#the deers could have been way more realistic but I want to keep the like nonsapient animals less detailed and more cartoonish | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing xv. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: oral (m receiving), jk and oc in their feelings :c, fluff n cuteness tbh

words: 7, 816

summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing

a/n:

im so sorry for the late update but it's finally here!!! it's been a hectic few weeks w my exam preparation coming right around the corner too :c

anyway!!!! we've got some smut after a while 👀so for visual purposes pls imagine jk from the butter mv, specifically his hair and eyebrow piercing ...

i hope you enjoy this chapter !!!

Safety was a very important aspect of your life. Everything that you did, you always weighed the realistic possibilities of you regretting your decision; mind running at one hundred miles per hour while you drew a mental mind map of every possible outcome you could possibly predict. It was exhausting to have your mind immediately come up with worst-case scenarios where the risk was realistically a meagre five per cent against the other ninety-five, but you were a chronic overthinker by nature.

You steered far from doing things that would end up causing more harm to you and your environment because you knew that there was no actual reason why you could justify getting completely wasted at a party. If it was for fun—surely, you’d vehemently oppose that the next morning.

Your friends, or even anyone who knew of you; always lamented you for your tendency to remain in your bubble. You knew that overall, you were an overthinker and that most of the time—nothing of what you conjured would actually happen purely because, well—your friends are still alive, and so were you. You just missed out on ‘fun’.

But old habits died hard. Maybe that was why the most reckless and impulsive thing that you did—was with Jungkook.

Out of all your friends, Jungkook was the one person that really did whatever he could get his hands, feet or body to do.

He was very determined by nature and a natural daredevil at that. You remember on multiple occasions where he and his family went on a family vacation, and he came back with stories of his adventures swinging from the top of a cliff upside down, getting a snake to wrap itself around his neck—and by far the most impulsive one, returning with a small tattoo of said snake on the back of his neck.

Jungkook was so unpredictable that neither of your friends could ever tell what he’d do next. And you supposed that added to his charm, but it didn’t take away from the five stages of absolute shock that you’d go through when you witness another one of his unpredictable tendencies.

Like right now.

“Please say something,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck while you can only gape at him.

“Purple.” You blurt.

He blinks before his eyes dart upwards as his finger twiddles a few strands of hair between them.

“Yeah,” he hums, “It looks a little blue in some lights, though.”

You nod your head slowly, still processing what is probably the lesser surprising one between the two things that have you double-taking at his figure when you first greeted him at your door.

“That’s … not all,” you say slowly.

Jungkook offers you a lopsided grin that stirs something in your belly, and you don’t know if it’s his hair, or the fact that he’s starting to wear shorter sleeves as the weather begins to get hotter; his tattoos on display as it trails upon his arm—or if it was because of the—

“Eyebrow piercing?” He raises a brow, particularly the one with the eyebrow piercing as it glints under the natural sunlight that filters in the hallway, “So. Do you like it?” He asks, smile still small as he leans in for you to get a better look.

Your breath hitches when his face gets closer, but not enough for it to be insinuative in any way. It was just you and your weak-willed nature whenever it came to Jungkook. You hoped that he wasn’t able to see the way that your ears undoubtedly redden under the proximity.

“What matters is if you like it, Jungkook,” you remind him softly, shyly looking down to your feet.

He sighs, resting an arm against your doorway in a way that makes him look as large as the width of your door. His gaze is still calm and steady, lips curled ever so slightly as he rests his eyes on you.

“I know. But I care if you like it or not,” he retorts.

You scoff, waving him off, but a small grin still threatens itself onto your face.

“Well you shouldn’t,” you huff.

“Why not?” He hums as he cards a hand through his hair. Even if it’s a bright colour and you’re sure that it required copious amounts of bleach and hours at the salon to get the final result—it still looks soft when he swifts through the locks.

“Because,” you lull, “My opinion doesn’t matter. If you like it and you think it’s pretty then that’s more than enough.”

He clicks his tongue against his cheek before his eyes dart down. You’re still avoiding his gaze because you weren’t ready to have your senses assaulted with the way he’s crowding you in the doorway of your own home.

“You’re trying really hard not to compliment me right now,” he teases.

“I am not!” You splutter, ears turning red. Your eyes dart to your feet. “… but if it matters then … I like it. It’s pretty.”

Jungkook’s grin is nothing short of wide when his head reaches out to smooth your hair out of your face that forces you to look up at him. You attempt to keep your heart beat at bay, even if the way he looks pleased with your futile trial of complimenting him. In reality, you thought it looked more than just pretty. Jungkook looked … hot. He was already attractive as he was, and his confident yet quiet nature made him exponentially hotter—but his long, purple hair and the new eyebrow piercing just made him even sexier.

“It matters.” He smiles, cocking his head to the side as you bashfully step aside to allow him to enter your apartment.

He settles in like he’s the missing piece to the lonely nights you spend on your dining table studying away for a test or an exam. And you suppose that Jungkook’s always fit right in, wherever you were. He was a comfortable presence in your life, even when the two of you were in high school and he’d come over for tutoring lessons. Or when it’d be just you and him in your mother’s car while you taught him how to drive.

Jungkook’s somehow always filled in the other seat in your life when there called for two. Even when you note that he still sits on one foot while the other hangs off the couch, a habit he’s had since he was young, or the way that he’s still stupidly polite not to sprawl himself across your couch like Jimin and Taehyung did whenever they were over. Jungkook’s always been there and you were always there to see.

“So … what’s up?” His voice interrupts the daydream that got you a little more soft than you’d like. You shake your head as you shut the door behind you, turning around to fully face Jungkook.

“The ceiling?” You reply lamely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips when you see him roll his eyes.

“Ha ha,” he mocks, “I meant if there was anything you wanted to talk about. You know—since you texted me to come over.” He finishes with a raise of his brow.

You still as your brain processes his words. You did text him first. You had just finished a lengthy meeting with the student union and didn’t feel like studying just yet—and you just so happened to have been thinking about Jungkook when you caught a glimpse of your phone (when were you not).

You didn’t have a reason, even if your conscience would argue that you did and it was because you missed him. Even if you were the one that needed time. Your heart and mind wanted two different things, but they both revolved around Jungkook. So, you compromised and settled for a simple text.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, shuffling towards your couch as you plop in the loveseat across from him.

He ogles the way that you chose a seat that wasn’t the one that he was sat on. He doesn’t point it out, though. Instead, a firm line settles on his lips before he leans back to your couch, eyes still trained on your figure.

“You don’t need to sound so shy,” he says, “I’ll always come if you’re the one that’s asking.”

Your eyes widen when your head darts up. When you look at him, you swear that you’d melt because he was looking at you with mirth dancing in his eyes. The somewhat dim lighting of your living room made him look so … cosy. He looked more comfortable, probably knowing that you weren’t going to nag at him for manspreading at the way you can only stare. You don’t know if it’s on purpose but you’re sure it is—but Jungkook’s eyebrow piercing is strategically exposed when he raises a brow, flicking his bangs aside. Your brain short-circuits.

“It’s not—I’m not—I’m not …” You stutter when he catches you looking like a deer caught in headlights. But all he does is let out a deep chuckle before reaching an arm out.

You stare at the arm that extends itself, eyes trailing up the limb as you gawk at his tattoos. He wasn’t one to flaunt, even though he didn’t pretend like he didn’t have any. So even your friends didn’t catch much of his tattoos unless he was at the gym or changing during practices with the way he practically lived in long sleeves. But now, it was just you and him, in your living room while he practically invites you over with his smile and doe eyes.

“Come ere’,” he mumbles as you continue to stare, “Next to me, please.”

You blink a few times when you realise that he’s beckoning you over with the arm that’s extended. You buffer for a second when he continues to smile at you with that easy grin of his, the one that’s both able to calm you and reduce you into a mess of nerves. But after a few beats, your limbs start moving at their own accord as you push yourself off the couch, slowly inching towards Jungkook and the empty spot next to him where you plop down into.

“Here?” You ask softly.

He laughs, and it’s a nice sound. Your mind had been muffled ever since he first showed up with that new hairstyle of his and that Godforsaken eyebrow piercing, and now when he looks at you like you were the only thing that he’s ever wanted—your heart can’t take it.

“Closer.” He encourages with a tilt of his head. Then, he delivers the final blow. “Just wanna hold you.”

You freeze, hands stilling on the plush of your couch as you were about to shift closer. The words are still processing in your mind even if you knew exactly what he said and what he meant. The heat on your face was definitely proof of that.

“Oh my God, don’t just say that!” You cry, burying your head into the back of the couch when you turn away from him.

Jungkook’s still laughing at you, hands clutching his stomach instead of trying to reach out for you as you whine into the fabric. He was killing you and your poor heart, and he was doing a damn good job at it. He didn’t need to do much because his presence was always enough to reduce you to absolutely nothing and a pile of mush.

It was this ambiguous back and forth that you’ve settled into with Jungkook after your last serious conversation that had your heart weaker and softer than ever. Every moment you spent with him, even in the crowd of your friends—you knew what you wanted. But there was still an irrational (and insecure) part of you that wanted to wait. To see if he actually meant his confession or was he driven by desperation to keep a friend close.

You should’ve had faith in Jungkook the way he blindly and willingly put in you. Even if you were the more unstable one between the two of you. But your mind worked endlessly to remind you of what the two of you shared, and who you had to share him with—and how she was everything that you weren’t.

“I’m sorry!” He laughs, and you feel a hand reach around your waist to tug you upwards as you squeak at his show of strength. “Was that too much?” He asks softly when you’re facing him, face definitely still flushed as you avoid his face and opt to stare at the chain around his neck.

Even that was making your insides feel funny.

“No …” You mumble, leaning forward until your forehead is pressed against his chest as his fingers drum against your waist. “I’m just shy.”

He chuckles.

“You don’t have to be shy.” He tells you, “It’s just me.”

You blink up and narrow your eyes at him.

“That’s not fair! You can’t just turn up to my house looking like—that—and expect me to be fine!” You huff, gesturing towards his entire frame as he simply listens with an amused raise of his brow.

He tilts his head to the side and even has the audacity to look confused when he smirks at you.

“Me? What did I do? It’s just hair dye and a piercing.”

You huff.

“It’s just hair dye and a piercing,” you repeat in a low voice, clearly meant to represent him as his face scrunches adorably at your impression of him.

“That’s not how I sound like.” He deadpans.

You stick your chin up snootily with a satisfied smile.

“You so do. You sound that dumb with what you just said.” You retort petulantly.

Jungkook stares at you for one long second before he’s pulling you flush against his chest with a wide grin on his face as he attempts to smother you with his arm. You squeal when you feel his fingers around your waist as he squeezes the flesh. He manoeuvres his way around your body until you’re perched on his lap, hands reaching out against his chest so that you could establish some distance (which you fail miserably at).

The room is filled with your gasps and Jungkook’s cackles, and with the way he’s crowding your body with his own—all you can smell is Jungkook. He smells fresh, as always. Especially since he chooses to opt-out of cologne and pays favourable attention to the type of laundry detergent, body wash and shampoo that he uses that gives him the boyish, clean and charming natural scent that he has. And it drives you insane.

So when you look up at him through your lashes in a break when Jungkook’s heaving at how he’s attempted to tickle you, and all you can see is how good he looks with his purple hair paired with the way he unconsciously licks at his lips to wet them; and the eyebrow piercing and tattoos. You melt—and so does your filter.

“Can I suck your dick?”

Granted, that isn’t a question you pose after he’s just tickled you in good faith while giggling away with his doe-eyes, or even the way his hands are placed at a respectful distance away from your bum. And it definitely isn’t a question that Jungkook’s expecting because his eyes shoot wide open, while his foot kicks up hard enough that it crashes against your coffee table.

“W-What?!” He cries, hands gripping your shoulder to push you away so that he can get a proper look at your face.

And it’s on fire.

But you can’t take back your words, especially when Jungkook’s looking like he demands some sort of explanation.

“I—I …” You stutter but your body is lax in his, and your thighs are still straddling Jungkook’s. You aren’t stupid or that naive, so you definitely know the firmness that presses against your inner thigh is a sign that he’s not opposed to your proposition.

Before you can say anything with how your mouth fails you, Jungkook snaps up until your foreheads nearly crash against each other as he presses his palms against your cheeks, staring you intently in the eye until you’re squirming under the scrutiny.

“I don’t hate it.” He assures you softly, but his eyebrows are furrowed. “But I need to hear it from you that you know what you’re saying.”

You blink at him and all Jungkook does is wait for you patiently. What were you saying? That you wanted to suck his dick? You did. You wanted to do a lot of things to and with Jungkook. Curse him for turning up looking the way he did and meddling with your restraint on needing time. But there was a brewing feeling of need in your chest that wants to please Jungkook, that wants to see him quiver under your tongue the way he has had you before. They weren’t all pleasant memories, purely because your poor heart has had to fight to disassociate your feelings from pleasure when you couldn’t do it.

But you’ve never made Jungkook feel good, at least in the way he was able to do for you.

“I-I—” you mumble, eyes darting everywhere but Jungkook’s gaze doesn’t waver at all. You take a deep breath, nibbling on your lips as your eyes dart up to the ceiling before they return to his face. He’s still waiting. “I want to. I really do.” You assure him, your own hands reaching out to clutch at his collar.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his pants, and you feel it. You give an experimental swivel of your hips because you know it must feel good for Jungkook. And it does with the way his breath hitches, but his hands leave your face to grab at your hips to stop your motions. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but all Jungkook does is sigh.

“You don’t have to …” he whispers, “I—you said you needed time and I don’t want to ruin this. What we have.”

You purse your lips.

“I know I said I needed time but I want to, Jungkook,” you tell him seriously, “What happened before was a product of our miscommunication but it’s different now,” your eyes are firm when they stare into his, your face leaning forward for emphasis, “Unless you don’t want me to—”

“Baby, no,” he reaches out to pull you closer to his chest, “I do. God—I can’t think of anything else but … I don’t want to fuck this up.” His eyes flutter shut as he rests his forehead against your breast bone. It’s not sexual at all, and you can hear the genuine frustration that laces Jungkook’s voice.

“You won’t,” you say softly, reaching a hand through his hair, “I want to learn. I want to learn how to make you feel good too.” You whisper.

Jungkook releases a low groan that makes your stomach clench in desire. You realise that throughout the escapades that the two of you have engaged in, you were the vocal one purely in the sense that you were whining, moaning and sobbing in pleasure at Jungkook’s doing. But Jungkook was vocal in the way he spoke to you. Even if it was mean and you found yourself crying after it happened because he pretended that you didn’t exist—there was something about the way he guides you through your highs in that raspy voice of his that made you cum harder each time.

“You’re serious?” He asks, finally looking up to confirm with you.

You nod your head.

“Dead.”

He nibbles on his lips, as his eyebrows scrunch in focus. He was heavily contemplating your offer and even if you never propositioned any male to suck his dick before, you’ve never heard of a case where they’d be hesitant to receive one. But you and Jungkook were different. You knew what you felt for him, and he knew what he felt for you—and somehow that made your odd request all the more important for the both of you.

“We’ll be okay, right?” He asks hesitantly, afraid. Your eyes soften as you nod.

“I want this, Jungkook.” You tell him again, and you’d repeat it as much as you can for him to know.

He sighs deeply.

“If at any point you feel … overwhelmed … just say the word and we’ll stop, okay?” He says, holding you by the shoulder while he hardens his eyes at you in seriousness. You nod your head as you scramble off his lap in a motion fast enough that Jungkook can’t process it.

Before the both of you know it, you’re on your knees, settled in between his legs as you peer up at him. Your heart was thundering in your chest because you had no idea what the fuck you were doing, but you wanted to do this. All because of that damn hair and piercing of his.

“Your knees,” he murmurs, attempting to tug you up but you’re stubborn when you stay rooted in position, eyebrows furrowed in determination as your jaw ticks.

“Isn’t this how it goes?”

“They’re going to hurt,” he points out.

You roll your eyes before narrowing them at him.

“Do you usually complain this much before you get your dick sucked or what?” You snap, patience wearing awfully thin.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your blunt statement, especially when you reach out to rest your palms on his thighs.

“I don’t mean …” he mumbles, hands gripping the couch because he’s too afraid to touch you, “It’s not like that and you know it.”

You sigh, leaning your cheek against his kneecap and he feels his heart go into overdrive. It was different, with you. This wasn’t just another girl that wanted to suck his dick for his approval or whatever—this was the girl of his dreams, readily waiting to learn how he liked it. Though he’d argue that he’d like anything you do to him because his love-glasses blinded him that way. But there was still fear ebbing away at his heart, terrified at screwing it up even if you were the proposer in this case.

“Jungkook, I’m not going to disappear on you after this,” you say softly, still peering up at him, “I want this.”

Your heart tightens when he hesitantly reaches out to rest a hand between strands of your hair as he tilts your head upwards. Something about just sitting between his legs as they sprawl out wider to accommodate your body seems do domestic and intimate. Even the context of the situation makes you tingle from your fingertips all the way to your toes—you were here to learn, from Jungkook; on what he liked and didn’t.

You didn’t plan this. Admittedly you and Yena have talked on more than one occasion about how you really wanted to sleep with Jungkook—you didn’t have a timeline for it. It felt weird to put a date to it so you shoved the thoughts aside even if they popped up every once in a while. This just so happened to be one of those moments where your mind ventures into a more explicit territory whenever you were with Jungkook.

“I know you need time but …” his eyes flutter shut before he leans his head back into the seat—eyes staring up at the ceiling as if he was searching for answers that he didn’t have with himself. You wait because you suppose that’s the least you could do when you made him wait for you while you attempted to deal with your own feelings. When he looks down, his eyes are gentle yet resolute, “You know I love you, right?”

He sounds nervous even if he’s said it before. But the words don’t fail to make you flush or evoke the tremble in your ribcage—a signal from your body that tells you that it’s only Jeon Jungkook that could ever make you feel this way.

“God,” you huff, but the corners of your lip twitch and that’s enough to tell Jungkook that you did. You knew. “Can you teach me? Please?”

You’re pressing forward again, eagerly shifting on your knees as Jungkook takes one long look at you as if he was memorising this image to eternity. When he decides he’s satisfied, he rests into the seat before gently coaxing your hands away from his thighs and towards his—

“Start here,” he guides with a low voice, large palm encasing your smaller ones as you feel the metal of his zipper come into contact with your skin.

You blush, but you were an overachiever for a reason. The potential embarrassment of fumbling is tucked away in your mind, your only concern and fascination lie with the fact that Jungkook’s already hard that you feel him brush against your wrist.

“Don’t you need to get hard?” You ask softly.

Jungkook blinks before he’s giving you that devastating smile of his, the one where only one corner of his lips turn up into an amused grin while you tilt your head at him in an inquisitive manner.

“I’m really hard right now,” he assures you; and to prove his point, his hand guides yours over the outline of his cock. You gasp because it’s the first time you’ve felt anything but your own intimates in your grasp.

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together, appreciating the way that Jungkook’s beginning to bite on his lips while he focuses his attention purely on you. You knew just from feeling alone that Jungkook was not your averagely-sized male.

“O-Oh,” you breathe when your hands begin to work at their own accord—slowly unbuttoning his jeans, working your way down the zipper. The entire time, you’re occasionally looking up for any signs of approval from Jungkook, the resolved student in you needing appraisal from your teacher. And he picks up on your prompts, smiling at you gently even as his breath begins to turn uneven at the way you’re still gently pulling his pants down.

“You’re doing great,” his hand cards through your hair until his thumb reaches your cheek, rubbing a gentle motion to be paired with his words.

You smile to yourself, feeling more confident to tug his jeans down his thighs. You knew that Jungkook was well-built, it was a fact given that he was an athlete who frequented the gym more than any place on campus. He had impeccable stamina, even before he took football seriously—but the way that his thighs clench under your clammy hands only prove your point. But all you can really focus on is the outline of his cock from his boxers.

“Can I …?” You ask hesitantly, reaching out to tug at the hem of his boxers.

Before you can do anything, his hand stops your wrist as you immediately pause in your ministrations. Your eyes widen, fully ready to pull away in case you did something wrong. What if he didn’t like it? What if he changed his mind or that you were bad—?

“Stop thinking,” he chides, “I want this. I love your hands, anything that you do,” he whispers in reassurance as you swallow. “How about you feel me first? Over the boxers. Baby steps.”

You exhale, nodding your head as your hand reaches to cup his length in your hand. You gasp in tandem with Jungkook, feeling the heat radiate from his dick as you give an experimental squeeze. You look up to gauge his reaction, and you suppose it’s good with the way his breath hitches. He doesn’t say anything and you take that as your cue to continue, your hand squeezing tighter upwards, right before your thumb rubs over what you think is the tip.

“It’s wet,” you blurt.

You’re about to hastily apologise because who the hell points that out before giving someone a blowjob?

“Yeah,” he releases a shaky breath, “I’m so hard right now you have no idea.” He laughs, throwing his head back.

You don’t say anything else, but you continue to work your way up and down his length over the cloth—and for some reason, you feel like it never ends. The heat from his cock, the stirring in your belly or the wetness that begins to accumulate between your own thighs. His hand rests in your hair in a gentle way, simply remaining there as he allows you to have your way on his cock.

That realisation makes you feel the need to go further, so you do. You squeeze until you reach the base of his cock, and you feel the outline of his balls. You briefly read online that some guys liked it when you squeezed—so you did. And Jungkook nearly lurches forward and knees you in the face when you do.

“Fuck, baby,” he chokes in a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, but your heart isn’t there when you grin in satisfaction to yourself. The term of endearment doesn’t fall onto deaf ears either, and it shoots straight to your core.

Deciding that you weren’t happy with just fondling him above his boxers, in one swift motion; said fabric now drapes over his thighs and you’re welcomed with the sight of Jungkook’s engorged cock staring you straight in the face.

You assume it’s bad taste to just stare at someone’s intimates as if you were dissecting the anatomy right as you were about to get down to business. But you couldn’t help it. Jungkook had such a … pretty looking cock. You don’t know if penises could look aesthetic nor were you going to be superficial and say that penises should look a certain way. But he had such a pretty cock and it only made you want to shove it all the way down your throat. But your inexperience tells you to relax because you weren’t about to embarrass yourself like that.

“Do you … hate it?” Jungkook asks tentatively.

He wasn’t particularly an insecure person. He knew he was good looking and had a great body—he worked hard for it! But that’s because he never cared about anyone and what they had to say enough for it to affect his self-confidence. But you were the one person that he’s sought for validation ever since he was just a teenage boy, before the muscles and the confidence he’s developed over the years.

Especially when he was so hard that he thinks he’s going to bust a nut the second your mouth touches his cock—the way that you’re staring only makes him anxious.

“You’re really big,” you tell him, eyes peering up, “And pretty.”

Jungkook blushes. He can’t believe it but the fact that he’s the one that’s flustered when you were the ‘inexperienced’ one only goes to show how whipped he was. He almost laughs, but your hand is touching his bare cock and he nearly chokes at the firm grip you immediately take. He really almost laughs, because even now—you were a quick learner, an observant student who already probably knew what he liked.

Your hands twist upwards when you jerk him off, and Jungkook tries his best to keep his hips at bay even if he’s letting out low groans the tighter you squeeze. Your eyes occasionally dart up to observe his reactions, and you’re pleased to see that his mouth is slightly agape whenever his breathless pants leave them. You didn’t know that pleasuring someone else could feel this fulfilling for yourself—but you liked it. You liked the way he felt in your hand, the precum that oozes out from his tip that taints your fingers—and you especially liked the way his head is thrown back while the grip in your hair tightens simultaneously.

“You could spit on it,” his shaky voice interrupts your mental dialogue as you look up at him. He cocks his chin towards his cock as you were hyper-focused on his length. You note that you barely could wrap your fists around him and that you needed the help of both hands.

“Would you like that?” You ask.

He nods.

“It chafes when it’s dry,” he points out.

You open your mouth in acknowledgement as you nod your head slowly. You remember when he had spit on your pussy, and even if it was in the heat of the moment and you were already wet enough—you liked it. But you also note that the way you’re jerking him off his dry so you rev the spit up in the back of your throat before you lean forward, allowing the glob of spit to drop down his cock.

The breathless groan that he lets out immediately shoots to your core as you peer up at him. He’s already looking at you do, and you feel compelled to shoot him a small smile. And when you do, he groans even if your hands have momentarily stilled as you raise a brow at his reaction.

“How are you still so cute,” he huffs.

You blink.

“Are you really calling me cute right before I’m about to suck your dick?” You deadpan.

He sighs, but his hand rubs a gentle circle on your head.

“It’s a good thing,” he promises, “Can’t you feel how hard I am right now? You could breathe near my dick and I’d probably nut.”

You snort, even if the compliment is super boyish and very Jungkook—you feel your heart swell. You’re both terrified and how you’re reacting to his simple words, but the cheesy grin he sends you from above only makes your stomach feel lighter and your heart soar higher.

“So how do you like it?” You ask.

It’s a little too odd to be having this conversation as your hand continues to work lazily on Jungkook’s cock. He seems to not mind, especially when his hips occasionally buck upwards to chase the feeling. He blinks in an attempt to focus on your query and not how good your hand feels around him, even if it’s in a rest.

“How about you just start with the tip?” He suggests.

You nod your head before you lean forward, and you don’t know if Jungkook feels it—but your heartbeat is beating rapidly against your chest. You’re not … scared, but you’re also a little scared. Mostly because it’s a foreign territory and you’re unsure how it’d taste (even if Yena warned you from having high hopes). But Jungkook ate relatively healthy and drank a lot of water; and worked out regularly.

You finally kiss the tip, and Jungkook just about melts, cock twitching at the contact as you stick your tongue out to take a tentative lick of the precum that oozes out from his hip. It’s not pleasant, nor is it anything to puke over. You’re partial to it, mostly because you’re super turned on and you like the way that Jungkook seems to be eagerly waiting while his other fist that isn’t in your hair grabs at the couch in anticipation.

You don’t intend to be that erotic, but you don’t break eye contact even when you envelop the tip into your mouth. It’s the widest part of Jungkook, and it’s already a pleasant stretch to your lips when you run your tongue on the underside of his cockhead.

“Y-You sure you n-need me to—ah—teach you?” He asks breathlessly when you use your free hand to jerk the base of his cock.

You hum around his length, and Jungkook groans in tandem, hips jerking upwards in response as you feel his cock briefly drag against the roof of your mouth. He’s about to apologise, especially when he leans forward, but you briefly release him to shake your head.

“I’m a big girl,” you tell him with a grin.

Jungkook chuckles before resting back. He can’t quite believe that you’re on your knees right in front of him, sucking his dick like an obedient student. It’s eerily similar to many of his high school wet dreams, and it probably exceeds them with the way you’re sucking him back into your mouth; slowly inching your way further until you’re halfway down.

Your mouth is hot, and in fact—a dream. It’s probably the fact that it’s you that Jungkook feels all his senses be elevated in a way he’s never felt before. It was the way that his heart soars in his chest while his stomach caves in when he feels your tongue swipe under his shaft.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he croons, hand carding tenderly through your hair, “Be careful of your teeth.” He adds on when he feels the scrape of them against his cock.

He didn’t hate it, but he rather enjoys the softness of your mouth without the fear of you chewing his dick off.

You look up at him apologetically, but he only returns it with a half-hearted smile—purely because your hand is working its way on what you can’t fit into your mouth just yet. You’re an impeccable learner, and Jungkook thinks that he didn’t need to guide you at all with the way you’re doing everything just right. Or maybe it’s his love-sick mind that makes everything feel infinitely better. Maybe other guys wouldn’t like it—but his heart only drops when the thought arrives. He wanted to be the only person that could feel your mouth this way.

Your tongue is working hard when it continues to slobber against his cock. And he doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but you’re messy when you vacuum your cheeks—spit pooling at the sides of your mouth when you bob your head up and down. All Jungkook can feel is your mouth, and beads of sweat are already accumulating at his hairline while his breathing turns uneven with the only things escaping his lips are moans and groans.

You’re enjoying the way that Jungkook looks like he’s slowly losing control of himself and his tongue. All he’s doing is moaning, even the grip in your hair tightens when he unconsciously pushes your head further down on his cock. You realised that sucking dick wasn’t that theoretical as you thought it was. You were simply observant, gauged what made Jungkook’s breath hitch, what he didn’t react much to—and you knew for a fact that he appreciated the slobber.

And the spit. And the squelches of your lips meeting his cock. You did, too. It’s almost embarrassing to admit, but you were drenched just by observing Jungkook’s reactions. That only spurs you on further when you work harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls as you hear Jungkook release a breathy whimper. The sound immediately shoots to your core as you let out a moan of your own.

“Fuck,” he gasps, “You’re fucking evil.”

He’s breathlessly laughing, but you don’t let it hinder your actions. If anything, his words drive you further when you push his cock further into the cavern of your mouth, the gasp leaving his lips a sign that he probably didn’t expect that. You feel his stomach clench when you continue to bob your head up and down, and you’re giving yourself a mental pat on the back at the way you’re able to labour your own breathing through your nose. You were a natural if you did say so yourself.

“M’ gonna cum,” he mumbles through a moan, hand tightening around your hair as you take that as a sign to squeeze his balls harder. His hips jerk, hitting the back of your throat that has you briefly gagging around his cock. The visual and the sound sends Jungkook into overdrive, his balls feeling heavier by the second and in desperate need of release. He wants to apologise, but you don’t seem to mind with the way you continue to hollow your cheeks and function around his length.

“Where can I—fuck—where can I cum?” He rushes his words out, shallowly thrusting into your mouth as you hum around his cock.

He pulls out by pushing you back with a firm palm on your shoulder as your eyes widen, and when he’s shooting ropes of cum onto your face as it drips down your neck. You weren’t sure if he was supposed to cum that much, but it keeps on coming as you sit there obediently with your mouth open, in case it lands anywhere else. Jungkook’s groaning above you as he jerks himself off through the last bits of his orgasm, his hazy eyes darkening further when he spots the white that paints your face.

“I thought guys liked it if we swallowed?” You tilt your head to the side and Jungkook thinks he’s about to die.

“You’re actually going to kill me if you do that. So no. Not today.” He snorts, relaxing back into the couch as his post-nut clarity starts to hit him. He stares at the ceiling, feeling immensely satiated.

“This is like a facial at the spa,” you mention off-handedly as you climb up between his thighs, cum still staining your face. And Jungkook can’t believe it, but he thinks you look so cute painted with his cum. It’s a primal instinct the way that his eyes linger longer, feeling territorial with the way that he’s the only one that gets to see you like this.

“You’re so weird,” he snickers but you pout at him. And you do the next thing that gives Jungkook a heart attack.

Your tongue swipes over your lips where some cum remains, and even if his cock is flaccid—he feels it twitch in interest.

“Not bad. A little salty but overall … meh,” you shrug your shoulders as Jungkook gawks at you.

“You …” he trails off, “God.”

You smile up at him, all innocent as if you didn’t just give him the suck of his life—as your first time sucking dick.

“So? How was it?” You ask eagerly, leaning into his chest. He wants to ask about the cum that’s drying on your face, but you don’t seem to mind. You were so weird, but that only makes his heart grow fonder.

“Do you conduct feedback sessions after every blowjob?” He asks sarcastically.

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to? I mean—I could offer my services elsewhere—”

Jungkook pinches your hip in retaliation, the insinuation making him growl as you snicker. He can only stare at you in amusement, especially when you’re still grinning up at him. Gone was the shy girl that proposed this, even if he noticed the flush on your cheeks and on the tip of your ears. It was insane how you took a one-eighty, but Jungkook appreciated it. He appreciated you.

“Ten out of ten. Magnificent. Absolutely life-changing. Thought I saw the gates of heaven for a second.” He teases.

You roll your eyes but a small smile appears on your face as you glance down to fiddle with your fingers. Jungkook can only stare at you, and he can’t fully describe this feeling but his heart feels so … full. So completed, even if you sucked his dick. He’s always felt this way, but there was something about you being wrapped in his arms after you had his dick in your mouth that made Jungkook go crazy. Crazy enough for him to blurt out the next thing on his mind.

“I want to be with you.” He blurts.

Your eyes dart up in shock as they widen. But Jungkook is as resolute as ever, a dopey grin still on his face.

“W-What?” You stutter.

He reaches for your hand, still slightly sticky with the slick from his cock but he doesn’t care. Not when you intertwine your fingers with his so seamlessly, so easily like you were meant to do so.

“I want to be with you. In whatever way you want to have me.” He murmurs, peering straight into your eyes.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you try to find the words to respond with. But you can’t. Your mind is still recovering from what you just did, and your heart is soaring. But there’s a part of you that’s hesitant. You knew it was unfair, for making Jungkook wait—but you were still scared. You were scared that he’d get bored of you, or what the two of you share one day. He may be ready to leave it all behind, but you don’t think you could deal with having to say goodbye to Jungkook in that way.

And it’s as if he can read your hesitation, he brings your intertwined hands to his lips before pressing a kiss to your knuckles, eyes still soft when they remain on your frozen state,

“I’ll wait,” he says softly, “For as long as you need me to. Until you’re ready.”

“J-Jungkook …” you mumble, flustered when you look away.

He nudges his nose against your cheek, pressing a smile to your jaw as you hum in embarrassment.

“I fucked up.” He says. You’re about to interrupt but he seems to have his own things to say. “I said things that hurt you. I did things that hurt you and I can’t ever forgive myself for that. I know you’re not punishing me and I never once thought that way. Even if that isn’t the case, the least I can do is wait. Not only because of what I did but because no matter what—I want to do this right this time.”

He looks up to you and his gaze is so earnest that it makes the words get trapped in your throat while you stare at him.

He smiles, soft and gentle when he rubs a thumb across your cheek.

“I’m serious about this. About you. Even if you decide that you don’t want this or that your feelings have changed … I’ll still be here.”

Jungkook takes your breath away as you gape at him. The silence he leaves you with only makes you reaffirm your stance on how you feel for him. Yet, you can’t give him an answer now. Not when your mind still remains hesitant, and Jungkook didn’t deserve hesitant. Even if he’s hurt you—he didn’t deserve your confusion. Neither of you did.

You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. It’s intimate this way, the way that his cum dries on your face and that his dick is still out. It’s almost funny, but Jungkook wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d wait—for as long as he had to. And he’d do it over and over again, for you.

#bad boy good thing #bbgt #bts #bts fics #bts series #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook series

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footballxposts · 3 years ago

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The Rest Of Our Lives - Mason Mount Series 🦋 (Chapter Three) Departure

Warnings: none but next chapter is smutty ;)

Recommended Listening: Forever by Labrinth (Slowed).

Taglist: @storyofavengers

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After releasing me from the hug I was immersed in, I quickly went to the bathroom whilst Mason waited patiently for me outside in the hallway. Once I had finished and came back out to meet him, the little smirk on his face made my heart so full. Maybe he really did miss me like he had said, but if so why didn’t he get in contact sooner? I guess he was afraid of the rejection but I really did wish he had still tried. At the end of the day, we only regret the chances we didn’t take. Of course I was still hurt by him, but I did want to give him his chance to explain everything, even if it meant we wouldn’t rekindle the friendship like it once was, and we would still go our separate ways again.

“You alright?,” he asked in a soft tone.

“Yeah..” I gave him a small smile before he nodded and took my hand leading me back upstairs to the nightclub’s centre-point. It was only at the top of the stairs that we were caught in our tracks by a stunning blonde-haired girl who had recognised my old best friend.

“Mase gorgeous, how are you? I haven’t heard from you or seen you in a while. I thought you might have fell of the face of the earth or something.” she piped up. His reaction was like a deer caught in headlights. Who the hell was this? I knew it wasn’t his girlfriend but she seemed to be someone who was at one stage more than just a friend like I was.

“Uh, hi Olivia, yeah..” he began to speak back to her. “I um, I’ve just been busy sorry, I’m good how are you?” he continued unconfidently, itching to get away from this current conversation.

“Too busy, huh?.” She raised her eyebrows and chuckled. I was standing there so awkwardly, not knowing what to do or where to look. She didn’t pay attention to me once, her eyes fixated on the brown-haired man beside me. “And here’s me thinking Mason Mount would never be too busy to reply or spend some time with me..” she gasped jokingly, but I knew she was being serious and I really didn’t like the vibe I was getting off her. My heart began shattering again out of jealousy. It’s amazing how you can go without seeing someone for years and even though they broke you, in an instant all the feelings and memories come rushing back. And that’s exactly what happened when I saw Mason on the street earlier this night. Even though it was /my/hand he was still holding, I still felt threatened.

“Awh no.. I mean.. I don’t know. I’m sorry as I said I’ve just been really busy,” was all he could come up with as a response, his palm becoming sweaty interlaced with my own. You know when you can feel your heart beating in another part of your body? I could feel his through his hand in my grasp.

“Hmm okay.” She said with barely any emotion behind it. “So who’s this little one then? Your new girl?” Her attention was now focused on me, now frozen with a tightness in my chest. I should have spoken up. I wanted to. But I was unable to. Thankfully, Mason covered for me.

“Uh, no she’s just a.. a friend..” he trailed off, so unsure of his answer and looking across at me, his eyes soliciting for an answer. Realistically, we were former friends. But within time, we both hoped we could drop the former. Slowly nodding as reassurance, I turned back to look at the the tall woman standing in front of me.

“Just friends?” her eyes widened with a smug look, pointing towards our intertwined fingers. I went to let go of Mason’s hand but his grip tightened, letting me know it was okay and he had the situation under control.

“Yeah this is my childhood best friend Sophie. I uh- I ran into her down outside the bathrooms and she wasn’t feeling the best so I said I’d bring her back upstairs and take her home. I just wanted to keep her close in case she fainted or anything.” he announced. Her eyes were now practically staring into my soul, but buying it, she just replied with an ‘oh’ and I signalled in agreement once again.

“Well, that was nice of you.” She smiled pompously. “Anyhoo, you have my number. Don’t be stranger.”

“Right.” Mason gulped and she winked walking away. Once gone, he turned to look at me again, apologising with his eyes. I bit my lip and shook my head to let him know that it was alright and that we didn’t have to talk about it. To be honest, I did want to talk about it. I wanted to know who she was. Was he sleeping with her? And if so was it going to progress any further? So many questions filled my mind but I tried to forget about them, telling myself that it was none of my business and it was before we had reconnected to night anyways.

Making our way over to Hollie, the look of disappointment across of her face said more than words ever could. She was relieved to see that I hadn’t gone missing, but she wasn’t too impressed that on my return I had brought back Mason with me. Giving me a moment to talk to her, Mason stepped away, resting his arm on the bar counter and facing the dance floor.

“What’s going on, are you okay? I went looking for you but I seen you talking to him from the top of the stairs and I didn’t want to interrupt.” She whispered sympathetically.

“Yeah I’m fine, thank you Hol. And I’m sorry I left you for so long.” I replied.

“No no, don’t be sorry. I was more than alright up here, I was talking to that bartender for ages anyways. I’m sorry Soph, I didn’t realise he would be here too. Is everything okay between you both?”

I wanted to say yes. But was everything okay between us both? I mean for now it was. I was giving him his opportunity to talk to me, but I hadn’t heard his side of the story yet nor had I forgiven him. Trying to find the right words to respond with, I took a deep breath.

“It’s not your fault Hollie, I was the one who said I wanted to come here in the first place. And I guess for now yeah. I’m giving him a chance to clear up everything and get some clarity on the whole thing. It doesn’t mean we’re going to go back to being how we were before but at least if we can be on civil terms.. I don’t know that’s got to be worth something right?” I asked, in hope of encouragement.

Hollie was the best friend a girl could ask for. She was more like a big sister despite me being older; a little dumb and clumsy at times, but no matter how many bad and possibly avoidable situations she put herself in, she would always make sure I didn’t do the same. She only wanted the best for me, as did I for her, so she basically made herself the crash test dummy and tried to advise me as much as possible. And she always made me laugh and smile without fail, after every heart break, every failure, basically anything terrible circumstance you can think of. She was always there.

“Well that’s your choice and I think it’s fair enough.” She gave me a fragile smile. “Just be smart and don’t let him hurt you again Soph. I seen how much pain and anguish you were in tonight and I never want to see you like that again. It’s alright that you want some light shed and some closure on the situation, but don’t let him blindside you and destroy your heart again, okay?” she raised her brows, placing both hands either side of my shoulders to make sure I was listening. Nodding to let her know I understood, she gave me a full warm smile back.

“Okay, so I think I’m going back to Dylan’s house once he’s finished his shift”. She added, referring to the bartender who was now waving at us. “But I don’t know what your plans are so I don’t have to if you don’t want me to and you need me.”

“No no, you go. I’ll find out what Mase and I are doing and once I’m back home and safe I’ll give you a text and let you know. If I need you at any stage I’ll call you.” I said before giving her a hug and getting ready to leave.

“Okay, I’ll do the same!” She mumbled, and with that I rejoined Mason who had finished informing his teammates and friends what was happening. Putting an arm around my waist, we had left the nightclub once again with crisp and fresh night air.

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Quick A/N: AHH I’m so excited for the next chapter you guys are gonna love it I hope! Also, the reason I put listening recommendations is to help you all imagine what I’m visualising when I right my stories and ideas! Music basically helps me set the scene. When you’re listening to the song attached to this post, I want y’all to try visualise yourself walking in slow-mo through a crowded nightclub holding hands with THE Mason Mount. Everyone looking at you both leaving, but he’s looking back every so often just to make sure you’re okay. Just imagine. That’s all :)

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gothighunicorntolerance · 3 years ago

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At last, my Big Bang fic!

When Roman and his friends go hiking, they expect to see some birds, some lizards, maybe a deer if they were lucky- not a hidden cave with a sleeping person inside, unable to be woken up by anyone. His friends decide to let the sleeping person stay put, but there’s some feeling Roman just can’t shake off. Red chapter one below, and the full fic on AO3, accompanied by amazing art by @littlebigmouse

taglist: @theimprobabledreamersworld @edupunkn00b @ts-storytime

AO3 link

art post

The tranquility of the forest was quickly interrupted by the banter of several people standing by a parked car, their faces illuminated by the pink-tinted full moon low on the horizon.

“Come at me, Mothman! I have a very juicy ass you would LOVE!”

“Remus, you IDIOT. Mothman lives in West Virginia!”

“Well what about the skunk ape, Virgil? Don't you want to see the Skunk Ape? SKUNK APE! SKUNK APE!” He chanted, his voice echoing in the parking lot.

“Remus, would you shut up?!” Roman shoved his brother. “We are actually going to try and find wildlife like deer and stuff, and that’s not going to happen if you keep shouting for cryptids to fuck you.”

The rest of the group sighed collectively at the antics of the twins, though Roman didn’t pay much attention to his friends’ groaning.

“Anyways,” Roman said louder than necessary. “Logan, you have the compass, right?”

“Of course. I also brought several yards of paracord, just in case. And also cereal bars, batteries, and water.”

“Thank you for being the responsible one,” Roman laughed. “Virgil, it’s your job to make sure that the entire state of Florida doesn’t find out that my brother is a monster fucker.”

Virgil groaned. “You know that’s going to be impossible.”

“Just punch him when you think he’s about to say something stupid.”

“Oh, like this?” Virgil smacked Remus in the arm.

“Ow!” Remus groaned.

“Well, I thought you were about to say something stupid.”

“Can we please just get on with our hiking-adventure-whatever you’re calling it?” Janus spoke up.

“Please.” Logan agreed.

“O-KAY! Into the woods!” Roman sang.

The five hikers walked down the small dirt path, the mud from last night’s storm splashing their ankles. The colors of the sunset were barely visible through the branches of the trees, which cast long shadows onto the ground and Roman still quietly humming all parts of the song by himself.

As Roman’s song ended, trailing off into the instrumental bits, Remus had finally shut up about various cryptids, and the only sounds were the squelching of mud sticking to their shoes and the occasional snap of a stick or crunch of a fallen leaf underfoot.

The May nights were cool and humid, so most days like this, Roman wore cheaper jeans and a hoodie that he was willing to throw away if it got too dirty or torn.

About half an hour into their adventure-hike, Logan silently passed around flashlights to everyone, which Roman gladly accepted. It had gotten dark quickly, to the point where Roman had been barely able to see his feet.

Suddenly, Virgil, who was in front, stopped.

“Deer,” he whispered, aiming his flashlight into the trees.

Roman followed the flashlight beam onto a huge buck, its pelt speckled with mud and antlers extending far beyond its ears.

“The inside spread is over twelve inches,” Logan whispered.

“That’s big, right?” Janus asked.

“Yes, it is. The largest recorded spread in the state of Florida was nineteen and a half inches.”

Roman knew that Remus was about to open his mouth and say something stupid, and apparently, so did Virgil, because Remus groaned again after he was hit in the shoulder, the rest of the group snickering.

The deer eventually ran away, and the group continued on until the dirt path ended.

“Hey, look at this!” Virgil waved the group over to where he was standing, shining his flashlight into a large opening in the side of a rockface.

Roman jogged over and looked into the cave- as far as the flashlight illuminated, he could see moss and other plants clinging to wet stone.

“I haven’t seen this before- I think I’d remember,” Janus commented.

“It must have been uncovered by erosion from the storm last night,” Logan added in.

“Let’s go in!” Roman and Remus said at the same time, grinning at each other. They might not agree on much, but when it came to deciding whether or not to explore a creepy-looking cave, the answer was always going to be yes.

“Don’t you think we should- never mind,” Virgil sighed as the twins started swinging their flashlights across the wet ground of the cave.

“Look at this!” Remus whisper-shouted to Roman, pointing out some kind of slime growing on a rock.

“That is disgusting, put it down or I’m not letting you in the car,” Roman said as Remus began to poke the slime.

Remus stuck his tongue out at his brother but reluctantly stopped poking the unfamiliar growth. Roman turned around to see that the rest of the group had followed them in.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Virgil asked worriedly. “I mean, this cave wasn’t here before, and we might be the first living things to step in here in maybe hundreds of years.”

“And this is how people find monster boyf- OW!” Virgil once again took it upon himself to hit Remus in the arm to stop him from talking about various cryptids in a non-child-friendly manner.

“Caves such as this one are particularly interesting because you never know what you might find- oh, look!” Logan pointed to another small opening at the back of the cave.

“I’m going to crawl through!” Roman declared after the group had spent a minute or so deciding what to do.

Roman got on his hands and knees and started to wedge himself through the opening, quite aware that he would likely have to put his clothes through more than one wash cycle to get the stains out. He bit down on the flashlight, illuminating what was in front of him, but only barely.

When there was finally room for Roman to stand, he turned and called through the opening, “I’m fine! You can come through, it’s safe!”

The second part of the cave was much wider than the first part, and Roman was able to stand without hunching over.

Swinging his flashlight across the ground, Roman suddenly gasped.

There was a man laying on the ground, hands folded across his chest, dressed in- were those robes?

“Guys…? You might want to see this…” Roman called out again, his voice shaking.

“Ro? Are you okay- HOLY SHIT!” Janus crawled through, his eyes wide with disbelief and perhaps a little fear.

Remus and Virgil came through next, Remus uncharacteristically silent, his mouth open in an ‘o.’

Logan was the last to crawl through, and he, like everyone else, stood silent, looking at the figure laying in the center of the cave, arms crossed over their chest and wings spread out- Roman rubbed his eyes. This couldn’t be real- he couldn’t have found some guy in a cave that hadn’t been touched in years!

Maybe they had gotten drunk or something and put on a very realistic-looking cosplay and then ran through the woods? Remus had done odder things, so it couldn’t be completely ruled out.

Janus slowly walked up to the figure, stepping over the silken blue robes and putting his hand on their neck, careful not to knock off the wire framed glasses.

“There’s a pulse, but it’s really faint.” Janus announced to the group. “They’re definitely not dead.” The hikers stepped closer to the sleeping person, forming a circle around them but careful to not touch the giant gray bird wings sprouting from their back. Roman noticed a strand of curly brown hair had fallen into their eyes, and resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the strand of hair behind their ear.

After a moment of silence, Roman spoke up. “Should we… try to wake them up? I mean, what else should we do?”

Roman was careful not to touch the sleeping person. Roman wouldn’t admit it, but he was afraid there would be some kind of horror movie scene- where as soon as he got close enough, they would sit up and try to murder him. Or something like that.

Logan crouched and tapped his phone, and the default alarm sound echoed through the cave. The person didn’t stir.

Virgil stepped up next, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle and pouring the contents onto their face. “Seriously? Nothing?” Virgil muttered.

“Let me try,” Janus said, grabbing the person’s shoulder and shaking them.

“Alright,” Remus said, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeve. He looked up at Roman, grinning, before bringing his arm down to the person’s face and slapping them on the cheek. Roman cringed at the echo it created, but there was still no reaction from them.

“How the fuck did that not work?” Remus stared at the still-sleeping person.

“Heavy sleeper?” Roman suggested.

“Coma?”

“Dead?”

“Are we about to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

“Underlying medical condition?”

“Alright, it’s your turn, Prince Charming. Go do a true love’s kiss on the guy. You never know,” Remus laughed.

“No way! I’m not touching that guy with my finger, let alone my mouth!” Roman protested as Remus tried to drag him over.

Another beat of silence passed before Virgil spoke up. “I think we should leave. This dude’s probably not okay, and I don’t want to have to call the police or paramedics. I don’t want to get involved in anything, whether this guy is just stoned or in a coma or whatever.”

“Yeah.” Roman said after a minute of consideration. “You’re right. I don’t want to get involved. We should just- I dunno, leave the guy here? Maybe check later to see if they’re okay? I mean, they’re not dead.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and soon crawled back out the way they came. Roman exited last, and couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at the sleeping figure. A small part of him wanted to stay behind, try and wake them up.

But Roman ignored that feeling and left the cave with the rest of his group.

Once the group srood back on the path, all a little shaken or confused from what they had just seen, Roman said, “let’s all just go back home. If we want to, we’ll come back next week or whenever to make sure the guy’s either okay or gone, but for now just leave it alone.”

Roman said the last part for himself, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing something. He shook his head and followed Logan and Janus, who had already started walking back to the parking lot through the wet grass and still-sticky mud. Even in the dim light, Roman could tell the two of them were holding hands. Roman opened his mouth to tease the two of them but thought better of it. They had all just seen something pretty weird in that cave (Roman was still trying to decide what he really saw), and Logan and Janus hadn’t announced that they were together, probably for the exact reason that Roman would tease them.

Oh well, there would be plenty of moments for teasing later. For now, Roman just focused on dragging his feet along the muddy path back to the car, though he kept glancing over his shoulder. He told himself that it was to keep an eye on Remus and Virgil and make sure they were still behind him, but the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something still lingered.

#Sanders sides #Thomas sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #royality #ts storytime #Big Bang event #Sanders sides fic

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alegzandryan · 4 years ago

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Prepping for a Ritual

So since I am doing these things as we speak I thought I would go through some ritual things that I find useful, for anyone that feels overwhelmed or unprepared for ritual work. I know tumblr and tiktok have pushed a lot of easy jar spells on us, but there really is something more to a ritual setting, even a simple one. And as it goes without saying, this is my personal idea of a guide and everyone is entitled to their own opinion and practice.

Get your supplies ready the day before the ritual. ESPECIALLY if you are going outside/somewhere outside your home. Collect all the things you will need and put them together. This will give you a day to remember all the things you forgot before it's time, instead of in the middle of your ritual

Choose what you are going to wear the day before, too. Some people take aesthetic very seriously but others dont. Either way, give some thought to what you are wearing. Is that crystal necklace good for what you are doing? Are those pants comfortable enough to sit for 30 minutes in? Comfortability is just as important as presentation for ritual, so dont wear that corset that hurts you after 15 minutes. You will need to focus on more important things.

Foot wear is also super underrated. Are you hiking 10 minutes into the forest to find a ritual spot? Wear boots. Are you in your house and want to go barefoot? Make absolutely sure you are not going to step on a ritual tool and make yourself bleed, or curse to some gods about the existence of legos in the middle of your ritual

Make some stuff for a cleansing/power bath. I usually assemble ingredients and things day before, then go to bed, and do a quick ritual bath before the actual ritual. Steep a hair rinse or charm a fancy body wash before hand so you dont have to focus on that spell, too.

Do a tarot reading/your preferred divination, before bed the day before you do a ritual. It can be quick or extensive, it doesnt matter. But it can be good to get some guidance before you are gearing up for a spell or ritual, and have some time to think about it before you are minutes away from it.

Prepare food and water, once again especially if you are going outside. Rituals can take a lot out of you depending on what you are doing, and food and drink are very easy and quick ways to help ground yourself if you are shaky or need help coming back to a relaxed state. If you are struggling, boiling pasta or microwaving stuff is the last thing on your mind, or maybe even your ability. So have some fruit snacks or granola bars or cookies or something-- easy to take and easy to eat-- with you. Trust me, this is more important than a lot of people realize. It's a good after-ritual practice and one you should be ready for

Think about your intent and purpose. Set aside some time day-before to do this, maybe 30 min to 1 hr I would say. Maybe make an entry in your BOS if you are the journaling type. This serves 2 functions: one is to charge your intent before the spell. It will give you more oomph and precision in your spell casting, or more prepared behavior if you are speaking to gods. Think about what you want to ask them, what you want them to know, how much respect you should give them, or what they may ask of you. What are you willing to do for them, and what are you not?

The second function is that it gives you time to back out of something. Not all spells are meant to be cast, and especially not if you are in a high emotion before it. Give yourself a day to prepare, an hour to think over, why am I doing this? SHOULD I be doing this even? There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. Doing things impulsively in magic isn't typically beneficial to the caster most of the time. Think through potential consequences, too. How could it back fire? How could it go right but in the wrong way? Is there a better way to get what you want? Can you add a caveat, or a time limit on the spell? Are you using parts of a closed practice and not really thought about it before now?

If you are doing spell work in the out-of-your-house-space-land, even if it is just like, in your appartment parking lot, the park down the street or even your own backyard, make sure someone somewhere knows about it. I know not everyone is out of the broom closet, but even if you just have to tell your friends you are stargazing or something, make sure SOMEONE knows and has a check in time for you. There are creeps and terrible people everywhere, and not to spook anybody, but doing magic can often attract animals or any assortment of beings who want to watch/investigate you. I have been given a heart attack by a baby antelope at dawn before. I have also been given a heart attack by a forest spirit asking wtf I was doing there. I know it doesnt exactly feel witchy to have your cellphone crammed in your waistband, but trust me, better safe than sorry. Be it humans or otherwise, doing magic in the dark in total secret is just not realistic to your safety. Take someone with you and have them wait in the car or around the corner if you can. Once again, make sure someone, somewhere, has a set time to call or come get you in, incase you get kidnapped or fae-napped. Your wellbeing is a much higher priority than any magic spell.

Also familiarize yourself with nearby wildlife. Even if you are in the city, check out what raccoon eyes look like in flashlight, or maybe if your suburb is prone to stray cats or dogs. Check out a rabies registry as well, so you know what kind of risk you are looking at around such animals. Rabid animals are actually more prone to being unafraid of human contact and will readily let a person touch them. Do NOT interact with wild animals. No, they are not a sign or a gift from your god. Most animals are curious about magic in general, but that doesnt make them not wild. Do not interact. If you are in a less populated space, you should also check out what kind of wild life is native to your area and how dangerous they are. Deer will startle themselves into you like getting hit by a BMW and bears and cougars can be active day or night, as well as Bobcats, snakes, or coyotes. Check out your local wildlife center for advice on how to handle what lives in your area

(Last outdoors advice, I promise) also check out what kind of myths and legends existed on the land you are on, ESPECIALLY if you live in north america. Knowing who's land you are on should be important to your practice anyway, and knowing what kind of creatures may be out there may save you some distress later. Indigenous cultures should be respected, and their tales can tell you what's around your area. And I dont care where the hell you live, if you hear whistling in the darkness/forests, it is one of several things coming to get you and none of them are good. Get gone and DONT whistle back. Or at all. No whistling guys. Bad.

For indoor rituals, make sure you wont be disturbed. Much like meditation, rituals are very dependent on focus and intent. Interruptions can mess with your outcome.

More indoor advice, checkout your lighting and ventilation well before you do your ritual. For instance, my altar is in a walk in closet-- there is no way in hell I am burning 4 candles and an incense in that room. I would have to do it in my living room or bedroom where there are windows, or find a way to eliminate the candles. Is the room dark enough to fit your ritual? Is it light enough that you can read your notes? (also make notes/write up a copy of the spell, it helps so much) Make sure you have enough light to see what you are doing properly.

I am a big advocate of "do not over cleanse your life, stop over cleansing" however, if that is something you do a lot of, make sure all your tools and whatnot are cleansed and prepared day before. You can shave a 2hr ritual down to 30 min if you get all of your prep work done day before, which is nice. And it once again gives you time to say "shit I forgot that one thing I need to cleanse" an hour later and still not interrupt your ritual because it is day before.

If you are an of-legal-age type person and doing some drug/alcohol part of your magic, make double sure you have food, water, and a buddy system. You may not need a designated driver if you aren't going out of your house, but you still need a designated sober person to make sure you dont like, astral travel out of your body and get replaced with a pod person, or get hurt trying to cast a circle with a ritual knife while high. Know your limits well before you use them in ritual and, I cannot emphasize this enough, have a friend to keep you under scrutiny incase something goes wrong and you need help.

If you are having the OTHER kind of must-be-of-age type of ritual, be sure your partner is well informed. Maybe have a dress rehearsal so you are both on the same page about mechanics and consent. Speed run through the general timing and motions, and talk about what each of you expect to get out of the ritual. Is it for bonding? Or are you using the energy to try to charge something? Is it for fertility? Are you both good to have ritualized sex (I know that seems like an obvious question, but you would be surprised by how many partners clam up about sexual things to try to not disappoint their partner). If you are a witch and your partner is not, be sure they know what to expect, and that they 100% want to do it even though it's not necessarily their practice and not just to be a people pleaser. If you havent done anything like this before either, tell them that, too. Honestly is 100% required here

And lastly, keep your cool. It's easy to get over excited or over anxious about this kind of thing, but honestly with a little prep time you have a high change of doing awesome. And even if you dont? That's okay too. Everyone makes mistakes, we all learn from those mistakes, and every single experience you acquire will level you up until you are the best at being you. Do what feels right, trust your gut, do some reading, and keep calm and witchy on.

#witchblr #ritual #ritual work #spell #spell work #witch tips #ritual prep #witch advice #chaos witch #eclectic paganism #wicca #diety work #diety ritual #witchcraft #chaos witchcraft #solitary witch #solitary witchcraft

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downfordiluc · 3 years ago

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Albedo x G/N reader.

No warnings needed. Just pure fluff.

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Synopsis // you always felt as if Albedo's work was his priority, and yet, in a room full of experiments and results, all he sees is you.

Author's notes // My obsession with Albedo grows every day, send help. He's too beautiful for this world.

All works are entirely my own - downfordiluc (wattpad & tumblr)

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Albedo had never been one who attached a tangible value to relationships with other people. Obviously, he valued professional relationships and cared about his family, but romance and friendship were never bonds he really sought after or felt a need to maintain. Any friendships he did consider himself to have were purely circumstantial and didn't venture past the boundaries of his workplace, and he was content with that; content with being alone. That was until he met you.

"Alone and lonely are not synonymous", was something he caught himself saying to Kaeya one time, who had pointed out that he was often the only person in his laboratory for hours, if not days on end. Truth be told though, Albedo quite enjoyed being by himself and even relished the time he spent being the only heartbeat in the room - unless his experiments ventured into living organisms. He tended to drown out anyone talking to him while he was concentrating regardless, preferring to communicate with people like Sucrose and Timaeus through paperwork and statistics, rather than sentences. And yet, right now, there were two heartbeats in the room, as well as a slight whining sound, as he got nudged in the shins.

"You said you'd be done with this an hour agooo!", the dig in his leg was so soft that he didn't even glance upwards from the test tube he was concentrated on swirling in front of him - bright aqua slowly fading to a crystal clear liquid, sparkling as it spiralled.

Without warning, a warm hand was placed upon yours, his thumb running along the top of your wrist, leaving a trail of warmth as it traveled. For a man who wasn't very fond of socializing, he knew how to say a thousand words with just one movement, and you knew he was sorry for taking so long. His work was what you always considered his priority in life, and keeping realistic about this and knowing you could probably never take that place was what kept you sane on nights like this. Nights where he promised to watch the sunset with you, but the stars were now twinkling in the night sky through the small window of his lab.

The way he watched the colours whirl and merge into one was an alluring sight, his eyes transfixed on the liquid, scanning it inquisitively, and you noticed the colour of the substance was almost a direct match to that of his beautiful, twinkling irises. It was the way he looked at you. The curiosity and fascination flickering behind his eyes, burning in his brain, made your knees weak, as he would scan you up and down. Feelings of doubt and anxiety would always follow in tow, but he stopped them in their tracks.

"You look beautiful today."

Fingers intertwining with yours pulled you delicately out of your daydream, as your eyes flicked up to his own, giving you that exact, disarming look, as you noticed his work pushed aside. Alchemy is purely scientific and has no real link to matters of the heart, and yet you could swear he had cracked the code of love too. His gaze felt calculated and precise, melting you in an instant like one of his experiments. You were an experiment to him in a way - an experiment in romance - and you really hoped he was satisfied with the results.

You knew you were.

Heat spread itself across your face, a pale pink hue dusting across the bridge of your nose and cheeks, as you registered his spontaneous compliment. It wasn't often you saw Albedo smile, so you cherished the fleeting moments when his lips curled up and his eyes glittered that little bit more. Just like that, any lingering frustration you had with him for taking so long faded out of existence, leaving only your infatuation with the one you could proudly call your own. He truly was captivating, and the best part was, he had absolutely no idea. He had no idea that he was beautiful too.

"I made you something, [Y/N].". You pouted slightly as his hand left your own, missing the warmth, as you watched him rummage through the draw on the left of his desk. In his hands, he produced a crystalline bottle. The was glass a pale hue of yellow, reminiscent of his vision glowing faintly under the star on his neck, a mystery you were yet to solve. The way it refracted light scattered little flickers of light all over Albedo's face, like luminescent freckles, and yet they were gone as quickly as they appeared, as he placed the bottle into your turned out hand. The liquid in the bottle glistened similarly to his experiment from earlier, as everything clicked into place.

Holding the bottle up to your nose, you smelled the fragrance of what was inside. Until that moment, you didn't know it was possible for something to smell like warmth, and yet that was exactly what this bottle seemed to encapsulate. Maple, cinnamon, and the smell of autumn captured you lightly, lulling you into an almost drunken sense of happiness. It smelled like cuddles in front of an open fire, but also early morning walks, watching the dew glisten on browning leaves that were slowly cascading from the trees.

September 22nd was the first day of autumn last year, and the day you met Albedo. Light brush strokes adorning the canvas in front of him as he merged hues of orange into hues of pink, perfectly capturing the sunset decorating the sky in front of him. Most people would rush to finish before the sun laid to rest for the night, and yet he took his time, a level of preciseness in each flick of his wrist that you couldn't help but watch, following every movement he made.

"Can I paint you?", the blonde man was now returning your stare, his face void of emotion but his eyes full of eagerness, as he pushed past any defences you had, leaving you with no other response than to say yes.

"How would you like me to stand?" you queried, panicked thoughts darting around your head as you thought you would do nothing but ruin his beautiful artwork. Had he simply pitied you?

"Just like that, you look perfect as is."

At the time, Albedo had no romantic intentions behind this sentence, and yet it had you mesmerised. On this crisp, Autumn evening, you became besotted with the man in front of you, and from this moment on, you would be his muse.

Soft footsteps circled the desk, the sound barely filling the room, as Albedo stood behind you, trapping you in your chair, as you could faintly feel him pressed against your back.

"Albedo?" you questioned, as you felt his breath on your neck, an involuntary shudder following in suit. His presence was short-lived, however, as he trailed his fingers down your arm, goosebumps forming on the tracks he left, as his fingertips landed on the bottle he had given you. He was ethereal.

"Do you like it?"

His enchanting voice hummed against your skin, as you could feel his hair tickling the side of your neck, his lips hovering just inches away from your ear. It took every inch of your willpower to not turn your head and kiss him, and yet you stood your ground, relishing the feeling of being this close with him, knowing these moments were often transient.

"I love it." You spoke softly, controlling your voice that threatened to waver due to his affectionate manner. You had been watching him for hours, as he barely paid notice to you. You had analysed his every feature time and time again today alone, watching every shining hair that had slipped out of his braid and fallen into his face, wanting nothing more than to brush it behind his ear. Luckily this was one of your favourite ways to spend your time, watching him work, and admiring his devotion. He was dedicated, loyal and committed, and these qualities went farther than just his work, which left you feeling secure and loved every night that you slept alone, the other side of the bed growing cold without his presence.

Without warning, a light mist fell upon your exposed neck and collarbone, yet again eliciting goosebumps, as the scent of the perfume he had created made its way up to you, softening you instantly as a sigh of pure euphoria escaped your previously smiling lips. This smile only widened, as he placed a delicate kiss behind your left ear, stroking your hair lightly as he did, reminding you of how much you longed to do so as the hours passed. The spot his lips had rested felt as though it glowed almost as brightly as the vision on his chest did, as it radiated heat long after he had departed.

"I love you." softly escaped your lips, as you turned to face him, looking up at the man who made you feel as though you were floating on delirium and bliss. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side, and yet again, he gave you that stare. The one that made you feel like the results of an experiment, every small feature being perused. You wouldn't be surprised if he had facial expressions down to a science, knowing exactly what every movement of all 42 muscles in a person's face meant. If that was the case, he could see just how in love with him you were at that moment.

"You didn't think I'd forget the anniversary of the day we met, did you?"

Like a deer in headlights, your eyes widened and your lips parted ever so slightly in shock, as Albedo gave you a soft yet sultry look, a smirk creeping upon his lips. How could he read you like a book, and yet you couldn't decipher a single thing he was thinking?

"You didn't forget, did you, [Y/N]?"

Most people would have looked offended, or more light-hearted individuals might have feigned said offence, and yet Albedo's face didn't move an inch, as he kept his gaze transfixed upon you.

"N-No, of course I didn't. I just didn't want you to feel bad if you had.", you stuttered when you were nervous, and this man had left you nothing but a ball of anxiety, as you had almost forgotten to give him his own gift. From your pocket, you produced a small pin of Prithiva Topaz, the shape identical to the star on his neck that you adored so much; a testament to how much of an enigma this man was to you. Slowly rising from your chair, you placed one hand on his chest, grasping at the belt that crossed over his body. Where the black leather of his belt met the gold embellishments that came over his shoulder, there was an empty circle, and so you pinned on the brooch, directly in the centre, your hands lingering ever so slightly, not wanting to take them off of him.

"I love you too." he whispered above you, which led to you looking up at him, your eyes full of endearment for your one and only. A lock of his hair hovered just above your eyes, and so you gave in to your day-long wish, reaching up and tucking it lightly behind his ear, stroking along the strand as your hand left. And yet he caught it, holding it lightly in his own, and kissing it lightly, just above your knuckles. You could not get enough of the feeling.

"Now, I hate to do this to you, but I really must finish this research, but you're free to do whatever you want with my hair as I do.".

Your lover quickly transformed back into the alchemist he prided himself in being, as he sat back down in his chair, pulling your own next to his. Once again, you found yourself wondering how he could read your every thought and emotion with almost frightening accuracy, and you settled on the conclusion that his genius was simply immeasurable by your own standards. All that mattered to you was that if he truly had the power to decrypt your every thought, he was fully aware of the overflowing feelings for him that filled your beating heart daily.

And so, for the rest of the night, your hands brushed through his hair, braiding it once, twice, thrice, as he leaned ever so slightly into your touch, giving you reassuring hums as he shuffled the papers below him. Suddenly, watching the moon rise wasn't so bad, as long as this moment lasted until the sun came up, and you could watch the sunrise together.

#albedo #genshin #genshin impact #genshin oneshot #albedo oneshot #albedo fluff #albedo fanfiction #reader #fluff #gn reader #klee #diluc #kaeya #genshin imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #sucrose

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thenovelartist · 4 years ago

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Burned Beginnings, Chapter 9

<<Previous Next>>

25. Shooting Star

“If you could wish upon a shooting star, what would you want?”

Leaning back further in her balcony lounge chair, Marinette looked up to the sky to spot the few stars whose glitter could surpass the light pollution Paris offered. “Can you even really see them?”

In the chair beside her, Adrien turned his head up towards the sky. “Well, not really, but if you could, what would you wish for?”

Marinette hummed. “Like, what kinda wish are we talking about? Are we talking a genie wish or realistic wish?”

“Um… realistic wish,” Adrien answered. “Specifically, it’s been a little while since you decided not to pursue fashion, so have you decided what to do next?”

Marinette looked at him, only to see him looking inquisitively back at her. “Not quite yet,” she said before turning back to the sky. “I guess the more time goes on, the more that a part of me wants to have a job that would allow me to be around clothes in some way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I had to take a little time away from designing to clear my head, but… I think I’m ready to start picking things up again because I miss it.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Adrien said, his voice earnest and gentle and soothing.

“I’m not quite sure what that future looks like yet,” Marinette confessed. “But I think I’m ready to start moving forward on it. I’ll do some searching, maybe look for a boutique or tailor shop to work at.”

“I think that sounds like a really good idea, Marinette.”

She turned back to Adrien, only to melt under his affectionate gaze. With this man at her side supporting her like that, she felt like she really could do anything she put her mind to.

“Enough about me,” she said, shifting in her chair so as to face him better. “What about you? What’s your wish? Don’t think I forgot our promise you made me.”

“I didn’t,” he assured, twisting in his own seat to face her more. “I’ve been looking. And don’t judge me, but… I decided that I want to continue working for your parents.”

“Yeah?”

Adrien nodded. “I’ve done my own soul searching, thinking about what kind of jobs I might take. Deciding if I wanted to go to university or find a trade job. Laid out all my options that sounded interesting along with all the pros and cons of those jobs on so many pieces of paper that I lost my desk under that pile. And what I came to is me realizing I’m really happy with where I’m at and the people I’m working with. I did think about going to my old fencing school, though, and taking up that pastime again. But I’m uncertain if my reputation would precede me or not.”

Marinette shrugged. “If that’s what you want to do, doesn’t hurt to try.”

A small smile picked up Adrien’s lips. “We’ll see. I won’t rule it out yet until I know the answer.”

“As happy as I am to hear your progress,” Marinette began. “I also can’t help but wonder if you will for sure be happy with that. Because I feel like there’s more that you’re not telling me.”

For a moment, Adrien studied her with a small amount of surprise before relaxing with a sigh. “You really know me, don’t you?”

“Well, you do return the favor,” she said with a wink.

He huffed in amusement. “Yeah… guess I do.” He then took a fortifying breath. “Marinette, I definitely should have asked you this before I proposed, so I’ll ask you now. Do you want kids?”

Marinette’s brow furrowed in confusion before her stomach twisted into a knot. “Did we really never talk about that?”

A slight panic began to settle in Adrien’s expression. “No, I don’t think it ever came up.”

Exasperated, Marinette tapped her forehead with her fist. “Wow, what a fail,” she muttered before turning back to him. “Yeah, I do want kids. Two or three sounds like a good number. Is that okay with you?”

Marinette watched as Adrien’s shoulders relaxed as relief washed over his face, and she took that as a good sign. “Two or three sounds amazing.”

“Good,” Marinette said, feeling a sense of relief settle over her, as well. “I’m glad.”

“That being said,” Adrien continued. “Back to me working here, part of me wants to take up your parents’ legacy and then one day, be able to give the option of passing on the legacy to our kids.”

A gentle breeze blew by them, yet despite that, Marinette still felt her cheeks grow hot. “You…”

Adrien grinned. “I mean, there might end up being some other place I’d like working, but for the first time, I feel like I belong somewhere. I belong with you and your parents who’ve welcomed me with open arms. And cherishing and protecting that is more important than my job, you know? So, I want to stay here and be a part of this warm place with the people I care about and build something around this warmth. That’s my dream.”

Her heart hurt. She wasn’t even sure why it hurt, only that there were too many thoughts and feelings and emotions piling on top of each other and weighing on her heart. “Oh Adrien.”

She stood from her own seat, only to plop down in Adrien’s lap. He grinned, instantly cuddling her close to his heart and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You mean the world to me, Marinette. And I don’t really care anymore about shooting for the stars when I can have something far more grounded and stable and warm right where I’m at.”

She settled against him, nestling under his chin and relishing just being there with him. “Only if that’s for sure what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then you will always have my support.”

He squeezed her close once again, holding her tightly. It spoke all the words she needed to hear, yet he still whispered, “Thank you so much, Marinette. I love you so much.”

She smiled, feeling warm and oh-so-very-happy. “I love you, too.”

26. Moonlit Dance

It had taken months of planning and scoping out venues and securing everything needed. But finally, things were almost completed and the wedding was a month away.

Adrien was stoked.

However, there was still one thing he and Marinette had to sort out.

“We are not waltzing at the wedding.”

“Aww. Why not, princess?”

Marinette’s nose crinkled as she pouted. “Because…”

“Because?...” Adrien prodded. He didn’t think he was being unreasonable considering he’d let Marinette plan most of it and only wanted a couple things himself, this one included. Marinette had originally agreed… before hearing what it was.

“Because I don’t want to accidentally step on your toes.”

Adrien snorted in his attempt to hold back a laugh. “Come on. I’ll show you. It’s not that hard.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Oh?” Adrien raised a brow, growing grin on his face. “Is that a challenge?”

Marinette glared at him.

He chuckled then held out his hand for her to take as he bowed before her like a dance partner would. “Come on, princess. Partake in this moonlight dance with me.”

Marinette looked around the balcony they stood on, one covered with her chairs and a little table and basket plants. “There’s like… no room up here.”

He… had to concede to that. “Not for a waltz, no, but that’s not the point.”

Marinette glanced at his hand before looking back up at him, the fight leaving her eyes. “You really want to?”

“Well,” Adrien drawled out, feeling a bit mischievous. “If I’m being perfectly honest with you, this isn’t quite the moonlight dance I’d like to do with you.”

He watched confusion shroud Marinette’s face. “Huh?”

In a flash, he snatched her hand, pulling her flush with his chest. She gasped at the action, her eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Chuckling, Adrien lowered his lips next to her ear. “Yup, but the wedding is a month away, so I can wait until then,” he whispered.

Marinette, sharp as she was, caught his implication immediately. Sputtering, she shoved his chest, pushing away from her. “A-adrien!”

It was rare whenever Adrien caught Marinette totally off-guard like this. Normally, she had the upper hand or at the very least was able to retort back. But to see her so flustered stoked a fire in him, and if anyone thought he was going to waste the opportunity he was given and not continue to press his luck as far as it could go, they were wrong. “Awww, what’s with the surprise, princess? No witty comebacks today?”

She pouted, turning her face away, likely to hide the blush on her cheeks. “Oh, shut up.”

He snorted a laugh. “Wow, you’re really off your game if you’re resorting to snapbacks like that.”

“And you’re nothing but a tomcat if your head goes to the gutter with the words ‘moonlight dance’.”

“Only if it gets under your skin.”

“... okay, that was purposefully bad wording.”

“Look whose head is in the gutter now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Why do you always have to start these things?”

“Um, excuse me, but I have a hickey on my collarbone that says otherwise.”

She huffed, turning her head away and remaining silent

Adrien grinned, stepping up closer to her once again. “Oh? Did a cat catch your pretty tongue? Let me see.”

Before he could pull her face back towards him, she turned, sticking her tongue out at him.

And he caught her face in his hands and kissed her.

It didn’t last long, but he had made sure to kiss her hard and fierce, wanting to keep her surprised and on her toes. “Aww,” he teased once he had forced himself to pull away. He had to restrain himself to not immediately go back in for more. “This cat almost caught it.”

She looked positively red now. “Adrien, I swear…”

“Hmm?” he goaded. “What was that? Couldn’t quite catch the end of tha—mmpf!”

She didn't let him finish. She dug her fingers in his hair and yanked him closer, smashing her lips on his.

Oh, it was on.

He shoved her backwards. She struggled against him, not wanting to let him win. She never wanted to let him win. But they’d done this enough times for Adrien to know she wasn’t mad about his actions, or else she would have stopped and told him to knock it off.

Since she didn’t, he took that as an okay to keep shoving her backwards into the wall. She moaned into his mouth, suddenly using the wall to her advantage and pressing her body against him, and Adrien practically forgot how to breathe.

Gradually, what had started a battle slowed to a sensual tango as lips and tongues and hands lead and followed in time. Adrien was going to die between the way Marinette raked her fingernails along his scalp and across his shoulders and down his arms and…

Shit, what were they doing again? Because Adrien’s mind was shrouded in a thick haze that only allowed him to think of one thing.

Marinette.

She won this battle. Just like she did every time. He was such a goner when it came to her that he rarely minded. If marrying this woman meant she’d harass him within an inch of his life then turn around and black his mind out like this…

Where did he sign up and how fast could he do it?

It took him until much much later to realize the answers were A) he already had and B)less than a month’s time.

27. Future Kids

It was a week after the wedding, and Marinette and her idiot husband were just getting back from their honeymoon. The amount of make-up both of them would be wearing for the next week was shocking. And that was just on the visible marks they’d left on each other.

“Home sweet home,” Adrien said, opening the door to his-apartment-turned-their-apartment. He still had half a year left on his lease, in which time they’d go on the hunt for a new place. For now, the challenge of living together would be complicated less by moving. And it was best not to break the lease early if they could help it.

“My boxes are still everywhere,” Marinette commented, referring to the fact she’d brought several boxes of her things over. She still hadn’t moved all her stuff over yet, half her sewing supplies still residing in her parents’ house for the time being until they figured out where everything would go in the small place.

“You’re just settling in. I don’t mind it for now.” Adrien then turned to her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her in close. “This mess just means I get to have my wife live with me now.”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile, but before she could say a word, her phone went off. Adrien pouted, muttering something about the phone stealing her away, but she just laughed it off before checking it anyway.

“Oh, is it your mom?” Adrien said, looking at her phone as well. “Answer that.”

She shook her head. Adrien loved her parents and her parents loved him. Had Marinette not married him, they probably would have adopted him.

She answered the phone. “Hey, maman. I’ve got you on speaker.”

“Hey, Sabine,” Adrien said, sunny smile back on his face.

“Hi, Adrien,” her maman warmly greeted. “I won’t make this long for now, but you know Tom and I want to hear all about your trip. So, how about you come over for dinner tonight?”

“Yes!” Adrien instantly answered.

“Glad to hear it. Then I’ll see you both tonight at seven?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Um, I’m still here,” Marinette cried, good-naturedly.

“Sorry, sweetie,” her maman said with a giggle. “But it’s not like you have objections to that, right?”

Actually, Marinette did have objections, but she also knew that her parents were either going to ask her now or later, and since that ‘later’ might end up being during work, she might as well get it out of the way now. “No. No objections.”

“Great. Then I’ll see you both tonight.”

“See you then, Sabine.”

“Bye, Maman.”

“Bye, you two.”

After Marinette hung up, the smile dropped from her face as she sighed.

“Huh? Something wrong?” Adrien asked.

“No, not necessarily.”

“Yeah? What’s ‘not necessarily’ entail?”

Marinette took a breath. “Maman and Papa are going to start with asking about the trip, but I know them, specifically my papa, and at some point during this conversation, they—specifically Papa—are going to ask when they can expect grandkids.”

Seemingly unperturbed, Adrien just shrugged. “And we say ‘we don’t know yet’. Field the questions. It’s not like we don’t want kids, but neither of us know when the best time would be to start for them. Easy.”

“You say that now,” Marinette grumbled.

Adrien tilted his head, looking a little like a confused puppy.

Cute.

“Is that the wrong answer?”

“No,” Marinette dismissed. “It’s just that you say it so easily.”

“When it comes to your parents, talking with them is easy.”

“Then I’ll let you field those questions,” Marinette said, slipping out of his embrace. “I am going to go shower.”

“Oh, can I come with?” Adrien asked, sparkle in his eye and hope in his voice.

She scoffed, feeling a little bit of heat creep up her neck. “No, because I actually want to shower.”

“So do I.”

“Then wait your turn.”

“Why, though? Can’t I just come with you?”

“I don’t know. Will you behave?”

“I promise!”

Marinette huffed. “Yeah, I know what happened over the honeymoon. I don’t believe you.”

“So cruel,” Adrien said, pantomiming being stabbed in the heart. “It wasn’t like you slipped into the shower against my will two nights ago.”

Marinette paused. She supposed she did do that.

But considering what followed, it was hardly ‘against his will’.

“So…” His smile suddenly turned devious, and Marinette found herself thinking that grin was incredibly hot. “I guess I’ll just have to call ‘fair fair’ and return the favor.”

Okay, whatever you say, Hot Stuff. Do your worst.

She shoved that thought down as quickly as it came up, knowing she had to remain responsible or else they were totally going to miss dinner. She checked the time on her phone, biting her lip in deliberation. “Here’s the deal,” she eventually said. “Set an alarm; we shut this whole thing down with plenty of time to make ourselves presentable before we go over there.”

Adrien looked like a cat that got the cream, and Marinette knew by the racing of her heart that she was in trouble. But she’d realized during her honeymoon that she’d signed up for this.

She’d also realized during the honeymoon that she really didn’t mind.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #adrinette #AdrinetteApril2021 #fluff #and a little steamy #It's a day late #but oh well

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all-that-tmnt-jazz · 4 years ago

Note

Hello hello!! I've NEVER seen anyone do an ask like this, so I thought I'd do it!

How would the boys react to an S/O who goes deer hunting? Like, they'll leave for either a couple weeks/weekends at a time with little to no communication (deer hunting is a lotta work lol) but always come back with LOTS of yummy deer-goodies? (Jerky, sausage, steak, ground meat for chili, etc.) And said S/O LOVES using the antlers of any bucks they get to make hunting knives? (Or trinkets for the boys!)

Oooh This will be fun!

Warnings: None.

Incarnation: Bayverse

Extra Info: Remember, these guys have only seen a rainforest while being in a plane crash and only stayed long enough to fight Bebop and Rocksteady… And argue.

Leo:

He is shocked when you first tell him you go deer hunting

Honestly, he doesn’t know what to think

But, you tell him you’re going to Illinois for a week at the beginning of October with a promise to call when you can

You call when you get to your aunt’s farmhouse, but it keeps breaking up due to you being virtually off-the-grid

Leo spends the week pacing the lair, waiting for a call, text, or for you to come home.

You call again once you’re at Midway Airport in Chicago- you tell him you’ll be home in 8 hours or less

When you get to the lair, he attacks you in a hug.

Then he notices your clothes smell like a forest, and he holds you even closer, inhaling your scent

He lets you go about three thousand years later

That’s when you are able to show him what you brought home

You lead him to the kitchen and put on the island several bags

“I got two bucks, Leo! Two! My aunt taught me how to make jerky with one of them, so, that’s what this is- it’s really good, too.”

You hand him a strip to try, and he takes it

He looks at it with a skeptical eye before taking a child-sized bite

You watched him eat it slowly, then realize he likes it

You hear him mutter “damn” under his breath

“With the other doe I got, my aunt and I made ground meat for chili and such. I was thinking of making some tonight if you and your fam are up for it?”

“Of course- if it’s anything like this, it’ll be great.”

You smile at that.

You grab one of the other bags and look into it.

“In here are the antlers. I made some hunting knives out of them- look! I etched into the handle of this one a little turtle shell and a little crest I designed for you. What… What do you think?”

You take out one of the hunting knives you made and handed it to Leo

He looks at it carefully, absorbing every detail

“It’s gorgeous, Y/N.”

Raph:

You actually hadn’t told him you were going to Kansas to go hunting until the day of your flight.

You knew he’d panic and become worried about you and tell you not to go if you told him any earlier

So, that’s why you had your foot in a taxi when you did tell him

But, you called him when you got to the airport, and also when you landed in Kansas.

You told him you were going to be staying in the hunting cabin your cousin Abe and his husband Jon own, which is virtually off-the-grid

That doesn’t ease this boy’s worry about your safety

What if you get hurt? You won’t be able to reach anyone-

But when you tell him you’ll bring home a buck’s antlers, he finally takes a deep breath

“Stay safe, Love… Please…”

So, a week and a half later, you, Abe, and Jon are making sausages with different spices and flavorings- a family recipe- from the one doe and the one massive buck you were able to get

Once those last few batches are done, you pack up as much as the plane would allow you to carry and bring it home to New York

When you walked into the Lair, Raph kissed you like it had been years instead of two weeks

“C’mere, we made some sausages using a family recipe. I want you to try some.”

You bring the bags into the kitchen and took out one of the packages.

“These ones are jalapeno and garlic- my personal favorite.”

Raph takes it and looks at it from every possible angle.

When he tries it, he literally melts

“Please go hunting more often, Y/N…”

“But wait! Let me show you what I made from the antlers I got!”

From the other bag, you pulled out a handful of small sculptures

One was a small buck, another was a red-eared slider turtle, another was a large and functional hunting knife

But there was one more, the one you put the most detail

It was a photo-realistic sculpture of Raph

When he saw it, he was in awe

He held you tighter than ever- you had to beg to breathe before he let you go

Donnie:

He was actually really supportive of you going

Especially when you said it was a tradition to go deer hunting with your sister

(He’s a sucker for tradition, tbh)

So, that’s the main reason why you’re on a plane to your sister’s house in Iowa

“Please don’t hurt yourself… I couldn’t get to you fast enough if you do.”

You and your sister go out to the hunting cabin that your parents used to own and spend two weeks there

It’s really intense, especially since it’s so quiet

The moment you get back to the Lair, Donnie is asking you about what you got and if you made anything

You tell him you did- a new attempt at a family recipe for jerky with lemon/lime flavoring

He tried it and immediately fell in love

You also showed him the antlers you saved from the single buck you got

You hade made a hunting knife from one side

You watched Donnie examine your work- every little detail was admired and complimented

You then showed him the other pieces of the antler

“I know you really wanted to do something with it, so I saved it for you.”

He lit up, and immediately started thinking of ways he could add the antlers to his more permanent gadgets

He could have married you on the spot

Mikey:

He is actually the one who tries to talk you out of going

He loves all animals and feels bad for killing them for sport

But you explain that you aren’t killing for sport, but for food

“But you already have food here. Why do you need deer?”

“I make this special chili that requires it. You’ve had it and loved it, Mikey. Please let go of my leg so I can go catch my flight?”

He gives you puppy dog eyes that almost work on making you stay

Until you get a call from your sibling saying that they’re waiting for you.

He overhears your conversation with your sibling and reluctantly lets go of you.

“But like… Make it painless for them, okay? The deer, I mean?”

“I will make sure, Mikey. I promise.”

He watches you leave with the saddest puppy dog eyes, and you’re almost glad you didn’t look back

But, while in Illinois, you did keep your promise. You made all deaths quick and painless

You and your sibling soon took the buck you got and turned it into ground meat

You also took the antlers and turned them into handles for a pair of nunchaku- you would ask Donnie for a chain when you got back…

When you got home, Mikey made sure you kept your promise

You said you did, then went to Donnie who- within an hour- added chains to the twin nunchaku

Mikey nearly passed out when you gave them to him

He honestly loved them, but was just… shocked.

But he watched you make the chili, and when he tried it, he remembered that he did love it…

He was easier to convince next time you said you and your sibling were going hunting

#tmnt #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #deer hunting #hunting #tmnt x hunter!reader

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years ago

Photo

Potamoi (Greek River God) x Reader (sfw)

A commission for the wonderful and kind @atalantaroars! She wanted a meet-cute with the monster match I wrote for her awhile ago. Hope you all enjoy the hunky water boi as much as I did creating him!

There are two options for you today: hike a trail, or go one more week in the stifling silence of your house and go absolutely insane. It doesn’t take much mental convincing to pack up a little backpack with snacks and water, waking up while the sun is barely more than a hint in the sky. This might not be your usual mode of operation, to drop everything and spend time out in nature despite whatever responsibilities you still have at home, but you’ve been pushed to the fucking brink lately and need to spice things up.

There’s an unmistakable scent of growth the moment you step out of your car, one that calls your body forward as if you say welcome home. You take in a few long, deep breaths, trying to let the cold morning air medicate your soul in the only way nature can, a deep sense of relaxation overcoming your mind and body as you try to clear your worries away. Only when you feel mentally ready to take on the hike, do you approach the entrance of the nature reserve.

A large, wooden board is painted with the many different trails you can take, all winding around the mountain range, labeled with various symbols that indicate difficulty levels. While you don’t think you could manage one of the more difficult ones, you also think you might not find much fulfillment in one of the easier paths, so you settle for one a bit in the middle. This trail should wrap around one of the valleys, following the main river that brings life to a neighboring town, one fed by the melting snow from the tips of the higher peaks.

Everything is quiet, peaceful, you don’t see anyone else as you begin to walk the trail, basking in the sunlight before it’s drowned out by the towering trees. Birds chirp as you continue on, sticking close to the side of the matted dirt, right where vegetation dares to attempt growing. Wildflowers dot the side of the hill as the earth swells upward, white, light blue, and yellow smattering color amidst the green. The air is almost shockingly different from what you’re used to, your body is trying to compensate for the freshness, but it doesn’t quite know how yet.

When you take a break, the sun is already high in the sky, sweat now beading down your forehead. The water you carelessly packed tastes divine, you have to be careful not to drink too much or too fast, saving most of it for later. You even eat your lunch when you get to a pile of rocks that work as a table and seat, the flat, elevated surface perfect for tossing your food onto without worrying about it falling off.

Once you are satisfied that you’ve explored the trail as long as you desire, you decide that it’s about time to head back. Even though your path into the forest seemed straightforward and easy to remember, there are suddenly several branching paths that you didn’t even realize you passed just moments before… which isn’t good, to say the least. Biting your bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, you try to logic yourself into taking the one that seems like it blends seamlessly into the trail you’re walking.

Or maybe it would be best to keep going in the direction you were already heading, after all, the trails are supposed to loop around and head back to the parking lot, the keyword here being eventually. Some of them are supposed to take a seasoned hiker a full day, and you don’t remember how long this certain one is going to take because you had decided previously that you would turn back anyways.

Letting out a breath, you decide that it might be a better option to take the more straightforward path instead of risk getting lost, so you tighten the straps of your backpack and keep walking. As you go, you think about how best to ration what’s left of your water, in case you’re in for a much longer hike than you initially anticipated because you’re not sure if you can realistically make it.

You take another well-needed rest after a long while, trying to close your eyes and chill out, trying to find the same solace in nature that you felt earlier in the morning. Instead of that same, peaceful aura that settled around your body in a soft, gentle wave, you only feel more tense and anxious as you did before. The sounds of the forest are no longer warm and inviting, the screech of cicada is now like a hard, ugly accusation, the occasional snapping of twigs don’t fill your heart up with the thought of life, and the sky’s tone seems to turn almost a hateful gray as the sun makes an almost hasty descent.

Up ahead, there’s a river, and if you remember correctly, civilization is often downstream. Letting out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest, you look down at the water, internally fighting over what you should do. After a long moment of contemplation, you decide to stick to the trail, but just as you take a step on the crunching gravel, you spot someone over by the water. To say you almost tripped over yourself to get to them wouldn’t be an understatement; you almost bite the dust before you were able to catch your balance.

After regaining your stability and taking a second look, you realize with no small amount of shock that the man appears to not only be petting a deer but also… talking to it? You can hear the voice he uses on it, soft, soothing tones, clearly offering comfort of some kind. Whatever he is doing must be working, because the deer slowly stops thrashing about, it’s squeaking cries slowly dissipating as it seems to melt back into a state of calm.

Even though his back is towards you, he seems to sense your presence, because there’s an underlying tenseness in his body posture. Once the deer doesn’t seem too anxious anymore, he says, without so much as turning around, “I know you’re out there, at least do me the service of showing your face.”

“Um,” you say, after a moment unsure of what else to do, but introduce yourself, “hi. I’m very lost right now.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you wonder if he maybe was referencing some other person that is also hiding in the woods?

“I suspected,” he pets at a deer you hadn’t noticed prior, glancing up at you only after he manages to calm the creature down from its initial panic, “we don’t get a lot of your kind out this deep in the forest.”

“Er,” you look over at the deer, who seems to be regarding you with the utmost suspicion, “yeah, I wasn’t really planning on coming this deep into the forest, either. But, like, if you could point me in the direction of the parking lot, or literally any major highway, that would be absolutely fantastic.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s a massive, as in, you knew he was large for a man when you approached him, but you’re just now processing it all. He very well could be some kind of action movie star, his muscles, face shape, and stature all suggest that he’s very, very important, and you should pay attention to everything he says. As you watch him, he seems to look upwards at the sky, brow furrowed as though doing many mental calculations, then sighs.

“You won’t be able to leave this pocket of the forest until morning,” he says, releasing his steady hand on the deer’s flank.

“Um, what?” You aren’t sure if you heard him correctly, but you’re pretty certain he did not tell you that you can’t leave. “How is that even supposed to work? I came in through the main trail, surely there’s a way back.”

“Not once the sun is no longer in the sky.” He picks up a stick from the nearby banks, and now you realize that while his lower half is in the water, it’s not… it’s not human colors, more like… a kaleidoscope of some kind? Like he’s wearing those fancy mermaid tails, the kind you can buy off the internet, except what reason could he possibly have to wear one in the middle of a forest? “You will have to wait for night to run its course before you can return.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s not how basic geography works,” you say, tensing at the thought of spending however many hours the sun is gone out in the wilderness.

“It has nothing to do with basic geography, and you will do well to heed my words,” the man almost snaps, only marginally restraining himself from sounding rude. “This part of the forest encloses once the sun sinks below the horizon, and opens when it returns. It is this way to protect what little of Gaia’s children are left from your kind.”

You swallow nervously, not believing him in the slightest, so you think over your options in the meantime. There isn’t a lot for you to work with, your phone has no signal, and using your flashlight will eat up the battery fast than you might be able to find your way back to the main trail. Still, you’d rather be apart from him, even though he hasn’t given you any weird vibes beyond the obvious, you don’t want to be stuck here with him overnight.

So you do what you think is best, turning around and heading back for the trail, except there isn’t any trail. And by that, even though you were just walking on a gravel pathway barely more than five minutes ago, and you know it was in this direction, it’s nowhere to be found. Sucking in your breath, you close your eyes and count to ten, then whirl around and march back to where the man still lounges, halfway in the stream.

Trying to keep your voice from wobbling, you ask, “can you please point me to the regular trail? I think I… um, misplaced it.”

He pokes the water with the stick without looking at you, “you won’t find it until sunrise.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to say without trembling, “I don’t understand.”

With a sigh, he turns to the sandy banks, using the stick to draw a rudimentary chart, and in the dying light of dusk, you can manage to make out what he’s trying to convey. “This is the land of Gaia,” he draws out a circle, “which is the world you are familiar with. It is the physical plane at its most fundamental levels, meat and bone and blood grow and churn within the earth mother and her offspring. This land- this forest, is not a part of Gaia’s form,” here, her draws another bubble, halfway in the larger circle, halfway out, “halfway physical, but able to separate as it needs to. Do you understand?”

“Not really,” you say, trying to be truthful, and still just as anxious and frightened as ever.

He lets out a frustrated breath and tries to reiterate, “this separate pocket of world that can be hidden away or entirely separated on its own, and closes itself off once the sun sets. You must have stumbled over the boundaries while you were wandering, did you end up seeming to go around in circles on paths that don’t make any sense?”

Oh, god. “I- yes.”

“Exactly what I thought.” There’s a shimmering glimmer in your periphery, and you realize that his lower half is, in fact, a tail. “I’m sorry to inform you that you’re just going to be stuck here overnight.”

You feel absolutely defeated, miserable, broken, because how the hell are you supposed to be handling this now? Apparently, you’re trapped in some sort of fucking pocket dimension, and you can’t do anything about it, and the only other person here to help you is some sort of merman who seems less than pleased to be in your presence.

“So I just… wait here?” You’re doing your best to not cry, goddamnit. No fucking tears. In the meantime, you’re digging around your backpack for your can of bear spray, of which should completely wreck the man should he try to make the wrong move.

“I suppose,” he softens, just a bit, “you can stay here with me, because there are things roaming these woods that wouldn’t dare approach you so long as I am here.”

Oh, wonderful. “That would be nice,” you mumble, plopping yourself onto a rock, folding your legs up and making yourself seem small.

The woods are never really silent, so even though the two of you share no conversation, there is a background filled to the brim with dozens of different noises. Nocturnal creatures begin to creep out of their homes, an owl hooting just close enough for you to make out its specific call, crickets still chirping despite the descent of the sun, and the crunching of stray twigs and leaves upon the ground suggests a silent stalker. You’re suddenly thrilled to have accepted this odd man’s offer to stay by his side for the night.

The stars blink down, twinkling in the sky, almost like each individual eyes staring down at you from above. You remember that Ancient Greeks believe that each cluster used to be a living thing- Caster and Pollux, Cassiopea, Orion, and so on, people who died and then ascended into the sky to watch the earth below. You wonder if they are like guardians, keeping the inhabitants of the ground safe from anything that lurks in the depths of the void above, or if they are merely passing observers to whatever happens around them, trapped in time.

“So,” you swallow almost painfully, trying to make some conversation, “how do you know so much about the way this, um, pocket dimension thing works?”

“I told you that Gaia herself is protecting her children,” he says, not impatiently, nor unkindly. “The last effort to keep Prometheus’ biggest mistake at bay.”

“Right, of course,” you say, not believing him in the very slightest. “And you live here, then? With the blessings of Gaia?”

“Of course,” he says it like there’s no other possibility, “she looks after her children.”

“And I’m just a spawn of Prometheus?” You say it with some amount of humor, poking at his weird explanations, but he takes it seriously.

“Even if there are those here who would have you killed, just to chew your bones between their teeth and taste your blood. I will not allow that to happen.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to sound awkward about it, “thank you.”

Silence follows, and you hear some crunching of leaves accompanying the water trickling through its creek. Still, you’d rather not spend the night in awkward silence, so you chew your bottom lip and try to quickly come up with something else to talk about. Anything. You wonder if he might know about modern devices, or if he would even care, but you need to reassure yourself now that it’s too dark to see that he’s still there.

As though reading your thoughts, he speaks first. “Tell me about your home.”

Relief fills your veins, so you do. You spill your guts like you’re at a confessional and it’s your death day, opening up every single crevice of your life back in reality and letting it pour out of your mouth like a broken dam. Where you were born, where you lived, where you moved, school, the people who went to school, friends, families, enemies. Not necessarily in that order, the night goes so shockingly fast that you barely keep track of what you’ve already said. You tell him about cities, about corporations, about countries, about charities. Humanity at both its best and its worst, and even what happens in between.

He’s a good listener, too, offering questions here and there, following your train of thought even though sometimes it doesn’t even make sense to you. He seems to be able to pick up on any gaps of logic you’ve forgotten to say, asking for clarification on some things, wishing for more detail on others, even requesting information about kingdoms you know haven’t existed for hundreds of years. And… better yet, he seems to enjoy talking to you.

“So,” you say, putting on your jacket to fight the biting night chill, “does this part of the forest happen every single night?”

“Yes,” he says, and you may be imagining it, but you think there might be some kind of tone of relief in his voice. “Yes, the forests merge every day, only to part during the night.”

“Theoretically, then,” you fan your fingers out, folding them together, “I could come back. To… like, visit, or something.”

“If you wanted to, then yes, you most certainly could.”

You close your eyes tight, shutting out the stars and the moon. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose or anything, but like, if you’d want to know more about the modern human world, I could come back prepared. With like, an iPad and a PowerPoint ready.”

“Would you?” He sounds a bit mystified, and you realize you probably didn’t cover those two things during your talks. As he mulls it over, the first element of daytime bashfully pokes out from the trees, the sky lighting just enough to swallow up the stars.

“If you wanted my company.”

“Yes,” he says very firmly, “you’re…. Fascinating, a very fascinating specimen of your species. I do not sense any bloodlust that I’ve heard is so very common in your kind.”

That’s the nicest thing he’s said about you, and you find your chest thundering in response. “Tha-thank you, I guess.”

“And I would also like to see this iPad and PowerPoint.”

You feel your cheeks redden slightly. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

#exophilia #greek god #deity x reader #deity/reader #greek god/reader

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electricbluebutterflies · 4 years ago

Note

Garden work + soft babes (bonus points for domesticity + “you don’t have to do that”)

Things I will never be over - Chris and Melissa being awkward cats who absolutely do not know how to relationship. Post-series as per usual, PG-ish, also on ao3.

The unexpected plus side of finally having some quiet – Melissa can live her best plant-lady life without worrying about all of it getting trampled.

Honestly, it is weird with most of the kids off at different colleges. She had gotten so used to her role as accidental pack mom for a whole herd of god-knows-what – and she still isn’t sure what some of the younger ones actually are, never did get an explanation for the boy who can apparently turn invisible and still turns up on her porch from time to time – and now just as suddenly it is reduced if not over. Which is to say, there are still non-human beings that automatically become her problem at work and occasionally call her at weird hours because she’s a reliable source of comfort and normality, but the remaining local faction does not need her the same way right now and she is fine with that.

So, with only so much long-distance worrying she can do before she either gets bored or goes crazy (she’s not sure which is more likely), and the relative state of quiet having lasted a couple months now, Melissa has time to plant flowers and figure out her own relationship issues. And apparently today she gets to do both at once.

This was not the plan, she would like to point out. She is perfectly capable of doing relatively light yard work on her own, and how hard could it realistically be to dig a few holes for rosebushes anyways. But in that way that these things apparently happen now, Chris is around today and attempting to make himself useful, and while this was not how Melissa intended for her afternoon to play out, she has never said no to a genuine offer of help.

Besides, it’s a good excuse to stare at him while she figures out what conversation they’re currently avoiding.

She’s not sure if they’re going slow or if they’re both too traumatized from past relationships to do much of anything or… there are a lot of possible explanations for the past year, all of them neither comforting nor problematic. At this stage in her life, she can’t afford to be too impulsive, and she’d been convinced for two years that she was going to die alone because other obligations came first and then-

“Where did you want this one?”

The man she may or may not be falling in love with is holding a pink rosebush like he is not sure what it even is and it’s the cutest thing she’s seen in years.

It’s easier to show than tell. Melissa walks over and taps her foot at a spot by the corner of the house – best to keep pointy things away from anywhere they might get trampled or driven over. Late March might be a little early for this sort of project, but she’d like to enjoy the pretty for a while before something has the opportunity to get it, and given how chaotic summer is likely to be…

“You don’t have to do this,” she says for the sake of formalities, and because she’d like to get any potential fights over with. Not that she expects that, not with him, but her instincts are still too defensive and-

“You need help,” he replies, not at all a question. This is why she likes him, she thinks. Trying to get him to talk about or even admit feelings is a losing battle unless something else has gone very wrong, which is to say that in this current quiet post-everything phase of their lives it is probably never going to happen, but what he does not say he still shows. Protectiveness is an expression of love, figuring out why her dishwasher was making weird noises is an expression of love, attempting to help with her projects is an expression of love.

She knows on some level this is still a very bad idea. He’s a good man, yes, but he’s reckless and unreliable and-

No. Not so much anymore. Not since whatever the hell happened six months ago that she did not ask about because all she needed to know was she was the person he needed in the middle of the night for once not wounded, she was the person who just needed to be calm and yet not because she had also been through her own personal hell and no one makes great choices at three in the morning and-

“Something wrong?”

Damn him. Damn him and his pretty eyes and his constant fear of being the cause of her distress.

“No,” she says too quickly. She blinks, realizing that in the time she spaced out he managed to dig a decent enough hole for the rosebush and is now waiting for further instructions. And to think that for once she wasn’t distracted by the pretty even though it was right there and-

“Whatever you need…”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re too cautious?” This would be a better scenario if she didn’t look like hell, she thinks. Hair up in a messy bun, dirt on her face, she’s not actually sure where this tshirt came from or who it originally belonged to… this is the sort of conversation a woman who actually planned for this shit would try to do in a dress, but she is more reactionary than that and-

He looks at her all deer-in-the-headlights like that is not at all where he expected she was about to go. “No?”

There are so, so many things she wants to say right now. Moving slow is one thing but they don’t have to, not anymore, not with no normal-person obstacles in the way. She has run this hesitant relationship situation by everyone else in her life who might have opinions on it – a decade of her various loved ones sabotaging her predictably awful taste in people has taught her a few damage-control techniques – and all have given their approval for a situation that, at this current moment, Melissa is unsure will actually happen in the form she wants.

And maybe that’s the problem. She’s been too content with the glacial pace, too content with avoided conversations and little kindnesses and hesitant kisses and never talking about that one exception the same way they didn’t talk about her other impulsiveness, and at least this time they have stayed in each other’s lives, at least this time she didn’t try to run, at least-

“At some point we need to figure this out. The me and you part. Where this is going, if it’s going anywhere, if you’re ever going to-“

“I don’t want to weigh you down. You know that.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. She is not in the mood for whatever the hell self-loathing spiral he’s currently in, she is not debugging that, she is tired of all these defenses and-

“Every other man I’ve been with has had no problem taking what he wants. How the hell are you the first one who’s thought I’m breakable?”

It comes out too quickly, the only way she’s capable of doing anything here apparently. So she’s dated a few assholes, and at one point wasted ten years of her life being married to one. Show her any woman her age who doesn’t have skeletons like that, she’d love to see it. And she is well aware that the current version of this man opposite her right now has changed so much from when they first crossed paths, had everything brutally taken away before he could be fully human, and there may still be that darkness and…

And she does not care, she thinks as she waits for whatever conflict-avoidant response she’s about to have to deflect. Even if he wasn’t ridiculously her type, he’s one of two people in her world who can exist alongside all her other complications and she ruled out the other one as an option ages ago. It’s either this or dying alone, and she suspects he views her similarly.

“You are breakable,” he says slowly, and now is a bad time for her to be thinking about how hot his voice is but here they are. “You deserve better.”

She laughs. “You’ve seen my past. What I deserve has never been a factor.”

“I don’t know how to do this like normal people.”

Ah yes, there it is, the elephant they always try to avoid. Melissa knows better than to ask questions about the whole lowkey-cult-adjacent past, but she knows that’s where the baggage comes from. Whereas she has always been what he would define as normal, and she’s still occasionally a trainwreck.

“Does it matter? I’m not asking you to move in or marry me or any of the shit that I’ll probably have to do if I want it because you are so determined not to overstep and… I just want something. More affection. Play with my hair and tell me I’m pretty. Stuff like that.”

“I don’t read signals very well.”

“I have noticed.”

“I can try. If that’s what you want.”

“We’ve been avoiding defining the relationship for a year. I’m not sure it is a relationship. Yeah. I want.”

She expects another defensive comment – and that’s what they are, she knows, his various fears manifesting in ways that she is not the right person to fix – but instead Chris turns back to the task at hand. There are still a few more flower bushes in the back of her car and apparently that’s a good enough reason for him to let it go and-

“It’s okay,” she murmurs as she points out where he should put the rosebush’s mate. “I’m not good at normal either.”

#pixievixen #melissa mccall #chris argent #chris x melissa #mcargent #ebf writes fic

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keichanz · 4 years ago

Text

Loyal

i am going to get yelled at for this, but i just. i got the idea and i just had to write it. i honestly didn’t mean for it to turn out this way, but well...i’d be lying if i said i don’t like how it turned out. heh.

and you know what i don’t even know if i managed to stay with the “loyal” theme but tbh i don’t care i’m keeping the title because i’m too lazy to think of something else lmadofajoijiodf

majorly unedited. also because i’m lazy lel

warning: angst ahead. sorrynotsorry

for @inukag-week day 2: Loyalty

@fantastiqueparfait @sssuperbartola

Inuyasha didn’t know what time it was when he felt it but he knew dawn was still hours away. He went utterly still and held his breath as he tried to determine what the strange sensation was and where it came from. His ears flicked and swiveled atop his head as his brow furrowed and he tilted his head, listening, body tense.

Nothing, save for the whisper of the wind and the deep breaths of a sleeping human.

Frown deepening, Inuyasha opened his eyes and was greeted with the unsurprising sight of a dark room. Shippou and Kirara were curled up together outside after he’d banished the kit for being annoying. Although his nose already told him as much, a brief glance confirmed that Miroku and Sango were also gone. Not surprising; they thought they were being sneaky as they slunk past him almost every night to do God knows what. They really weren’t, but Inuyasha continued to let them think their late night “walks” were a secret.

For now, anyway. He was sort of looking forward to the next time they mercilessly teased him about his relationship with a certain girl because now he had some ammunition of his own to fire right back.

Heh. He couldn’t wait to see their faces when that happened.

Snorting quietly to himself, Inuyasha turned his gaze to the other occupant of the room. Curled up before him in her sleeping bag, Kagome was still asleep, however the lines wrinkling her brow and bracketing her mouth suggested it wasn’t exactly a sound sleep. Her face was slightly flushed with a light sheen of sweat dotting her brow, and it was clear even in sleep she was still in pain.

Ears lowering against his head, Inuyasha swallowed thickly and reached over to tenderly brush away a damp strand of hair from her face. Her skin was hot and she barely flinched when he gently wiped her forehead with the sleeve of his suikan. Feeling helpless, he carefully pulled back the sleeping bag enough to check the bandage on her arm and wasn’t really surprised to see that she’d already bled through it.

Worry and guilt clenched his gut and he bit back a sigh, his hand balling into a tight fist and feeing his claws dig into his palm. Kagome shifted in her sleep and the pained grunt she emitted made his chest ache something fierce.

They’d been on a regular shard hunt and came across the village rumored to have a demon plaguing it. They’d stuck around, and the demon had appeared, a gigantic deer demon with massive antlers sprouting out of his head. He’d had a torso of a human man, the body of a deer, and the bastard had been fast. The bow he’d wielded had been average, the run of the mill kind that Kagome used herself. But the arrows…Inuyasha had never seen anything like them. The demon had been able to manifest them out of thin air and they’d looked like whirling black energy, pure malice and evil that were more deadly than even Naraku’s miasma.

Anything those arrows struck had withered and died within a matter of seconds and Inuyasha did not want to find out what would happen if they struck human flesh. But then the bastard had caught him with his antlers, tossed him like a fucking rag doll into a tree, and when he’d come to a few minutes later, he’d learned exactly what happened when in contact with that dangerous black energy.

The demon had been killed courtesy of one of Kagome’s own arrows, imbued with her spiritual power, but at a cost. One of the bastard’s arrows had grazed her arm and it was shortly after that Kagome had come down with a fever despite their efforts to stop the wound from getting infected. She’d tried to play it off when he voiced his concerns and even mentioned going back through the well so she’d get better care with her time’s healers and modern medicine, but she was adamant on staying here. He’d eventually relented, but only because other than the fever she seemed fine, assuring them all that after some rest she’d be perfectly fine tomorrow. She’d gone to bed early without eating hardly anything of her dinner and Inuyasha hadn’t let her side since.

Clenching his jaw to withhold the pathetic whimper that wanted to escape, Inuyasha brushed his fingers against her flushed cheek and willed those beautiful blue eyes of her to open. Kagome sighed and he watched her face relax, her frown disappearing as she turned her head toward him. Clawed fingers combed through her bangs and gently pressed his knuckles against her forehead. Though still warm, her fever seemed to have gone down a bit and Inuyasha could breathe a little easier.

Heaving a sigh, the half-demon forced himself to pull away and get to his feet, being careful not to wake her as he padded to the doorway and pushed the doormat aside to peer into the night. He could still feel that strange sensation but he couldn’t pin down what it was or where it was coming from. It was almost like it seeped into through the cracks and with the gentle breeze, rolling through the window like an invisible magic.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and Inuyasha tensed. His skin pebbled, his stomach clenched, and the scent that drifted to him on the cool breeze made no sense. Burning wood and smoke, like a campfire, and something…heavier. Something he couldn’t decipher, something that reminded him of illness, the toxic remnants of an entire village razed to the ground, decaying bodies and scorched blood.

It was nauseating, sickening, burning his throat and stinging his eyes. It was death, it was rot, it was…

Coming from behind him.

A whisper of cloth and Inuyasha dove to the side with a curse a split second before something crashed into the wall right where he’d been standing. He didn’t even have time to question what the fuck was happening before he was moving again, scrambling to leap away from the creature throwing themselves at him with guttural, animal realistic snarls. Once more the beast launched at him and Inuyasha barely managed to avoid it this time, cursing as he attempted to put some space between them but that was difficult in the small hut.

Claws snagged his hakama, digging deep into his leg and gouging the flesh, but Inuyasha ignored it as he kicked whatever the fuck it was off of him and immediately dove to cover Kagome, determined to protect her from whatever was attacking him. The beast didn’t let him, launching at him again with an ugly, feral snarl and crashing into his side. He tussled with the thing for a moment, keeping sharp teeth and claws away from his face and thought he couldn’t get a good look at its face, he was able to determine that it was small and agile which explained how fucking fast it was. Spittle landed on his face and he grimaced in disgust but didn’t dare remove his hands from where he was keeping it at bay, one locked around a thin neck and the other clamped onto its side, claws digging in and tearing flesh.

It either didn’t notice or ignored what he was sure was a pretty serious injury as it continued to snarl and growl at him, emitting sounds that were not human as it snapped its teeth, writhing and thrashing against his hold. With a dangerous growl and a sudden burst of strength borne from his desire to keep this thing away from his Kagome, Inuyasha hurled the creature across the room and wasted no time in diving for Kagome again. He crouched over her and peeled back his fangs in a deadly snarl, amber eyes narrowed into a withering glare that dared anything to come closer, claws brandished before him, ready to defend, to protect his mate at all costs.

Surprisingly his opponent didn’t immediately charge at him this time and Inuyasha was able to finally get a good look at the thing that dared threaten him and his mate. What he saw, however, turned his blood to ice in his veins and the color to drain from his face as amber eyes went wide in horror. His heart stopped, his mouth dropped on a soundless cry of pure agony, and with a feeling of true, unadulterated terror seizing the breath in his lungs, Inuyasha slowly looked beneath him.

The sleeping bag was empty and so too were the soulless, black eyes that stared at him from a deathly pale and very familiar face.

Another sound of torture escaped him and Kagome hissed at him, saliva dripping from her open mouth as she crouched down, ready to spring forward, but for some reason hanging back.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha rasped, his throat feeling tight, but of course she didn’t respond, and maybe that was to be expected.

Because that was not her. This thing, this creature with the black eyes, an abnormally thin, bony body, and elongated limbs was not his beautiful, precious Kagome. No, it couldn’t be. This creature looked like a demon, with skin the color of a corpse, gray and lifeless. The hair that fell from her head was thin and scraggly, not at all like the thick, luscious waves he liked running his hands through. Those gorgeous blue eyes of hers, like an endless ocean, were replaced with soulless pits of black that stared at him without no recognition whatsoever.

Sure, it wore her clothes, the white and green fabric easily distinguishable as they hung off the too thin body. But Inuyasha was positive the being wearing them was not the girl in which they belonged to. This was not his companion, his best friend, his Kagome that always smiled so sweetly at him, held his hand, and told him she would always be by his side. Perhaps others would argue with him at first glance, but Inuyasha knew otherwise.

Because he was positive, without a single doubt in his mind, that Kagome would never, ever, stare at him with such seething, dark hatred in her eyes like this thing was doing right now.

Clenching his teeth hard and forcibly swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, Inuyasha took a steadying breath and analyzed the situation, body tensed, prepared to defend himself in case she attacked. Maybe whatever had possessed her was taking a moment to think itself – if it could even do that – because now she seemed to be studying him in turn, perhaps realizing that blindly rushing him like before wasn’t the best route. Those coal black eyes regarded him as she stalked back and forth, hissing and spitting, saliva dripping from her mouth in thick rivulets but paying them no mind.

Amber eyes tracked its every move but he didn’t move from where he was. That thing may not have been his Kagome, but he was pretty damn positive that was her body, so he had to be careful about this. He’d already injured it; his bloody claws could attest to that, but the thing hardly seemed to care, or even noticed the wound on its side, so Inuyasha didn’t worry about it for now. If Kagome was still in there somewhere, he knew she wouldn’t fault him for trying to protect himself and he tried to ignore the guilt that stabbed at his gut.

Gritting his teeth, wanting to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness for allowing this to happen to her, for not protecting her like he vowed he would, Inuyasha studied the wound on the thin arm, what he was almost certain was responsible for this grotesque transformation. The bandage had fallen off and the flesh around the wound had turned black. It oozed something that looked like blood, but that too was so dark in color it nearly looked as black as her eyes. Inuyasha could sense it pulsing with a dark energy, however, and it was the same energy as those fucking arrows the deer demon had conjured.

It had turned her into this and if that bastard had still been alive, he would have gladly tracked it down so he could destroy it himself, bring it back to life, then kill it again.

Kagome hissed at him and crouched low, ready to spring forward, and Inuyasha tensed, prepared to stop her.

“Kagome,” he whispered, watching as she spit and growled at him while clawing the floorboards, “I’ll save you. I swear it. I’ll get you out of there if it’s the last thing I—”

“Inuyasha?” Shippou’s called from behind the reed mat, voice drowsy. “Is Kagome—”

“Shippou, no! Stay back—!”

With an inhuman screech, she lunged forward and Inuyasha met it halfway, launching himself at her and taking them both to the floor. Inuyasha could hear the kit’s horrified scream but didn’t even spare him a glance as he struggled to restrain the thrashing and biting creature, a sting of colorful curses spewing nonstop from his mouth among the snarls, hisses, and growls. She was freakishly strong for having such a frail body and by the time Inuyasha had restrained her by locking her arms within his own, he was sporting bite marks and scratches all over his body.

Cranking her arms behind her back and using his own to pin them in place, Inuyasha had managed to get them up onto their knees by the time Miroku and Sango crashed into the hut, weapons drawn, ready to fight. When they saw what they were facing, however, twin gasps escaped both of them and Sango’s hand flew up to her mouth as Miroku simply gaped in shock. He would have explained right then and there, but it was taking every ounce of his strength to hold her back as it was, so all he managed was a grunt and a sharp growl to draw their attention to him.

“Get Kaede,” Inuyasha hissed and jerked is head back to avoid getting head butted by the thrashing human-turned-demon in his arms.

“Now!”

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed and Kagome was still trapped inside herself, forced into being a mindless creature hellbent on slaughtering anyone that dared draw near enough. With Inuyasha and Miroku’s help, Kaede had bound her wrists with sacred sutras because if she wasn’t trying to claw someone else when they got too close, she turned her hands on herself, scratching her skin raw, the claws tipping her fingers deadlier than the sharpest knife.

She’d long ago shred her clothes to ribbons and so too every single piece of clothing they’d provided her thereafter, so Inuyasha came up with the solution of wrapping her in his suikan. The firerat was stronger than her claws, damn near indescribable, so she was thankfully unable to tear through it.

They tried everything to get her to come back. Spells, chants, potions, medicine—nothing worked. Kagome spat out every potion, laughed when Kaede attempted a new incantation, and medicines applied to the wound on her arm had no effect. Talking to her didn’t help. She either outright ignored them or hurled insults left and right, calling them derogatory names, filthy slurs, her gravelly voice filled with hate and malice.

It stung the most whenever she called him a filthy half-breed, abomination, a disgrace, or any demeaning term linked to his heritage. Inuyasha knew it wasn’t her, though, and it was something he told himself over and over again as he endured every hate filled word, every curse and every insult tossed his way without no regard.

After nearly destroying Kaede’s home in a fit of mindless rage, they had been forced to lock her inside an empty storage hut. It was half the size of Kaede’s hut, but it was the only option they had. Kagome, of course, hadn’t liked that and she’d screamed for the entire first night she was locked in there.

And through it all Inuyasha sat right outside, his heart aching in his chest, hating what had happened to her, but hating himself more for how he was forced to treat her, like nothing more than a low-level demon.

It hurt. God, it hurt like hell, seeing her like this, unable to do anything about it and as he’d sat there listening to her scream and curse every single one of them a horrible, gruesome death, he’d cried.

Inuyasha didn’t think he’d ever felt more helpless, more lost, and for the first time in what was probably his entire life, he prayed. He prayed to whatever Gods would listen to him, begging them to help his Kagome come back to herself, to abolish whatever had a hold of her soul and to have her mind released from its never-ending torment.

And even when the weeks turned to months and still there was no change, Inuyasha refused to give up. He would never give up on her, because he knew she would never give up on him. Hell, she hadn’t given up on him, refusing to run away all those times he’d turned full demon and he was determined to do the same for her. He’d never leave her. No matter how many times her harsh words scarred him worse than her claws did, no matter how many times her cruel laugh echoed in his ears whenever he told he he’d never leave, and not even when the others were beginning to lose hope.

Miroku and Sango were staring to believe they had lost their friend, the evil plaguing her mind too strong, too evil to purify. He never listened to them, though. Whenever they tried to reason with him, to try and convince him that Kagome may never come back, he always turned his back and simply walked away. He wouldn’t hear it. Kagome would come back. He swore to her, he promised, he vowed that he would save her, and he would if it was the last thing he ever did.

And after everything had been said and done, and he’d exhausted all other options, avenues, and possibilities to bring her back, if saving her meant taking her life if only to save her from herself because he knew she wouldn’t want to live like this, hurting them at every opportunity, then so be it.

And it really would be the last thing he ever did because after he took her life, he’d take his own, knowing that he’d be unable to endure the guilt, the pain, the loss of his precious, kind, beautiful Kagome.

Miroku and Sango eventually gave up and stopped trying. They mentioned something about trying to find the jewel shards before leaving, but he hardly cared. The jewel shards, Naraku…they weren’t important anymore. Nothing mattered but saving Kagome and he put every ounce of his energy into helping her.

Shippou, surprisingly, stayed behind with him. He’d gone mute on that fateful day Kagome had become something else and hadn’t said a single word since. The fox sat with him sometimes outside Kagome’s hut and they listened to her thrash around inside, trying to escape, all the while hurling insults left and right, but they hardly fazed him anymore. Shippou seemed numb to it too and Inuyasha worried for the kid, but there wasn’t much he could do outside of being there for him, so now it was a common occurrence for Shippou to sleep curled in his lap.

After all, they only had each other now. Kaede was around, and it seemed she too had given up, but she never turned down Inuyasha if he requested her help with something. He was grateful for it, but he knew she was only doing it to appease him. He didn’t mind, though. He could sense the old woman’s sorrow as clearly as he could Shippou’s, and knew she’d come around once Kagome began showing signs that she was coming back.

He didn’t know when that would be, but he was determined to make it happen, no matter what he had to do, how many miles he had to run or how many demons he had to slaughter. He wasn’t giving up.

Kagome had remained loyally by his side at his darkest times, and he would do the same for her, loyal to the end.

It was nearing the end of the eighth month now and he was no closer to finding a cure than he was when it all began. He’d caved around the fourth month and finally crossed through the well to explain what had happened to her family. Unpredictably they had taken the news hard, but they all had faith in him that he could bring her back. And he would. He swore to them that he’d bring her back as herself again and when Mama had hugged him, he’d returned the embrace.

Inuyasha was positive she’d felt him shaking as she held him, but that was okay because he had smelled her tears.

It was just before dusk. Kaede and Shippou had retired to the old woman’s home and were having a quiet dinner. They said nothing as their half-demon companion stood and left without a word.

Inuyasha stood outside the door to her little hut and for once she was quiet. She still growled and he could hear her stalking around inside, no doubt sensing his presence, but for once she wasn’t screaming expletives or insults. Resting a hand on the wooden door, he leaned his forehead against the cool wood and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Kagome’s sweet scent had long ago been replaced by that wretched, nauseating stench he likened to that of a decaying body, but he’d gotten used to it. In the end, it was Kagome’s scent, so he accepted it.

He released the breath in a long, shaky sigh, and hardening his resolve, Inuyasha unlocked the door before sliding it open and stepping inside.

If he was surprised Kagome didn’t immediately barrel into him in her bid to escape, he didn’t show it as he paused before leaving the door wide open. The dying sunlight illuminated the darkness within and the slits located close to the ceiling that served as windows let the barest amount of muted yellow to spill through onto the floor. Kagome stood with her back pressed against the far wall, snarling softly at him in warning and black eyes narrowed into a murderous glare, but still she didn’t attack him or try and escape. Her hands were still bound behind her back, giving her a disadvantage, but that had never stopped her before.

Inuyasha suspected it might be because throughout the months he’d tussled with her she now had an understanding that he was stronger and faster than her, but he didn’t dwell on the thought for long. It was rare that she allowed him within ten feet of her, let alone with her in the small hut, and he wanted to take advantage of it for as long as he can.

Because it would be the last time either of them would be able to watch the sunset and he wanted to give her something beautiful to look at while he finally said goodbye.

Golden eyes that had lost their glow locked with soulless, empty black and Inuyasha slowly crossed the distance between them. Kagome’s snarl increased in volume, a clear warning to stay away, but he ignored it and stopped in front of her. She snapped her teeth and tried to dash away, but he stopped her, darting his hands out and grasping her shoulders in a tight grip, pressing her back against the wall. Calmly he waited for her struggling to cease, clenching his jaw as she sunk her teeth into anywhere she could reach. He endured the pain, caging her legs with his own and only minutes later did she stop resisting, giving a very aggravated snarl to convey her evident displeasure.

When all she did was continue to stand there and growl at him, Inuyasha slowly eased up the pressure on her shoulders, ready to restrain her again if he needed to. Apparently, however, she’d accepted she wasn’t going anywhere so she remained where she was and he lifted his hands until he was cupping her face. He ignored her bared teeth and snarl and simply stared at her, taking her in, amber eyes flicking across the twisted features that belonged to his beloved.

Her face was dirty, smudged with dried blood and mud. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes were sunken, and her jawline was pronounced. Ebony hair, tangled and course, fell into her eyes and he brushed the strands away. She snapped at his fingers. He ignored it and brushed his thumbs across her prominent cheekbones.

“Kagome,” he whispered, his voice ragged, tortured, the raw pain in that single word clear as day.

Kagome didn’t hear it. She growled at him and wrenched her shoulders to free herself, but the attempt was weak.

Inuyasha’s eyes grew hot and he swallowed thickly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against her own. Her skin was cold and clammy.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped and couldn’t, didn’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Kagome. I tried. Please believe me when I say I tried so hard, but I couldn’t…I…”

A choked sob erupted from his throat and he had to close his eyes, just for a moment, as he struggled to compose himself. Kagome was unresponsive to his pain, teeth bared in an annoyed scowl, a steady growl in her throat as she glowered balefully at him.

Sucking in a ragged breath, he opened his eyes and stared into that empty gaze, dark as shadows, desperately searching for any trace of the woman he knew was in there somewhere, any sign of the beautiful blue that he’d always been able to drown in.

“Come back to me,” Inuyasha begged, the tears running unchecked now but he hardly cared. “Come back to me, Kagome, please. I can’t…do this without you. I need you with me, Kagome. Please…please come back…”

She didn’t come back. Kagome had gone completely still, black eyes twin voids of eternal nothingness, her features now lacking any sign of animosity.

Another sob escaped before he could stop it and cradling her face in his hands, Inuyasha pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were cold, dry, unmoving beneath his own as he kissed his beloved for the first, and last time.

“I love you,” he rasped against her lips, his hands shaking now. “I love you so much, Kagome. If I could give my life to some higher power to save you from this hell, I would in a heartbeat, but I’m afraid this is the only thing I can do for you.”

Unpredictably she said nothing and stood there, staring right through him, motionless, and with a strangled sob Inuyasha crushed her to him. He pressed his face to her bony shoulder and wept, wishing there was another way, desperate for any other solution to make itself known right then and there, but of course it didn’t. He knew this was the only way, and he knew Kagome wouldn’t want to live like this.

He should have done this a long time ago, but he just…he couldn’t…

Gritting his teeth as another wave of anguish washed through him, so strong his knees almost gave out, Inuyasha pulled back, pressed his palm to her cold face, and gave her one last fleeting kiss.

“I love you,” he murmured and shifted so he stood behind her, slipping one arm around her thin waist while his free hand hovered above her chest.

Above her heart.

More tears spilled from his eyes, running hot down his cheeks, but he paid them no mind, his claws poised, ready to end her suffering. His hand shook and he tried to steady it; the last thing he wanted to do was cause her unnecessary pain by missing. Dropping a kiss to her head, Inuyasha directed his gaze outside, the doorway framing a beautiful sunset that showered the earth in glowing reds, oranges, and yellows.

He smiled and hoped that Kagome saw the beautiful sight, too.

“Forgive me,” he whispered and pressed forward—

“I…n…a-a…s…ah…”

Inuyasha froze and the breath stalled in his lungs. His eyes went wide and his heart slammed so hard against is ribcage he was sure she could feel it. Blood pounded in his ears and his throat felt dry, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

Was…was he hearing things? Was he so desperate his mind was playing tricks on him? He waited, his breathing coming in gasping pants, the hand that had been ready to plunge into her chest shaking. He strained his ears and hoped, prayed it was real, that he wasn’t hearing things—

“In…sha…c-c-cold…”

The thin body he held against him started to shake even more violently than his own and he felt a feather light touch on his hand, so cold it could be ice. The sob that erupted from his throat was borne from a mix of intense, powerful relief and a joy so palpable, so strong it chased away the chill in his body, leaving a warm, wonderful sensation he’d thought he would never feel again.

“Kagome,” Inuyasha rasped in a voice so raw it was barely audible as he stumbled around her to see her face.

Blue. Her eyes were blue, gorgeous, endless pools of midnight oceans that he had missed so fucking badly during the past eight months. With a sound that was a mix between a sob and a laugh, Inuyasha gathered her in his arms and fell to the floor, the strength abruptly leaving him. He cried into her shoulder, his hold on her tight, not wanting to ever let her go. God, he had almost…! If she hadn’t…!

“Inu,” Kagome breathed, her voice a mere wisp of what it was and Inuyasha finally managed to compose himself enough to lean back and stare into those sorely missed blue eyes. His face was flushed, his cheeks were wet, but he didn’t care as he cupped her face in his hands, watching in stunned amazing as life bled into those dear features once again. Her skin warmed and lost that deathly pale color, her cheeks filled out, and her lips, pink and a little dry, parted on a quiet moan.

“Shh,” Inuyasha gently soothed her, smoothing back her hair, reveling in its silky texture. “D-don’t talk. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay…”

Over and over he said those two words and he didn’t know if he was assuring her or himself as he held her, kissing her face, her lips, wanting to cry and laugh at the same time when he felt her hands weakly grab his kosode. She tried to talk but he shushed her, telling her that he was here, he’d protect her, she was safe, she was back and he was never, ever letting her go.

Of course, Kagome – his beautiful, sweet, stubborn Kagome – didn’t listen and once more tried to ask him something, but a violent coughing fit cut her off and Inuyasha didn’t think he’d ever bellowed louder for Kaede than he did right then.

Hours later, after Kagome had bathed with the help of Inuyasha because hell if he was going to let her out of his sight and gotten some food and drink into her belly – or at least what she managed to keep down – he, Kagome cradled in his lap, Shippou, and Kaede all sat around the old woman’s fire pit, marveling at the miracle that happened.

Wrapped once more in his suikan, feeling warm for the first time in months and also feeling like she could sleep for a solid week, Kagome was content to rest against her hanyou as he combed his fingers through her hair, occasionally dropping a kiss to her head where it lay on his shoulder. Shippou had barely left her side as well and a few tears still leaked from his eyes as he curled himself against her stomach, small hands clutching her borrowed suikan for life.

Inuyasha didn’t mind it and every once in a while he even stroked the kit’s hair, a gentle reassurance that everything was alright now.

Kaede watched them with a truly happy smile, her single eye warm and also bright with tears. Miroku and Sango were still hunting for shards, but they would be back soon, she wagered. It had been just over a week since they’d left and she knew they were due back any day now. It would be a happy surprise to find Kagome back to herself, she imagined, but for now she was glad Inuyasha and Shippou had this time with her to themselves.

Getting to her feet, Kaede quietly excused herself, paused to lay a hand on both Inuyasha and Kagome’s shoulders, before leaving the hut to give them some alone time.

Kagome sighed and nuzzled his shoulder, squeezing his hand where his fingers were laced with hers. Inuyasha squeezed back and dropped a kiss to her forehead.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he whispered, reluctant to wake the slumbering kit curled up against her. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Mm,” Kagome grunted and he grinned because he knew what that meant. God, he had missed her so much.

“Stubborn,” he chastised, though his tone lacked any heat as he pressed his mouth to her temple, simply breathing her in and letting her sorely missed, sweet scent surround him.

“‘Course,” she breathed, keeping her eyes closed. “How else could I have…come back to you.”

As it always did when he thought about it, his heart clenched and he closed his eyes, his grip on her tightening just a little.

“Kagome—”

“I’ve been thinking,” she interrupted him, her voice a little stronger than before, and Inuyasha held his breath. “And I think…I know what brought me back.”

Inuyasha went very still and leaned back just enough to catch a glimpse of her face. Midnight blue collided with deep amber and the breath caught in his throat.

Then she smiled and his heart started beating again. Christ, the power this woman held over him…

“I don’t remember much,” she admitted, keeping her eyes on his. “When I was…you know. But the only thing I do remember is this burning, intense hatred for…well, everything. There was no logical reason for it; just pure, unadulterated loathing for every living thing. It swallowed me whole and it was cold and dark and…anyway.”

She paused to clear her throat and it was obvious he was fighting sleep, but was determined to keep going. He brushed her hair away from her face and she tipped him a sleepy, but warm smile.

“I think…that arrow, the one the deer demon hit me with. I think that black energy was just…pure hatred manifested into a physical form. So it makes sense that when it got into my blood stream, it consumed me and I became a living, breathing, giant mass of roiling hate and malice. So tonight, when you came to me and…and you said—”

“I told you I love you,” Inuyasha finished for her, blinking in surprise. But then he frowned and shook his head, disbelief on his face.

“No,” he murmured. “It can’t be that simple…can it?”

Kagome smiled again and shrugged.

“Think about it, though,” she murmured and gave a small yawn. “Love has been proven to be stronger than hate. Remember when we were battling Kaguya and I brought you back…well, by kissing you? I told you then that I loved you as a half-demon, Inuyasha. So if my love for you brought you back then…why can’t yours do the same for me?”

Inuyasha stared at her for so long without saying anything that Kagome was about to ask if he was alright. But then he sighed, shook his head, and the crooked grin he gave her warmed her more than his suikan every could.

“Keh,” he muttered and leaned down to rest his forehead against her own as he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, tenderly stroking the skin just beneath her eye.

“Kagome.”

She blinked. “…Yes?”

“Are you really trying to tell me that love conquers all, because I swear to god—”

“Ohmigod, you brat, shut up,” Kagome said around her giggles and swatted at his chest, blue eyes bright with her mirth and her smile completely enchanting. Inuyasha chuckled with her and took the chance to steal a few kisses from her, loving the way she immediately melted against him with a quiet hum of content.

“Alright, wench,” he whispered and kissed her one last time before pressing his lips to her forehead. “I accept your completely cliché and sappy theory, now get some rest. I know you’re exhausted and your voice is giving me a headache.”

Kagome swatted his chest again and he grinned, unrepentant.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he promised her, voice soft as Kagome snuggled against him and he felt her hand worm its way into his kosode to press her hand against his chest, right above his heart.

Inuyasha’s throat tightened and he swallowed thickly, moving his hand to cover her own. Fuck, but he loved this woman so goddamn much.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he told her in a voice thick with emotion.

“Promise?” she whispered, seconds away from sleep.

“I promise.”

“N’yasha?”

He sighed. So stubborn. “Hm?”

“Love you.”

His heart swelled and he closed his eyes to stave off the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. He took a moment to compose himself, burying his nose in her hair to breath in her scent, letting it soothe him, ground him like nothing ever had.

“I love you, too, Kagome,” he whispered, heart in his throat. “So fucking much. Now sleep, goddammit, before I smother you with the runt.”

He was rewarded with a soft, sleepy giggle and a flash of an impish grin before his Kagome finally succumbed to the peaceful throes of sleep.

Inuyasha stayed up for as long as he could, simply watching her sleep and listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, letting the reassuring sound and her gentle breathing lull him into a state of lethargic relaxation. Before long he felt the pull of slumber himself and with his kit and beloved cradled safely in his arms, Inuyasha was content to fall into the first deep sleep he’d had in eight very long months.

#inukag week 2020 #day 2: loyalty #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #loyal #keizfanfiction #oneshot #ITS ANGSTY Y'ALL #but dont worry no one dies #because cmon its me #like i can actually kill of any of my babies ;adjff #but i DID cry while writing this #a lot #mostly because im a giant baby with lots of feels but #anyway #hope you enjoy hahahahaha

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tsubaki3192 · 4 years ago

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250+ Followers HC! Artist!MC Draws a Portrait of Nobunaga, Ieyasu, Kenshin, Mitsuhide

Requested by: @puffpuff300

Note: Thank you so much! Haha this sounds like so much fun… So here we go!

Haha… Not all of these are portraits or are they drawn, but…

Edit: I’m so sorry it took so long! But now I think I’m back in business!

Please let me know if you’d like to be (un)tagged!

--------------------------------------------

Nobunaga:

Honestly? You just loved the way the paint seems to splatter itself on the page.

No, before I properly begin, you don’t necessarily do traditional painting. You like the abstract ones. Like Piccasso… but not quite his style xD

Piccasso’s style… Would confused the shit out of NObunaga if you drew him in that style- I swear if you don’t paint him like that at least once, I’ll smack you xD

Anyway, your paints are precious to you. You know that Nobunaga might be able to get some oil paints for you, but acrylic paint has always seemed to be better for you. That, and you’ve gotten used to it.

On the night you arrive at Honnoji, you’re carrying your art satchel, filled with paint, a couple of canvases, and your beloved brushes. You were in Japan to paint some of the blooming cherry blossoms and scenery at the time.

Dragged into this mess of a Princess and chatelaine duties made you miss painting so badly. Even picking up a calligraphy brush reminded you of the calligraphy-brush style paintings you had been studying before you had arrived.

So you grab the a4-sized canvas and wander the hallways for days, as you search for the best thing to draw. Honestly? You’ve had to white the canvas multiple times simply because nothing seemed right.

That sakura tree in the corner of the castle gardens? Nope.

The bustling streets of Azuchi town in the middle of the day? Hm...

The Ghost of Mitsuhide, smirking wildly as he wanders down the hallways? Not that either.

Not even the pretty Mitsunari seemed to capture your attention for long.

Ironically though, you didn’t even think of paining the lord of the castle at first, perhaps because his ego didn’t need to be brushed up further?

At the end of the day, you’ve decided to retire to your room, having wasted the whole day wandering the town and castle, listlessly, tirelessly and unsuccessfully seeking the perfect scene to paint.

Weirdly enough, just after dinner, you somehow end up outside the tenshu, peering through the gap the raven-haired lord left in the doorway.

What a sight, though, to see Nobunaga hard at work, that frown finally focused on something other than yourself. You’re suddenly filled with inspiration, and you set down opposite the gap, sketching the outline of exactly what you’re seeing: the gap between the doorway, and Nobunaga seated at his desk.

You know he can see you: You’ve spotted that all-knowing smirk of his. But he doesn’t speak or move until you begin to leave, having finally marked out the correct colours in pencil.

“Fireball, you may enter the room if you wish-?”

Unsurprisingly, you had jolted at the sound of his voice and bolted from the opening of his door, leaving a baffled Nobunaga staring at your empty postion.

2 days later, you leave the completed painting on his desk, covered by a square of leftover fabric you had used to make the kimono you wore that day.

He unveils it curiously, only because you didn’t leave a note of any kind.

Honestly? He just kinda stares at it- curiously- since the painting seemed even more realistic than the ones circling at that time.

And he just laughs, leaving it hanging against the wall beside the Kimono you had made for him.

Mitsuhide:

Okay… So catching this one somewhere paintable is simply impossible. Believe yourself- You’ve tried.

In fact the only reason why you’re trying to paint Mitsuhide is: 1. You don’t have a camera, and 2, He’s just so ethereally beautiful and 3. He’s never lingered in somewhere pretty or ‘nice’ enough for a sufficient amount of time to even sketch him.

As for Mitsuhide, he, without a doubt, is teasing you. He’s seen the paint tubes you brought with you on that night you had first arrived in the Sengoku Era, and he’s seen that sketchbook- or rather paint-book- of yours, filled with random practice paintings of flowers you’ve spotted in the Azuchi gardens-

or Kyubei, which you had admittedly sketched multiple times. Why were both Lord and Vassal so pretty?

and has figured out their uses after stealing a blank page from your book and a couple of paint tubes.

You’ve found that same torn page tucked within the pile of paperwork when he requested your assistance once.

It was kinda cute too: fingerprints and finger painting galore xD

You’ve also spotted paint residues of blue beneath his fingernails, much to your amusement.

Anyway… So you’ve been trying to paint an image of Mitsuhide with a parasol beneath a willow tree for awhile now… And it’s to the point where you’re tempted to just use your imagination bc he’s simply not letting you.

But you just snap at him, one day, after having had a VERY bad day. And he just… relents, standing statue-still despite you still grumbling beneath your breath with every glance towards him.

You stuff Kyubae into the image too bc he deserves to be immortalised in a painting with his lord….

It takes a week, on top of all your other duties, to complete the painting, and if that’s not the best painting you’ve ever painted, you’d be lying to yourself.

Honestly, even though he’s curious and teasing about it, Mitsuhide only finds out once you’ve completed the painting. Yes, he could’ve seen the painting at any time, but a part of him wanted to keep that as a reward for all his hard work.

He makes that adorable blushy pout when he later realises he simply could’ve asked you to see the painting: Kyubei’s seen it before he has.

You leave the painting on his desk under all the paperwork there is, knowing full well that his curiousity would get the better of him and he’d stop working-

It works, but only at the expense of your blush from his tease when he finds you in the kitchen with Masamune, rewarding yourself with Mochi.

He’s secretly proud of it, and it’s the only one he’ll willingly hang in his room.

Ieyasu:

Ehhhh…. This one’s kinda easy, okay?

So you’ve always wanted to paint Ieyasu with Wasabi. It’s been on your agenda ever since you first caught him playing with the baby deer 3 nights after your arrival in Sengoku Japan.

The only thing is, you’ll have to resort to using Traditional watercolour techniques, since you: 1. Had no paints on you, and 2, canvases didn’t exist back then. You could try to make one, but you swore it wouldn’t turn out as good as the store-bought ones.

So you do paint it. From your memory, and from whatever scenery you could draw from the Azuchi garden.

It’s pretty funny, actually: You know most of the Azuchi warlords are aware of what you’re up to. And by that, you mean all but Ieyasu, who claimed he couldn’t care less, and Mitsunari, that oblivious genius.

Nobunaga and Mitsuhide knows because they’ve been watching you, and Masamune and Ranmaru only knows because Hideyoshi found out.

Long story short, you’ve been neglecting yourself: forgetting meals and overall becoming a Mitsunari 2.0…. Hence the whole “Hideyoshi” thing.

Honestly, it’s a surprise the receiver of the painting doesn’t know. Usually Ieyasu would be the type to scold you with harsh words before you even get to painting him.

But not this time.

Actually, you’re certain he’s been avoiding you. For what reason? Who knows. But painting from memory was always a good mental exercise….

Ieyasu does find out eventually, but that’s simply because you purposely drag him out to the garden where you’ve hung the painted scene on a branch to allow it to dry.

He just sort of stands there surprised, before averting his gaze.

“This is what you’ve been doing the entire time?”

You don’t blame him for the blunt question since you rushed off to the location at any given time to continue the painting, pretty much neglecting anything but your sleep, chores and-

Honestly, being that tsundere-contrarian he is, he flicks you on the forehead while muttering a quiet “It’s good” with averted eyes.

You honestly should never have grinned that widely at his words, bc now he’s walking off while blushing… and taking the painting with him :3

Kenshin:

You know better than to go behind Kenshin’s back. And by that, you mean “Oh-god-he’s-etherally-beautiful-but-also-a-yandere-so-I-must-gain-permission-to-paint-him-otherwise-he-might-kill-me-help”.

But honestly, it takes you awhile, simply because you’re not sure how to approach him- He’s always given you that sensation of “don’t-touch-me” xD

If it weren’t for Sasuke, who you had known for years, given you went to the same university and assisted him with some artist renditions of the night sky, you honestly would never have had the courage.

The question comes off as awkward. Very much so, since you had been, well, stalking him for days on end before he calls you out and you reply to him, nervously stuttering in response.

Kenshin doesn’t disagree with your request, however, choosing to just call for you whenever he suddenly feels bored.

It’s honestly chaotic and stressful, since he keeps changing position every few minutes…. ^-^’’

In the end you enlist the help of Shingen, who was only willing to pose for you so he could stare at your expression~ xD

The rest of the time you spend painting is holed up in your room, which, by the way, confuses Kenshin since usually artists would force him to sit agonising hours of stillness just to capture his appearance.

So he goes looking for you.

It’s at a pretty ironic time too, considering you were just adding the finishing touches to the painting. Just some background colouring and details….

But Kenshin’s hovering over your shoulder and-

He compliments you with some VERY sugary words, while you’re wrapped up in his arms. Honestly it puts Shingen’s flirting to shame xD

You’re warm, but to be fair you’ve left him pretty much unattended for the past week thanks to your want to paint.

Just cross your fingers he never asks you how exactly you managed to accurately paint the position he, in the painting, sat in.

Shingen would most certainly die from spending hours with Kenshin’s princess and love of his life-

Tagging: @tsukiiiyo @unstoppablelinda @zavannahmj @nad-zeta @thesirenwashere @ikemenoliver @jiyuu-chan @nuttytani <3

#Ikemen Sengoku #My Writing #250+ Followers Celebration #Sorry for the wait everyone!#I'm back in business!#Watch out for a Cat!MC Ikevamp HC too :3

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fereldenturnip · 4 years ago

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But Don’t You Ever Let Me Go (2)

Primo Nizzuto/Majid Zamari Sugar Daddy Fic

Part 2/ ?

(Part 1)

[nsfw towards the end]

Majid spends most of his days trying his hand at an honorable job. 'Try' being the operative word. He's never had the head for dull drudge work, giving up his warehouse position in Utrecht before he ever got started. It's boring. Routine is shit-boring. He’s already burnt out on three separate jobs so far.

Currently, he’s an auto-repair mechanic trawling through motor oil and brake fluid. It’s exhausting and frustrating, sweating through his overalls and busting his fingers. He absolutely hates it when some rich-prick comes swaggering in, throwing the keys of some hot rod in his face like he’s a robot and not a person. Swallowing the all-consuming rage gets harder with each asshole.

These trust-fund babies always want the same thing, “Fix it by noon!” with not even thirty minutes to spare assessing what component they broke to make it sound like shit. Majid always manages to get the cars purring again, and he’s half-tempted to just steal one and ride off into the sunset like he used to. The dumb-struck look on Pastel Polo Shirt Paolo’s face when he returns to an empty shop is one of Majid’s fondest daydreams.

No. Instead he fixes the damn car, hands over the keys, and lets jock twits rev dust in his face.

To make matters worse, he goes home to a dank and miserable, overpriced flat above a busy deli. Unwinding is next to impossible when your floors reek of salami. At night, Majid listens to his neighbors pound away at each other. The luck of others only underscores his own nonexistent sex life. It’s been almost a year and he hasn’t gotten laid since his trysts with Tessa. Lying on his bed that doubles as a couch, Majid glares at the ceiling when the telltale thumping begins. There isn’t even a television to block out the noise or silence his depressing memories. Majid suffers the entire night, sometimes with half a stiffy that no amount of palming will relieve.

Just when Majid’s day (his week, his month, his life) spirals out of control and he wants nothing more than to throw himself into the Tiber, Primo returns to whisk him away. Cheerful and unrepentantly persistent as expected.

It's as if the older man is psychic--either that or he actually does have informants all over the city. He rolls up in a sleek Mercedes, his driver popping out to open the door obediently. From the dark interior Primo’s elegant hand uncurls, beckoning him forth. Into the lion’s den.

And every time, Majid lets himself be coddled into the back seat. If this is a dance then he’s clearly not the lead. Does he mind? Glancing back at the auto shop, he’s hard-pressed finding a reason to say no.

Majid sinks into the warm leather seats and only mildly feels self-conscious as he clashes with his luxurious surroundings. Primo never disparages his workman’s clothes or the grease in his cuticles. He passes Majid an ice-cold water from the built-in fridge, unperturbed by the possibility of soiling his fine outfit. It’s just the opposite--Primo is ecstatic to be in Majid’s company again and again.

They’re chauffeured around, chatting and laughing amiably (and wow, Majid never believed he’d laugh again, not after what he’s been through), searching for a meal befitting the hour. Fancy, decadent, expensive. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes a combination of several depending on Primo’s schedule. And that’s a loose term.

Of course, there are events and fundraisers, meetings and phone calls Primo must attend to. Primo also owns half of Italy. The rules he operates by are malleable to suit his whimsy and if he wants to play hookie with Majid, there’s no one around to tell him no.

No one can stop Primo, not even the devil himself. It’s unwise, every time Majid hops in Primo’s car and feels his stomach automatically growl rather than churn. Who is Majid, a deadbeat thief with anger issues, to the Don of Calabria? One wrong move, one dumb mistake, and Primo can have him sleeping in the Tiber with whomever else is lying there too.

++++

“Ach,” Primo grimaces, “The Netherlands? I could never go there. It’s too cold!” He laughs though, warm and toothy, pouring more sparkling water into their glasses. The Mercedes makes another loop around the Colosseum, the tinted windows colouring the ancient stone in shades of blue and grey. The driver is a consummate professional, the ride is smooth and untroubled. Nevertheless, Primo curls in towards Majid to keep the drinks from spilling.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Majid smiles and clinks the crystal together. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t born there.”

Primo makes a noise of interest and gestures for him to continue. It would be so easy to forget who this man really is. Primo slouches comfortably in Majid’s presence, his blazer and tie removed, collar unbuttoned to reveal skin. He’s human underneath. It relaxes Majid enough to spill details of his childhood spent in the Moroccan sun. To his credit, Primo listens attentively, chin in hand as he rests on the centre console.

Unsurprisingly, Majid’s nostalgic and full of homesickness by the time he finishes detailing his family’s migration.

“Thank you for telling me,” Primo nods his head seriously, as if Majid’s words are an important gift worth all the gravitas in the world. Stunned, Majid actually believes he’ll cherish them.

“What about you?” Quid pro quo, right? Intimacy for intimacy.

Primo tilts his head and peers coyly at him through his eyelashes, “What about me?”

Majid is curious. Living in Rome is like living in a soap opera; Majid has heard a wide gamut of rumors, from the comedic to the tragic.

Some say Primo assassinated his uncle to do it, hid in the trunk of a car under the cloak of darkness and blew the old man’s brains out. Others scoff, they’re quick to point out how his uncle was nothing more than a destitute goat farmer and what could killing him possibly achieve? No, clearly Primo kidnapped some millionaire’s kid, burnt him alive on the beach and ran away with the ransom money.

When Majid asks, which is it? Primo smiles and weaves a story about a young man whose ideas were just too big for his small town to contain. How he longed for more until finally the Italian government benevolently loaned the young entrepreneur enough money to build his empire from the ground up. It sounds realistic. It’s also just another story and Majid is no where closer to the truth than he was before.

He huffs, unsatisfied.

Sitting on Primo’s left, Majid is close enough to feel the heat rolling off him and smell his musky cologne. Primo turns suddenly and that’s when Majid realises he’s drifted too close into the other man’s orbit. He can spot gold flecks in Primo’s irises, faint laugh lines on his cheeks, and sun-induced freckles over his nose.

Majid freezes like a deer caught in a rifle’s scope. A finger grazes his knuckles and he shivers from the soft touch. Primo’s desire is spelled out loud and clear, yet he makes no move to act on his impulses.

The car rolls up to the curb outside his flat. The parking brake shifts and whatever’s going on in this moment between them dissipates. Majid darts away, totally missing the narrowed eyes and minute smirk.

Primo, courteous as usual, professes, “I enjoyed spending my afternoon with you, Majid.”

Majid’s hand clasps the door handle--passerbys must think it strange seeing such an elegant car in this seedy neighborhood. Already halfway outside, Majid isn’t thinking clearly when he replies, “Me too.” Immediately, Primo preens. He could shudder from the liquid warmth swimming in Primo’s alluring gaze.

“Just tell me one thing,” Majid says, plucking the courage to stay a minute longer. “What’s the truth?” For a moment he thinks he’s confused the older man, either that or inserted his foot into his mouth.

But Primo’s mind is sharp, always several moves ahead. He knows exactly what Majid means.

“It was all that and more.”

That’s…not an answer. It’s grandiose and enigmatic (vague and frustrating) and perfectly sums Primo up. The bastard knows this and has the audacity to grin while he shooing Majid out.

“Until next time,” Primo asserts, stroking his greying goatee. He finishes with a soft declaration, “my boy.”

++++

The long-anticipated ‘other shoe’ drops while Majid is standing alone in his barren kitchenette and wistfully wishing he’d accepted Primo’s invitation to dinner. It’s a devastating epiphany, a slip-up he catches way too late. He finally sees the intricate spider’s web the Don has woven, and Majid went and entangled himself in lines, enticed with food and stories. Primo has done a good job sinking his claws into Majid without him even questioning it.

Midnight arrives. Rest doesn’t.

Majid rolls around in his bedsheets, unable to catch a break from the set of green eyes plaguing his erratic thoughts. Sleep is just right around the corner waving at him, Majid can almost taste it. His eyelids droop and that’s exactly when the horny couple’s headboard begins it’s nightly clacking ritual. Majid screams his anguish into his pillow. Of course! He’s fate’s favourite punching bag!

As usual, his cock weakly hardens--Pavlov to the rutting behind thin walls. Pathetically, he rubs his face and sniffs. Then sniffs again, deeper this time.

Somehow, spending hours with the Don has Primo’s aromatic cologne--notes of amber, tobacco, and rum--clinging to his skin and clothes. Majid considers showering himself clean. It would be the responsible thing to do, right? His cock twitches.

Wrong.

Majid wants to be irresponsible, rash, foolhardy. Recklessness conjures up a low-lit room filled with cigar smoke. Impulsiveness takes shape in the form of Primo Nizzuto stalking him from across the room, eyes steel-grey as he looms and strokes up Majid’s arm.

“My boy,” Primo growls in a low octave that sparks a flame in Majid’s guts. Heat pools in his hips and straight away he’s tugging his aching erection out of his briefs. His white cotton t-shirt gets rucked up and over his nose so Majid can inhale lungfuls of that intoxicating scent. The neighbors’ mediocre fucking gives way to Primo rasping in his ear--my boy, my boy--sultry as smoke curling around his head. Majid moans, touching himself with both hands, one twisting his throbbing wet head and the other cupping his balls. He frantically strips his length, feet planted wide and flat so he can hump into his fists. My boy...

When he comes, Majid nearly chokes on the shirt wadded in his mouth. His orgasm rips through him like a runaway train flying off the tracks. Globs of sticky come coat his hands, his abs, his shaking thighs. Everything’s a soaking mess. Shirt digging into his armpits and underwear around his ankles, Majid really ought to clean up. Unfortunately, his exhausted, empty body is too busy floating high from the rush of endorphins.

It’s so damn easy to slip into sleep after that.

#my fic #trust fx #wolf 2013 #Trust the Wolf #primo x majid #primo nizzuto #majid zamari #But don't you ever let me go

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