perked up. “Yes please.”

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #fanfic #levi x reader #levi x yn #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #jelly fanfics

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nykie-love-anime · 1 year ago

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Day 11 ~ Clothes Part 1

Clothing Prompts Ideas by street-crimes

Rick

(Best Friends Father – Beth – Female!Reader [34])

“Should I dress casual or fancy?” you called into the Smith family home. “What are you talking about Y/N.” you heard from behind you quickly spinning around you are met with the one and only Rick Sanchez. “Wow I haven’t seen you in a while Mr Sanchez.” You smiled at the older man and he looked down at the bag in your hand still waiting for an explanation. “Oh, oh yeah Beth invited me to dinner for Morty’s birthday. And I wasn’t sure where we are going to eat to I brought a few options.” You provided.

“As far as I know, and you know I am always correct. It is just casual. Morty doesn’t do fancy for birthdays.” He smirked down at you as you sit on the dining table chair. “Don’t I know it Rick.” You grinned up at the older man you have had a crush on since you were like 18 years old. “So how does it feel to have a grandson that is 18 years old? Does it like make you feel old or something?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk forming as you see his face contort to shock.

“Nothing different from a dumbass 17 year old.” He chuckled standing in front of you trapping you between the table and himself. “Just so you know this ol… old man can rock your wor… world.” He muttered with a smirk on his face knowing that he is getting to you.

“So when can I take you out?” he smirked at the blush forming on your cheeks. “Uuuuh, I am free this Friday after 17:00.” You sputtered blushing looking down at the floor to avoid his knowing grin. “Good see you Friday then.” He said finally giving in and pulling you into a kiss. As you are busy moving your mouths together you didn’t hear the footsteps coming down until you hear a loud gasp quickly pulling away from Rick you see Beth with a shocked expression. “Beth I can explain.” “Sweetie we can explain.” Both you and Rick yelled at the same time.

“I love you in anything you wear.” “Come on Rick you did not even look.” You whined causing said man to chuckled. “Well…well.” He burped out. “I know you look sexy in anything you wear babe.” He teased with a smirk as you blushed. “Okay well next time please look at me when you’re talking.” You hugged him from behind. “Yeah…yeah whatever you say.” He chuckled as you pulled away from the hug going back upstairs.

“I still can’t believe mom is okay with you dating her best friend.” “Shu… shut the hell up Summer.” He looked at his granddaughter. “Whatever grandpa, just know mom is going to kill you if you hurt Y/N she has been with the family for as long as I can remember.”

“Can I borrow a hoodie?” you question the scientist as he is currently busy working on some weird science project. “I don’t know, will I get it back this time?” he looked up with a shit eating grin knowing you are going to complain and he loves making you bitch about some shit thing going on. “Man screw you.” You started laughing. “It was one time that I didn’t give it back but it was only because I missed you when you were in space jail.”

“What… whatever just take the jacket, if you are done you can return it to me personally so that I know my girl… girlfriend is not a thieve.” You thanked the man and all he could do is nod as he watched you walk away. ‘Man that is one perky ass.’ He thought and you shake you butt knowing that he is looking just to get a reaction out of the man you love. And reaction you got.

Beth

(Best Friends Mother – Summer – Male!Reader[21])

“Let me tie your shoes they’re undone Mrs Smith.” You looked at the older woman falling down on your knees before you friends mom. “Why aren’t you a perfect little gentleman Y/N.” “Well my mama did raise me to be good to everyone especially hot women like yourself Mrs Smith.” You flirted and she just giggled. “Well thank you anyway nobody wants to do that for me anymore.” She replied sadly.

“Well Beth you have nothing to worry about. Jerry is an asshole for leaving you the way he did. If you were my wife I would treat you like a queen. I would show you off to the world and I would never, ever let you cry because of me being an asshole.” You smiled at the older woman and she just blushed. “Well thank you I really needed to hear something positive today.” She smiled and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself.

Kissing her felt wonderful. Moving in sync you pushed forward trapping her between yourself and the kitchen counter. Pulling away to catch you breath you look forward and are met with a shocked Morty standing there with Rick who could give less of a fuck about what is going on. “Please don’t say anything to Summer she is going to kill me.” You begged and Morty just nodded still shocked.

“Will you hold my phone? I don’t have pockets.” Beth questions as you guys are out to dinner as a family and friend pack. “Sure thing babe.” You said without thinking. You are shocked at what just left your mouth and the only one surprised to hear it was Summer. “Okay I am not even going to address this shit.” She started with her fork stopping midway to her mouth. “Just know I know a lot of people that can take you out if you hurt my mom.” “Hehe.” You muttered out knowing that she is not kidding.

“I promise I won’t hurt your mom I really do like her. And if you ever feel awkward about something going on we can always talk about it.” You smiled at your best friend. “Ew where is the boy that thought girl had cooties. I miss him.” She teased but nonetheless nodded with a small smile. “Ok…okay now that the weird shit is out, please stop making out on the couch. I love you sweetie but I really don’t feel like walking in on you and Y/N.” After a bit of a tense moment everything went back to normal and you guys enjoyed the meal.

Jerry and Beth

(Best Friends Parents – Summer – Female!Reader [25])

“I’ll hold your heels if you want to take them off.” You turn to your boyfriend with a smile. “I know they hurt.” He continued as you take of your heels from the date you just got done with. Taking hold of Beth’s arm as she holds it out with a smile. “Guys I really had a wonderful night tonight. We should really do this again sometime. Not that home dates are a bad thing it’s just fun going out with you two you know.” You smiled at your partners.

“Well I know I had a lot of fun.” Jerry started. “I would also like to go out again.” He concluded and Beth nodded with a giggle. “And you know it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it will be going out together. People didn’t look at us weirdly and they just left us alone.” You giggled and kissed her on the lips. “I love you so much Mrs Smith.” You turned towards the man that you love. “And I love you as well Mr Smith.” With a quick kiss you pull away.

Running towards the car you can’t help but giggle. “Come on slow pokes the night just only started. Rick and the kids are out on an adventure so we will have the whole house to ourselves.” You wiggled your eyebrows and they nodded. “Well then let’s get a move on.” Beth said with a smile as Jerry got into the driver seat pulling out as fast as he can without bumping into anyone.

Day 10 | Masterlist | Day 12

#y/n #fluff #reader #female reader #y/n imagines #fem!reader #rick and morty #rick sanchez #beth smith #summer smith #morty smith #jerry smith #rick sanchez x reader #jerry smith x reader #beth smith x reader #rick and morty imagines #fluffy june prompts day 11

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newtonsheffield · 2 years ago

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Till forever falls apart is becoming my favourite story you’ve ever written. The yearning, the hard times, the light moments and all while going through something traumatic. It just gets me every time. Brava Molly, you’ve truly outdone yourself. Any chance we can see post war Kathony being cute together 😍 I’ll take anything you’d give me

I'm so glad people are enjoying it. I know it has a bit of a different feel to my other fics but it's maybe my favourite current WiP so... yeah. I'm enjoying writing it.

Let's see a little bit of Anthony's bookshop

"Papa! A person!"

Anthony chuckled as the bell chimed over the door alerting him to the person anyway. Anthony put down the books he was reshelving, picked up his cane and made his way back through the store.

Anthony sighed as he look at his son, scrambling down from the counter to greet the customer, all enthusiasm at just two years old.

"I'm Neddy, you wanna book?

The man blinked down at him a little surprised, twirling his hat around, "I... Is there someone else...?"

"Hello, can I help you?"

The man seemed to relax but still he looked around a little awkwardly, "I'm looking for a book for my nephew, I'm not sure what he might like."

Anthony smiled, picking his son up and resting him on his hip, kissing his head quickly, "Well our children's books are over this way I'm sure we can find you something."

"This is my favourite one." Neddy said thrusting a book at the man, "It's about a rabbit named Peter."

Anthony smiled down at his son and his heart leapt into his throat. He couldn't believe it sometimes, even after so long. He couldn't believe he'd come through the war mostly unscathed when so many men hadn't. There were so many men that he'd known since childhood and gone to school with who would never get to do this. Better men, arguably, than he had been. And yet he was the one left here.

He might have been dragged to his lowest point, sure, he'd stood on the grass at Thriplow house and sweat had run down his forehead as he'd tried to take a single step. And inexplicably, Kate had been there every step of the way. Her hands had held his and her voice had been gentle in his ear when they laid side by side under the sunlight.

I'm falling in love with you

He'd promised himself he'd be someone who was worth the chance he'd been given. He would live his entire life, love his wife and their children and he'd be present for them. He'd stood in their bedroom, with Neddy in his arms for the very first time and he hadn't even bothered to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Kate, I love him so much. I love you so much."

Anthony had promised himself he was going to spend as much time as possible with his children. Even here in this little store.

The man smiled at Edmund, taking the book from his hand. "I think I'll get this one then, excellent recommendation sir."

"Thank you." Neddy said, leading the man to the counter, "I help my Papa with the books."

"You do a great job."

"He does do a pretty good job."

Anthony started at the sound of his wife's voice, spinning towards where she'd snuck through the door while he was distracted. She was still dressed in her uniform, her coat pulled tight around herself, the swell of her stomach just becoming visible.

"Mama!" Neddy squeaked, abandoning the man who'd been trying to slide his money across the counter to him in favour of hugging his mother around the legs, bouncing with excitement.

Anthony smiled at the man and took his money, passing him his change before he wrapped the book in brown paper. "I hope your nephew enjoys it."

"You have a beautiful family."

"I know, I'm very lucky."

The bell rang above the door as the man left and finally, he turned his attention to Kate.

"Everything all right?"

Kate chuckled, leaning against him, tucking herself into his side, Neddy wrapping his arms around both of their legs. "Everything's fine I was just walking home and I thought why not check on my handsome boys?"

"We appreciate it." Anthony kissed her cheek, resting his hand on her stomach, "How're my girls?"

"Your wife's fine, and your son is doing well also."

"Say what you will, but this is a girl."

"It isn't." Kate clicked her tongue, "You look handsome today though, I like this sweater vest."

"Yes, a pretty girl made it for me."

"Charmer."

"I try my best."

#till forever falls apart au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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legen-wait-for-it-drarry · 2 years ago

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second date

February 1st prompt for @hdcandyheartsfest: second date

(for my lovely, oblivious wife, who, at the end of our first date, still didn’t know whether I liked her or not. even after I kissed her.)

- : -

Decades of friendship be damned, he was going to murder Hermione for this.

“You need to get back out there, Harry,” she’d said, matter-of-factly, and then, before Harry could respond, she had conjured up charts - from behind the couch, not magically - and she was using her ‘called-on-in-class’ voice. Only this time the subject was his love life.

Still, the nostalgia had hit him the same way it did when he’d occasionally go back to Hogwarts to watch Quidditch matches, and he couldn’t help but smile at her. And maybe that’d had something to do with him saying yes to her absolutely bonkers idea of setting him up on a blind date.

“I need you to trust me,” Hermione had said so earnestly that it had worried him a little. It’s not that he’s shallow, per se, but that’s not exactly a phrase someone offers before setting you up with a supermodel. But he didn’t think Hermione was going to set him up with an actual troll or anything, so he agreed. Still, he continued to worry.

“I need you to trust me” rang in his head as he showered and then stood in front of his mirror, trying to do something to make his hair manageable.

“I need you to trust me” echoed around his brain as he got dressed, looked in the mirror, reconsidered, and changed. Twice.

“I need you to trust me” danced around in his mind, the words doing all sorts of fancy ballet moves, as he paced around his flat, back and forth for ten minutes, watching the clock the whole time, before giving up and Apparating out to the bar twenty minutes early.

His date still has ten minutes to arrive before Harry can even think about adding ‘being stood up’ to his list of concerns about this date, though that idea still makes his stomach clench unpleasantly. He takes a big gulp of water and tries to calm down and stop thinking about murdering one of his oldest friends. But really, he can’t believe he’d agreed to this nonsense.

“I should’ve known it’d be you,” a voice says, sounding only slightly exasperated. Harry swivels around on his chair, spilling ice water down his front, and watches in stunned silence as Draco Malfoy walks up to his table and sits in the unoccupied chair. “It’s nice that after all these years, Granger is just as predictable as ever.”

“It somehow never occurred to me that it would be you,” he manages to say, honesty spilling from his lips before he can consider if it’s too rude to say. Draco doesn’t look offended, however; he looks perfectly unaffected as he reaches out to the pitcher of ice water and pours himself a glass.

“No? Then I’m afraid you may not know your best friend as well as you think you do,” he says, and Harry bristles a little and opens his mouth to argue. The insufferable bastard across from him arches an eyebrow and Harry pauses. Considers his current predicament.

Hermione’s been working with Malfoy – well, slightly Malfoy-adjacent - for about six years now, but he’s never really come up in all of her stories about her coworkers at St Mungos. They work in different departments, after all, and Hermione’s constantly so busy that it never occurred to him that she has a life outside of, well… the things he already knows about. When on earth does she have time for it all?

“You know what,” Harry says finally, “maybe you’re right.” And then he flags down a passing server for drinks, says “keep them coming, thanks,” and settles in for what is sure to be, at the very least, an interesting evening.

- : -

“So, you didn’t tell her?” Draco is saying a while later, and he’s doing that obnoxious sexy smirking thing that he does and – nope. Harry shakes off that thought. Then pauses. He’s on a date with the man, shouldn’t finding him attractive be a good thing?

The waiter brings his 3rd drink. Offers Draco another.

“I’m good with water, thanks,” Draco says. Then, to Harry, he says, “Should I be offended that you have to be inebriated to tolerate my presence?” Harry pulls a face at him.

“I’m not inebriated,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Not for lack of trying.”

“Worried about taking advantage, Malfoy?”

“Hardly,” Malfoy says. “I don’t put out until the third date, anyway. Why didn’t you tell Hermione?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject before Harry’s mind can dwell very long on the rest of his sentence.

“What?” he says instead, and the look Draco gives him makes him feel like he’s not making a good case for his sobriety.

“You’re so astounded that Hermione didn’t tell you about our passing acquaintanceship, but you never told her about…” he pauses for a second, “our history?”

“It didn’t matter,” Harry says dismissively, then cringes. “I mean –”

“No, no, by all means, don’t stop being honest now,” Draco says, putting up a hand to wave off any potential backtracking.

“My dating life doesn’t matter,” Harry pushes on anyway. “I don’t really tell her about every date I go on. I tend to keep her out of my love life ever since Ginny. They’re friends, I don’t want to make it weird.” And, oh gods, why is he telling Malfoy all of this anyway? It’s none of his business either.

“It’s probably why she feels the incessant urge to set you up on blind dates,” Draco points out, because of course he had to go and make a decent point on top of everything else. On top of being attractive and insufferable.

He’s definitely going to kill Hermione. Or at the very least, jinx her with something mildly unpleasant.

“In my defence,” Harry says, using a toothpick to fish in his bourbon cocktail for a cherry, “I thought it was going to be a first date, not a sequel to a notoriously bad first date.”

“Notoriously bad for you, maybe - didn’t even break my bottom 10,” Draco says dismissively. Harry snorts.

“Wasn’t bad for you,” he says darkly, “I got a concussion. How many of your dates have ended at the hospital?”

“It’s not unheard of,” Draco says vaguely. “I do work there, after all.”

“You take a lot of your dates to work with you? Remind me why you’re still single?”

At that, Draco rolls his eyes. “I did not ‘take you to work with me’, I didn’t even work there yet,” he snaps, getting agitated enough to use actual air quotes. He looks at his hands in midair as though he can’t believe it himself and immediately puts them back down. One goes to the bridge of his nose, the other clenches on the table. “You can’t possibly blame me for your concussion.”

“I took you ice skating, you’re the one who had to take something that was supposed to be romantic and make it all competitive.”

“I didn’t –”

“You absolutely did,” Harry adds, before Draco can bother denying it. “Probably traumatised a bunch of schoolchildren in the process.”

Draco mouth clicks audibly as it shuts. He clears his throat and, to Harry’s great surprise, his cheeks are a little pink. He looks down into his glass of water, determinedly not making eye contact. “I didn’t realise it was a date,” he says finally, after one more throat clear.

“What?” Harry asks, though he’s quite sure he heard him properly.

Draco sighs. He finally looks up, but this time makes eye contact with a spot just above Harry’s head. “Until the end, when you joked about it being one of the worst dates you’d been on. I didn’t realise we were on a date.”

“Jesus, Malfoy, you thought I just casually asked you out to go ice skating?” Harry says, and then, before he can help himself, he’s laughing.

“Your invitation happened to come a mere week after Hermione asked me over for drinks, I thought it was simply a coordinated effort to… foster amity.”

“Foster amity,” Harry repeats, rolling his eyes, but he’s still grinning. Everything is sort of clicking into place. “No, you oblivious git, I liked you.”

“Oh,” Draco says. A few different expressions cross his face before finally settling on one Harry doesn’t recognise. That pink tinge is still splashed across his cheekbones. Harry kind of likes it. “Past tense?” he asks finally, this time actually making eye contact and the weight of it makes Harry’s stomach clench.

He blinks at him. Wonders what Draco would say if he were honest, if he admitted how long he’s fancied him. “I… well. No, not necessarily,” he says instead, and now, the look on Draco’s face is definitely pleased.

He might actually thank Hermione for this.

“Well then,” Draco says, sitting up straight in his seat and smoothing out his already wrinkle-free shirt. “I propose we start over.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Harry asks warily.

“It’s not really a difficult concept; I’m simply proposing a fresh start. Restart the date with both of us knowing it’s a date and knowing we’ve come here to go on a date with each other.”

Harry looks around the bar. All around him, chairs are stacked upside down on top of tables, and he can see a tired-looking employee in the far corner, sweeping the floor and shooting them glances.

“Not a bad idea, but I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

“Any ideas on where we can go?” Draco asks, standing and pulling out his wallet to pay for Harry’s drinks.

“Depends,” Harry says, then, unable to resist, he lowers his voice suggestively and smirks. “Does this technically count as our third date now?”

It takes Draco just a second to understand the implication, but when he does, that pretty blush is back again. He almost fumbles as he puts his wallet away.

“Good grief,” he mutters, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. “You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

Harry leans over, catches his hand. Tangles their fingers together. Much to his delight, this only seems to fluster Draco further.

He’s going to send Hermione flowers.

“Absolutely not,” he says emphatically and uses his grip to pull Draco closer. “Just in case you’re still lagging behind here, I’m going to kiss you now. Is that alright?”

(And because Draco still has to take something romantic and make it competitive, he leans in and kisses Harry first.)

#drarry #my fic #fanfic #prompt: second date #rating: g?#idk this seems pretty g rated lol #fluff #draco/harry #harry x draco #draco x harry #drarry fic #hdcandyheartsfest2023

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ihaveaworminmyass · 2 months ago

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Update on the Frankenstein fic

Hi! Heres currently I guess what the prologue would be and sets the story. I would appreciate constructive feedback on my work.

When you were born your parents knew that you'd do spectacular things someday. Even if to them those spectacular things were being a good wife, mother and daughter. Instead of focusing on trivial things such as cooking, cleaning, sewing, embroidering and whatever traditional tasks your mother thought would be important you wanted to learn more about science and reasoning. Your close friend at this age shared the same wondrous mind as you did. His curiosities were more life and death oriented while you were fixated on the mind itself. How does such a thing work together with the rest of your body? Were people born cruel? Things to that knowledge intrigued you deeply. Due to your friendship with Victor, your fellow scientific enthusiast, many assumed you'd marry. Not that victor was ugly or unfit; he simply wasn't what you wanted in a man. When you two would read together during your spare time he'd get so engrossed in his books he'd sometimes completely forget you were there.

You weren't interested in death to the same degree he was. But still you both had a very close connection to one another. He was a good friend. Since you two were around one another a lot you'd grown close to his family. Especially his angel of a mother, she was the sweetest woman you'd ever met. Plus she was the only other woman in your life to support your curiosity and not try to shame you for it. She was a breath of fresh air that you desperately breathed in and enjoyed. You were there with Victor and Elizabeth when she passed. She held their hand and died quite peacefully despite the scarlet fever.

You knew one day you wouldn't be able to continue your escapade for psychological endeavors. But for those seventeen years with Victor you were allowed to explore these questions in your mind. The day he'd leave for college and your parents would finally realize that you truly wouldn't marry him would soon come. So now you sit with Victor the day before he's to be sent off. “Ingolstadt? But that's so far. Will you be trying to visit during the holidays?” you ask and eat Milchreis your mother had paired with fresh strawberries and apple slices. “Yes of course I do. What son would I be if I didn't visit?” He mumbles out, his nose buried in his book. “I swear you've read that book more times than I have fingers.” You say with a slight chuckle.

“You ought to try reading more. After today I'm sure your mother will push you into more traditional things. You're one of the only Ladies of our class without any marital propositions.” He shuts his book and leans back against the tree. “Well who am I to marry? I find none of the men of this town to be to my taste. They are too needy, childish and unwilling to allow me my study time.” You say with a sigh. “My mother wishes to marry me off to Cain Bergström.” your shudder at the thought. But victor seems to find it hilarious. “Bergström? That…thing? You may need to read up on the mind more since your mother may not be alright in hers.” A playful gasp leaves your lips as he spoke and you burst out in a loud laugh. “Victor! What a cruel thing to say!” he ends up laughing alongside you. Only with him were you so willing to not hide your ‘unladylike’ laughter as your mother’d put it.

When the two of you come down from your fit of laughter you wipe the happy tears off your cheeks. The sun was setting and you knew you should be getting home. “Thank you for spending time with me before you leave. Do you promise to write?” You stand up and dust the dead grass and dirt from your dress. “I will try to. Maybe you and the rest of my family can visit sometime?” When he said ‘the rest of my family’ a small smile appeared on your lips. “How kind of you, Victor. You think us to be so close were on familial terms!” Your smile widens. “Well yes. You're like a twin sister. A semi annoying and weird twin sister.” he replies with a smirk. “We must be twins entirely then! For all that you've used to describe me applies to you as well.” you reply smugly.

He chuckles lowly “I pray for your future husband. Only god knows you can never hold your tongue.” he stands up alongside you and stretches. “We should be off.” he adds as you two walk back to his house. Your mother allowed you to spend the night as long as you slept in the furthest room from any of the men. You couldn't really sleep that night, the day Victor leaves is the day the trajectory of your life changes.

Your sleep wasn't very fulfilling but due to the sun now rising you had to get up. Quickly you change and leave the room to see Victor before he would leave. Already he was getting his luggage ready and saying goodbyes. You walk up to him and hug him. “I'll miss you Victor” you say and tighten your arms around him. “Of course you will.” he says and you nudge him in the stomach with your elbow. He simply scoffs and sighs. “Ill miss you too. While I'm in university I promise to write you about all the wondrous things i'll learn.” Tears prick your eyes and you squeeze harder. “When you're back, will you teach your studies to me?” you ask and sniffle. You feel him nod against your skin “If your mother tries anything, promise to write to me.” he cups your cheeks and you nod.

Soon you step away so the remaining others will have their turn to say goodbye to him. Elizabeth approaches Victor with a sad smile. “I will miss you dearly.” he cups her cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “As will I. Keep me up to date with any familial matters.” Elizabeth then smiles and nods. “I will, Victor!” He nods one last time at her before departing. A sinking feeling of sadness fills your stomach and tears fill your eyes. Your parents would be expecting you to return soon. You grab your handkerchief and wipe the tears from your cheeks. You hear Elizabeth's voice beside you, “I know we were never close but if anything happens,” she says with emphasis on anything. “Please do not be afraid to confide in me.” She hugs you and walks back to the home. With a heavy sigh you begin your walk home.

@yiboistbunnyrabbit7

#frankenstein #fanfiction #a03 writer

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werewolfroman · 1 year ago

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WHERE: Paranormal Beans & Comics WHO: @matthewbaudelaire & @duderosiers

Just a couple hours before noon, before Roman stirred awake from his slumber. The oncoming headache caused him to groan, why did he have to kill that cheap bottle of whiskey last night? Still, he pushed forward knowing today was an important chapter in his life. A day that could set the standard between Matthew and himself. Perhaps, if things went well it meant he could finally have that relationship he longed for all these years. Or it could do the opposite and completely turn Matthew away from him, the odds currently were 50/50.

Roman was hoping to strengthen his odds as he stepped in the shower and cleaned off the stench of the auto shop, whiskey and who knows what other stenches clinging to him. Once out, he stared at himself and began grooming himself. It had been awhile since he trimmed his beard and today he had real reason to groom himself, truth be told it had been awhile since he cared to put in any effort in his appearance. Hell, he even got out the nice underwear that didn’t have holes in it. Although it was casual, Matthew didn’t really give Roman much to go off, besides where to meet and what time. So, he decided to dress nice and not in his usual jeans and white tank top. Instead, he got out some black slacks, nice leather shoes hidden in his closet and a nice button up shirt. Only problem, the clothes practically swallowed his thin stature, strange what less than two years could do to someone. But, any of his other nice clothes would do the same so he decided to go with it. Maybe, it would be a point in his favor that he at least attempted to put in effort.

Call it military training, always needing to show up at least fifteen minutes early. After all, if you’re not early, you’re late. A motto drilled into the wolf when he signed his life way to the government all those years ago. In his truck, he looked into the mirror to check himself once more. You can do this. In reality, he was not exactly sure if those words rang true. The man pulled out his wallet and then lifted his wife’s picture from its spot to stare at the beautiful woman for a couple minutes. “Corey says our son is happy,” he softly spoke to the photo, his eyes starting to water. “I don’t believe in a lot, but I do believe in you. Give me strength.” Sure, it was just a picture of the woman he loved all these years from when they first got married, but she was the closest thing to G-d he ever knew.

Before he exited the truck, he reached down and pulled out his flask and took two swigs so his nerves would calm and his hands wouldn’t be shaking at the table. And just like many like him, he kept a small bottle of mouthwash in his truck to mask the scent of whiskey on his breath. “Alright, you got this.” Another few words of encouragement as he exited his truck and headed inside. When he entered, he didn’t see Matthew and checked down at his phone to see he still had some time to spare. His dark eyes scanned the place, the area was fairly open. Most likely the reason his eldest chose this place. Somewhere where he would not cause a scene, somewhere very public. Finding the furthest table from the entrance, he sat with his back against the wall…another military training stuck in his mind as he waited patiently

#(chat | matthew)#(matthew | 008)#(chat | jean-claude)#(jean-claude | 001)#alcoholism tw #dysfunctional family tw

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purplewitch156 · 9 months ago

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Deimos and running from the dark for the wip tag game!! Love ur works

I think I’m nearing the final act of Deimos! It’s a thrilling thought. We are currently at 156 thousand words. Here’s a little snippet from Ch. 30.

>>>

The items the room conjured could only exist within its walls. Tom learned that the moment he tried taking Secrets of the Darkest Art to his dormitory. The book vanished from his hands the moment he stepped into the corridor, but it was better this way. Harry could not discover that he’d learned the steps to making Horcruxes. He didn’t even risk taking notes. The safest place was his mind. Occlumency was added to his private, extracurricular course studies.

With each passing day, the plan solidified in shape. It sprouted from his heart, growing thick leaves of pointed ivy, coiling around his spine, rooting along the lifeblood of his veins, reaching down to his fingers and toes. Its buds plumped with confidence and grew fat on sureness, but they could not bloom yet. Not yet. Harry wasn’t ready yet.

>>>

Running from the Dark is yet another story that was inspired by Kelly Link. I’m still trying to nail this one down. The title comes from this line in Zella Day’s song The Outlaw Josey Wales:

Storm's coming and you've been running from the dark clouds

Link’s story The Lady and the Fox is the core inspiration. In it, the protagonist meets a young man standing out in the snow during a Christmas get-together. He looks very out of place and clearly wants to go inside, but can’t. He vanishes the moment the snow stops. This repeats as the main character grows older. When it snows, during the holiday, he shows up, and she ends up falling in love with him and frees him from the curse that keeps in frozen in time.

In Running from the Dark, I’m imagining a non-magic setting where Tom is raised by his parents in Riddle House. My personal headcanon, if such a thing occurred, is that Tom would not have the most loving of childhoods. I picture Tom Sr. choosing to take care of his son and wife more out of duty or public shame rather than love. I always imagine him rather cold and uncaring and his parents even more so. So Tom in this setting is often left to his own devices and ignored.

During one of the Christmas parties his father and grandparents are putting on (I think I will put Tom’s mother in a mental institute while he’s at a young age, but we’ll see), Tom grows bored with the festivities (he’s gonna by young, maybe 11?) and returns to his room. While reading in bed, his door opens and a guest slips inside. The guest is clearly hiding from someone or something and snaps at Tom when Tom demands to know why he’s in his room. And why he’s dressed like a girl.

“It’s a robe,” the man will reply. “Not a dress.”

“Looks like a dress to me.”

As Tom grows up, he’ll come across the man multiple times and will discover who he is and the rules that he is forced to follow and why he’s scared of getting caught by the Dark.

Like I said, the structure and plot of this story are very flexible at the moment. I was flirting with the idea that Harry is able to appear where Tom happens to be (when he’s at school or living abroad), but recently I’ve become more attracted to the idea of keeping him rooted at Riddle House and following the threads of Link’s story. I’ve had multiple Riddle House-based ideas that don’t have enough oomph to bloom into a story, but this one might be able to. I’ve always loved the idea of there being two versions of something. Two versions of Riddle House existing side by side and Harry is able to bridge the gap and Tom, like his mother, is able to see him while no one else can. Or perhaps, he’s able to remember him, when no one else can … I’m reading another book that’s all about not being able to remember a person so that’s on my brain at the moment.

It might also be a cooler and more horrid idea to make the festivities happen on New Year’s Eve. The idea of his father and grandparents blatantly ignoring his birthday in favor of a very stuffy and boring party of the high elites would fit very well with their attitude. And it would be fun for Tom to have a birthday mystery/visitor that he looks forward to every year.

#wip game #deimos #running from the dark #future fics #upcoming fic

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osric-giroux-ffxiv · 10 months ago

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A Change in Plans

A conversation she didn’t want to have – lately there weren’t many conversations she had been looking forward to having with much of anyone. Moods tended to sour rather quickly as of late when tensions were high. It was a small wonder that she had kept much of her composure at all or kept things together enough to run things effectively and without any pitfalls in her pregnancy.

Dawn kept warning her against stressful situations and yet trying to avoid them, she had constantly been faced with them.

Lowering her hand to the cuff of her sleeve, she adjusted the fabric around the mark around her wrist, bangles and all helping to conceal any of the redness, even her makeup had been long since washed away, her hair let loose and her overall look having been that of someone who had spent much of the night in and resting.

Finally, a solid knock came upon the door of Osric’s chambers – bright and early. She wasn’t about to miss the chance to beat the courier to the punch, or rather that she was going to catch Osric before he made post for the day with the missive she had asked him to write. The day before was but a blur, her catatonic state having made it difficult to discern much of what she had thought, felt and how much time had passed.

Only a beat or two passed before the door was opened. Osric stood on the other side, appearing a bit worn, tired, but determined nonetheless half-dressed as he was. Dark slacks, boots and a white undershirt, and just behind him at his desk - a desk that currently had a rather large bag and an envelope set in the middle of it - his coat hung on the backside of his chair. It was fairly evident he was preparing to leave for the day, and wherever he was intending to go, he did not expect it to be a pleasant venture.

Whoever he might have thought was behind the door this early in the morning, perhaps Wyland or one of the other staff, his wife had not been who he expected, if the look of concern was any indication.

“Vahalia…what can I do for you this morning?”

The door was opened a touch wider as he stepped back to allow her into the room if she wished to enter, looking back over his shoulder and quickly clicking his tongue at the two pups who had started to wander over, signaling them to return to their beds. With the two canines dealt with, he turned his full attention to the dark-haired woman once more.

Instantly Vahalia’s brow rose at the greeting from all parties and merely storing the interaction away she stepped within the room past the door, hands primly folded to her front, “Lucky that I happened to catch you before you left. I’ve taken to some council with my Advisor and explained the situation. It has been suggested to me that the missive itself and whatever is left of your envoy, we burn. The papers, all information – simply send the goods you found to the Knights and be done with it. If they ask what you found in there aside from the contents, you don’t know.”

He moved to close the door, making sure to give her her space in the process. A hand reached up and ran through his hair as he listened to her, gaze cutting to his desk and resisting the urge to push back on the assertion that it was his envoy - it was semantics, the man was dead and if he was to walk into the Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly with just his head he knew how it was going to look, no matter how adamant he was that the man had needed to die. Someone was going to have to be held accountable, and that someone was likely going to be him. The thought had already kept him up all night.

Osric’s gaze found hers once more - his mouth closed, but tongue moving across his top front teeth, the motion barely visible as he moved past her towards his desk.

The documents were easily handled, and without a word they were plucked up from his desk. He moved over to the fireplace across the room, tossing the missives he’d found into the flames within and watching for a moment as the flames started to consume them.

“So we burn the head…what’s been done with the rest of his body, Vahalia?” Satisfied the papers were going to be taken care of by the flames within the fireplace, Osric turned back towards her, hands clasped loosely behind his back. “I’ll also need to notify the men who are delivering the goods of what the story is - while I can inform the individual who assigned us the task, if they report a different story with the goods then there will be questions.”

The Lady Cress squared her shoulders, her chin almost lifting defiantly but she happened to steel herself and the uncomfortable discussion but the needed one; a necessary evil yet again to seeing tasks delegated properly,”While the idea was good in theory, it does not hurt for a third opinion which I’m grateful we have. The body is long gone and we have Creature to thank for that. Let us hope that your men are loyal to the cause and don’t stumble in their dedication or words. The story must stay consistent.”

His hands clasped into fists, jaw tightening for a brief moment as he considered the men in question. Colson and Geoffrey he had few concerns about. The two were loyal to their employer, and had been from the beginning…but Silvaire.

The man had been a Temple Knight, only leaving the order because of obligations outside of his ability to control. If the choice was between remaining loyal to House Cress and being truthful with the Temple Knights…Osric exhaled sharply, lifting a hand to his ear as he turned away for a moment.

“Colson…who is with you? Just Geoffrey? No - that’s fine. How far out are you?” He paused, gaze drifting back towards the flames for a long moment. “...Very well. Yes, the goods are to be returned to the Congregation upon your return. And you are to inform them that what you return is all that we found. Am I clear? Good. I’ll be in touch soon.”

He released his hands from behind his back as he turned back around, walking past her to retrieve his jacket from the back of his chair. “...It seems I’ve another individual I’ll need to speak to, besides just the gentleman who asked us to complete this job…”

The woman looked rather perplexed as she turned, watching Osric make his way past her, “Another individual to speak to?” light golden colored eyes blinked, “Who else would have known aside from your men that would give you pause?”

“No, it’s one of the men who went with me that gives me pause.” He slipped his coat on, leaving it open as he reached up to run his hand over his face. “Silvaire - a former Temple Knight. He was dedicated enough during the job, but if asked to deceive the knights.” He shook his head, jaw clenching tightly. “I need to be sure, and I need to be sure before the goods arrive.”

Vahalia simply sighed and her hand lifted to the bridge of her nose. By all indication there was likely to be some recourse after, how could they get lucky enough not to?

She watched Osric in silence, his movement certainly an indicator on his wish to depart. Making for the door she opened it and began to step into the hall, “This is why I prefer to deal with people who have no loyalties. Everything to gain and nothing to lose – folk like that have little to no ties to buckle them down. You should consider mercenaries in the near future and only those you can absolutely trust with your most deepest of secrets without regret.”

Osric’s gaze cut over to her as he adjusted his coat.

Trust. It was a simple, but heavy word, all in one. If he were to only consider those he trusted especially with his deepest of secrets, then he’d be able to count those he’d truly consider on one hand, without utilizing all of his fingers. It wouldn’t be much of a fighting force at that point. And it wasn’t a point worth arguing over, certainly not right now, when there was an issue that needed to be handled.

He knew where his loyalties were - to the house and the woman standing in the doorway - and what steps needed to be taken - sorting out the rest would come after dealing with the immediate threat.

“They have plenty of incentive to remain loyal to us, and a majority of the force is made up of mercenaries, but I’ll have a discussion with Silvaire and…assess where his mind is, and address the issue from there.” He finished buttoning up his coat, glancing over at the fireplace where only ashes remained of the missives and then turning back to Vahalia in the doorway. “…all we found were the goods that are to be delivered to the Congregation - ceruleum and all. I’ll burn the head this evening when I return. It wouldn’t do for me to carry it with me on this errand.”

“It might not even be necessary to bring it up. Bringing it up could only draw attention to your panic.” She clearly wasn't trying to argue anything at any point, merely offering additional considerations for an already bombastic situation that could blow up in their face at any given moment – especially if attention were to be shifted in a direction they didn't want people looking, “If people don't ask about it, then don't tell. If the commission was given to you there should be no reason for any of your men to speak on it. Pay them and be done, easy.”

There was a slow exhale as he considered her words. He had intended to face the issue head-on - but if the issue didn’t have to be addressed at all…

Vahalia’s brow furrowed, “I didn't imagine you'd skip all through Ishgard with it in your possession. I'll have Bruce see to it in your absence. I'm asking that you reconsider tracking this person down and bringing unnecessary attention to the issue at hand. It Isn't hard to smell blood in the water if someone is bleeding and I don't know about you but I would like to keep my neck. If this turns around on us, I will be forced to disassociate from you entirely and disown your connection to the House. You might want to think wisely.”

Osric paused a thought seemingly passing but not voiced, before pulling on the cuffs of his jacket for a moment before grabbing something off of a dresser and pinning it to the front to hold the cloak that he fastened over his shoulders - a silver wolf-head piece that he’d been gifted. “I would very much like to keep my neck. It’s difficult to be present for one’s children, for one’s house, for one’s wife, if they’re missing their head.”

The way his words intoned the word ‘wife’ as if it had been acid from his lips, caused Vahalia’s own to twitch in a singular movement, her thumb roving over the family ring on her finger.

He turned towards her, barely catching the motion of her lips, eyebrow quirking for a moment before he moved towards the door, his jaw set. What he could have said to have caused such a reaction he was unsure.

“I will meet Master Thierremont at the Congregation to inform him of the job's completion and the arrival of the goods. Will complete our obligations and should be the end of this whole…saga.” His gaze shifted back to the bag on his desk for a moment. The impassive soldier - he’d been that before, he could be that again.

A scorned breath left her, something akin to a sharp exhale and the woman twisted towards the door, clearly, she was holding him up and her presence was less than ideal, “Very well then, I won’t keep you from your business else you may tarry.” there was one more paused glance over the man and the canines he often kept his company with and she stepped out of the room without furthermore to add, allowing Osric to make his own decisions based on the information she provided to try and counsel him.

Osric watched her go, letting his shoulders drop for a moment after she exited the room. For a job that for all intents and purposes had been a success it certainly was beginning to feel like a failure. He shook his head, straightening up before casting one final glance at the bag on his desk with no small measure of disdain.

Right now his feelings didn’t matter - there was business to tend to, and a conversation he didn’t want to have.

Collaborative writing with @vahalia-cress-ffxiv

#stories #collab writing #blurbs #{of ravens and lances}

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papa-rhys · 1 year ago

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The Tune of Debauchery (Dutch x f!OC)

Also available on AO3 | Word count: 6,061

Lucy and Dutch have a score they're set on taking on a riverboat docking in Saint Denis. The catch? The riverboat is the setting of one the social elites infamous orgies and the two have to pair up as man and wife in order to con their way into the company of their target. Without getting distracted.

“I wish they’d hurry up. It’s bloody cold out here and this dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” Lucy complains under her breath. The line of patrons waiting to enter the riverboat seems to be getting longer and longer by the minute; all dressed in finery that no doubt covers up far more scandalous attire. Lucy’s glad of the long coat that Dutch lent her to cover the measly scrap of tulle and lace that she wears underneath. It’s alright for him; dressed in his satin waistcoat and pants and thick velvet jacket. He doesn’t have to worry about bare legs catching the chill of the cold night air. Dutch stifles a smile, picturing what she’d looked like in that night dress before they’d left camp. “No, it doesn’t.”

He can’t have known her for longer than a few months - they picked her up while they were camping at Horseshoe Overlook, if he recalls correctly - but he was admiring her long before then; years ago when he was reading about her in the papers. A fearsome gang leader in her own right, responsible for causing just as much trouble and chaos for the Law as he is. And now he has the privilege of watching her at work up close. And in lingerie, no less. Maybe his luck has finally come in.

He only realises he’s staring at her when she smacks him in the chest with the back of her hand, causing the young woman waiting in front of them to turn and look at them over her shoulder. She has gems adhered to the skin around her eyes. Dutch smiles. Tips his hat. Lucy should never have agreed to accompany Dutch to this party. But then, she supposes she was the only person in camp that truly made sense accompanying him. Abigail was the second-best choice, but she has John and Jack now, so it would hardly have been appropriate. But Lucy? Lucy has a wealth of experience with this kind of debauchery and has no strings tethering her to any lover. There are no consequences to her being here at all; save for the possibility of Lawmen. Still, she should have said no. Some jobs aren’t worth the hassle.

The line moves up and Lucy can finally see people filing onto the riverboat ahead, where they’ll all be spending the night partying until dawn. Well, most of them will. She and Dutch will be robbing the place, of course.

“So, run this plan by me one more time,” she says, desperate for something - anything - to take her mind off her frozen fingers. She clenches and unclenches them until Dutch wraps his hand around them to stop her, no doubt irritated by her werreting. His hands are a lot warmer than hers are, that’s for sure.

He leans in conspiratorially, trying to ignore the intoxicating scent of her perfume. “Simple enough job. We charm our way through the night, have a couple of drinks, get to know some of the guests. As far as anyone’s concerned, we’re a married couple looking to enjoy some of the peculiar vices this city has to offer. When our good friend Mr. Cunningham shows up, we’ll commandeer a room with him and rob him for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. Apparently, he brings about a week's worth of his earnings to these parties to spend on whiskey and cocaine and other men’s wives. So if we catch him before he has chance to spend it, we should be lookin’ at quite the pay-out.”

“And if Mr. Cunningham isn’t interested in our company?”

Dutch chuckles. “That, Ms Atherton, is why you’re wearing that dress.”

The line moves up again and soon enough, they’re being greeted, searched, and ushered onto the boat, caught up in the current of people filtering in from the Saint Denis docks. Dutch offers his arm, mostly for appearance's sake, but Lucy takes it just to keep herself from being swept away by the excited boarders.

Inside the boat, it’s a lot warmer and it takes a fraction of a second to figure out why.

Bodies upon bodies - some of which are already naked - are strewn throughout the room. Married couples proposition young women in silk robes; men watch in a lust-induced trance as their chosen mistresses for the night plant kisses on the throats of other men. There’s champagne and cocaine and cigar smoke, and a wealth of velvet couches and armchairs upholstered in red satin for gentlemen to lounge in whilst they get the best head of their lives from two girls that are half their age. There’s no shortage of cardinal sins a person could commit in a space like this.

Dutch is in his element. A big grin on his face and a glint in his eye that’s usually reserved for stacks of cash or an unguarded stagecoach. He looks around the room once more before reigning himself in - they’re here to rob the place, not participate. Unfortunately for him. It’s been a while since he had any close contact with a woman that wasn’t the surprisingly powerful slap across the face from Miss O’Shea that had signified the end of their relationship. And even that was a few weeks ago. He winces, the memory of the sting tingling against his cheek. Did she really have to do it in front of the others? How humiliating.

“Well,” he says. “It looks like a pair of reprobates like us are in good company here.”

Lucy snorts. “Lucky for us, they’ll be too drunk to notice us robbing them. Shame about the lack of clothing, though. I wouldn’t want to know which orifice I’d have to swipe their pocket watches from.” Dutch lets out a laugh. “I think that would be the least interesting thing you’d find in the orifices of these deviants,” he says, still eyeing the crowd in search of an opening to worm his way into a conversation. He’s immediately distracted by the sight of a bar surrounded by people. “I think we could use a drink, my dear,” he says, straightening, and pulls Lucy towards it by the hand. Once she’s been sat down on a barstool next to another young woman, Lucy finds her borrowed coat being removed by Dutch. She lets him slide the black wool from her body, revealing the blush pink tulle and lace slip that she wears underneath, and then watches him over her shoulder as he hands it to a member of staff. Dutch takes a seat beside her and has immediately slipped into conversation with the couple beside them as if he’s known them for years. This is the part he enjoys the most: pretending to be someone else. Hosea would say there’s something revealing about that - that it means something about how he views his own place in the world - but Dutch thinks that would be rich, coming from the master actor himself. Sometimes being someone else is just more fun than being yourself.

“We’re from the North,” he tells the couple, weaving his lies. “Married not so long ago.”

“My parents disapproved, so we migrated South,” Lucy supplies, slipping into her best parody of an American accent seamlessly, which seems to impress, offend, and amuse Dutch all at once. She’s sipping from a glass of champagne that the bartender has wordlessly placed in front of her - Dutch has been given whiskey.

The young woman, who they’ve discovered is named Elizabeth, gives Lucy and Dutch a swooning look. She must be a romantic; easily lured by tales of forbidden love and couples fighting against the odds. And easy mark for Dutch. Her husband, James, nods his agreement. “I hear ya. I’m older than Lizzy by eight years. Her mother damn near chased me into the next town over when we started up.” Dutch appears mildly offended by the assumption that his age would be the problem in his pretend relationship with Lucy. “So,” James continues. “What do you do for work, Mr…” “O’Connell,” Dutch replies. “And I’m a banker.” Lucy takes a swig from her glass to cover her smile and Dutch glances at her sidelong. “Withdrawals, mostly,” she adds once she's swallowed her drink. A slow and lazy smile crosses his features.

A few hours of chittering and chattering among crowds lead Dutch and Lucy to a red velvet couch with throw pillows that are so soft that Dutch almost disappears into them when he sits down. This place is the epitome of opulent decay and wealth - moral perversions included. Everything about the place disgusts him, but he has to admit that he can see the allure of a life like this to someone less inclined to intellectual depth than himself - so lost in the haze of sin and recklessness and unbridled consumption that he’d never have the time to worry about his problems. In another life, it could have suited him. Maybe one day it could suit him in this life, too, if he one day accomplished everything else on his list.

He’s pulled Lucy onto his lap in a show of feigned possession - though it seems to have worked to convince the group of men they’re talking to that they’re an adventurous couple instead of a pair of criminals that don’t even really know each other all that well. He absent-mindedly twirls his fingers around a long lock of her hair that falls between her shoulder blades as he smokes a cigar that he’d stolen from another passenger’s pocket a short while ago. Lucy could get used to this feeling; being the doted-on Queen that the King of Thieves shows off to the world. She shudders as his twirling fingertips graze her skin.

“Well, I think you caught quite the catch there, Mr O’Connell,” one of the men says, tipping his glass of whiskey to Lucy.

“Well, he’s quite a catch himself,” another man adds, eyeing Dutch up and down like a panther on the prowl.

The first man smiles into his glass, eyes still holding Lucy’s gaze. “So, what are you both looking for tonight?” he asks after swallowing his sip.

Lucy leans back, draping herself easily over Dutch, who glides his hand up the inside of her thigh for effect. His warmth sinks into her at every spot their bodies touch; she can feel the heat of his chest through the back of her dress. “My husband likes to watch,” she says. “And my darling wife likes to please,” Dutch adds.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then. Most of the people here are looking for the same thing. You’ll find someone in no time, I’m sure. Especially looking like that.”

Lucy smiles at the man, seemingly enraptured, eyes glimmering with what looks a whole lot like lust. Perhaps out of jealousy more than anything else, Dutch runs a lightning-quick finger down her spine to wake her from her trance and she jolts to her senses. Fixing her gaze onto Dutch’s hand - that still rests at her inner thigh - she pretends to idly fiddle with the gold rings on his fingers while the two strangers continue talking among themselves.

“Spoilsport,” she mutters to him. He smiles to himself. Dutch takes a puff of his stolen cigar and blows out the warm scent of tobacco, which clouds around Lucy’s head as he watches the men get distracted by a new conversation a short ways away. “I told you that dress of yours would do the job, my love,” Dutch says, trying to be overheard. Though there’s something in his voice when he says my love that suggests he’s saying it more so for the delight of teasing her than for the benefit of the men nearby. Lucy is quieter when she speaks. “No sign of Mr Cunningham yet, my love. You don’t suppose he didn’t show up?”

Dutch shifts underneath her and she has to grip his thigh to stop from toppling off his lap. He’s a little anxious. The thought has also crossed his mind, it seems. “He’s here somewhere. Snakes like that can’t resist the promise of beautiful women and fine liquor.” Lucy keeps her eyes on the room around her. “Oh, really? He sounds familiar.”

A soft chuckle comes from behind her and she lets herself relish in the knowledge that she can insult Dutch in ways that others couldn’t without repercussions. Maybe it’s only due to the fact that she’s sat on his lap - her weight pressed against what is possibly his biggest weakness - or maybe it’s just because she’s a pretty girl and he's a man of that inclination. Either way, she enjoys getting away with things.

She lays eyes on a group of three who are in the throes of a fine evening on the other side of the room. The woman throws her head back, grinding out her money’s worth on top of a man whose attention is divided between her and the young blonde that has three of the other woman’s fingers inside her. Lucy’s skin warms at the sight.

Dutch follows Lucy’s line of sight and lands on the scene. Another puff of his cigar as he rakes his eyes over the bodies of the two women before settling his gaze on the soft skin at the nape of Lucy’s neck instead. He gatherers her dark curls and sweeps them to one side, where they hang over her shoulder.

“Look at them... Animals,” he says. Though there’s no disdain in his voice. He sounds amused.

“I think it could be fun,” Lucy says with a shrug.

Now that piques his interest. He raises a brow at the back of her head, his cigar hovering over the ashtray that he has resting on the arm of the couch. He doesn’t answer and Lucy thinks he hasn’t heard her. When she turns to look at him over her shoulder, she has a shine to her eyes that looks like mischief and bad decisions. Conveniently, Dutch is in the business of bad decisions lately. And surely no one would fault him for making this one.

He gives the tiniest nod. Permission to participate. Lucy’s skin fizzes with goosebumps.

She hops off his knee and weaves through the crowd a little ways away from the sofa. Dutch watches her as she takes a flute of champagne from one passing tray, takes a single sip and then twirls through a tight gap between two people, settling the glass on another tray as she passes by. In those few moments, she’s found her mark. She tugs at the hand of a passing man, pulling him close to where Dutch sits. He’s tall and relatively handsome; blonde hair and a sharp suit. No wedding ring - though that means very little at a party like this. She has to stand on her tiptoes to speak to him over the noise of the party, but she makes sure Dutch can hear loud and clear. “My husband would very much like to watch you fuck me,” she tells him in a low silky tone, though her eyes are locked on Dutch; long sweeping lashes framing glossy golden brown eyes that spell trouble. Dutch can’t believe his luck.

Lucy turns back to the couch, the man in tow, and bends forward to lean over Dutch with her palms braced against his thighs. He raises the cigar to his lips and when he’s blown the smoke into the air above her head, Lucy takes it from him and takes a puff before discarding it in the ashtray.

The man behind her is pulling down her undergarments now, no questions asked, and it takes every ounce of willpower for Dutch to keep his eyes locked with hers. To ignore the urge to watch what this stranger is doing to her. This is somewhat of a game between her and him now. Whoever breaks eye contact - whoever gives in first to the growing tension between them - is the one who loses. And Dutch is a man who always wins.

The little gasp that escapes Lucy when the stranger eases himself into her is music to the ears. One lace strap of her slip dress slides away from her shoulder as she’s pushed forward by the motion. It’s almost enough to make Dutch blush. If he wasn’t a seasoned outlaw, maybe he would. Watching this woman who’d shown up on his doorstep all weak and desperate a few months ago, now biting her lip as she gets fucked from behind in front of him. It all feels a little dizzying. Good. Thrilling, of course. But dizzying. He knew of Lucy’s past in this line of work, but there's a big difference between knowing it and witnessing it and he gets the feeling now that there’s a side to Ms Atherton that he clearly hadn’t given nearly enough consideration to before. Of course, she’s a beautiful woman; it’s not like he hadn’t thought of her once or twice in these past few months. Or maybe a little more than once or twice, perhaps. But whatever he’d imagined had never been quite this erotic. Is he in love? Probably not. He never is. But right now, he feels closer to it than he has with any of the other women he’s had on his arm over these last few years. The old familiar sensation of infatuation sweeping him away. For now, with the whiskey and the soft cushions and the pretty girl, it’ll do. It always suffices until it doesn’t.

Lucy leans in closer, puts her lips right next to his ear. He smells of tobacco and whiskey and cologne that’s far too expensive for a man on the run. It sends her heart careening against her ribs. “Let's make this even more interesting,” she murmurs, gently rocking against the man’s hips. “10 dollars says that you finish before me.”

Dutch grins. God help him. And god help them all if Molly finds out about this. He reaches into his pocket to pull out a billfold and places a 10-dollar bill on the armrest of the couch. Then another. “I’ll raise it to 20 if you can take both of us in one night.” He jerks his chin towards the stranger.

Lucy raises an eyebrow and scoops up the cash. “Easy money,” she grins. Spurred into action by a jolt of competitiveness, Lucy straightens just enough to wiggle her torso out of the slip dress, exposing her naked chest. The tulle bunches around her hips like a gun belt and the man grasps at it for purchase as he fucks her. She’s putting on one hell of a show and Dutch would admire her performance skills if he weren’t sure that they were going to lose him 20 dollars by the end of the night.

Eyelids heavy with lust, he lifts her chin up with his finger and rakes his eyes over her. Soft skin flushed a rosy pink and glowing in the flickering lamplight. Supple curves, wrapped in that feather-light tulle. Her long dark hair, cascading over her shoulder; strands of it trickling over her collar bones. Dutch places two fingers in her mouth, all the way up to his signet ring, and watches with satisfaction as she takes them on her tongue and closes her lips around them. The fun he could have with a woman like this, he thinks.

Lucy moves a hand up along Dutch’s thigh and finds exactly what she was hoping to find. Running her palm along the length of his hardening bulge, she coaxes a small grunt of pleasure from him. He slowly slides his fingers from her mouth, smearing wetness across her lower lip, and Lucy can’t help herself: she closes the gap between them to around an inch, her lips so close to his that they have no choice but to exchange breath. She’s never wanted to kiss Dutch as much as she does right now. And she has wanted to. The day that rain storm hit the Heartlands in the middle of a job together and he held his coat over her head as they dashed for cover in the woods, both of them dripping wet and panting from the sprint. The night she’d seen him arguing with Molly and watched as he sat there and let her hit him with a barrage of insults, completely stoic and unphased. She’s not proud that she had thoughts about swooping in after Molly left and stealing Dutch from right underneath her. But whoever said there’s honour among thieves was full of shit. Now, she holds back, but not because she feels guilty. She hovers there with her lips brushing against his - her breaths coming quick and hard - because the tension of this very moment is simply delicious and she’d be a fool not to indulge in it. You only get one first kiss. One first experience with that overwhelming pull towards someone, the tentative stretch of time in which you both inhabit that same elongated and dizzying moment, and the inevitable earth-shattering collision that follows as you both give in and tumble head first into each other. It’s the best part of any relationship - that space before the first kiss. It never gets better than that.

Dutch trails the very tips of his fingers against the soft line of Lucy’s jaw. The intimacy of his touch contrasts with the unfeeling way in which the stranger holds her whilst he fucks her. He’ll finish soon, she knows. He’s not savouring her like Dutch is. He’ll burn through his energy until he’s spent, but it’s of no consequence to Lucy if he ends up wandering off somewhere else in the next few minutes. She doesn’t even find him particularly appealing - the only thing that makes him so attractive is the fact that Dutch is watching him fuck her. That he’s imagining what she must feel like, wrapped around his cock. Her warmth and how soft her inner thighs would be if they were hugged around his waist. It’s Dutch that makes this fun; Dutch that makes it alluring. Dutch that brings the charm and excitement and pleasure to this place. As always, he’s the star at the centre of the universe; everyone else just hunks of rock orbiting him, remaining dull and lifeless until his light illuminates them.

She may be a little champagne drunk. Or maybe a little in love. She hasn’t yet decided. She always makes it a rule to tackle that decision once she's sobered up in the morning. Saves any wires from getting crossed in the heat of drunkenness.

Unable to resist, she lets her lips graze Dutch’s and it’s him who takes it further after that. Whatever happens with poor Miss Molly O’Shea after tonight, Lucy can at least sleep a little easier knowing that it was him that escalated it, not her. She'd been content with him looking. It was him who wanted to touch. A flimsy excuse, but it’s enough to ease the guilt in the moment. He wraps his ringed fingers around her throat and pulls her closer. The kiss deepens and she grows tired of being fucked by someone else.

Lucy pulls herself away from the stranger and gently pushes him back. “Sorry, partner. Party’s over for you and me. This is a private event, now.”

Dutch pulls her fully onto his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and his fingers buried in the soft tulle, pulling her into him as closely as she could possibly get. She’s straddling him, too caught up in the thrilling starburst sensation in the core of her chest to notice the ashtray toppling off the armrest, scattering ashes and the remaining inches of Dutch’s stolen cigar across the carpet. The stranger seems to have no frustrations about having to find another partner and saunters off towards a couple of blondes stood at the other end of the couch, his cock still hard and out for the world to see. That leaves just Lucy and Dutch.

They move in tandem. Dutch swears softly as he struggles to unbutton his pants. Lucy reaches down, mid-kiss, to help him and he finds his hands are much better suited to exploring her jawline and the soft stretch of skin below her ear.

“Keep…” he mumbles between kisses, “an eye out… for Cunningham.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a thief if I couldn’t do two things a once,” Lucy says.

She works the bottom buttons of his satin waistcoat free and he makes a start on his shirt, eventually revealing a warm chest lightly dusted with dark hair. With her chest full of excitement and more than a little desperation, Lucy eases him into her with a quiet exhale of breath. He clutches at her thigh with one hand; the other holding onto her hip, holding her steady and stopping her from falling off. Lucy starts off slow at first, teasing him with the slow rocking of her hips; slow enough to make him squirm. In an attempt to take what he needs, he pushes his hips against her and is met with a wiggle of her finger and a shake of her head.

He grins, watches as she holds her bottom lip between her teeth. “How on God’s green Earth did it take me so long to notice you?” “Maybe you were too caught up in ideas of sandy shores and coconuts,” she replies with a smile. She runs her hands up his chest, all the way to his neck and then she drags her nails back down again, causing his stomach to tense. “Either that, or we were too busy killing and robbing.”

“And runnin’,” he adds. “Mostly runnin’.”

“Mmm.” Lucy bends to plant a kiss on his throat. “That too.” Slightly breathless from all the kissing, Dutch speaks a little unevenly. Lucy can forgive him that, considering she’s picked up her pace and now rocks her hips back and forth in long sweeps. “Evidently I was a fool to have passed you by in those first few weeks,” he says. Lucy buries her fingers in the curls at the nape of Dutch's neck, her nails sending a rush of tingling across his scalp. She sets her glossy eyes on his - though he doesn’t miss the fact that they keep dipping down to his mouth - and turns a little coy. “And I was a fool when I missed my chance to kiss you in that storm outside Valentine.” Dutch pulls his head back to get a good look at her and she slows her pace for a moment. Studying her in the low light of the oil lamps, he tilts his head, piecing together all the implications of that statement. Had she been sweet on him since all the way back then? Months and months worth of jobs and idle chit-chat and planning and drinking and laughing. And all that time, he’d had her attention. The thought flatters him to no end. “Oh really?”

“Mr. van der Linde, I would’ve let you fuck me right there in the mud.”

He laughs. “Well, Ms Atherton, maybe I will.” It’s him that leans in for a kiss this time; hooking an arm around her back and scooping her forward. The other hand roams the expanse of skin that stretches between her hip to the underside of her breast. A scar from an old bullet wound occupies some space there, the skin sensitive to his touch. He has a matching one over his hip bone which she is yet to find, though she's often spent long nights alone in her tent, wondering about all the scars that must litter his body and how many she might collect under her fingertips if she ever had the opportunity.

Behind the couch, a naked woman with soft tanned skin breezes by and rakes and hand across Dutch’s shoulders, a champagne glass in her other hand. It’s on offer. A request. A room for one more? Lucy pulls back and wiggles her eyebrows playfully at Dutch as the woman bends behind the couch and plants open-mouthed kisses on his neck. He simply leans back and takes the champagne glass from her hand instead. Downing it in one gulp, he hands the glass back to her and lowers Lucy down onto the couch, her skin looking like porcelain against the deep red velvet. Lucy watches as he hovers over her, leaving a crooked trail of kisses down between her breasts and over her stomach - past that old bullet scar, like a drunken rider weaving back and forth across a trail. And at some point between him laying her down and him burying his head between her thighs, the woman merrily wanders off, unphased.

Lucy’s head swims as his tongue swirls. Tension building and whirling in her gut; the desire to rut against the warmth of his mouth, to get to the finish line quicker. Those years of unsatisfying sex with unappealing old men and grubby cowboys have left her impatient. Now, now, now. Dutch takes the soft pink flesh between his lips, alternating between nipping and sliding his tongue inside her, and her hand reaches for the back of his head, holding onto him like he’s the only thing tethering her to the Earth. Wordlessly - because even ill-mannered outlaws know not to talk with their mouths full - Dutch reaches up and lays his forearm across her pelvis, applying gentle pressure until she whimpers softly. More fluttering butterflies join the ones already dancing in her gut. Her other hand finds Dutch's forearm. Grips him tightly; nails digging into hot skin. She pushes her hips up against him and Dutch looks up at her through his eyelashes, a smile narrowing his eyes when he uses his arm to keep her hips pinned down into the soft cushioned seat of the couch.

The sight of her squirming makes something swell inside his chest. He’d assume it was his heart, but according to many, he doesn’t have one. Still, something expands inside him, unfurling and pressing against his ribs; a deep sense of satisfaction as The Atherton Girl herself unravels underneath him, tangling her fingers in his hair. It wouldn't take much to undo her, right now. To finish her off, win the 20 dollars, and return home with the knowledge that even a fellow well-respected outlaw like Lucy Atherton could be defeated by Dutch van der Linde in one way or another. But he doesn’t want to yet. That tiny part of him - the part that craves the power - insists on drawing it out. And the selfish part of him simply says “me first.”

He works a line of kisses back up the trail he’d made before, over her pelvis and around her navel, all the way to her neck. That perfume again - it’s like a drug. This must be the feeling that floods through the Reverend’s head when he takes that needle to his arm. The sensation of all sense and rationality spilling out from his ears. Lucy revels in the feeling of Dutch’s lips against her collarbone. The slight scratchiness of his day-old stubble against her skin. The smooth heady smell of him, the grumbling moans that keep escaping his throat, and the weight and warmth of his body pressing down on her.

And by the will of the Gods and their terrible sense of timing, it’s at that moment she spots Mr Cunningham across the room. She thinks about ignoring him. Pretending she hasn’t seen him and letting this little distraction play out until its natural end - which she had hoped would be something… climactic. But there are a few things she’s learned in her years as a gang leader; don’t mistake fear for respect, don’t shit where you eat, and don’t get in between a leader and his money-making. Dutch would see his arse if she let Cunningham slip away, knowing how much they stood to earn for his Tahitian vacation fund. So she mutters Dutch’s name.

It doesn’t seem to reach him. Slips through one ear and out the other. He hums, a sound that borders on a question, but that’s all the response she can expect from him whilst his face is buried in the crook of her neck.

“Dutch,” she says again, chuckling. He comes up for air, partially dragged up by Lucy’s fingers wound into the collar of his shirt, and hovers over her. His eyes are foggy with lust and he’s a little grumpy over being disturbed. Still grinning, Lucy takes hold of his chin and turns his head to the side until his eyes land on Cunningham. “That’s him, right?” she says, voice low. “That’s our guy. Tall, heavy built, walks with a cane.”

Dutch sighs. He was having fun. “That’s the one,” he says, watching Cunningham with resentment over his shoulder, fingers still spread out at her waist.

“He’s younger than I thought he’d be,” Lucy says, craning her neck to deliver one last kiss to Dutch’s neck. The last of the passion petering out. Shaking it off is like waking up from a deep sleep and suddenly having to fight your way through a burning building, stumbling and half asleep. And Lucy would know, since she’s done exactly that. Dutch makes a small uncertain noise in the back of his throat. “He looks stronger than I thought he’d be.”

“You scared to take him on?” She teases.

“Ms Atherton, if you could be so kind as to give me some credit…” He pauses and wiggles his head from side to side. “Maybe a healthy dose of unease.” He pushes himself up off the couch and takes her by the hand, pulling her to her feet and helping her pull the straps of her dress back over her shoulders. “Okay then, darlin’ wife of mine. Let’s go and introduce ourselves to the social elite.” When they approach him, Lucy speaks to him in her fake American drawl, slipping into character as easily as a cottonmouth slips into the water. She forces a shimmer into her eyes and Dutch turns on his charm too. The buttons of his shirt - as well as those of his vest - are still undone all the way. Though he had the grace to button up his pants again before heading over for introductions. “Well, hey there,” Lucy says, voice as sweet as honey, with an airiness to it that makes her sound like a Yankee romantic. Exactly the kind of woman Dutch would marry.

Cunningham angles his body to face them as they come to a stop in front of him - a good sign. It means he’s interested. “Hello there,” he says. His voice is smoky and deep. Unexpectedly rough for a man dressed in such finery. Still, Dutch has seen stranger things. Dutch glances over his shoulder, back towards the velvet couch, where his jacket still lays discarded over the backrest and his stolen cigar cools on the carpet. Attempting to shake the thoughts from his head, he shifts his weight onto his heels and takes a quick second to survey Mr Cunningham, sizing him up and checking for the two important things: weapons and valuables.

The man’s suit is fine; not as fashionable as Dutch’s, in Dutch’s own opinion, but far more expensive. His shoes are polished, though they’re covered in flecks of water, which means it’s raining outside and that Mr Cunningham has only recently arrived since the droplets aren’t dry yet. He hasn't had time to spend his money, then. There’ll be more for them to steal. There are no weapons that Dutch can spy, but they’ll have to pat him down to be sure. Lucy can do that while she has him distracted. His pocket watch is foreign. Expensive. This might work out well.

After a few moments pass and Dutch has the basic measure of the man, he glances back up to meet Cunningham's eyes. He remains none the wiser; too focused on Lucy’s smile. She blinks a fraction slower than usual, letting her lashes sweep against her pinkened cheeks. “My husband and I are lookin’ for a good time,” she says, taking Dutch’s hand and hanging off his arm like the giddy newly wedded wife she’s supposed to be. “You know where we can find one?” Cunningham grins.

#red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde #rdr2 #dutch van der linde x female oc #rdr2 fanfic

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