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wreckmetoji · 3 years ago

Text

idfc

An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.

↳ Megumi Fushiguro/Reader

Part 8/?

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7

content warning. afab reader, fingering, unprotected sex, profanity, shameless smut, angst, minor fluff, megumi down bad, will i ever stop hurting megumi? no

This is part eight of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**

2.0k words

In this moment, and in this time, you felt loved. You felt needed. You felt respected. And you knew that come morning time, you'd probably regret that too. A man's resolve is only as strong as his will, and with the way you pushed your ass back against Megumi, you could tell the foundation of his resolve was crumbling fast. Especially with the way he would whisper your name, with the way his hand came up to your hip and stroked your curves, the way the arm under your head nudged you to look back and kiss him. You don't know how long the two of you had been laying there, completely restless, but unwilling to say anything to break the silence. Neither of you dared look at the clock, not wanting to know if it had been minutes or hours spent in silent sexual tension, but you had a feeling it was the latter. Megumi would whisper small protests of we shouldn't, get some sleep, you don't want this, but he never stopped kissing you back, never stopped touching you back, never stopped rocking his hips into you. The way you gripped his hair and dug your fingers into his scalp was the final nail in your coffin. "Turn around," Megumi whispered against your lips, hardly giving you time to process his request before tugging your hip, turning you to face him. "You don't know what you do to me..." A part of you did, and used it to your advantage. Throwing a leg over his hip, you brought the other up between his legs and brushed against his now fully hard erection. He was back on your kiss-bruised lips within seconds, tongue lavishing your own in an intricate dance. His strong hand gripped your thigh, a hiss passing through now clenched teeth when you gave a particularly rough grind of your knee, feeling him curl his hips to meet you halfway. The way he was looking at you had your breath catching in your throat, a shiver wracking your body. There was nothing but love and adoration in his eyes, his hand coming underneath your head to cradle the side of your neck. "I promised myself," Megumi exhaled, pushing his top half off the mattress and hovered over your stilled body, "That if you gave me another chance, I'd do it right this time." Silence hung in the air, only both of your labored breathing and his words ringing in your ears, heavily weighing on your conscience. His thumb brushed your cheek, dipping his head to kiss you once, twice, three times, as he shifted until his lean form hovered over you. Nobara was wrong, you thought as he caressed your sides, slowly pushing his hands up your loose shirt. He didn't have a thing for you. Undoubtedly, without question, he was in love with you. The thought scared you more than you'd like to admit. "Megumi," You whispered against his lips, swallowing thickly when his hand stopped just as his knuckles grazed the soft flesh of your breast. He opened his eyes, long lashes brushing up against your cheeks as he stared at you through a half mast gaze. "I trust you." The faintest of smiles graced his lips, before pressing them up against your plush kiss-bruised ones. He was meticulous, thorough, like he was mapping out your body with his hands, memorizing every dip, curve, and mark. He kissed you like you were the last thing he'd ever taste, and it makes you think this is probably the most careful anyone has treated you in bed. Megumi was much more diligent, his fingers grazing then gently rolling your nipples, brow scrunching when you moaned into him, as if he was burning it into his memory. "Again." He shuddered, breath fanning against your face. You were going to ask what, but you were interrupted by another shameless, high pitch moan, relishing the gentle pinch and roll of his fingers. You'd nearly been too distracted to hear him groan, nearly too distracted to feel the rut of his cock against the inside of your thigh. "Take these off," You demanded, hand reaching down to give a firm, long stroke to his girth through his pants. One hand was quick to shoot down to your wrist, gripping it firmly as he shuddered out a breath. "Don't..." "Wha–," Oh. Oh. Megumi was quick to shuffle his pajama bottoms down, kicking them from his feet, his throbbing cock red and twitching. You swallowed, watching the slow drip of precum down his shaft. He was painfully hard. Guess big dicks run in the family. He noticed you gawking, pink crawling up his neck and dusting the tips of his ears. "I told you, you don't know what you do to me." Deft fingers pulled at the stretched out hemline of your shirt, his shirt, meekly reminding you that you were still completely clothed, unexposed. You pulled it over your head, throwing it to the side, working on sliding your shorts down your legs. God, you heard him whisper, your lips pressed in a nervous thin line, eyes glued to the material of your bottoms as you tossed them across the room. By the time you looked back, he'd removed his shirt as well, and your eyes locked with his. It seems the weight of your situation had finally settled, watching the bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed, as he slowly crawled over you again, as his hand came up to caress the soft flesh of your inner thigh. His fingers brushed by your core, azure eyes flicking down at the slick already soaking you, then back to lock gazes. You thought you could see his breath hitch, see his cock twitch, but you didn't dare look down again. When Megumi ghosted the pad of his thumb over your clit, you whined, eyes sliding half shut. He seemed hesitant, guilty, but the way he slid his middle and ring finger into your heat made you think otherwise. "Fuck, you're so wet." His fingers moved slowly, painfully slowly. A hand reached under you, settling the flat of his palm against the dip of your lower back, leaning on his forearm for support. "Gumi, please–" You keened, closing your eyes and arching your back when he rubbed just the right spot. "Please what, princess?" The pet name made your chest grow tight. You could tell he noticed when his fingers stopped moving, opening your eyes to see him searching your expression for anything. The warmth of his hand was burning compared to the cool wetness sticking to your thighs. "Do you want to stop?" He was so attentive. "No, I just–" You breathed, smiling at him. "I want to keep going. It would be mean to leave you like this, anyways." Of course you were only joking, trying to distracted yourself, but the way he whispered your name made your smile drop and your stomach do flips. "I don't fucking care," Megumi leaned down, stopping just short of your lips. "I just want you to want this." No words you could say were convincing enough. Instead, you opted to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, craning your neck to kiss him. The low moan he emitted got swallowed up by you, and you had to stop your own noises when his cock slid between the two of you, gathering slick up the underside of his shaft. Effortlessly, Megumi succumbed to your embrace, hips rocking back and forth, back and forth, harder, longer. "Condom," He breathed out, seemingly reminding himself more than you. "Do you ha–aah, fuck." Megumi nearly buckled when you arched your hips, his tip catching in your warmth, pushing him in just a bit. He couldn't help but give a shallow thrust, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth when he pulled back out. A strong hand kept your hip pinned to the bed with how insistent you were. "No– wanna feel you." It was almost shameful how fast he folded. With a whine, you rolled your hips up, impatient with how slowly he was sinking into you. You were sure it was more for himself than for your sake if his quaking arms spoke truth for him. His forehead came down to your shoulder, unruly black hair tickling your jawline once his hips were flush against yours. He gave a tentative thrust, breath warm against your skin when you moaned and squeezed around him. It didn't take him long to find a sweet, satisfying rhythm. The careful sway of his hips, the gentle caress of his hand on your waist, the warm palm against your back, had you breathless and melting into him. Every patch of skin he palmed, squeezed, stroked, felt like it was on fire, tingling in the aftermath. Your combined noises were quiet, reminiscent of when you were a teenager afraid of getting caught, like it was something forbidden, something to be kept secret. Warm hands came down to your thighs, pulling you up and against him, his legs folded beneath him. Your legs tightened around his waist, your arms around his neck, as he pulled your hips down in time with his upwards movements. The new change of position had you throwing your head back, mouth agape, nails digging into whatever skin they could find. The new position had the head of his cock repeatedly abusing just the right spot, just the right force, just the right speed, it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. Managing to get some of your wits back, your head lulled to the side, gazing down at him stupidly. Anyone with eyes could tell you Megumi Fushiguro was an attractive person, even you could admit that. You had always been so blinded by the fact you were so close in different ways to really appreciate him. The way his brows knit together, the slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his eyes were unmoving, completely locked onto you like you were his personal messiah, a figment of his imagination bound to disappear any second. His voice sounded smooth as velvet when he breathed your name. "You're everything to me," Megumi clenched his jaw, thrusts becoming harder, erratic, pleading. "I care about you so much." You weren't sure if it was his gentle words or the roll of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit, but the heat rising up and spilling over was as intense as it was imminent. Too absorbed in your toe curling orgasm, you were unable to register how loud you called out to him, unable to hear him frantically say shit– I'm cumming. You were shocked at the strength behind him when he lifted you off of him with one arm, his other hand coming down to stroke out his release in thick pumps, hips jerking as he spilled thick seed against your stomach, chest, and onto himself. Legs shaking, breath mingling, you gazed down at the mess sticking to you both, then looking up to his face. He was panting, brows furrowed, his eyes focused so intently on something below your waistline. You didn't have time to look before he gently laid you down, scooting off the bed and muttering something along the lines of getting a towel. Glancing down at yourself, you wondered what he could've been looking so worriedly at. Your mouth went dry when you saw the deep red and purple bruise forming a line across your pelvis, the countertop at the restaurant. Megumi was wiping himself down with the dampened towel as he walked in, quickly taking care of the quickly cooling wetness on your stomach, chest, and thighs after he laid down. His touch was a little more gentle, a little more hesitant around the bruise. He didn't say anything. You laid in silence, swallowing after he place the towel on your side table and laid down beside you. There, you laid in the positions you'd taken at the start of the night, an unbreakable, tense silence hanging over your heads. Part of you thought you should say something, anything to ease his silent concern... but what could you say? So instead, you curled up to him, his arm wrapped protectively around you, your eyes closing and welcoming the much needed sleep. You didn't see the way he clenched his jaw, the way he stared at the ceiling, or the unadulterated sadness swimming in his dark azure eyes.

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#megumi x you #megumi fushiguro #megumi jjk #megumi fushiguro jjk #megumi smut #megumi x reader smut #megumi x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #anime smut #anime x reader #minors do not interact

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ssplague · 3 years ago

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Chapter Two

A rough start we get off too

Series Masterlist

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

⚠️Warnings: SMUT, improper use/depiction of certain kinks, abusive, manipulative, toxic behavior, unreal ideals of sex, use of daddy, ddlg themes, hard Dom, etc.

Let the SMUT commence

The way each pair of lips fit so perfectly together was absolutely enthralling: Passion was raw, ferocity was made so obviously evident from the growl he emitted at each attempt you made at sucking his tounge into your mouth. Only separating to take in a few large gulps of much needed oxygen, before diving back in to repeat the process over again.

“Please….P-Pleaseee…Kat..Suki…I-“ he presses a finger to your lips. That brief period of oxygen deprivation seemed to of induced a delirium of sorts. Assessing your thoughts has become similar to sifting through wet sand; Try as you might, you just can’t seem to comprehend what exactly you’d been attempting to beg him for in the first place. This look of empty headed confusion is also something Bakugou commits to memory, a first glimpse of his dumb little girl. He surveys you with bemused interest, looking as composed as ever.

“Down that bad for me hah? All I did was kiss ya a little and you’re already falling to pieces on me” the finger on your lips slides down to tilt your chin up, while he dips his head down to whisper in your ear. “Cant even imagine what kinda mess you’ll become once I finally split cha open with this big cock, such a stupid little girl”.

You suck in a deep shuddering breath as your legs suddenly give out beneath you, leaving you helplessly sliding down the wall. Bakugou laughs in such a condescending baritone as he effortlessly picks you up and deposits you on his bed. Picking his chair back up, he moves it beside the bed to take a seat in front of you.

“Listen real close to what I’m about to tell ya cause its important, open those fuckin’ ears princess cause if I end up havin’ to constantly keep repeatin’ myself…” he leaves the implicated threat hanging in the air between you two. Swallowing what remains of your now virtually non existent pride: You sit up straight and lean forward slightly, making sure to hold eye contact while he spoke. As the one sided conversation progresses and you inevitably begin to feel the need to either scoff or mouth off, you lightly bite your tounge. When the need to roll your eyes seems irresistible you make sure to blink a few times.

Bakugou and his ego always seem to have a way of destroying any sort of illusion that he is anything other than a self-righteous narcissist. Well, now he’s YOUR self-righteous narcissist…CORRECTION; You cant think like that anymore….from now on he’s….daddy.

The thought accompanies a brief pang in your metaphorical gut, is it regret? Maybe guilt? You aren’t sure.

“-Last ones, your still paying attention right princess?”.

Hearing his question has your eyes immediately snapping back into focus. You take in the handsome (but grumpy) face in front of you, nervously wondering when exactly he’d invaded your personal space.

“Y-Yes daddy, I’m listening to you” you stutter slightly, now noticing he’s actually kneeling on the mattress with you.

“So every day I expect you to do your absolute best” now with each statement he leans further into you, “You’re always going to remember how much daddy cares about you”. He presses a large hand against your chest, forcing your back down against the pillows behind you. “Realize that daddy always knows what’s best for you” both hands now rest on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

“You’ll always know that you can rely on daddy, and will trust him one hundred percent of the time”.

The intensity of his crimson stare has your face burning up, and heart rapidly pounding in your chest. It’s now taking a serious amount of conscious effort to keep your eyes locked with his. “Any questions? Comments?…..concerns?” he puts an emphasis on that last word, wolffish grin firmly in place.

Shaking your head apparently wasn’t a good enough answer because its followed with a stern; “Use your words princess, you either say: Yes daddy or No daddy….understood?”.

“I understand daddy….I’ll follow your rules daddy” you reply, embarrassment evident at having to repeat the unfamiliar word.

“You sure? It’s not like you to have absolutely nothing to say” he’s testing you, you’ll play into it this time.

“Well if you insist…..I do have a question, just one” at this his eyes instantly narrow and you could have sworn you’d seen a few stray sparks emit from his palms.

“Would it be too much to ask daddy if he wouldn’t mind kissing me again?”

🌆

Euphie checks her phone for the eigth time since she’d last texted you over forty-five minutes ago. Why weren’t you responding? Maybe she really had pushed you too far this time….A large hand comes to rest over her much smaller one, at this she finally sets her phone facedown on the table with a sigh.

“She wont stay angry with you forever, her and Bakubro might be having such a good time together that she’s forgotten all about her phone” Kirishima tries his best to reassure with his usual smile. The sudden wide eyed, dead pan stare he gets in return whipes that smile from his now reddening face. He’s realized far too late at what his words seem to of implied.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Really! I promise I didn’t! M’sorry”. Seeing the red head this flustered is so adorable, his companion cant help but giggle.

“I know Eji, dont worry about it”.

Entrusting your care to Bakugou was fine: He cares about you almost as much as she herself does. If she wasn’t certain how genuine the boy’s feelings toward you were, none of this would ever have happened.

Yeah, everything is going to be just fine….You’ll thank her one day.

💥

Bakugou’s crimson gaze is way too intense while roaming over the female laying down on his bed. Having her completely bare, and spread out before him is an accomplishment he shamelessly contragulates himself for. She’s getting self conscious now: Delicate hands come up to cover her chest, and plush thighs press together in an attempt to hide the drooling mess kept between them. It’s all or naught though as her legs are suddenly wrenched apart, and each wrist is now pinned above her head, held in just a single one of his hands.

“Nu-uh princess, no hiding….keep those legs open…wanna see all of you” condescending words only seem to widen his feral grin.

Seeing his cock now freed from its previously strained confinements as its looms above you, standing tall, has your leaky little hole twitching. The smooth inner walls inside repeatedly clenching in anticipation. Bakugou trails a finger from clit to slit as he hums in approval.

“What’s this hah? Such a fuckin’ mess your makin’ down here”

“S-Sorry daddy…I cant help it…Just want you so bad…dont wanna wait any longer…Please dont make me wait more” a soft roll of your hips accompanies your pleading whines. Your continuous begging for his cock has that monster stirring in him again, he has to forcibly push the dark thoughts away before addressing you again.

“If I dont prep you then-“ you interrupt him.

“It’s fine! I can take it, please just take me…” he notices your moment of hesitation before you lock eyes with him while adding “make it hurt”.

You’re just so fucking bold!

Trying to make demands, disguised as requests! Its so cute he cant help but caress your cheek before bestowing upon you the last gentle kiss you’ll get until he’s throughly DESTROYED you for anyone else.

“Dont ever fucking tell me what to do again” he growls before slamming his hips forward.

He’s buried balls deep inside you: Your initial gasp at the sudden intrusion, now morphs into a silent scream that has a you arching up off the mattress.

“Got that you greedy little slut? See what happens?” He taunts through gritted teeth.

Your cunt squeezing and spasming around his cock feels incredible, to the point he has to busy himself with sucking harshly on your neck to keep from releasing desperate whimpers of his own.

“I can take it…please move….m’sorry daddy…please don’ be mad a’me….”

“M’not mad at you baby….s’okay” He manages to reassure you through his clenched jaw. He finally starts to move inside of you, desperately trying so hard to take it easy on you. All precedent falls apart when your legs wrap around his waist, now he’s digging you out.

“Y’okay?” He rasps while continuously ravaging your tight cunt.

“M-mm-more than okay” you stutter.

“Taking my cock so well baby girl….Fucking hell!” His lewd compliment causing your insides to involuntarily clench.

“Deeper! Deeper!” You plead.

Katsuki thought you’d preferred his shallow thrusts, but if you really wanted your guts rearranged he’d be pleased to make it happen. He grabs one of your legs, placing it up on his broad shoulder, while the other remains curled around his hip. Straightening up he smirks down at you, before delivering a harsh slap to your clit. Now beginning to rapidly piston his hips while taunting you: “What did I tell you earlier hah? Answer me dammit!”.

His hot hand comes down on your inner thigh and you cry out: “N-Not supposed t-to tell y-you what to d-do!”. It shouldn’t be possible for you to be squeezing him even tighter, but somehow you do. That can mean only one thing… “Gonna cum aren’t you princess? I can feel ya choking the life outta my cock”.

A pathetic whine accompanies your vigorous head nods and he growls in response: “You.better.fucking.not” a thrust accompanying each word, “Y’dont fuckin’ listen, shouldn’t let ya cum at all with how you keep misbehavin’, better start fuckin’ beggin”.

Horrified at the thought, you fight through the fog permeating your brain and force movement out of your lolling tounge.

“P-please daddy, I’ll b-be good from now on if y-you’ll just let me c-cum! Y-you’re just making me feel so good daddy, no one’s ever made me feel this i-incredible before” your panting breaths making it too difficult to continue speaking. Even if he doesn’t believe it, your words are entirely true, this is the first time you can ever recall feeling like this during sex. A foreign sensation is making its way into your gut, your limbs are moving of their own accord, you cant think straight when you manage to speak next: “Its too much! Too big, Too deep, Too intense! I c-cant take anymore please make it stop!”.

“Stop? Oh fuck no princess, after all this lip you’ve been giving me, you think I’m gonna let you tap out like a little bitch? Think again” his thumb begins to rub harsh circles against your clit. “We’re not stopping until you cream all over my cock like a nasty girl like you is supposed to, then you’re gonna do it again when I blow my load inside this tight fucking cunt and you’ll scream my name while I fucking do it because this pussy is all mine! Got all that you fucking whore?”.

“Yes daddy” you whimper, face screwed up in tight concentration as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your eyes fly open as you blindly search for his hand, gripping it tightly in attempts to anchor yourself in reality as a sudden rush of dopamine floods your brain. White hot pleasure seemingly overwhelming every single nerve in your body, making your legs shiver as you faintly hear yourself calling out his name repeatedly. Katsuki is the only thing you know in this strange foreign place: This comforting warmth suddenly invades your tummy, continuously being pumped inside you while you moan at the newfound sensation.

A pair of strong arms wind themselves around you, pulling you closer, making you feel safe, at ease, loved?

“Come…back…..come back to me” he’s calling for you. Your soul had to of vacated your body; You feel Weightless, you’re floating, “Daddy?”. Suddenly you start sinking, and without warning your body jolts, “Katsuki?!”.

“M’right here princess, daddy’s got you….Disappeared on me for a lil while” his familiar voice is grounding. His fingers card gently through your hair, and for the very first time you’re seeing a “Soft” side to this so easily angered man. Sighing contentedly you snuggle into his chest, letting his caramel scented sweat overwhelm your senses.

“I really like this”

“Hah?! That’s all you have to say?!”

Ah there he goes, moment ruined, illusion shattered.

“I’m sorry. But I’m not entirely coherent just yet…you uh…you kinda did a number on me there” you mutter sheepishly, making an attempt to escape his embrace. Its immediately thwarted, and your pulled right back against his chest. “Ah fuck…knew I shoulda just made you wait and prepped you properly….Sorry about that, guess I just got caught up in everything”. Surely hell has frozen over: Katsuki Bakugou just not only admitted a possible wrong doing, but APOLGIZED for it as well!

“Ive wanted to do this with you for so long: Fuck you, hold you, be with you, and I fucked it up! Just like I always seem to fucking do, I-“

“Daddy” your voice effectively silences his self-depreciating rant. His hand begins to gently run up and down your back as he mumbles a “Yes princess?”.

You lean back slightly, tilting your head up so those cute doe eyes can stare up into his, the smile your wearing makes his chest tighten.

“M’not hurt, sore but not damaged….I wasn’t referring to my body, I meant you did a number on my mind…Besides I asked for it remember? I’ve wanted this for a long time too, so I got impatient…Please dont berate yourself, lets just enjoy this moment as the first of many now…Kay?”.

That’s right, you’re his now; Along with the opportunity to care for and make sure to correct you…he’ll be able to do this with you again. You had given yourself to him after all, so he can have you as many times as he wants, whenever he wants! He’s far too occupied with his lewd thoughts to care about the foreboding darkness thats begun to emerge from its confines within his skull.

You don’t remember falling asleep but Katsuki gently prods you awake: “Baby…wake up, Its dinner time…I made food for us…c’mon princess you need to eat”.

You whine, attempting to burrow further beneath the blankets, “Not hungryyyy...wanna sleep more!”.

“Dont make daddy ask you again, you wont like what happens”.

Not interested in ruining such a wonderful night, you begrudgingly sit up. Noticing he’s seated at his desk, with a large steaming bowl set infront of him. You slide out of bed, standing up and realizing you’re naked, but strangely not embarrassed by it.

“Here” he tosses you a shirt, “Now c’mere, hurry up before it gets cold!”. Pulling his shirt over your head as you pad over to him and take a seat on his lap. Noticing the single spoon and bowl has you looking at him with genuine curiosity. “Since you like actin like a damn baby so much, figured I’d continue treatin’ you like one” his words make you grin sheepishly again, and you hold out your hand expectantly waiting for him to hand you the spoon….he doesn’t.

Taking an impressive spoonful of the steaming food he then proceeds to blow on it before bringing it up to your lips.

“Say ahh, brat”.

“Wha-?”

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he shoves the spoon into your open mouth. Of course it tastes amazing, but he doesn’t plan on keeping this up right? WRONG!

Repeating the pattern of giving you a bite and then taking one himself.

“I can feed myself y’know…” you mutter growing increasingly flustered at the insulting action but more so the fact that its making you feel….excited?

“I dont think you can princess….I always hear Euphie bitchin at ya for skipping breakfast or to hurry up and come eat dinner” pausing to feed himself, then repositioning the now loaded spoon back infront of you before continuing.

“That shit ends today, gonna teach ya how important it is to take care of yourself, and if you wont? Then I guess daddy will have to do it for ya”.

You’re squirming in his lap by the time you accept the last bite,swallowing thickly before making an attempt at vaulting off his lap. Large hands immediately snag you around the middle before your feet even touch the ground.

“No, No, thats not how we do things around here, where the fuck are your manners?” he slips a hand between your clenched thighs to move them apart, and then brings a slap down to the inside of each. You dont even know why he’d done that and the shock is evident on your face. “You like when I baby ya, dont lie to me LITTLE girl”.

“No I-“

“What’s this then?” he quickly interupts while holding up the palm he’d previously slapped you with. Glimmering in the low light is your sticky arousal coating his palm.

“Sorry” your voice is barely audible as you hang your head in shame.

“Mhm sure you are…Here I am being a good care taker to you and what did you do? Sat there thinking all kinds of nasty things while I spoon feed you, you really are a fuckin depraved slut aren’t you princess?”

You bite your lip as your eyes start to water,still refusing to look up and far too embarrassed to respond. A finger beneath your chin forces your head up and his breath hitches when he notices tears getting ready to fall. A malicious smile now turns his lips upward as he cups your cheek, “Look at that…shes about to start crying and all because of what? Cuz you just exposed yourself for being the depraved little slut you are?”.

“NO! No im not I-“.

“You are” his grip tightens painfully on your jaw, pulling your face forward so its now just an inch away from his own, “And I fuckin’ love it”. Then he’s surging forward pressing his lips against yours; Forcing his tongue into your mouth, hand coming around to grip the back of your head. Your lungs are on fire while his hand slips under your shirt to harshly grope at your chest. Clawing his forearms is finally enough to get his attention and he reluctantly pulls away. You’ve just barely began catching your breath when he suddenly stands up, keeping a firm grip on your ass to carry you, before dropping you onto the bed.

“Take that off and-“

*knock knock knock*

The sudden knocking followed abruptly by Kirishima’s muffled shouting, startles both you and Katsuki, and the rattling door knob has you immediately springing into action.

“Hey we brought back desert to share with you guys! So just meet us at my room whenever you feel like it, Euphie’s changing her clothes and then she’ll be there too, we’re gonna watch a movie if you two wanna join us!”.

He must have heard Bakugou’s standard non-committal grunt in response, because you hear his retreating footsteps trail off down the hall.

Grabbing your skirt out from underneath the bed, you stand back up.

Just as you’d gotten to your feet your immediately pushed face first onto the mattress. A sweaty hand takes hold of your hip in a bruising grip, while the other delivers a sharp pinch to your ass cheek. Yelping in response to the sudden harsh yank of your hair that proceeds a whisper of:

“You didn’t really think I would let you off that easy did you? Your fuckin’ cake can wait brat, we’re done when I fuckin say we are, got it?”.

✨

A/N: I hope this chapter was to everyone’s liking, I’m actually kind of nervous to post it but 🤷🏼‍♀️ Chapter 3 has a fair amount of smut in it as well so look forward to that. I’m hoping to get another one shot up for “A man of his word” this week, if you like extreme Yandere Bakugou check that out. I have one penned but it needs to be typed up.

#bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #daddy bakugou #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo #Katsuki bakugou #dom bakugou

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hwangsies · 4 years ago

Text

[7:59 pm]

jeno lee x reader (smut)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a fight, shower sex, fingering, hair pulling & a little restraining, a little degrading & praise ofc to balance it out lol, they are in very much love ew

1.6 k words,

enjoy <3

You sit on the couch, scrolling through social media as the door to your apartment opens.

Looking over, you see a sweaty jeno step into the room. He just finished dance practice and is wearing black sweats and a grey shirt which perfectly fits his toned body.

Your face brightens when you see him, smiling as you walk over to greet him.

“hi baby” he says while slipping out of his shoes.

“hi handsome, you’re late” you joke and kiss him once he’s done, your smile fades when you see his facial expression.

Mad isn’t the right word, he looks more sad and kind of angry at the same time, so you know something is bothering him.

“you look beautiful” he says, smiling softly. Your hair is curled and your makeup is done, you were waiting for him to get home because tonight was date night.

“you look sad, what’s wrong?” you run your hand down from the back of his neck to his chest.

“nothing baby, let me just shower real quick and then we can go, yea?” he pecks your cheek and disappears into the bathroom, without letting you answer him.

You stand around for a minute or two, thinking what could have happened in the few hours you weren’t together; and how you could approach it since jeno has a habit of not communicating his feelings properly (of course he does, he’s a taurus).

However you do feel sorry for him and don’t want him having to sit through an entire dinner while his head is somewhere else.

You slowly open the bathroom door, the big glass in front of your shower is fogged up and you can only make out his silhouette. His hands running through his hair as you start to strip from your nice clothes.

When a soft sigh halls through the room, you know he’s crying, whether it be out of sadness or frustration.

He doesn’t hear you coming into the floor integrated shower and flinches as you rest your head on his broad back and connect your hands around his stomach in the front.

“what are you doing” he asks softly as he turns around, looking at you with his big brown eyes.

And your hunch is right, he had been crying, the white of his eyes being slightly boodhsot as he sniffles.

“im trying to comfort you” you mumble, looping your arms around his waist again “can you tell me what’s wrong now?” you ask softly, his big palms running down your back lovingly.

“I fought with haechannie, it was a stupid misunderstanding but I just wanted to get out of there quickly because of date night and I said stuff I just wish I hadn’t” he finally admits.

“im sorry about that baby” you pout, cupping his face in your hands “but he’ll forgive you if you apologize, you know that”

“yea i know” he sighs.

“how are you always right?” he cradles your face in his hands and wipes the smudged mascara under your eyes away with his thumbs.

You shrug playfully “it’s a gift” at which he huffs amusedly.

“Im sorry for this too” jeno whispers, moving his hands down to your waist.

“for what?” you ask confusedly.

“for making you ruin your pretty hair and makeup, and our special evening” he rests his forehead against yours, locking eyes.

“its okay, we can go to dinner some other day, I just want you to be happy when we go” you assure him.

At which he smiles warmly “so I can have all of your attention, of course” you add playfully, making him laugh.

He turns the both of you around, pressing you against the cold wall tiles, eliciting a small shriek from your lips.

Quickly, he uses that opportunity to press his lips to yours. Not long after his tongue prods at the seam of your lips.

As his tongue slides against your own, he grabs one of your thighs to hoist it up against his hipbone, holding you closer against him and moving the two of you out of the showers stream. One of your hands flies up to grab at his wet locks, tugging at it lightly, making him grunt into the kiss.

He moves his mouth to your neck, leaving a faint trail of love bites in his wake.

“jeno” you moan when he sucks at the soft skin just above your collarbone, his hands roughly trapping you in between his hot body and the cold tiles.

“baby” you feel your voice crack when the hand that isn’t holding up your thigh slips in between your legs.

His calloused fingers glide through your folds effortlessly due to how aroused you are.

One finger quickly turns into two as he pumps them into you at a quick but steady rhythm, his thumb rubbing at your clit.

“fuck-“ you cry out before he plants his mouth on yours again.

“you wanna cum now or on my cock?” jeno asks through gritted teeth, staring into your eyes as your hand curls around his flexing bicep, his fingers not slowing down.

“both” you whimper in a heartbeat.

He scoffs as a grin stretches over his face “greedy little slut” he whispers underneath your ear before sinking his teeth into the skin there.

“choose” he grunts, locking eyes with you again and stopping his fingers when he feels you furiously clenching down on them.

You whimper, a pout adorning your lips as you look up at him with those ‘dick sucking eyes’, which is how he likes to call them.

“on your cock” you whine when he tilts his head expectantly.

“that’s what I thought” he grins pulling out his fingers to deliver two gently smacks to your sensitive cunt.

He chuckles when you flinch and spins you around, you press you hands flat to the tiles as a wet smack lands on your right buttcheek.

After a few seconds of no skin contact you look behind you to see your boyfriend stroking himself as he looks you up and down.

“what are you doing” you whine, poking out your butt a little more, wiggling it for good measure.

“fuck” finally his hands are on you again, one of them holding your face so he can kiss your lips.

“I just love you” he confesses as he grinds his hard shaft against your butt “you’re so fucking perfect”

“I love you so much” you say back, at which another kiss is pressed to your swollen lips “please fuck me” you exhale, almost desperate.

“yes, fuck I will, love” he groans sucking at your earlobe as he runs the thick tip of his cock through your arousal.

“baby oh-“ your body surges forwards a little when jeno presses himself inside of you.

He shushes you gently, pressing kisses to your shoulder to distract you form the slightly stinging stretch you’re feeling.

“that’s it, love suck me in” he groans as he watches you take everything of him, sliding a hand up your back.

“good baby?” he checks, moving the hair from one side of your neck to press a kiss there.

“yes- move please” you moan when he complies to your wish.

You lean your head forward against the wall, scrunching your eyes together when your boyfriend hits your spot effortlessly.

His hand tangles in your hair before pulling your head back with it.

“ah” you reach back to scramble for something of him to grab onto when jeno grabs your hand with his free one to hold it against the small of your back.

“oh my- ‘m gonna cum” you cry out when he sucks a bruise onto your shoulder, his hips not missing a beat.

You can feel the warmth of your orgasm bubble up quickly, jenos thrusts starting to get sloppier as he is close too.

Him groaning your name and filthy things into your ear sends you over the edge, feeling your muscles tense up and release at the same time.

He lets go of your hand only for you to grab at the wall in front of you, your thighs quivering as you cum all over him.

“that’s it, love” he coaxes you through it, continuing to kiss your skin before you turn your head around to lock lips.

“cum in me” you whimper in overstimulation, surprised that you haven’t tipped over yet.

“fuck” he grunts, the grip on your hips not letting you fall as his thrust become shallow and he finds his high in you as well.

Your legs are shaky when he pulls out of you but he stabilizes you, pulling you I for a hug as he moves the both of you under the stream of the warm water again.

“we just wasted so much water” you mumble into his neck sleepily.

Jenos chest vibrates with laughter “is that what you were thinking about the entire time?” he asks rhetorically.

“of course” you grin as you lock eyes again.

He shakes his head playfully before turning off the water.

You shiver as you step out of the shower, he hands you a towel and wraps one around his waist before he leaves the room to get dressed.

A few minutes later, as you’re putting on moisturizer, jeno leans against the doorframe.

“what” you grin back at him through the mirror, he comes up behind you and lets his finger run over the purple marks he created on your neck.

“sorry about that” he smirks and kisses on of the spots.

“I’ll be fine” you joke and turn around to kiss him.

“hm- wanna order some food?” he hums before dropping another kiss to your lips.

You nod excitedly at which he smiles.

“I love you”

#it starts of a lil sad but it gets rly nasty ajshssk #oopsie i guess #or nah #nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno lee #jeno #jeno lee smut #nct dream jeno #nct dream x reader #nct dream hard hours #nct dream soft hours #jeno fluff #boyfriend!jeno #did i mention the end is sappy again? no? oops #anyways ik no one asked for thi sand it kinda sucked but idk i watched a boom fancam of him after a while and man this dude is shexy

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apossessionadaybreak · 4 years ago

Text

Family Bonding

I couldn’t stop grinning when I woke up today. Maybe it was the sun shining through the window, or the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen, or the strong, virile body I was wearing. I laughed, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of days since I hopped into this host but every moment spent in him was further proof that I had made the correct choice. It hadn’t been easy cornering him but week after week of playing the part of his coworker, slowly gaining his trust, had all finally led to this moment. I strutted around the room, a ridiculous one-man parade, a treat meant only for my eyes. I stood before the mirror and beheld my lovely form, feeling something begin to stir and strain against my briefs as I did so. Oh, did I feel good. But it was still early, there was plenty to do, places to be, and a lot more masquerading to do. I patted my member as it stiffened in its cloth prison. Perhaps, if I still remained unsatisfied at the end of the day.

I opened the door and walked into the rest of the house. Yes, yes, all of it lovely, all of it in order, all of it mine. I strode into the living room to see a young man having breakfast.

"Morning son," I called out in my strong voice. “Thanks for the coffee,” I boomed again as I helped myself to a fresh cup.

He nodded, hesitantly perhaps? I made a mental note of the way he looked at me today, and didn’t like what I saw. Uncertainty, unease. No that wouldn’t do at all. I resolved to be a better father as I walked up to where he sat.

“What are you doing on this fine Saturday?” I said, slapping him on the back as I did so. He winced, but gave a wan smile. “Grandpa’s coming over to pick me up, we’re going fishing.”

My jaw clenched but I continued smiling even as I felt a low, cold fury building up inside me. “He’s coming over?”

“Yeah, in fact, any minute now. Let me go get my stuff, I want to be ready to leave when he comes.” He grabbed his phone as he walked to his room, closing the door just a tad faster than normal. Something was not right. No, I thought darkly, nothing was right about this. A stern expression came over my face as I closed my eyes. Focus, I just needed some time to think, with this mind I could work out what I needed to do. I clenched my fists, and grit my teeth as I pondered. My father, my own father, the man who raised me, betraying me like this? How could he not tell me he was coming over? Sweat formed on my furrowed brow as I fumed, trying, failing to cool me off. I forced myself to breathe, to take my time. Certainly this was an affront to my senses but any one who saw me like this would think I had gone insane, becoming this worked up over nothing at all. But I had spent this long, worked this hard, only for that bumbling fool to come along and mess with things. I tried to console myself it would only be for an afternoon, no time at all really but inside my heart I knew I was lying to myself. I had become obsessed with this young man, this youth who was now my son. Having him listen to me, talk to me, look up to me, it was heaven. That had been another reason for taking this host, besides his obvious merits. How could I compete with the old man? He was my senior in every way. I couldn’t allow my son to be stolen away under my nose like that. Then again, this father of mine, it was his blood that coursed through my veins, the one who gave me this strong heart to beat his blood through my veins. I grinned, the solution had been so obvious, how could I have been so blind? I shook my head to myself in disbelief, how foolish I had been to not see the enormity of this golden opportunity on a silver plate. The doorbell rang, and I grinned, things were falling into place, everything would be in order, no, they would be even better than before. I heard the sound of my son’s door being opened.

“Is that Grandpa?” I heard his voice.

“Let me check” I hollered back, chuckling to myself as I did so.

Sure enough when I checked the peephole, I saw the familiar visage of my father, my old man standing outside, patiently waiting. I opened the door.

“Hiya Pops.”

“Oh, morning son. Hope you don’t mind, I planned to take Nate fishing. You can come along too if you want!” He laughed to himself, a hearty roar, like a large ashy fire. I marvelled at the sound and subconsciously licked my lips. I could barely contain my excitement.

“Sounds great Pops, I may just join you two but I’ve got something to show you. Come in, come in, we can talk more in my room.”

He graciously accepted my invitation as I undid the locks. Smiling to myself, I chained the gate and shut the door, making sure there was no way anyone could come in, or out.

I led the way to my room, opening the door for my father. He stepped in imperiously, with the air of a man who had gotten his way all his life. Not arrogant, it was just how things worked when you were as loved and respected as he was.

“Alright son, what did you want to tell me?”

I smiled, my eyes lighting up with genuine joy.

“Hold still old man.”

I saw the barest frown begin to form on his face as his brow furrowed in puzzlement. He began to open his mouth to ask the question I knew was forming in his mind. I knew what he was going to say. I didn’t care, instead I lunged at his throat. He choked in a mixture of shock, panic, and utter confusion. He spluttered as he tried to yell out but the cry died in his throat as I held on, my penetrating gaze boring deep into his eyes. He whimpered slightly as he stared back, his pupils rapidly dilating, his normally half-shut eyes now open wide in terror and awe. I had him. I tilted my head back and began to push myself out. Slowly, surely, I unstuck the various parts of myself from within my host. My spectral form tore free from the muscle and bone it had been so deeply encased in for the past few days. I felt his senses began to leave me as his limbs grew numb and his eyes grew dull as I continued to detach myself. My host gagged as he coughed up more and more of my essence. I sighed, apparently even in death I could not escape from certain problems. When I had been alive I had been a large man. Now, I certainly had the spirit to match, just not always the body to go along with it. This vessel had been fairly accommodating, if a bit of a squeeze. The remnants of my ghostly belly bubbled up from my host’s, leaving only my tail to wiggle around in his throat. Just another oddity of being a ghost, though I supposed there was little need for legs if one could just as easily hover over the ground. I rubbed my plump hands together in anticipation. But I couldn’t leave just yet. I clutched on to my hefty paunch, digging in to grab handfuls of ectoplasm. Turning to my host with a loving look, I gently laid it over his face. It jiggled there momentarily, before sinking through his nose, his eyes, and soon it was pouring through every available orifice, heading straight for his brain. I felt the welcome return of his sight, his touch, his taste, though they were different now, faded in a way. No matter, so long as I still retained control, still dictated every breath he took, every step he made. Having finished the necessary preparations, I turned back to the old man. His shallow breaths indicated he was still under, still waiting but close, too close to consciousness. I smiled, a fighter, he would serve me well. I rubbed my hands together once again, straightening them out as far as they would go. Using my hosts’s mouth as a makeshift springboard, I lifted myself into the air, and dove straight into the old man’s open jaw.

Oh, what a RUSH. I could feel him, his spirit as it thrashed away, aware of this foreign presence, this threat to itself. I tunneled further, deeper still, pushing past the walls of red and white to the soft ethereal core. In one smooth motion, I grabbed onto it as I swung myself upright using the momentum I had gained, and pressed my own into it. It shuddered as it felt the unwelcome intrusion, the way it unwillingly yielded to take in mine, the way it could do nothing but accept me.

I opened my eyes, feeling a brand new set of senses fill my consciousness, swamping me with new information. I closed my eyes as I drank it all in, gluttonously sucking in as much as I could. More, more, more. I choked, opening my eyes involuntarily as I huffed a few short pants. Looking at me lovingly... was me. Even now as I looked at him, I could also see him looking at me through his eyes. We smiled in unison, lips curling up perfectly in sync. I smirked and he did as well. I laughed, and the bass of our voices layered effortlessly with each other, bouncing around the room. Together, we began to unbutton our shirts, unbuckle our belts. As the clothes slipped off our bodies we tumbled onto the nearby couch, staring at each other, scarcely breathing as we gazed at each other’s beauty. As the old man, I laid down first, slowly curling my back while still ensuring I could see my son. As my son, I brought my hairy body atop my father’s. We shivered, feeling the way our fur, our skin, brushed against each other, every contact a small jolt of pleasure. We looked at each other, entranced. It was understood what was to be done, no words needed to be said.

---

I stepped out of the room as the old man. Strong as these bodies were, the rapid sequence of activity had drained the younger. It was time for me to rest, but also time for me to continue my day afresh, with the adrenaline rush of a new host. I stepped out into the living room to see a young man sitting on the couch, staring at his phone. He looked up as I approached.

“Grandpa! You’re here!” He said, surprised. I closed my eyes from the abrupt rush as he addressed me, so trusting, so sincere.

“Sorry son,” I rumbled, “didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Had some matters to discuss with your dad.”

“Oh.” His face fell as he cast his eyes downwards. I frowned but stayed silent, sensing he wanted to say something.

“About dad... he’s been acting kind of weird lately. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Ah, so that was the problem. I patted myself on the back mentally, clearly I was on a streak of good decisions, making all the right moves.

“Don’t you worry about that son, we’ll have plenty of time to talk on the boat. Now let’s go fishing.” I saw him relax as he raised his head to smile at me. He got up from the couch and started to the door. I clapped a giant hand onto his shoulder, turning my head to give him a knowing wink.

#daddy #father #dad #grandfather #grandpa #daddy bear #beard #family #ghost #bear #male possession #pair possession #multiple possession #split possession #split #long story

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober: Week 2

Illumi x Fem!Reader - Earned It (NSFW)

A/N: trigger warning, your boy is on some dom shit and this toes the line into dubcon. Anyway Illumi loves his wife (you).

Song: Earned It by the Weeknd

Make sure to check out my lovely mutuals (@trash-writings, @hisokapegger @mynameseri for the rest of today’s Kinktober posts!)

---

I'ma care for you

I'ma care for you, you, you, you

---

You were suspended in the air, bound and blindfolded, with nothing to ground you to the very earth except the sound of your husband pronouncing your name.

The single utterance seemed to bounce around the room unstably, or maybe you were just disoriented by the very slight spin you were taking. Your heart stopped, then restarted almost as quickly with your moment of realization - you were floating, rotating slowly and somehow purposely around a point.

One fact was obvious. That point, that focus was Illumi. Illumi was - had always been - your center.

That you would have to depend on himself for your sense of the world at this very instant was only right. Good, even. Illumi’s calm, neutral voice was the gravitational force that kept you tied to the very earth, after all. He was the reason why you existed the way you did, living in luxury, showered with the finest of clothing, provided with the most exquisite of meals, plush surroundings, constant security, devoted servants…

You were but a vase of fine flowers after all; he watered you often and intentionally so that you could continue to display beauty and bear fruit. All you had to do was to smile and nod (when appropriate and prompted to, of course), letting your natural grace shine through on the few occasions you left the manor to accompany him on business. It was a simple task and you played the role perfectly, and Illumi normally rewarded you heavily afterwards for being his good little wife.

But were you still his good little wife tonight? The infinitesimally small edge to his voice, something you had trained yourself to detect over the years could suggest otherwise.

For now, you could only wonder what you had so royally fucked up this time to find yourself horizontal against gravity, ropes intricately but more importantly, securely, looped over every joint and curve.

“Illumi... are you there?” You called back to him tentatively, the mixture of fear and nervous anticipation mounting inside you evident in the very timbre of your reply.

Illumi’s voice, lowered three octaves, called out your name from a point you could not identify. You shivered, and only then could you deduce you were as bare as the day you were born.

“Are you ready to accept your punishment?”

---

You make it look like it's magic (Oh yeah)

'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you

I'm never confused

Hey, hey

I'm so used to bein' used

---

Cold fingers lightly drum the skin of your inner thigh; you let out a single shallow gasp, acutely aware of how your legs were parted just so, knees bent such that your ankles were in some way you couldn’t identify bound to your wrists.

Exposed.

Your arms immobilized behind you, you could do nothing, not even squirm as Illumi’s frigid fingers continued to thread closer and closer to that waiting, wanting spot in the center, your center, trailing up your left thigh. But instead of leaving ice in their wake, you felt your skin start to burn passionately at his touch.

Then without warning, his other hand came down firmly on your right inner thigh and a flash of white replaced the dark before your tearing eyes as the impact of his palm hitting your skin reverberated in the room with a loud slap.

You cried out, and you could almost feel him revel in your anguish, as he gently rubbed the pain out of the still searing skin.

“You always seem to be misbehaving, my love.” The term of endearment came out drawn out and harsh, but not as harsh as the rough stroke of his tongue attacking the space between your legs. You writhed in something like pleasure, letting out another sharp gasp as he drew his tongue across once more, applying firm pressure on your thighs the entire time.

You began to whimper as you felt the sting of his nails digging into your soft flesh, but he began his onslaught on your clit, your lower vulva and everything in between peppering it with kisses and penetrating you with his soft, pink tongue rendering you into a whining, convulsing mess.

Your head spun as he ravished you, and with nothing to hold, to squeeze, to center you, you found yourself screaming. “I-Illu! Illumi, p-please… stop, it’s too much!”

Too much of what? Something… Everything...

Illumi had long since grown unaffected by any pleas for amnesty, but for you, his good little wife, he paused just briefly enough to give you a short reprieve, where you had a moment to catch your breath but his touch remained constant. You could tell he had not moved from his spot when he spoke as his breath settled on your wet lips and sent a sensation like ice throughout your lower half.

He was just getting started, you could feel his hunger in the air, and he rocked you slowly, just a couple centimeters to and fro from your harness, safe and secure (and really not safe at all) before stopping your movement abruptly, and pressing his lips against your lower lips, forcing another shiver down your spine.

“Do I need to tape your mouth shut too, my love? You’re interrupting an exquisite meal.”

---

So I love when you call unexpected

'Cause I hate when the moment's expected

So I'ma care for you, you, you

I'ma care for you, you, you, you, yeah

---

His fingers were just as unforgiving as his mouth. A single finger teased your slick entrance while he grabbed a handful of one asscheek, and pierced into you keeping time with soft but hungry kisses on your lower back. As your walls started to clench around the single, slender finger boring into your vault, his hands began to rub circles around your bottom, and he began to suck and nip harder at that curve of your spine. Your breathing grew heavy and moans began to slip out of your throat, the quickening pump of his single digit intensified by your lack of input from your other senses.

A second finger slipped in and curled, tapping just at the little bit of flesh that shot pleasure through you and you cried once more, unable to stay silent for him.

“I~Illumi!”

“Keep quiet.” He admonished harshly, without hesitating to add a third finger to stretch out your already dripping cunt. His fingers were moving too quickly now, and with every slide in and out, tears formed and flowed, your eyes trying to resolve the overstimulation he was giving you. Nipples hardening, heart pounding, you could even feel your lips getting fuller, you were so painfully aroused, or maybe you were just biting your lip too hard in order to stay quiet… You weren’t quite sure of anything really, a fog seemed to descend even more, dulling your already deprived senses and all you could feel were Illumi, his fingers, his kisses, his other hand now squeezing and then slapping your ass hard enough that you swung forward, his lips nipping and sucking at your clit expertly, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body from your toes to the tips of your nose.

“I-Illu…”

“Shhh, let me take care of you, like this.”

---

'Cause girl, you're perfect

You're always worth it

And you deserve it

The way you work it

'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah

Girl, you earned it, yeah

---

“Illu~ ah!” Your words were cut off by the abrupt intrusion of something, much, much larger than a set of fingers and his ever so slight groan filled the air as he made his way inside, filling you so deeply you were certain you could feel him in your stomach. Despite the confident way in which his cockhead slipped so effortlessly past your walls and found a home deep within your guts, nice and snug between blankets of clenching, crying flesh, you felt a jolt of discomfort, and he paused mercifully for a moment to let you adjust to the deep yet pleasurable stretch.

A low, almost primal, moan escaped your throat and his hand reached for your scalp, letting his soiled fingers dance through your hair. Another hand looped around your waist to tease and play with your taut nipples. The moment of rest to adjust to him inside you was meant to be reassuring, to give you time before he really started to wreck you, but your body ached for him to move, your core pulsing and crying out for him.

“I-Illu, please,” you whimpered, your voice coming out as a shaky, high whine as his body stayed pressed to yours. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, settled with a rhythmic throb, and the most terrifying thought to you at this time was that he wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t ram you to death, and you would stay like this, aching to feel pleasure, to feel him.

“Do you want me to move? Do you crave me, my little sexy wife?”

“Y-yes, Illumi...”

“Say it.” His arms wrapped around your back, groping both breasts, teasing both nipples between his second and third fingers as he brought you securely against his chest.

“Illumi, I want you.”

---

You know our love would be tragic (Oh yeah)

So you don't pay it, don't pay it no mind, mind, mind

We live with no lies

Hey, hey

You're my favorite kind of night

---

“Oh, just want?” A single twitch of his cock inside you sent another wave of pleasure through your core and hunger, desire, lust continued to burn inside you.

“Illu, I need you…,” you croaked out. His lips brushed over your neck slightly.

“Just need?” He said, his tone amused. You knew he could do this all night, he was much stronger than you were, in all respects, even this. Frustration started to build.

“Illu, please...” Your panting grew heavier, it was getting hard to breathe with this fog inside you deepening even further. His hands were traveling up your chest to your throat, and now he was moving you, angling you upwards something like 45 degrees, or more, you weren’t sure. His hands still securely but gently around your throat, he now bit at your earlobe.

“Please what?” He whispered between bites, traveling down your neck.

“P-please fuck me!” You couldn’t take this much longer. You didn’t know why he was doing this to you, everything had been good, you had played your role so perfectly, why was he edging you so harshly?

He pulled back inside you just a single inch only to slam into you hard once, so hard you saw stars, but inside you craved more.

“Are you turned on?” He was still again, and your body yearned for him.

You let out another moan.

“Please… more… again…”

“I need you to know how hard it is for me to wait,” he hissed, still kissing, still nipping, still edging you. His shaft, still impressively hard, maybe even harder the longer he tortured you, continued to nestle inside you, pulsing, twitching every so often as though to remind you of the power it held to ruin you, if only it decided to.

You were now whining incomprehensibly and he began to slowly rock you back and forth on the suspension, cruelly making sure not to unsheath himself a single inch to deny you pleasure.

“You know, you made me hard in public,” he said. “In fact, it’s so hard to concentrate any time I see you. There’s just something you do-” - he rammed into you once again to accentuate the word, “- to me, and it’s just so…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead angling you downwards back into the horizontal position, shifting his hands from your neck to grip your waist instead in seconds, and it was almost as if he himself no longer could resist.

“Ridiculously lewd.”

It was like a dam had broken inside him, and now he was pounding into you mercilessly, a low growl escaping his lips as he sheathed and unsheathed himself into your tight pussy, the force of your body slamming into his hips accentuated by the momentum of the ropes from which you dangled.

“You’re so fucking tight for me, as usual,” he hissed, clutching at you once to stop your swings, forcing himself so far forward inside you that once again, you saw the entire galaxy. In two quick movements, your bindings at your wrists and ankles were freed, and he stood you upright so that he could press you tightly against him.

“I want to do so many naughty things to you, you despicable woman,” he whispered into your ears. Through your drunken haze, you found the strength to respond.

“Do anything you want to me, Master Illumi.”

---

On that lonely night (Lonely night)

We said it wouldn't be love

But we felt the rush (Fell in love)

It made us believe it was only us (Only us)

Convinced we were broken inside, yeah, inside, yeah

---

He ripped off your blindfold and spun you around to face him. Your wrists may not have been bound to your ankles any longer, but he quickly raised your arms to the ceiling and bound them together, then proceeded to pull the rope down so that you were suspended just the right height, his eyes on you lustfully the entire time.

Your husband’s beautiful features, usually neutral, were now twisted into lust, hunger, anger, fascination, all because of you… the sight made you burn up with a licentious heat. This time, without him having to prompt you, you swung forward to wrap your legs around his waist, and standing now, he bounced you up and down his cock, maintaining eye contact and pausing intermittently to envelop your lips in a hungry, all-consuming kiss.

“You bewitched me,” he whispered between kisses. “You should be punished.”

You had done no such thing. In fact, you’d fallen first. You had always loved him first. Illumi was the only thing that you needed, that you would ever need.

“I-if this is the - ah - punishment for taking - ah - your heart, I’ll a-accept it many... many times over,” you choked out, your arms aching to wrap around his neck.

Illumi rarely smiled, but this time, his lips curled into a devilish, excited grin as he sped up.

---

‘Cause girl, you're perfect (Girl, you're perfect)

You're always worth it (You're always worth it)

And you deserve it (And you deserve it)

The way you work it (The way you work it)

'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah (You earned it)

Girl, you earned it, yeah (You earned it)

#kinktober #hxh #illumi x reader #illumi #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck #dom!illumi #aggressive illumi

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chemist-ana · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 14 The Flight— Sams POV

Book: The Nanny Affair

Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Mason and Mickey, Sofia

Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)

Rating: 18+

Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations

A/N Shit starts to hit the fan for these two, I know that book 2 already started, but I have had some requests for this series to continue. I know Sam is in a weird place- and the next chapter I am going to really delve into his mind. Keeping this one a little light yall.

Summary: In the cold light of day, will you and Ana be able to face the consequences of your actions?

Word Count: 3919

Tag List: @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @choicesficwriterscreations @chrissythadon @somersetmummy @jerzwriter @shannonwrote @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @melalicious8383 @chrissythadon

The car ride to the private terminal of JFK is long… and loaded with tension. I continue to glance at Ana who is studiously avoiding my gaze and has been for the entire week leading up to this trip. Her legs are curved up with a pair of high-heeled boots, a light floral sundress, complimenting her olive skin. Effortlessly beautiful...

We pull up on the tarmac and Carter opens our door. The boys jump out of the car, and Ana and I follow close behind, taking the stairs up into one of the Dalton Enterprises jets.

“Dibs on the top bunk!” Mason calls out as he runs down the aisle towards the boy’s room in the back of the jet.

“No fair!” Mickey chases after him.

“There are bedrooms on this thing?” I hear Ana murmur to herself.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re equipped with every amenity you could possibly imagine.” Ana jumps in surprise as Ellie, my flight attendant, answers her.

“Really? Even a full-body massage?” Her lips spread.

I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my boylike grin as Ellie answers her. I will give you a full body massage.

“Thank you, Ellie. That will be all for now.” I tell her with a smile.

“Very good. I’ll go check on the boys. Push the call button if you need me.” She gives me a nod, and walks towards the back of the plane, disappearing from view.

Ana finally glances my way and I catch her eye, offering her a small smile as I sit down in one of the leather chairs.

“You look wonderful today. New outfit?”

She blushes but doesn't break her eye contact. “You know what they say… new country, new me.”

“I hope everything about you hasn’t changed… although I do like the new look.” She searches my eyes.

“Thank you.” She says as she sits down in a chair across the aisle from me, turning her gaze out of the window.

I let my eyes roam across her body before turning to the New York Times that is sitting on the table in front of me. I unfold it, desperate to alleviate even a little bit of the tension between us. If that means I need to give you space… I can try. I watch out of the corner of my eye as she opens up some sleazy tabloid magazine. I watch her eyes narrow as she becomes engrossed in a story, a line forming between her brow.

“What has you so absorbed over there?” I ask, breaking the silence. I wonder if that issue has our photo in it?

“Oh, nothing. Just some mindless reading.”

“I’m not sure there is such a thing.”

She turns her face towards me. “Sam, you’re talking to me now?”

I bite my tongue to stop a grin. “Last I checked, you were the one avoiding me. I’ve tried to talk to you several times over the last few days…”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was busy getting ready for our trip.” Her tone was defensive as a hot color rose on her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed.

“I know. That's why I let it slide. But now that we’re stuck together for a while… Let’s just say, I asked Ellie to make sure the boys are otherwise occupied for the first leg of our journey.”

The scoffs. “What if I don't want to talk to you?”

“That’s certainly your prerogative. I won’t force you, Ana.” I keep my voice even.

She lifts the magazine to block me out and I shake my head slightly, turning my attention back to the newspaper.

“Ohmygod! Sam, have you seen this?”

That beautiful photo of you and me together in the gossip mags? Of course, I have… I have had dozens of news alerts since that night.

“I told you that you were a big hit that night. Even the press thinks so.”

“It’s a good thing they didn’t let cameras inside the gala. That could’ve been embarrassing.”

“Would it have been so bad? I’m not embarrassed about anything that happened that night.” It probably would have been bad for my image… but maybe it's the exact kick in the ass I need.

“... Aren’t you?” She gives me an incredulous look as she raises a sculpted brow.

“Absolutely not. I may regret how some things were handled after the fact… but nothing that happened that night. Or the night after, for that matter.” Even though I definitely acted like it… and continue to act like it. I haven’t given you a reason to believe a word I fucking say.

“Sam…”

I take a breath, standing up, and moving to the seat next to her before I can stop myself. I place my hand on hers, the familiar spark that has been present from the moment I first touched her, crackles between us. Her eyes roam my face and settle on my lips.

“... Ana?” I warn as heat starts to spread in my veins. I watch as her eyes darken and her tongue darts out to lick at her bottom lip. She reaches up and wraps her hands around the back of my neck, pulling my lips to within millimeters of hers.

“I want you.” She whispers

“If this is a trick to distract me from our talk-”

“It’s not. I just need you inside me.” She whimpers, cutting me off, her voice laden with desire. Her words send a shockwave through my body as I whisper a quiet curse and bring her lips to mine. I need to be inside of you. I coax her lips open with my tongue as we settle back into our seats. I tap my hand blindly, searching for the blanket I know is draped around the back of my chair. I grip the soft fabric when I find it, pulling it over our laps, sliding my hands under it, and running my fingers up the inside of the soft skin of her thighs. My lips drop to the delicate curve of her throat, eliciting a moan from her lips.

My fingers travel further up until I reach the apex of her thighs, my thumb pressing against her nub through the lace fabric of her panties. Her breathing gets shallow as I feel her body begin to tense. Without breaking our heated kiss she stands and sits on top of my lap, straddling my hips, effectively pinning my hand between her legs.

“That’s better.” She murmurs against my lips.

“So much for our security blanket.” I tease.

“Do you mind?” She asks me, leaning back slightly so she can see my eyes.

“Definitely not. The view is better like this.” I stare longingly across the curves of her body before I lean forward and pepper kisses along the exposed skin of her chest. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

She wraps her arms around my neck and grinds her hips into my hardened desire, she quivers at the contact.

“Oh, I am.” She purrs. She snakes her hand down and makes contact with my hard cock. I suck in a breath through my teeth at the sensation. “Is all this for me?” She smiles as she watches my expression of pleasure that is obvious on my face.

“Only you.” I answer, my voice husky.

She briefly halts her movement to unzip my jeans, reaching into my boxers to make direct contact with her soft palm. The sensation has me pumping my hips in time with her firm strokes, sending a moan falling from my lips.

“Mmm, I love that sound. But you’d better keep it down…” She teases, as her lips explore the planes of my cheek, her hips and hand still rubbing against me.

“Is that a challenge?” I growl at her. I slide my fingers past the delicate fabric and dip two fingers inside of her moist cunt. She bites her lip as her gaze grows dark and her body writhes. Her head falls back as she moans. “I bet I can make you come first…” I whisper into her ear, loving the way her body responds to my touch.

She slides her hand out of my jeans, leaning back slightly on my lap. Her eyes never leaving mine, she brings her palm up to her mouth, running her hand along her tongue. Her name falls from my lips as she sends waves of desire through my body. She reaches her hand back down, pumping harder and faster than she did before. I can’t help the moans that are escaping my lips as she works my cock like a pro. I close my eyes as I give into the sensation, my breathing growing ragged.

Desperate to watch her come undone, I focus my thoughts into adding another finger into her pooling wetness, using my thumb to press firmly against her clit. I reach my other hand up under her dress, finding and pinching her nipple into a firm peak. She moans my name, a surrender.

“I won't come until you do…” I whisper against her cheek, her ragged breathing hot on my neck.

We continue to move faster against each other. Her movements send me impossibly deeper and higher as I near the edge of my own release.

“That’s it, Ana. Come for me.” I whisper into her ear as her moans fill my ears. I watch her mouth fall open as her forehead falls to my shoulder. She bites my shoulder, hard, as she muffles her moans. Her body convulses and tightens around my fingers as she goes crashing over the edge in her orgasm. The feel of her body coming at my command sends me soaring over the edge with her as my eyes close and my head falls back. I moan her name as we find our release, together. We stay intertwined together as our breathing slows, her head still resting on my shoulder.

A few minutes later, she lifts her emerald eyes to mine.

“Call it a tie?” She says as a playful smile crosses her face.

I can’t help but laugh as I press a soft kiss to her lips. “Fair enough. But watch yourself, or I might demand a rematch.” I help her retake her seat in the plush leather chair beside mine, and I take a moment to button up my jeans and straighten my shirt.

“So… about that talk.” Her voice sounds small.

A wave of guilt and regret wash over me as I glance over at Ana and her fingers are knotted on her lap.

“What’re we going to do?” She asks quietly.

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have put you in such a terrible position.” I reach up and rub the back of my neck as my stomach drops.

“‘Terrible position’? Meaning… You’re still going to marry Sofia. Even after we...” Her voice sounds so sad… and I want to tear at the ache in my chest as the realization hits me. I have no choice…

“Yes. I… I have to.” My eyes search hers as I see them start to shine with unshed tears.

“You don’t have to do anything. You could grow up. Are you ever going to take responsibility for your part in all of this?” Her voice is angry now as her lips settle into a thin line.

“You’re right. I haven’t been stepping up like I should. But I’m trying to change that now. And this engagement… it’s my way of trying to take responsibility for the boys’ sakes.”

“The boys? What do they have to do with this?” Her eyes widen.

“Everything. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me and Sofia, but the arrangement was our parents’ idea. A way to merge our families and companies.”

“Because it's the 19th century again?” She says with contempt.

“Something like that. But I’ve known Sofia forever, and I already married for love once… At the time, the engagement seemed like the right move.” I never thought I would meet another woman that would floor me the way you do.

“A way to secure a legacy for Mason and Mickey.” Her face drops at her realization.

“Exactly. After everything they’ve been through with their mom and previous nannies, I felt like they needed a stable, motherly presence in their lives. My dad is officially stepping down as CEO after the merger, and I’ll take over for him, as long as everything goes as expected. It was the perfect plan. But then…” I trail off as the words I long to say hurt too bad to say out loud… I met you.

“Then you met me.”

I nod as I watch her sink further into the chair.

“If I don’t marry Sofia, I’d lose everything. It'd be an easy decision if I only had myself to think about. But if Robin takes over the company, Mason and Mickey would lose everything too. And Dalton Enterprises… it’s their birthright.” It’s in their name, they are destined to run this company… if I can’t be there as their father, I need to give them the one thing I have worked so hard to give them.

“Sam, have you talked to your dad about this? Maybe if you just explain…”

My mind wanders back to the conversation I had with my father… “Women like your nanny are only good for one thing…”

I shake my head, controlling the grimace that threatens to cover my face. Time for a white lie…

“We have talked about it. As much as he likes you, he’s convinced Sofia is the better match. He won’t change his mind.”

She hesitates, her eyes focused on her hands before she takes a deep breath. “In that case, I think we should take a step back. You’re engaged. You're going to marry Sofia. Until that changes, we can't keep going the way we have been.”

My stomach sinks further as she turns her face towards mine. I hate being the one that has made you so sad…

“Of course… if that’s what you want, I’ll respect your wish. I suppose I should stay by sitting over there, huh?” I gesture to the other side of the plane and she gives me a small, sad smile.

“Yeah, that might be best.”

I stare at her for one more moment before retreating back to the other side of the jet. I see her turn and face the window out of the corner of my eye and I tip my head back onto the headrest. What am I doing, and why does this feel so wrong?

***

The flight passes by slowly as the tension lingers between Ana and me. When we finally land in Italy we make the long drive up to Sofia’s family villa that is nestled in the middle of wine country. I watch as Ana stares absentmindedly out of the window and my chest tightens.

“I’m so tired, I can barely think straight.” She frowns as she steps out of the SUV, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

“Ana, you can take a nap while me and Mason go to the beach!” Mickey shouts as he jumps out.

“Nice try, Mickey, but there are other adults who can watch you while Ana rests.” I tousled his hair.

“Can’t blame a kid for trying…” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Dad, will you take us to the beach?” Mason asks with a smile.

“At some point, definitely. But we should check in with our hosts before we make any plans--”

“Is that my boo-bear I hear?” Sofia shouts as she emerges from the front door. I bite my tongue. God, I hate that nickname.

Sofia walks up and greets everyone with a kiss on each cheek.

“You’re finally here! Welcome to our humble abode.” She stretches her arms out and gestures to the estate. “Ana, that dress is divine. I was worried that… Never mind, you’ll fit right in.” Sofia glances quickly at Ana before turning her back and moving towards the door. “Come in, come in. It won’t do for the neighbors to see us standing outside all day.”

“But Aunt Sofia, there aren’t any other houses around…” Mason scrunches up his face in confusion, but Sofia just waves her hand dismissively as she continues walking away from us.

“I’ll just give you a quick tour so you don’t get lost-”

“Can we start with the pool?” Mickey shouts as he runs by her.

“Mickey! Wait for me!” Mason chases after him, pulling his suitcase behind him. They both stop beside the pool, opening their suitcases and digging around, removing every last piece of packed clothing from inside. I bite back a smile as I watch Sofia’s eyebrows furrow in annoyance.

“Ana, aren’t you going to do something about this?”

“Actually, as their future stepmom, maybe you should.” Ana shrugs her shoulders.

Sofia huffs and looks at Mason and Mickey.

“This oughta be good…” Ana whispers as she leans in close to me.

“I’m almost afraid to look.” I flash her a smile.

“You two, stop it right now and clean up this mess!” Sofia shouts at them as she places her hands on her hips.

“No thanks!” Mason doesn’t even look up from trying to find his swimsuit.

“Target acquired, Admiral Mason!” Mickey celebrates as he lifts a super soaker over his head in victory. Where the hell did that come from?

“How did they sneak that into their luggage?” Ana says with surprise.

Mickey quickly fills the water gun in the pool and points and shoots it all over Mason as he shouts.

“Boys! Enough!”

I jump slightly as Sofia shouts, her face twisted in anger. The boys turn towards Sofia, their fingers still pulling the trigger on the guns, sending a water stream shooting onto Sofia’s face.

This. Is. Priceless.

“Sorry!” Mickey shouts, immediately putting the water gun to his side.

“Alright, I think that’s enough. Boys, clean up your clothes right now.” Ana steps forward, clearly fighting back a laugh.

“Yes, Ana…” Mason looks down at the pile of clothes, kneeling down to put it all back inside of his suitcase.

“I really didn’t mean to spray you, Aunt Sofia. I was aiming for Mason.” Mickey looks at Sofia.

“...I accept your apology.” Sofia chimes as her face softens.

“Maybe we should let them blow off some steam after being cooped up in the place for so long.” Ana turns to me and I glance down at her.

“Good thinking. Let’s take this tour away from the pool…” I glance down at the boys who have their suitcases zipped and by their sides.

Sofia leads us to the back patio

“Wow. I could get used to this.” Ana says quietly as she places her hands on the railing, overlooking the rolling hills.

“It’s a stunning view.” I step up next to her.

“And it’s the perfect place to play hide-and-seek.” Mickey’s eyes grow wide as he looks around the rows of grapes in the vineyard.

“Not it!” Mason shouts as they start to run towards the rows of vines, but Sofia steps into their path causing both of them to slide to a stop.

“The vineyard is not for recreation. It’s a Russo subsidiary.” Her eyes are wide.

I roll my eyes.

“What does that mean?” Mickey looks up at her.

“It means little boys shouldn’t play hide-and-seek in it.” She crosses her arms across her chest.

“Sofia, be reasonable. The boys won’t hurt the vines, and they could use the chance to run around a bit.” I take a step towards her meeting her gaze.

“But these varieties take years to grow to fruition. One misstep and-”

I know you are worried about your dad, Sof. Let it go.

“Please, Aunt Sofia!” Mason shouts, bringing his hands together to plead.

“We promise we won’t touch any grapes!” Mickey widens his eyes.

“And if anything does happen, I’ll make sure your father knows it was my fault.”

“But nothing will. Sam and I will make sure of it.” Ana steps up by my side and I glance down at her quickly. Sofia looks between Ana and me.

“Very well. On one condition…”

“What?” Mason asks.

“...I’m not ‘it’ either!” Sofia smiles a genuine smile.

“You’re gonna play too? Not it!” Ana smiles as she dances backward from the group, putting space between herself and all of us.

“Not it!” I shout making my way towards the vines and look down at Mickey. His lips spread into a sly smile.

“Whatever, I’m the fastest anyway.”

“This planter will be home base. You can’t get tagged while you’re touching it.” Mason points to a pot on the patio.

“Yeah, yeah. But first… you all have to hide!” Mickey turns his back to the vines and closes his eyes as he starts counting. Everyone scatters to find a hiding spot. I head into the vines, finding a place between a trellis and I hear Mickey shout.

I sit quietly until I see Mickey pass by me. As soon as he is out of sight, I emerge from my hiding spot, making a straight shot to the planter. When I turn around I see Ana running towards me with Mickey hot on her heels.

“Come on, Ana! I’ve got you!”

“Not if I get you first!” Mickey shouts gaining on her.

I reach out and grab Ana’s hand, pulling her powerfully into my arms. Her chest rises and falls with her breath.

“Safe!” She giggles, the sound sending warmth surging through me.

“... For now. I’ll get you next time.” Mickey smiles.

“We’ll see about that.” Ana jests.

“Sofia and Mason are still out there… Unless you want them to win.” I look at Mickey.

“Never!” He shouts as he turns and runs back into the vines.

“Don’t you think Sofia might see?” Ana whispers.

I look down as I realize I still have my arms firmly around Ana’s body.

“Right, of course. Sorry.” I shake my head slightly as I let my arms fall to my side, but I don’t step back. She looks up at me and her emerald eyes shine in the bright sunlight.

“Thanks for saving me.” She clears her throat with a smile.

“Any time. I-”

I jump when a triumphant shout comes from the vines. I turn and see Sofia walking with Mickey and Mason towards the patio.

“I got Aunt Sofia!” Mickey raises his fist in the air.

“She was talking on her phone! I saw the whole thing!” Mason pushes his glasses up his nose.

“Nice one, Mickey.” Ana gives him a high five.

“I had to take the call! They didn’t know I was in the middle of a game.” Sofia’s eyes are wide as she comes to a stop and places her hands on her hips.

“Sounds like he got you fair and square, Sofia.” I give her a crooked smile and she sticks her tongue out at me.

“Which means that you’re it.” Ana cheers as she starts backing towards the vines.

“Very well.” Sofia closes her eyes and starts counting loudly. I turn and make my way back into the vineyard to hide. I glance over my shoulder and I see Ana watching me as I turn down a row. I flash her a wink. Follow me. But she doesn’t.

In fact, she avoids me for the rest of the day. My mind races as the reality of our situation really hit me. What are you going to do Dalton?

#ana dalton #choices fanfic writers creations #choices tna #choicestna #choices sam dalton #the nanny affair #sam dalton #sams pov #sam dalton x mc

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calpops · 5 years ago

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reassurance | c.h.

Your relationship with Calum is accidentally exposed to the public and you both have to deal with the hardships it entails. Based on the prompts “nothing is wrong with you”, “I’m not going anywhere”, “you’re the only one I wanna wake up next to” and “you make me feel safe".

1.7k words

dates with cal masterlist

<< >>

Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, the light burning in the otherwise dark room. You sit alone on the edge of the bed. Calum is still at the studio, another late night of finalizing keeping the comfort of him from you. Photos are surfacing online and it’s the first time you’ve been publicly spotted with Calum. How you’ve managed to keep your relationship to yourselves for so long is baffling but something you both cherished. Now that’s broken; the intimacy taken from you and splashed across headlines and social media. Your hands shake and your phone screen comes in and out of view with the motion and burning eyes. You take in a shallow breath and swipe out of social media that makes your mind spin and heart ache. You fumble to dial Calum’s number and wait with bated breath as the phone rings and rings and rings. You didn’t expect him to answer; completely used to his voicemail greeting on nights when the band takes precedence.

He doesn’t answer and familiar words flood you but you can’t fathom getting your own words out, instead you hang up and toss the phone on the bed. Willing the entire situation away from you with the action. The photos and words attached to them are clear in your mind as you crawl into bed with your clothes still on; too tired and uncaring to change into pajamas. You can picture the snapshots vividly, they were taken at a distance but capture you both in a moment you thought was private. Intimate. His hands cupping your smiling face and his lips pressed to your forehead. The words of fans and media outlets burn in dark red behind closed eyelids. They’re fleeting but come back in haunting whispers as you wait. Wait for them to go away, wait for Calum to come home, wait for assurance that everything is okay and those words aren’t true. They’re lies and rumors and misconceptions based on wild theories. You try to remember that as time ticks on and Calum still hasn’t come home. It’s later than his usual late and doubts begin to plague you, to settle in your brain with twisted words and venomous vengeance.

It’s compulsory when you reach for your phone again; you try to convince yourself it’s just to see if he’s texted yet but no notifications from him light up the screen and yet you unlock the phone anyway. You don’t know why. You know how heavy the words were the first time you were presented with them. With only minutes between you dive back into the words from faceless people that shouldn’t hurt but make your chest tight and eyes well up with tears anyway.

You’re curled into your side with a quivering lip and tear stained cheeks when Calum finally gets home with phone in hand and worries hitting him hard and fast. He saw your missed call as soon as they wrapped up the session; the lack of voicemail to accompany it was unusual and spiked anxiety and questions through him. He raced home with only thoughts of you as the rest of the world became faded. He could’ve called but the drive was short and seeing you was his first priority—the lack of your voice on his messages instilling that need tenfold. He finds you in bed, day clothes still on, phone in hand and silent sobs escaping you. He doesn’t know what’s wrong but he’s moving to your side on instinct, replacing the phone with his hand as he pulls you up and to him. You’re shaking in his hold and he does his best to calm you and stop the tears. A million scenarios race through his mind and none of them are pleasant, most of them begin with loss and heartache and leave him breathless.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asks as gently as he can manage.

Calum’s in a half crouched position at the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around you as best as they can be. You sink into his embrace and take comfort in the familiarity of his hold; revel in his concern and use it to instill faith in the things you should already know and never forget. You don’t know if you can manage to say much, throat tight and burning and chest weighed down by revelations of the night. For a selfish moment you stay silent and press closer into him, holding onto the fragmented pieces of hope that everything is still okay. Calum didn’t want to go public with your relationship and you’d never batted an eye at that—also content to keep whats yours between the two of you with only friends and family knowing. Now that’s shattered. You never wanted to live under the scrutiny of media and fans and eyes always on you, seeing you, judging you. Now you’re shattering.

“There’s pictures,” you manage to choke out and pull away from him but guide him up to properly sit on the bed though his arms don’t want to leave you. He settles on the edge and pulls you back before you can even catch your breath. “Everyone knows. Everyone hates me.”

Calum goes still; you can’t even feel the rise and fall of his chest beating out breaths. He’s stoic and contemplative as he figures out your words and rejects their meaning. You peer up at him through hazy tears and find a frown creasing his features. Guilt eats at you—tries to tell you it’s your fault and he’s upset with you for the broken bit of privacy his life once had. You suck in a shaking breath and wipe at your face, determined to move away and find refuge and safety from the moment under the covers. But Calum shakes himself and doesn’t let you go, he’s soft and warm as he invites you back into his side and does his best to rid your face of the rest of the tears.

“Can I see the pictures?” He finally asks and you can hear the hitch in his breath as reality crashes through.

You slowly nod; the articles and tweets still litter your phone, all you have to do is unlock it and hand it over. Calum doesn’t let go of you as he accepts the device, his eyebrows furrow and brown eyes glint with recognition and then glimmer back to concern. He swipes through, rolling text passes in a blur and a sigh escapes him. You’re two seconds away from another sob but bite your lip and try to keep it in. He tosses the phone away and looks down at you, hands gentle as they come up to cup your face and lips warm and familiar as they place a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s about time the world gets to know how much I love you,” he says and leaves you shocked with disbelief.

You had no way to gauge what his response might be other than late night conversations detailing how much he values your shared privacy. That he appreciates you being okay with staying under the radar. One simple sentence blows all of that away, a kiss and a sigh accompanying it in a delicate form of reassurance. But hostile words from unknown people still settle in your heart and haunt your thoughts. Knowing Calum is okay with your relationship being public is only a slim margin of the battle. The rest comes in droves of hateful words and bold headlines.

“You don’t believe any of it, do you?” He asks abruptly, tone tight and clipped. You know he means the hate, the disparaging words that dance through social media so mindlessly, so heartlessly.

You force a shrug and wipe the rest of your tears away, eyes downcast at the notches in the wooden floor. You can hear his heartbeat, the steady rhythm grounding you and forcing you away from the spiraling whirlwind of negativity and doubt.

“Maybe some of it's true,” you whisper and feel the pull of Calum pulling you closer, holding you tighter, repositioning you to settle into his lap completely and find comfort in his actions.

“It’s not,” he says firmly and keeps his gaze steady on you. “No one else’s opinion matters. There’s nothing they can say to make me think there’s something wrong with us or you.”

He’s saying exactly what you need to hear, things you already know but need to be reminded. Taking your fears and doubts from other people’s words and pushing them away so effortlessly. Comments that pick you and your relationship apart don’t feel as heavy and honest when Calum’s there to lift them away and cast light on your truth. Calum’s always considered himself a man of few words but he always has the right ones in the right moments.

“They don’t know you like I do. They don’t get a say in our relationship. I’m not going anywhere; not without you. No one else’s opinions matter,” he repeats and kisses you again. “I hope you know that.”

You did and now you do again. You nod against his chest and decompress, body easing after hours of tension and uncertainty. You move with him as he leans you back against the pillows and toward the sliver of moonlight that peeks through slotted open curtains. It’s silent for a few minutes and in that time Calum sends out a tweet of confirmation and defense. You don’t know what it says and don’t care to look or ask; you trust him and his words. Know how safe and protected he makes you feel.

“Feel any better?” He asks as he turns his phone off and tosses it away too.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly and gnaw on your lip for just a second before asking, “you’ll be here in the morning?”

You have to ask, wanting to know if the band will take precedence again, if his side of the bed will be cold by the time you wake up because of an early morning session. But there’s another meaning that sinks into the question. Reassurance being sought out.

“Of course,” he answers just as softly, with two meanings capturing his voice. “Always wanna wake up with you, sweetheart.”

<< >>

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deansawthetvglow · 4 years ago

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Emphasis

2.1k

destiel first meetings, deancentric, potential for more story. cas is like barely in this

“death is promised to the bee whose sting protects the colony”

he’s 24, it should be gone by now, he needs to grow out of it but god dammit, there it is. a constant looming presence. the fact of the matter is, dean winchester has a severe phobia of wasps, bees—anything that buzzes past him that he can’t identify immediately— and he can’t help it. it’s irrational, he knows it’s irrational, in fact he kind of loves bees, he knows how important they are, how his mom used to love them, and dammit he’s an adult and he needs to get over it already. (it’s kinda why he loves hunting, they’re either in the car (dean keeps his windows rolled up) or out at night sneaking into some monster’s lair)

so it’s decided, dean’s gonna suck it up and find a therapist. he goes with the third one in the phone book, she looks kind (hot), and she specializes in anxiety disorders. dean sets an appointment.

he starts attending weekly, thanking the fraudulent card he carries that he’s not spending real money on this endeavor. his therapist, Lisa, is easy on the eyes, so it helps the sessions feel more palatable. he also ignores how, every time she asks him a question, he feels so vulnerable it hurts. he’s always on the verge of tears there, but he’d never admit it. he’s thankful his dad’s out on a string of solo hunts and he can keep grounded here, at least until he can wean off the sessions.

on a tuesday, dean finds a dead wasp on the windowsill of his motel room. he nearly bolts from the room, but something is keeping him grounded. he takes deep breaths like lisa recommended, he closes his eyes for a moment and just repeats “it’s dead, it’s dead, it can’t hurt you, it’s dead.” when he opens his eyes, and the wasp is still there, he feels a bit better. he doesn’t do anything about it, just cohabitates with it until his thursday session. he tells lisa about it and she quirks her lip up in a half smile. she has a glint in her eye that almost scares him, but after all this time, he trusts her, he honestly does. at the end of their time, she stands and tells dean she’s got homework for him. he almost groans, but he keeps it to himself. she pulls out one of her desk drawers and presents dean with a small mason jar. she places it in his hands and gives him a mission: get the wasp into the jar and bring it with him for next time.

he’s nervous already, but he nods, he wants this to work, he needs this to work.

when he gets back to the motel, he opens the door, peeking at the windowsill to make sure it’s still there before he pulls himself into the room. it takes him an hour of pacing, tears brimming, breaths shallow and panicked, before he finally gets the courage to do it. he grabs a pen from the side table and walks to the window. he holds the open mason jar under the sill, lines his pen up behind the wasp and squeezes his eyes shut as he sweeps his pen across the surface.

when he opens them, the wasp is sitting at the bottom of the jar and dean nearly drops it, but he convinces himself to get the jar top and seals it with frantic, shaky hands. when the wasp is secure, he sets the jar on the sill and collapses into bed. it felt terrible, but he did it. he fucking did it.

on his drive to the practice that week, he puts the wasp in the passenger seat so he can keep an eye on the jar. even carrying the thing is torture as he ascends the stairs to lisa’s office. when he gets to her waiting room, she’s already got her door open and he enters, trying to keep cool as he sets the wasp on the table between them.

she grins like she’s so incredibly proud and dean’s heart swells with it for a moment. she asks him to tell her about the experience, which he does, watching her taking a note here or there, or asking a clarifying question. when he finishes, they only have a little time left, but she asks him to lay down on the couch and close his eyes to relax. he feels her presence by his side. she tells him to keep his eyes closed as she explains what’s going to happen next.

“dean, with your consent, i would love to begin exposure therapy with you. all you’ll have to do today is hold the jar above you and observe the wasp.’

dean nods, his heart beat already quickening. he opens his eyes on her say so and she places the jar gently in his hands. he grounds himself, and then brings the jar above him. the underside of the jar is much more clear than the patterned sides. he can see the wasps body, dull with decay, but a wasp nonetheless. lisa asks him to describe it to her. he does.

when he walks out of her office that day, he feels a bit lighter. he leaves the wasp with her because it’s nearly rotted and she’ll dispose of it properly. when he walks the path back to his car, a bee buzzes by, he flinches, but that’s all. no tears, no running, just a flinch. he grins.

saturday comes and dean decides to go to the farmers market. he hasn't been in a long time, maybe not since he was a kid, but he figures he’ll show off his improvement to himself a little bit. when he gets there, the sun is hot and bright, baking down on the colourful tents out before him. his goal is to walk the whole thing, stopping to smell the roses along the way. it goes pretty well until he goes to pick out a peach for lunch and he spots a bee on it, basking in the sweetness of the fruit. he pulls his hand back fast and keeps his eye on it, his mind going blank with fear and silencing the sounds of everyone around him. suddenly there’s a buzz behind him and he’s running. it’s irrational, he knows it’s irrational, and yet he’s doing it, running back to baby. he makes it almost all the way until his adrenaline wears off a bit. he slows to a walk, but he’s on high alert. suddenly he can see everything. he can see the paper wasps floating above the grass, he can see the bee settling into a bunch of sunflowers, he nearly throws up when he sees one trailing behind a woman's leg, so close it’s nearly touching. he covers his ears, hoping that the loss of one sense will help deescalate the situation. it helps a bit, and when he’s finally at baby’s side and quickly getting in, he takes a breath. he lets himself cry then. head against he steering wheel. he was doing so well but suddenly he feels like he’s back at step one. he failed. his tears don’t let up until his energy is drained from the day. from the heat of the sun, from the rush of adrenaline, from the emotions pouring out of him.

until the next thursday, dean stays in during the day. he doesn’t want to fail again.

he tells lisa as much at their next session. she looks at him with sympathetic eyes. he hates it.

lisa says he is getting better, it just doesn't feel like it because its a process. she smiles. he frowns, trying to grasp that concept. it doesn't feel right to him. the validation, the praise, it feels unwarranted. he closes up a little bit and thats when lisa says it.

“i can prove it to you.”

he quirks an eyebrow at her, dejected face softening into interest.

when the day is over, they have a plan. next week they’ll be meeting at heaven’s hives (dean thinks it sounds more like hell).

it’s thursday and dean is driving, white knuckles showing from his grip on his steering wheel. he’s grateful the apiary is just fifteen minutes out of town, it means the anticipation can’t build up (not that it hasn’t been for an entire fucking week). when he turns onto the dusty road with an arch above it baring the apiary’s name and a few carved bees on the poles, he lets himself take in the sounds of the road below him. it’s like white noise, temporarily drowning out his fears.

when he reaches the end of the road, it’s at a small white house surrounded by flowers. he can see some structures out by the side of the home, but he looks resolutely ahead and stalks to the front door. just getting there has his heart racing, there are bees buzzing all around him and he feels himself wanting to crawl out of his skin as he knocks on the door. suddenly, it’s quiet. his thoughts pause as he stares at the man who opened the door in front of him. he’s tall, just a few inches shorter than dean, and broad. his hair is raven black and effortlessly tousled. he has this big gummy smile and his eyes are crinkling up at the sides. his eyes. his eyes are so blue, they look like they could belong in space, planets hanging alone, away from time. he clears his throat finally to say hello. the man, castiel, opens the door further and invites dean in.

lisa is already sitting at the table, drizzling honey into the tea she has in front of her. the first thing dean notices is that the window behind her is open, a soft breeze causing the delicate white cloth to blow into the house. he tries not the let it affect him, but when he takes a seat, he makes sure his back is towards a wall and his eyes can watch the window.

castiel sits next to him and brings him a cup of tea too. he doesn’t drink tea much, but it would feel rude to reject an offer from their host.

castiel reaches across the table to pull the pot of honey from in front of lisa. dean watches her observe the motion, but he’s pulled from her when he hears a low voice beside him.

“dean. lisa has informed me of your situation.” he smiles and keeps dean’s rapt attention. dean is holding his eyes, not looking away. cas breaks it first, and says, “look” with a nod to his hands. dean’s mind would go elsewhere if he weren’t so fucking amped up with anxiety, but he looks. castiel’s left hand is holding the tiny honey pot and his right is stirring the golden sweetness. dean’s mesmerized as castiel’s voice narrates next to him.

“this is honey. it is the product of bee’s hard work. it’s a beautiful thing, dean. pure honey can quite literally last forever. a bee works her entire life to produce this product that will outlast her tenfold, and that’s an understatement.” castiel huffs a small laugh and dean quirks a small smile, still watching the hand stir the honey. “your fear-- dean, look at me,” dean lifts his eyes, “your fear is valid. it is one of the most common phobias across the globe. however, your fear is unfounded. i would sacrifice myself to be stung a thousand times over if it meant we could keep honey. if we could keep the trees and plants that bees pollenate and tend to. even if we could live in a world without bees, i wouldn’t want to, because they are small, and determined, and fuzzy and they are god’s most pure creation.” his eyes sparkle as he’s talking, dean is fighting to hang onto every word instead of drifting into the fantasy that is the man before him. “bees have a stinger to protect their colony. they will die to protect their own. i have a very strong sense that you are much like a bee, dean. i have faith in your abilities to overcome this.”

dean doesn’t realize until it’s too late that he’s crying. tears are falling from his eyes silently, blurring the images of cas and then lisa as he turns his face from them.

not once in all of their sessions did he cry in front of lisa, but now he’s overcome with a tidal wave of emotions and it’s all because castiel (bees)waxed poetic and compared him to his greatest fear. god the analogy hits so close to home it hurts. he finally turns back to the table where castiel and lisa are sitting patiently, waiting.

“i have faith too.”

#destiel ficlet #deancas #destiel #i might continue this on ao3 but this felt like the natural stopping point #if anyone wants to help me continue it i would not be opposed #i wanted it to be more destiel but sigh whatcha gonna do #slowburn if it was a full fic #my fics #king !!#angel !!#deancentric #dean winchester #lisa braeden #but its platonic i promise

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wolf08 · 4 years ago

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Igniting the Fuse

A fic for @zutaraweek

Summary: Zuko can’t stand Katara’s obvious contempt towards him. Determined to fix their relationship, he asks Aang and Sokka for help, who, in turn, devise a series of team building exercises with the intention of sparking friendship between the water bender and the banished Prince. They hadn’t anticipated sparking something more. Pre- (and post-) Southern Raiders. Zutara.

Available on A03 and FanFiction.net.

Prompt: Loosely inspired by the prompt “Fuse” (Zutara Week 2020) Genre: Romance/Humour Words: 4293 Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its characters.

A/N: Hi! Please accept my humble offering to the ATLA fandom for Zutara week. :) I’ve only ever written fics for the Naruto verse, but I just finished ATLA last month and have been fangirling about Zutara and the Gaang dynamics ever since. When I learned that Zutara week was just around the corner, I just knew I had to write something. Enjoy. :)

***

Igniting the Fuse

Now that he was part of the group of vagabond do-gooders (who he used to think were his sworn enemies), Zuko felt a sense of contentment and purpose like he’d never felt before.

It had been an excruciating uphill battle filled with awkward encounters and blows exchanged to finally convince them that he was on their side. But he’d persevered because Zuko just knew he was destined to be here, with them, to support their quest of defeating his father.

Thankfully, in the end, they accepted him.

Well, all except for the water bender, that is.

Katara, the last water bender from the Southern Water Tribe, who had the biggest heart and kindest smile that Zuko had ever seen, utterly despised him.

She made no effort to hide this fact, with how she always sat as far away from him as possible, sneered at his (attempted) jokes, and ignored him point-blank whenever he spoke.

As the Fire Nation’s banished Prince with a prominent scar on his face marking him as such, Zuko wasn’t unfamiliar with this type of treatment. But what made it different with Katara was that (a) she was avoiding him out of pure dislike – not fear (hell, he’d faced her in combat before and knew she could hold her own against him), and (b) it was Katara.

Why did it have to be her who hated him, of all people? She was level-headed, compassionate, and strong, in other words, she was an embodiment of everything that Zuko wished he himself could be.

And, not to mention, she was rather easy on the eyes and nice to be in the presence of (though, of course, Zuko would never dare admit this out loud).

Perhaps the worst part of all of this was that Zuko knew her hatred was justified. After she’d let her guard down in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se by confiding in him and offering to use her few drops of sacred water to heal Zuko’s scar (a gesture that Zuko would never ever forget), Zuko had responded by siding with her enemy and trying to kill her.

So, yeah, Katara had every right not to trust him ever again.

But that didn’t mean Zuko wasn’t going to give it his best shot anyways. After all, he was a changed man now. He was determined to reconcile for his sins. Earning Katara’s trust wasn’t just something he wanted – it was something he needed to fulfill his personal quest for redemption.

Not that Zuko had a clue where to begin.

After numerous fruitless attempts to force an interaction with her around camp like some school boy trying to get a girl’s attention, Zuko realized he needed help fixing his relationship with Katara.

He cast a wistful glance at Katara’s tent before turning towards the sea, where Aang and Sokka were currently fishing.

Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy, black hair. Despite being a little weird, Aang and Sokka were the most helpful sources of information around, with one of them being Katara’s brother and the other being, well, the Avatar. So he slipped off his shoes, hiked up his pants, and waded out to meet them.

Their fishing tactics were a rather theatrical sight, with Anng literally blowing fish out of the water with some air bending technique and Sokka spearing them as they flung into the air.

Zuko cleared his throat.

Aang, who was wearing nothing but his orange underpants, beamed at the sight of him. “Zuko! Have you come to help us fish?” he asked. “It’s not really my thing, but Sokka needed a hand.”

Zuko shook his head, folded his arms, and proceeded to explain his dilemma. The other boys listened attentively.

“Have you tried being, well, nice to her?” Sokka asked with raised eyebrows. “Katara likes everyone. It shouldn’t be that hard to get on her good side.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ve tried being nice! But I guess I just suck at it.”

After a moment of deep thought, Aang’s eyes lit up. “I’ve got it!” he said, clapping his hands together. “We’ll do team building exercises to foster trust. When Katara sees that you can trust each other, I’m sure she’ll like you more.”

But Zuko wasn’t entirely convinced. “This isn’t Air Temple preschool, you know,” he grumbled.

“No, no, I think Aang’s onto something here,” Sokka said with a smirk. “No offense dude, but your social skills suck. Structured ice-breakers are exactly what you need.”

“What? My social skills don’t suck!” Zuko shot back, but Sokka just shook his head, still smirking.

Then, in a deep, mocking tone, Sokka said, “Hello! Zuko here. I sent an assassin after you. Can we be friends?”

Aang covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Zuko’s eyebrow twitched, his face burning. “Okay, fine. Let’s try your stupid team building then.”

“Great!” said Aang. “Let’s start after lunch. We’ll handle everything Zuko, so don’t you worry about a thing.”

***

In an effort to gain Katara’s support for their day of team building, Aang and Sokka selected an activity that she was sure to enjoy for the first exercise: surfing lessons – an activity that was, quite literally, right in Katara’s element.

It wasn’t a bad idea, Zuko admitted and side-eyeing Katara’s enthusiastic response to Aang’s proposal of the activity. Her blue eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen them.

Shortly after, the four of them, with the additions of Toph and Suki, were gathered around the shore, with the girls in their swimming attire (cropped shirts and shorts for all but Katara, who wore a white skirt overtop) and the boys in their shorts. Then, Sokka explained that there would be no surf boards.

“No surf boards? How’s that supposed to work for surfing?” Toph asked, voicing Zuko’s concerns.

Katara stood, a smile on her face. “I’ll bend the water to make you float – you’ve just got to balance,” she said. Toph raised her eyebrows and crinkled her nose and Zuko made every effort to refrain from making the same face.

The water bender proceeded to demonstrate. With her feet pressed to the rolling waves as if she were on a solid surface, she jumped and glided in a shower of water droplets, her arms outstretched, like she was sliding through snow or sand. In a way, it looked like she was dancing, Zuko observed, and he wondered if he could really do that too, so effortlessly.

The demonstration came to the end and Katara approached the group. “All right – who’s first?” she asked cheerily, while wringing water from her thick, brown hair.

Zuko avoided eye contact.

“I’ll go!” Suki beamed and hopping to her feet.

And said Kyoshi warrior, despite not being a water bender, made it look rather easy too, in Zuko’s opinion, his confidence boosting ever so slightly. Suki jumped and twirled on the water, laughing the entire time, clearly having a blast. Sokka wolf whistled as Suki neared the shore at the end of her turn. She met his eyes and blushed before leaping into his arms with a big smile.

Zuko watched the interaction from the corner of his eye and wondered if he could ever get Katara to feel that comfortable around him.

Yeah right.

Aang went next and he glided over the water with ease (though it was hard to tell if he was truly surfing or floating over the waves with air bending). Even Toph took a short turn, despite her obvious discomfort over being parted with solid ground.

“Zuko’s turn!” Aang exclaimed after everyone had gone, like he was afraid Katara would forget about him.

Zuko caught her gaze and was met with an icy stare. More like she doesn’t want me to have a turn.

He got to his feet and sloshed through the shallow water before turning to the group in anticipation.

With mixed emotions, he noticed that Katara was smiling at him now, her eyes bright once more. What’s with the sudden mood change? he wondered while returning the smile with much hesitation.

Then Katara raised her arms and he was off.

“Whoa!” he gasped, arms outstretched for balance, while the water carried him upwards and backwards, towards the sea. He pivoted and widened his stance for stability, while he adjusted to the strange sensation of a rapidly rolling current against his bare feet, and his total loss of control over where he was going.

Despite this, before long, Zuko began to relax, leaning into the waves’ winding motions, feeling a thrill with each dip and jump, as he climbed higher and higher and farther out to sea.

And then – SPLOOSH!

Like a rug being tugged from beneath his feet, the water supporting Zuko vanished, falling back to the sea – along with said fire bender.

He fell into the water in a rather undignified manner, limbs flailing. When he came up for air, spluttering, to his displeasure, just about everyone was doubled-over laughing.

Zuko gritted his teeth as he swam towards shore, glaring at the mischievous water bender.

“Oops,” she said with a shrug, though she didn’t look the least bit sorry.

Well that was a flop… literally, Zuko thought with a grimace as he trudged along the beach and shook water from his soaked hair.

Aang had the decency to try to look apologetic though tears were streaming down his face.

***

“The next activity better not end like that,” Zuko hissed when the boys regrouped. “How about we try something where she has to trust me this time? Because clearly the other way around doesn’t work.”

“Hm. Maybe you can teach everyone something. What are you good at Zuko?” Sokka asked.

“Fire bending.”

“Well, you can’t exactly teach everyone fire bending.”

“Oh, I know!” Aang piped up. “Zuko isn’t a bad dancer. He nailed the Dancing Dragon formation.”

Zuko dismissed the suggestion immediately. “That wasn’t a dance! And you’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever teach dancing lessons.”

A moment of silence passed while all three boys contemplated their next move.

“It’s probably best if I don’t hire another assassin and like… save her from it. Right?”

“Yes, Zuko. Best we table that idea.”

***

Zuko felt a little more confident about the second activity that Aang and Sokka planned for the group.

“We’re going rock climbing!” Aang exclaimed and gesturing to the ropes and makeshift pulleys he and Sokka had fastened to the cliff side earlier. For the most part, in Zuko’s opinion, this activity far exceeded the last because he and Katara would be on relatively even footing as far as their bending was concerned.

“Everybody partner up!” Sokka instructed. “I call working with Suki!”

“And I call Toph!” Aang shouted, which garnered suspicious looks from both Toph and Katara. “I thought we could work on our teamwork?” he added to the earth bender sheepishly.

Toph smirked. “Whatever you say, Twinkletoes. Gosh, I’m popular, huh?”

Through narrowed eyes, Katara directed her attention to the person she was evidently stuck with.

Zuko tried his hardest to seem friendly, though he was suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. “You can go first, if you want,” he offered.

Katara lifted an eyebrow. After a moment, she said, “All right then,” and turned towards the cliff, her braided hair flipping over her shoulder as she did.

The rock climbing ensued, with Toph practically flying up the wall while she bended parts of the cliff side to jut out like stairs. Momo was doing quite well himself from a little further down, not even holding onto the rope, though Appa dutifully spotted him anyways.

Despite not having any distinct advantages, Suki flourished in this activity too, scaling the wall like a ninja. “Atta girl, Suki!” Sokka cheered on from below. She responded with a glowing smile at her rock climbing partner.

Zuko turned his attention to his own rock climbing partner, who was faring well, though not quite as well as the other climbers. Her movements were a little clumsy and she clung to the rope and handholds like her life depended on it. After all, with each step she climbed, the water bender ventured farther away from the comfort of the sea behind them.

There was no way Zuko would let her fall though, considering the death grip he had on her rope. He needed to prove he was the most trustworthy rock climbing partner she could ever have.

Taking a page out of Sokka’s book, Zuko decided to egg his partner on. “You’re doing great!” he called.

Unfortunately, his comment prompted an icy glare. “Are you mocking me?” Katara snapped, as she freed her blue sleeve from a protruding twig that had snagged it.

“No...,” Zuko snarled through gritted teeth.

This is impossible! I can’t even compliment Katara without her getting mad!

She proceeded to climb in silence without sparing him a glance, and Zuko couldn’t think of what to say, so he just sighed and frowned in her general direction.

How on earth was this activity supposed to bring them closer together now?

She’s probably clinging to the rope for dear life because she doesn’t trust me to stop her from falling, Zuko thought with a scowl.

But then he was struck with a brilliant (and morally questionable) idea.

What if Katara’s rope were severed… for some reason… and Zuko caught her?

Now, Zuko was no expert, but saving someone from falling seemed like the ultimate gesture of trust if you asked him.

Surely Aang and Sokka would disprove if Zuko deliberately severed Katara’s rope, but she was maybe only twenty feet up – so surely, even if she did fall, she’d survive.

Before Zuko had properly thought through his plan, he’d sent a barely discernible fireball – no more than a small collection of sparks – up the cliff side. It went undetected by the others, who were focused on their rock climbing tasks.

With the softest of hisses, the fire made contact with the rope about ten feet above Katara’s head. The rope began to fray immediately but no one seemed to notice. Until –

“Whoa!” Katara exclaimed as the rope started to give. She clawed for the nearest handhold and gripped it firmly while looking around with wide eyes.

Now, Zuko thought, dropping the rope and racing towards the cliff.

By now the others were catching on to Katara’s predicament.

“Oh no, careful Katara!” called Aang.

“Hold on!” cried Suki.

“Just drop!” Zuko shouted from below, his arms outstretched. “Don’t worry – I’ll catch you!”

Katara peered down at him, like she was mentally calculating the risk of doing what he asked. When she met his eye, Zuko felt a swell of anticipation for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

Then, something determined entered Katara’s eyes and she directed her gaze beyond him, towards the sea.

The rope snapped and Katara began to fall.

Zuko braced himself for the impact, his arms at the ready.

I won’t let you down!

And then – WHOOSH!

Zuko faced an impact but it wasn’t the one he was expecting.

An aggressive current of water slammed straight into Zuko’s legs, knocking him off his feet.

“What?” he gasped as he lost his footing, toppled sideways, and fell to his back. Spluttering, he watched in disbelief as Katara bended a neat stream of water through the air, stepped into it, and directed it towards the ground to safety. She landed beside Zuko with a splash – soaking him from head to toe.

Katara straightened up and regained her composure, brushing off the front of her blue dress, as the water drifted back out to sea.

She turned to Zuko like she was just noticing him for the first time. “Oh!” she said while extending her hand. “You okay down there?” she asked, eyebrows raised and the slightest mischievous glint in her eye.

Zuko accepted her offer to help him up, but didn’t have it in him to celebrate the kind gesture – he was far too embarrassed and couldn’t meet her eye.

As soon as he was on his feet, he retreated and stomped away. “I’m fine,” he growled while shaking water out of his hair for the second time that day.

***

“The next team building exercise will be different. We’ll use our words this time,” Aang decided during a brief rendezvous with Sokka and Zuko.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zuko asked, eyebrow raised.

“You’ll see – I’ve got a plan. Just make sure you’re sitting beside Katara when we gather round the campfire after dinner. Trust me.” He patted Zuko’s shoulder and flashed him what he probably thought was a reassuring smile, but given their track record with team building exercises thus far, Zuko didn’t feel so confident.

“Fine,” he said anyways because he didn’t have anything to lose.

***

True to his word, after the sun had set, bellies were full, and Aang had summoned everyone to the campfire, Zuko claimed the spot beside Katara, even though he had to wrestle Toph in the process of squeezing in between them.

Katara gave Zuko a weird look and motioned to get up.

He grabbed her sleeve. “Wait – stay here,” he said before he could think better of it (and immediately regretting the motion).

She startled and opened her mouth to respond, but thankfully, Aang chose that moment to command everyone’s attention and start the activity. Zuko released a breath.

It turned out the activity was rather simple. Each person was required to share a compliment about the person on their right – and once everyone had a turn, they were to repeat the exercise in the other direction.

Zuko was skeptical about the cheesy activity having any effect on his relationship with Katara but he figured he might as well try.

He frowned and glanced at Katara, who was on his right, noticing the firelight dancing in her blue eyes. He would have to share a compliment with her first.

I’ve got one shot so I need to think of something good, Zuko mused while absently bending the flames from the campfire into little loops.

His first thought was to comment on her water bending, which was quite good as far as he’d seen. But would that just remind her of the times she’d used her water bending against him?

Then what could he say about her to get her to like him?

It was Sokka’s turn to pay a compliment to Suki.

He turned to the brunette Kyoshi warrior with a wide smile and an arched eyebrow, and said, smoothly, “Suki, you are as radiant as the sunset.”

Suki’s face lit up and her lips curved into a shy smile. “Oh, Sokka,” she sighed and shoving his arm lightly, in a friendly, teasing manner.

That’s it! That’s the reaction I want from Katara, Zuko thought, his chest tightening at the very prospect of it, but would complimenting her physical appearance have that effect on her? He wasn’t sure.

By the time Zuko tuned back in to the activity, Aang was telling Toph that she was the most terrifying girl he’d ever met.

Zuko watched the exchange in anticipation for surely the earth bender would take offense to the remark. But instead, she punched Aang’s arm and beamed. “Thanks, Twinkletoes!”

Would Katara want to be called terrifying? Honestly, Zuko thought she was the farthest thing from terrifying (unless she was really angry). No, Azula was terrifying. And Katara was… well, not like Azula.

Toph turned to Zuko next, gazing up at him with a cheeky smile. “Oh, this is easy. Thanks for the entertainment in the water today. I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks!”

Zuko bristled with anger for a moment, but when he realized everyone was chuckling, and he remembered that he would much rather them find him funny than evil, he swallowed his pride and smiled. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

“Okay, Zuko’s turn!” Aang prompted, and then, suddenly, everyone was starting at him expectantly.

Zuko swallowed. “Okay,” he said before turning towards Katara, whose arms were folded and was watching him from the corner of her eye.

Here goes, Zuko thought. He said the first thing that popped into his head, inspired by Sokka’s earlier success.

“You’re… as beautiful as the… ocean?”

Now, Zuko wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but, strangely, no one seemed to react at all. In fact, the entire group was eerily silent, their eyes trained on him, including Katara’s.

Suddenly, Zuko felt nervous. I did something wrong, didn’t I?

He turned towards Sokka for support, but only then, to Zuko’s horror, did he notice that Sokka and Suki’s hands were clasped together.

Is Suki his… girlfriend?

That hadn’t occurred to Zuko, honestly. He’d dismissed the idea because surely Suki was too good for the guy.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were so close because they were dating. And maybe, by mimicking Sokka’s behaviour, Zuko had inadvertently suggested that he wanted to date Katara.

He felt his face heat up.

I could use some of Uncle’s calming tea right about now.

Then, Katara was on her feet. She avoided eye-contact when she growled, “Really? Don’t have anything to say about my abilities, do you? I’m just some damsel in distress to you, huh?”

And then she stormed off, effectively ending the team building exercise. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

I should have just called her terrifying.

He followed her.

***

Katara was perched on a rock near the ledge of the cliff, overlooking the sea and star-sprinkled night sky. She was hugging her knees and her shoulders were slumped.

Zuko approached with caution. “Hi,” he said when he was within earshot.

Katara glanced at him and turned away quickly.

He sighed.

Why do I suck at everything?

“Um, let me try the compliment thing again,” Zuko mumbled, not sure how much Katara was paying attention to him but going for it anyways. “My uncle taught me how to control lightning using the principles of water bending. I never really thought about water bending much, but since then, and since I saw what you can do, now I appreciate it more. It’s a… beautiful ability. And it’s strong. Like you.

“And that’s… what I’m trying to say.”

Katara glanced at him again, and to his relief, there was something kinder in her eyes.

This encouraged him to continue. “And I’m sorry for everything I did before. Please tell me how to make it up to you because I’m trying but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

After a moment, Katara’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. She turned towards the sea. “You could reconquer Ba Sing Se in the name of the Earth King. Or bring my mother back,” she said sadly with a humourless chuckle, like what she was proposing was ridiculous. She buried her face into her knees.

Later that evening, after a brief consultation with Sokka about the story of his mother’s death, Zuko made plans for what would end up being the most effective team building exercise yet.

***

Many days later, Zuko found himself standing on a dock overlooking the ocean and a sunset painting the sky a glowing medley of pinks and oranges.

He had just returned to camp after a long trek with Katara to track down her mother’s killer, with the intention of executing revenge, but Katara ended up sparing him in the end – while still finding the closure she needed.

Zuko had learned more about Katara’s motivations and abilities on the trip, including her impressive repertoire of water bending feats.

To put it frankly, Zuko had no shortage of compliments to give her if they ever played that campfire circle game again.

And now that he understood Katara better he was filled with hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hate him anymore. Though he wasn’t completely sure.

Katara was sitting at the end of the dock with her toes dipped in the water. Aang was beside her and speaking about the importance of forgiveness.

She got to her feet and faced the two of them. “Thanks Aang, but I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him.”

And then she turned towards Zuko, a smile blossoming on her face. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat.

“But you,” she said and drawing closer, “I am willing to forgive.”

Before he knew quite what was happening, Katara pulled him into a tight hug. Zuko was startled at first – hardly able to believe what was happening.

I did it! he thought in awe, thinking back to how envious he had been of Suki jumping into Sokka’s arms on the beach.

He smiled in spite of himself and returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, his heart racing.

But then, abruptly, Katara retreated. She stared at Zuko from a short distance away, looking positively radiant in the light of the sunset. A strange expression crossed her features. Embarrassment? Anxiousness? Zuko wasn’t sure. But then –

“I’m not flirting or anything, you know,” she said.

Not… what?

Katara seemed to remember that her hands were still on Zuko’s shoulders and pulled them back quickly. “I forgive you and that’s – that’s it!”

Zuko was still processing her words when she scurried past him, down the dock.

He gaped at her retreating form. “What was that about?” he asked.

Aang, who had been hanging back from the exchange, approached. One of his eyebrows was distinctly twitching. “Well, after the team building exercise around the campfire, everyone thinks that you… well, you know.”

Oh.

Zuko put his head in his hands, face burning. Something told him he was going to need a lot of help, and maybe even a new round of team building exercises, to figure out this new development in his and Katara’s relationship.

#zutara week 2020 #zutara week #zutara #zutara fanfiction #atla fanfic #zuko #atla #wolf08fic #my first atla fic #loved every second writing this

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sophierose002 · 5 years ago

Text

The Real Mindtrap

Requested by @silentwriter28

Warning for some violence

I kind of went a little crazy with this. What was supposed to be around 2,000 words turned into over 9,000. There were just so many aspects of Quirin and Varian’s relationship that I wanted to explore. Please enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

The Real MindTrap

Varian gasped upon hearing the shouts of panic coming from the opposite side of the vast throne room. I wasn’t even gone that long! He thought, as frustration ticked like a clock inside his brain. “I’ll be right back!” He hurriedly, yet gently, said to his father, who was lying peacefully still. After Varian’s stunning mechanism had overcharged Quirin’s mind into unconsciousness, the young alchemist had situated his father comfortably in the corner of the throne room. I should have known something like this would happen! It was so foolish for me to leave that machine unsupervised. Varian bit his lip in fear as he sprinted towards the chaotic screams. I bet it was Lance; he never listens to my warnings! He knew he was an over-the-top organizing freak, but he had better reason then most to be an insufferable “safety first” individual. He had had “accidents” in the past with unforgettable consequences. Even though he had moved on and the world seemed to forgive him, he still suffered from chilling nightmares and random panic attacks. Most of these he managed to keep hidden from his friends, but they still lingered in the back of his mind. He could see it in his shadow, like a ghost haunting him.

Still, he couldn’t afford a mistake right now!

Zhan Tiri wasn’t going to mess up, so he couldn’t either. He couldn’t let anyone down. Not again.

By the time Varian’s short legs had reached the opposite side of the throne room, the bright colors had vanished inside the portal to Limbo. “Lance?” The alchemist breathlessly asked for his friend who was no where in sight. Suddenly, a deep weight slammed down inside his chest as dread threatened to crush him to the floor. “No, no, no, no.” He chanted softly to himself hoping that his voice would keep him grounded in reality. “This isn’t happening!” Reaching the machine, Varian actively scaned the massive portal desperately searching for an explanation.

That’s when he saw it.

The lever. It had been moved. Subconsciously, the young alchemist swallowed a nervous gulp of air. Gone, they’re all gone. I can’t mess this up. No! I won’t mess this up. I can get them back. Unfortunately, Varian had been short on time and had only focused on how to get the warlock into the portal, not on how to get anyone out.

Without Ruddiger’s presence to steady the alchemist, he felt a deep, hollow pit form in his stomach. Determination prickled his brow as he dropped to his knees. All of Corona was in an alternate dimension, and he was the only person who could fix this. Tightening his fingers around a wrench to the point that his knuckles turned white underneath his gloves, Varian took a controlled breath before getting to work.

He wasn’t sure if pulling the lever would get them out in one piece. It was also possible that instead of freeing the people of Corona, he would be sucked in the portal, leaving their situation completely hopeless. He had to figure this out. With his free hand, Varian reached for the Demantis plans.

After studying and comparing his work with the instructions (or rather guidelines) Varian’s clever mind put the pieces of the puzzle together. It was possible to reverse the portal. It wouldn’t be easy, but he could do it.

Immediately diving into his work, Varian became submerged in his tweaking and tinkering. In other words, he didn’t notice the ferocious warrior creeping up behind him. It wasn’t until his shadow loomed over the small scientist, that he noticed the man. Whirling around just in time to dodge an outstretched arm, Varian dove out of Hector’s reach before scrambling to his feet and clutching the wrench as if it were his lifeline.

Why didn’t I bring my combat belt? Varian was furious with himself. How had he been so unprepared?!? He was fighting for all of Corona and instead of bringing his alchemical weapons and potions, he relied on everyone else to keep him safe. He should have prepared for the worse. Now, he was going to pay the price.

After slapping himself mentally for this unreadiness, he dashed away from his work. All would be lost if Hector damaged the portal. Leading the brainwashed warrior away from the valuable machine, Varian sprinted to the other side of the throne room. Maybe, just maybe his father would be in an able condition to help him; however, when he reached the corner, the blankets that were laid out for Quirin were empty.

Oh no! After the shock of his father’s disappearance settled, Varian noticed that he was slowly being backed into a wall.

Hector was trapping him!

Varian knew that any attempt to talk Hector out of attacking him would be useless. He hadn’t known that the Brotherhood even existed until a few months ago. In fact, the only thing Varian knew about Hector - other than him being part of the secretive Brotherhood - was his name.

Despite his lack of knowledge, Varian found himself speaking. His options were shrinking and becoming more hopeless with every passing moment. Perhaps speaking up would buy him some time. Every second was vital to the brilliant alchemist. He just needed to come up with an idea and quick! “Mr. Hector, please! You fought with my dad. He’s fond of you; he wouldn’t want you to hurt me!”

The unnaturally blue-eyed man slightly hesitated before speaking, briefly halting his steps. “So, you’re Varian?” It was more of a statement rather than a question. Varian hadn’t noticed the hint of surprise in Hector’s facial expression until it had straightened into one of indifference. Within seconds, the warrior had returned his menacingly brisk pace towards the boy.

Luckily for Varian, his sharp mind had come up with a plan. Before his back could be pressed against the wall, the young alchemist rushed to one of the tapestries that was majestically hung up, ripped it from it’s decorative position, and managed to throw it over Hector at the correct angle, wrapping him in it. While the warrior was thrashing under the ginormous tapestry, Varian made a run for it.

Eugene, where are you? The distressed alchemist knew that he had to find the former thief. If the brainwashed warrior could be distracted just long enough for Varian to reverse the portal, they might still stand a chance in this fight. Rapunzel was undoubtably searching for Cassandra that meant the only reason Eugene wouldn’t return soon was if Zhan Tiri…

Varian didn’t want to think about it.

The alchemist was charging towards the throne room’s exit. Maximus was guarding outside. He just had to get to the door. He was so close.

Four more steps.

Three.

Two.

One–

Varian’s gloved hand hovered over the handle before being violently pulled back. Expecting to see Hector’s maniacally face, the alchemist swung the wrench directly at the figure. Of course, his untrained muscles were no match for the burly hands, which gripped the tool easily, yanking it out of his grasp. Before Varian could get a good look at the attacker, he felt a sturdy knee slam into his gut. Doubling over as an unexpected pain overcame his abdomen, the boy urgently fought to regain air in his lungs but found it incredibly difficult to do so. When the boy raised his head, his vision was slightly blurry. Assuming that he must have been hit harder than he realized, Varian could have sworn that Hector looked identical to his father.

Wait.

“Dad...?” There was so much hurt and anguish in the small, squeaky voice.

Quirin looked emotionlessly at his son as he dropped the tiny body, allowing it to crumble to the floor. The broad-shouldered man was no longer wearing his helmet. His genuine brown eyes had transformed into a spine-chilling, light blue. The bright color was abnormal. Varian couldn’t fight the wetness circulating in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the fierce aching in his lungs or the shock of seeing that his father had caused it.

“Please, Dad, I know you’re in th-” A strong kick to the face interrupted the boy’s pleas. Everything was moving so quickly. Too quickly. Before Varian knew it, his father had gripped him behind the collar and dragged him effortlessly away from the door.

Even though the injured genius was overwhelmed, he knew one thing: Maximus was outside the throne room door. “Max, help!”

That’s all the young alchemist needed to do to alert the calvary.

Varian’s head was pounding, and his peripheral vision was fuzzy. The sweet comfort of sleep was edging into his vision. I ha- have to st-ay a-awake-

A black blanket smothered the young alchemist who had suddenly become tired. Unable to prevent the darkness that flooded into his brain, Varian slumped against his father’s rough hand. Dropping into a numb state, the last thing he heard was a piercing sound of a door opening and a vicious neigh that resembled a battle cry.

*****

Varian couldn’t stop gripping his hair and pulling it until it hurt his head. He had to find some sort of relief from the emotional pain overwhelming him. It was too much. Throughout the entirety of his time in prison, Varian secretly feared what would happen if he did free his father. He would have to tell him everything that happened. More precisely, what he had done. Would his father forgive him just like the princess had?

No. He’s too strict. Varian had guessed. It was so difficult to breath. His short, shallow inhales were becoming more and more difficult to control. I can’t do this. The young alchemist chanted like a mantra in his mind. Rapunzel had graciously offered to stay with him as he told his father, but Varian explained that he had to do this himself. “Dad might feel pressured to side with me if you’re here, and I need to know his honest answer. No matter how painful it is.”

Hardly able to believe it, Varian stared at his father who was now free from his amber prison. They were sitting at their dinning room table. There was a flickering candle at the center of the wooden surface, which instead of being comforting, added to Varian’s anxiety. It was a dark night. After everyone celebrated Princess Rapunzel’s return that day, Varian and Quirin had returned to their home in Old Corona.

It was a mess. Quirin had so many question, most of them being sparked by the aftermath of the Battle of Old Corona, which had not been cleaned up yet; however, he had impressive self-control and had promised to wait till that night to ask Varian his questions. His son deserved one enjoyable day.

But that day was over now, and the two were sitting across from each other, holding mugs with hot coco, which Ruddiger had made. Quirin wanted to know why their home and all of Old Corona seemed to be deserted and left to rot. If Varian wasn’t living at the house, then where had he been staying for the last seven months? Several things were not adding up, and Quirin found his vigilant calmness to spike with anticipation. It wasn’t helping that his son was insufferably stalling to explain anything.

Quirin loved his son - but right now - he was annoying him to no end.

Something very important had happened, and he needed to know.

“So, I guess I should start at the beginning, huh?” Varian’s voice was cracking more than usual.

Quirin nodded in response, avoiding any interruptions as he knew his son would eagerly welcome them and go off topic.

“About seven months ago, during the blizzard, I asked the princess for help.” The tense boy took a moment to slow his breathing before continuing. “Corona was in a state of emergency, and - long story short - she was unable to help me.”

Quirin had expected that. Their family was beneath the royals. Even though the princess had seemingly befriended his son, it wasn’t her priority nor her duty to personally help them over the kingdom.

But, of course, fourteen-year-old Varian didn’t understand that at the time. To him, a promise was a promise.

“The thing was,” His son continued, holding his mug to hide his shaking hands, “I was desperate and the guards mistook me for attac- I mean, I was wasting the princess’s precious time during the middle of a crisis. So, they dragged me, well not exactly, they brought me out of the castle and left me in the snow.”

Quirin knew his son. When you only lived with one person it was natural to be overly observant and memorize each of their tics and fidgets, so it wasn’t very hard for Quirin to realize that his son was lying to him. “Varian.” It was a warning. Tell me the truth. His brown eyes commanded.

“Uh, well they didn’t ‘bring’ me out of the castle. They kinda, sorta dragged me out against my will and threw me into the blizzard.”

Quirin nodded, his face remaining stern.

Varian felt like he could throw up. His father’s expressions and hardness weren’t making this any easier. “Everyone was evacuating, but I came home. When I got there you- you were-” Varian choked. Hoping to hide how upset it was to relive these memories, he brought the hot coco to his lips.

Watching his son’s attempt to seem unbothered by the whole matter would have been comical if it was a different situation, but Quirin found himself becoming more impatient by the minute. He was struggling to feel empathy for his son, mainly because he didn’t know what was wrong. Despite these feelings, Quirin couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with concern.

After placing the mug on the table, Varian found it impossible to stare at his father as he continued, “I was broken when I found you like that.” His voice was so soft it held an eerie ghostliness to it. “I was so upset, but it’s hard to explain. My sorrow turned into this– anger.”

Something about the way he said the final word caused Quirin to sit up straighter.

“Dad, it was so- so- I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I couldn’t stop it. I was furious with myself and the princess for turning her back on me. I wanted to make her pay for abandoning me.” The boy’s blue eyes were glossy as he sunk into his nightmarish memories becoming detached from reality. It was as if he had forgotten his father’s presence. “It wasn’t that she didn’t stick to her word that made me so mad. It was because she left me. She didn’t check on me! It was like she didn’t care! Maybe I’m a fool for trusting her again, but I was so tired of being everyone’s enemy!”

“Son, slow down!” Quirin had to put a stop to Varian’s indecipherable train of thought.

“Sorry.” The boy felt tears prickle in his eyes, but he fought to push them back. No! He wouldn’t cry. He needed to be strong. “Rapunzel left me by myself for an entire month! During that time alone, I- I-” There was a slight pause before his shaky voice finished, “Something in me snapped. I was so desperate to save you. So desperate not to lose you! I couldn’t! Because it would be my fault! And I couldn’t live with myself if-” This time, the young alchemist was incapable of continuing as an unexpected sob escaped his throat. It was odd that he was crying and yet no tears fluttered in his eyes.

Quirin didn’t know what to do as he watched his son cave in on himself. The boy was obviously traumatized, but he didn’t know how to comfort him. The tough man never understood the importance of physical touch. Whenever one of the members of the Brotherhood was upset, he would stay with them. Sometimes the warrior would vent to him, and other times they simply needed someone else’s presence to know that they weren’t alone.

But this was different.

This was a fifteen-year-old child who’s hurt went far deeper than some mature fighter. He was inexperienced to this kind of pain and loneliness. The boy had no one for God knows how long! How was he supposed to help his son in this situation? Quirin decided on staying silent. He didn’t want to do anything to make Varian worse, so doing nothing and just allowing his presence to calm the boy was the best he could do.

Upon noticing the stiff man’s reaction, Ruddiger lowered his tail in concern before scampering to his boy. Climbing up the chair with ease, the raccon nuzzled his head into Varian’s chest and let out a soft, heartening chitter as if to say, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Somehow the raccoon had given the alchemist just enough strength to keep going. “I had never felt so alone before. A rumor that I had attacked the princess had spread throughout Corona. Of course, there was no proof, but that didn’t stop anyone from throwing rocks at me whenever I showed my face in public. I knew I had to take matters into my own hands because no help was coming, so I did something really, really bad.” Varian’s hands began to tremble against the mug, so he dropped them into his lap, hiding them in Ruddiger’s consoling fur. “I tricked Rapunzel into committing treason, stole the Sundrop flower, and drugged the entire castle’s staff. My experiments on the Sundrop flower were illegal and unsuccessful.” The young alchemist rushed through his words, hoping to get it over with. Guilt repeatedly stabbed his stomach, and he kept his eyes firmly on Ruddiger’s reassuring one’s, not daring to look at his father.

He could already imagine the disappointment on his face.

Instead, Quirin’s lips parted as he suddenly lost control of his facial muscles. He knew something bad had happened, but nothing near as drastic as this! Despite his desire to the opposite, he kept himself from asking questions or reprimanding the boy. Something inside of him suspected (and feared) that the worst was yet to come.

“After being announced as an enemy of the king, I found out that the power I needed to free you was inside of Rapunzel. The only way that I could possibly get to use her hair, was to do it forcefully. I- I convinced myself that since everyone saw me as the ‘bad guy,’ I had to play the part. I turned Ruddiger into a monster, tricked the kingdom into thinking I wanted to harm them, and-” The next words would have caused Quirin to yell at his son if it wasn’t for the obvious suffering and regret lingering in the boy’s voice. “I kidnapped the queen.”

It took all of Quirin’s willpower to contain his emotions and let his son finish.

“I used her to lure Rapunzel to my lab. Then, I made these ancient robots, called automatons, to fight the people of Corona.”

As the boy painstakingly continued his story, Quirin somehow knew certain things Varian said, he had never told to anyone before. Things like how he was frightened of the king, so he continued to mock him and pretend to be someone else in order to feel more comfortable in his skin. It was easier to do bad things when you were posing to be someone else. Things like how emotionless he felt as he watched the amber hungrily reach its nasty fingers towards the queen, and how disturbed he was by his own heartlessness. Things like how his rage and bitterness towards Rapunzel was simply a way of coping with how much he hated himself.

Varian was disgusted with his actions and that guilt was eating him from the inside out.

“I was in prison for six months while the princess was away.” Abruptly, the alchemist stopped speaking as if wondering if he should tell his father what happened during that time.

Quirin tried to get more information out of his son, but it was like trying to climb up a slide. Eventually, he gave up.

“Let’s just say,” Varian clutched his raccoon closely to his chest, “Let’s just say, if it wasn’t for Ruddiger, I don’t think I would be here.”

While Varian explained his mistake about opening up to Andrew, Quirin noticed that neither of them had hardly drank any of their hot coco. Both drinks were cold by now, and the candle between them had lowered a great deal. The starlight night dragged on and a certain coldness settled in.

This wasn’t the first time, Quirin felt detached from his son. They never shared a strong connection, but they pretended that they had a solid bond – or at least Quirin thought they had pretended. He never knew how much Varian adored him.

Varian was such an unusual child, and Quirin privately resented him for it. The boy was always different and was nothing like the respectable village leader. Quirin knew he wasn’t father material, but his wife had wanted a child more than anything. Naturally, he thought he could do this with her by his side.

But when she died–

It was just father and son.

It was perfect versus eccentric.

It was stern versus chaotic.

It was safety versus danger.

It was father versus son.

Quirin’s greatest fear had come true. He was a successful leader, an incredible role model, but a failure of a father. He had let Varian down. He had led his son astray.

He had to fix this!

“I- I thought if I could make them forget everything, then they would forgive me. But of course, it’s not that easy.” Varian still had not looked up at his father.

“You wanted forgiveness.” Quirin said more to himself than to his son.

At his father’s voice, the alchemist cautiously peaked up, “Yeah, revenge doesn’t quite have the desired effect like most people thought.”

“Who’s ‘most people?’”

“The- the other pri-prisoners.”

“Oh.” That was all he could bring himself to say. He could sense that questioning his son made him more nervous (if the stuttering was any indication) but there were so many questions he was yearning to ask. Still, he had to wait patiently. The story was nearing its end.

Once Varian explained the prison break, Rapunzel’s return, and the Seporian’s betrayal, he noticed his father for the first time. It was like a war was going on inside the brawny man. It was Quirin’s turn to avoid eye contact now.

The man’s thoughts were preoccupied with the exact moment when he was freed from the amber. Quirin was proud that Varian had found a way to save him at the time, but now that he knew the entire story, was he really proud? The truth: no. His son had a long way to go to make up for his mistakes and actions, but he couldn’t stand by and watch his son take on this journey alone. No. It was high time that he played an active role in his son’s life. Quirin wasn’t proud of himself. He had failed his family. In fact, he was one of the many reasons that had led to his Varian’s fall. The road ahead would be far from smooth and would tread deep into Varian’s scars, more than likely adding salt to some of his wounds. Things would get worse before they would get better.

But they would get better.

“Varian, we need to promise to each other, right here, right now, that we will not keep secrets from one another. We need to be on the same page because what’s coming isn’t going to be easy. I’ve made mistakes in my life Varian. Some I haven’t told you about and some I haven’t admitted to anyone – even myself. That changes today. No more secrets from either of us. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They would do this together. As a team.

*****

An excruciating pain ripped Varian out of his unconscious state like a page being torn from a library book. The second light entered his sensitive, baby blue eyes, the boy tried to raise his hand to shade his face but found that his wrists wouldn’t budge. Turning around, Varian’s eyes widened when he noticed that his wrists were mercilessly wrapped in a rope, which was irritating his skin. Where am I? The young alchemist urgently strived to regain his thoughts. Wherever he was, it was still in the castle because the rocks were still decorating the floors and walls, sticking their indestructible, black fangs into the building. His face stung where he had been kicked previously. Groaning at the nausea swirling in his stomach, Varian bit his lip in an attempt to keep the sickness at bay.

There was a faint sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The alchemist twisted his arms in a weak effort to escape but found that it was hopeless to break free of the secure bonds. The door swung open with such force that the air whistled. “Dad.” There was a certain trepidation to his tone – almost like he had suspected who the figure would be but was still heartbroken at the reveal. “Dad, please this isn’t you!”

It was like Quirin couldn’t hear him. With daunting brutality, the larger man advanced purposefully towards his son who he appeared unable to recognize. Roughly and heartlessly, he hauled Varian to his feet. The boy would have fallen back down if it had not been for the sturdy, yet cruel, support of his father. The alchemist’s shaky legs wobbled on the ground as the room continued to spin. Violently pushing the boy in front of him, Quirin remained silent.

“Dad, please. We’re supposed to be a team. We made a deal to always support each other. You don’t want to do this!”

Apparently, speaking wasn’t allowed as Quirin slammed his knee into his son’s rib cage. Varian fell to the ground, vomiting what was left in his stomach. Nausea overwhelmed his entire being and his conflicted emotions exhausted the boy. “Help me–” He whispered before falling into darkness.

*****

Quirin whistled as he pushed a wheelbarrow that contained juicy, freshly picked apples. Smiling from ear to ear, the leader of Old Corona greeted the villagers he passed, knowing each and every one of their names. Old Corona was still in the process of being repaired, but everyone’s enthusiasm to remake their homes spread a contagious joy. Even Varian had helped Quirin during this time.

Trying to relate to his son, Quirin had asked, “Do you have any inventions that could help?”

“Yes, but I think I’ll just do it by hand. I don’t think I can afford another accident.” Had been the answer. “Besides, you can never be too careful.”

Understanding his son’s overcautiousness, he decided not to push the matter, instead he enjoyed the grueling hours of work the two had done together.

Quirin was a quick learner. People knew he was a good man; however, they often overlooked his intelligence. Yes, in comparison to his son he wasn’t anything special, but compared to the average person, he had an impressive sharpness to him. It didn’t take long for the man to realize that leaving his son alone, was not an option. It wasn’t that the boy couldn’t be trusted by himself; it was the villagers couldn’t be trusted around the unprotected boy.

It seemed after several months of trying to redeem himself, the people of Corona were rigid in their acidity towards the alchemist. Forgiveness wasn’t an easy thing, especially for people who thought he was fully in the wrong.

There were several occasions that Quirin had found his son crying in secret. Varian struggled to share his emotions. It was clear to his father how desperate Varian was to seem fine with everyone’s rude comments towards him, but sometimes it was too much for the young child. He was his worst critic and having everyone else never give him a break–

Quirin sighed. His son deserved better than this.

Luckily, Rapunzel was helping him. The only time Varian ever left the house on his own was when Rapunzel would come by and convince him to. The first time Varian had left, he came back with exciting stories about a cursed treasure, friendly competitiveness, and a new friend. Quirin was overjoyed to learn that Xavier and Varian had warmed up to each other. Since that day, Varian would occasionally visit the blacksmith, always returning with a smile and with new invigorating tales to tell.

It was good to see his son have a chance to be a kid.

There was another time when Rapunzel invited Ruddiger and him to help two young girls reform. Kiera and Catalina were thrilled to have an ex-convict help them finish their last step on their journey to redemption. Of course, they ridiculed him in a joking manner, but by the end, Varian found himself becoming quite fond of the two girls. They had done wrong too and were trying to turn their lives around just like him. He was in so much deeper, but he still enjoyed helping someone else. When Varian returned, he was obviously touched by the whole endeavor; unfortunately, it had brought several unsettling memories to the front of his mind.

Despite seeming refreshed by his adventure, he had woken up in the middle of the night screaming.

Quirin’s heart broke upon seeing his son’s frantic movements, his shivering, and his hands clinging to Ruddiger as if he were an infant and the raccoon his mother. Sitting on the side of the bed, Quirin watched as his son trembled with sobs. He wanted to help him but had no idea how. The two sat silently using each other’s company to comfort one another. After the weeping had stopped and turned into dry heaves, Quirin gingerly asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The boy shook his head, “I thi- think I’ll just go back to sleep.”

Nodding, Quirin tucked his son in bed before leaving the room, feeling defeated and useless. He didn’t know what to do, which bothered him to no end. That night, unbeknown to the small family, neither father nor son slept.

This morning, Quirin took in a deep breath of fresh air, enjoying the sweetness of the outdoors. It wasn’t until he noticed his son standing in the doorway to their home that he hollered up a greeting. “Morning, Son!”

Varian managed a smile but turned to his raccoon who was comfortably set on his shoulder. “What is it, Buddy?” He asked.

As the two ran off, Quirin continued his work, wondering what he could do to help his son. The sweat droplets that had formed on Varian’s forehead and the boy’s messy hair were both symptoms of the aftermath of a nightmare. I hope he’s okay. Quirin thought to himself. Parking the wheelbarrow further down the road, the protective father made his way back to Varian who looked like he was preparing to leave.

“Where are you headed, Son?”

“Oh-heh- hi, Dad!” The alchemist seemed a bit surprised over his father’s sudden presence. “Yeah, I’m headed to the capitol to visit Xavier. I- I mean if it’s okay with you?” His voice curled into a question as he asked his father for permission.

“Of course, just be back in time to complete your chores.”

“Okay, I will!”

This was the first time Varian had asked to go to Corona on his own. Unsure of how he felt about this, Quirin decided to let the matter go. Perhaps, this was exactly what the boy needed.

Later that day…

It was almost evening and Quirin was starting to get worried. Word that several strange red rocks had appeared in the capital had reached Old Corona. Unable to leave the village, Quirin excruciatingly waited for his son to return. Dread gripped at his heart as he wondered if Varian would be okay.

If anyone had the right to be afraid, it would be him.

This wasn’t a pleasant thought in the slightest. My duties as village leader should not outweigh my job as a father. He tried to convince himself of the fact. Compassion didn’t come naturally for the man, but he knew the importance of keeping his only family safe. The usually decisive man struggled with this thought. Finally settling on going to the capital, Quirin temporarily put one of his trusted friends in charge before rushing off to Corona.

He noticed the red rocks right away; however, before they had any effect on him, they slithered back into the ground like a serpent fleeing from God’s sight. What is going on? He questioned. It seemed like forever until he reached his destination. The citizens all seemed like they were recovering from a good scare, but they still smiled upon seeing the Old Corona leader.

“Quirin, old friend! Did you hear the news?” Xavier waved from outside his smithy.

“Xavier!” The man greeted the pleasant blacksmith. Where’s Varian? He said he would be here! Keeping his thoughts to himself, Quirin allowed his friend to finish his thought.

“Your son is quite the hero!” The blacksmith couldn’t stop grinning.

“Varian?” He wondered if he was hearing correctly or if he had another son that he was unaware of.

“Ah, yes! He saved Corona from the red rocks! The princess said so herself!”

So many thoughts spiraled like a tornado inside his mind, “Where is he?” He decided to ask.

Before Xavier could point, a young voice called out. “Dad? What are you doing here?” Quirin was so relieved to see his son that he didn’t notice Ruddiger’s absence.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, no, I’m fine! I’m better than fine actually.” A genuine smile sparkled off of Varian’s young face. He seemed exhausted but clearly high on adrenaline.

“Good. I’m glad.” Quirin couldn’t find the right words to say.

“Before we go home, I need to find Ruddiger!” Varian scratched the back of his neck idly. “He should be fine, but I want to make sure he can get home.”

“Okay.” Quirin suddenly noticed that he was out of breath.

“Goodbye, Xavier!” The boy waved before leading the way to the center of the capital.

As the two walked side by side, Varian explained to his father what had happened. It was terrifying, but therapeutic. A strange combination to Quirin, but he gently smiled and listened to his son’s excitement.

“If it weren’t for Rapunzel I’d be-” His son’s tone shifted so swiftly that it caught Quirin off guard. “Ruddiger!” Upon finding his boy, the chubby raccoon chittered happily and climbed up Varian’s shoulder. “Hehe, good to see you, Buddy!” Before the reunion could get any cuter, a piercing noise came from behind them.

Quirin remained tranquil as Feldspar thanked Varian for the previous events. For the first time in a while, Quirin was proud of his son.

He wanted to show it to him… but how?

“Just doing my part.” Varian watched as the odd man walked off. Ruddiger nuzzled into Varian which made him giggle.

That’s when an idea struck him. Hesitantly at first, Quirin placed his hand firmly on Varian’s shoulder. When the boy turned to look at his father, Quirin immediately thought he had made a mistake. His son looked surprised at the physical touch, but then his expression melted into a shy grin.

Varian’s heart fluttered in his chest. He had craved for physical touch for so long! Now that he had it, he wasn’t sure he liked it. He didn’t know if it was making him uncomfortable or at ease. He honestly couldn’t tell the difference at this time. Little did he know the next big step in their relationship was about to take place: reaching his muscular arms around his son, for the first time, Quirin embraced Varian.

Silently, both father and son decided that physical touch… it wasn’t so bad.

*****

When the young alchemist awoke, he nearly yelped at the face inches away from his own.

“Shhh! Kid, I’m trying to get you out of here.” Eugene’s handsome features were tense with nerves. He was hurriedly untying Varian’s wrists. Maximus was standing guard over their shoulders. “Listen, kid, my father… he’s part of the Brotherhood just like Quirin. In order to stop them we have to destroy the Mindtrap which I’m fairly certain is in Cassandra’s creepy tower.”

Feeling a release of tension behind his back, Varian was able to move his hands in front of him, rubbing the rope burns gingerly. His nausea had subsided; however, his throbbing headache had worsened greatly. Understanding that it was time to move, the young alchemist managed to push himself to his feet. Eugene grabbed his shoulders the moment he noticed the boy sway. “You okay?”

“Ye-yeah, just lightheaded, that’s all.” Came the shaky reply.

Eugene led his injured friend towards Max’s back, and the horse, upon seeing Varian’s serious state, lowered itself so the boy could climb up. Curling his fingers into the horse’s mane, Varian leaned forwards as he felt Eugene’s arms wrap around him. “Hold on, kid!”

As the three raced out into the night, the air cracked and whipped against their faces, stinging their skin and rushing their ears. The eclipse above illuminated across the broken plains creating a tense environment and sense of urgency. Aside from Max’s rhythmic steps, the air was completely silent as if all the birds were afraid to sing and the crickets were too nervous to string their violins. Varian couldn’t fight the feeling like they were inside a timer. They were trying to climb up to the top, but the sand was ruthlessly falling down on them, making everything – moving, thinking, and breathing – more difficult.

So many thoughts rattled through his tortured mind. I have to save, Dad, but how can I break him from the Mindtrap? He obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing, because he would never hurt me. Even though he’s a stern man, he’s not hateful. He always drew the line with physical abuse that’s why he never touched or hugged me before; he was afraid he would lose control. This isn’t just my worst nightmare, this is his! He’s not trapped in the stone; he’s trapped in his own mind!

“Varian?” Eugene’s concerned voice rose over the wind, “You haven’t spoken in a while, which is kinda unusual for you.”

The alchemist took a moment to steady his breathing. “Let’s save our family.” The boy whispered with determination.

“Sounds good to me!” The former thief’s confident reply added to their adrenaline.

This was going to be an unforgettable night.

*****

The moment Varian returned home, Quirin knew something was horribly wrong. His son was trembling and keeping his eyes on the floor as if he had something to hide. Quirin was good at picking out when Varian was trying to keep a secret, but this? It was like part of his son was dying to come clean and the other half dreaded it.

Odd.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t come home at all the following day. Quirin had been asking around the capital and Old Corona for his son, but it appeared he had simply gone missing. He trusted his son and expected that there was a valid reason for him not coming home at all, but it was going on two days now and recentl, Ruddiger had returned to their home without his master. Varian had been working long hours in the Demanitus Chamber trying to decipher the scroll for the last four – almost five – weeks. It was an important job, and they both took it very seriously. Quirin was accustomed to his son coming home late, but this? By the position of the moon, it was far past midnight. Quirin idly paced back and forth knowing full well that sleep was useless. He was just about to head to the capital, when he heard the front door open.

Even though his son looked perfectly fine physically, he had an unusual paleness to him. His freckles were more prominent against his ghostly white skin, and dark circles had formed under his eyes. A burnt smell wafted through the air, but his clothes seemed relatively clean. What is going on? The man wondered.

Immediately, once Varian put his backpack on the kitchen table, Quirin raced towards his son and embraced him. Gratefully, the boy melted into his father’s chest. The leader of Old Corona could feel his son’s exhaustion and gradually helped him to his bedroom. As they walked, Quirin put his bare hand into his son’s hair, brushing through the dirt and grime, and gently taking his goggles off. This entire time, neither spoke. Once the two reached the alchemist’s bedroom, Varian took off his gloves and apron, and Quirin placed his son’s goggles on the dresser. When Varian finally sat down on his bed, he kept his eyes low to the ground.

“I missed you.” Quirin decided to start the conversation with a sweet sentiment. The Lord knows it’s all going to go downhill from here. Quirin muttered soundlessly to himself.

“I missed you too.” Varian gripped one of his arms, hugging himself. Quirin identified this as another sign of discomfort.

“Varian, why are you so late?”

“I was helping Rapunzel celebrate Eugene’s first birthday.” The boy’s ungloved hands clenched his upper arm tightly. There was a brief pause before Varian dug his nails mercilessly into his flesh.

“Varian!” Quirin rushed towards his son, taking his hand away from his shoulder in shock. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly finding his bed very interesting, Varian lowered his face and allowed his midnight black bangs and blue stripe of hair to fall into his face. Not putting up with a moody teenager, Quirin brushed his son’s hair out of his face before letting out a soft gasp.

His son was in tears.

Varian’s face contorted with excruciating intensity almost like he was being abused. “Dad, please,” His voice cracked, “Don’t ask me any questions!”

“But, Varian, something is clearly wrong and-”

“Just wait until tomorrow. Please!” His son begged as more painful tears steamed down his cheeks. “Just, not now!” Varian clenched his hands into fits hoping to find someway to relieve the pressure.

Normally, Quirin would listen to his son, but red lights were going off in the back of his mind. “I’m sorry, Varian, but I can’t do that.”

A look of pure horror washed over Varian’s tear stained face.

“Varian, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Was the quick response. Within a second, however, the boy convulsed violently before rapidly stringing words together, “I got drugged with the truth serum that I made almost a year ago to trick the guards into telling me where the Sundrop flower was.” Once the last word escaped his lips, the boy withdrew his hands from his father’s grasp and covered his mouth. Briefly, his body relaxed almost with something like relief; however, it was short-lived as he stiffened up again.

Quirin felt a rush of something between a protective hostility and emotional wariness bubble in his chest. “Who?”

“Dad, please!”

“Who did this to you!?!” His voice raised in volume and took control of the situation as more tears tracked out of his son’s eyes. It was clear that his son was struggling to keep his mouth shut.

He groaned and protested, but was unable to stop the drug, “Cassandra. She kidnapped me, knocked me unconscious, and held me prisoner in her tower for two days.” He rubbed his red and puffy eyes

“Did she hurt you?”

“No- ugh, yes.” He continued to wince in agony, “She hit me with some of the black rocks, and then I fell out of the tower, but it’s okay; Lance caught me.” Before he could stop himself, Varian explained all of Quirin’s questions about the previous days. Some of the kind-hearted boy��s thoughts were loving and sweet, while others were of a genuine fear. “I thought I was going to die, when Cassie, uh, Cassandra brought Eugene and I back into her tower. I mean, she was attacking everyone, and I’d never seen her so furious. She looked like she was capable of anything – just like I did when I was the villain.” The last part of his sentence was hushed and sincere. “Dad, I know where she’s coming from, and I want to help her.”

“I know, son. I know.”

Varian leaned against his father and allowed Ruddiger, who had randomly lumbered into the bedroom, to snuggle into his lap. As the night continued to pass, wounds began to heal, and trauma found its ways into the shadows and out of the light. Quirin realized that the boy was becoming drowsy and less reactive. Whether it was the aftermath of the drug or the excitement losing its effect, Varian found his limbs becoming impossible to move as it seemed they had gained several pounds. Quirin was idly running his fingers through his son’s hair before he decided to speak in a soft, carrying tone. “I have more questions, but I understand that you are tired. We can resume this conversation tomorrow, but I want to ask you one more thing.” Gently leaning his son back so that they could look into each other’s eyes, Quirin continued, “Varian, I’m giving you the choice if you want me to ask the question or not. I want to hear the answer, but I want to hear it from you, not the truth serum. Would you prefer I ask tomorrow? I understand if you do.”

Varian thought about it. What did he want to know? His question could go a number of ways. The young alchemist’s forehead wrinkled as he frowned, deep in thought. He trusted his father, and he was convinced that his father trusted him too, but if this was so, why was it intimidating to be an open book?

It shouldn’t be.

“We made a deal: no secrets.” His frail voice bloomed through his tired smile.

Quirin took in a deep breath before asking the question that could very possibly ruin so much: “Why did you not want to tell me?”

Whether it was the drug or the boy, the response was quick, “Because Cassandra wanted more than anything to make her father proud. If I told you what she’s done–” He paused abruptly as if searching for the correct words, “It’s your duty to tell the Captain of the Guard, and I would never forgive myself if I was the reason their relationship could never be repaired.”

“Why does this matter so much to you?”

“Because I know what it’s like to disappoint your father.” Once he had started, the boy couldn’t stop. Bottled-up emotions gushed out just like the tears on his face. “I know that gut punching feeling when you see his face after you try so hard to impress him. I know how it crushes you because each time you do something good you get your hopes up only to be smashed back down again. I know how frustrating it is to see how your own father – the only person that matters in your life – looks ashamed of you. I know the horror that comes when you watch his face flush with embarrassment when you’re seen with him in public. I know what it’s like because every moment of every day all I can think about is making you proud, and every day I let you down. I’m tired of being trapped in this hopeless, endless cycle, and I don’t want her to be broken like-” The trembling alchemist was unable to finish as he hugged himself, crying openly. Not even the truth serum could force his worn-out body to finish his thoughts.

Noticeably upset and wanting to comfort Varian, Ruddiger whimpered inside his beloved boy’s arms. Quirin watched his son and the raccoon in complete shock. His mouth slightly open and his eyes suddenly wide and blurry.

In between the sobs violently shaking his body, Varian detected two warm, loving arms wrapping around him, engulfing him with security and the sweet smell of his father. “Varian, you don’t need validation. You need to be proud of yourself. I’m just a man, and – if anything – I am the one not worthy of your greatness. You don’t need to impress others. Know why? Because I am proud of you Varian, and I mean it, and I will say it as many times as you need to hear it. But there is so much more potential inside of you. You should achieve great things because you want to. Don’t be selfish, but do things for yourself, because Varian you are worth it. You don’t understand now, but you are more valuable than all of the gold in this world! You just haven’t realized it yet.”

Throughout his father’s words, Varian’s sobs turned into quiet whimpers until he fell asleep. The last emotion his conscious mind could recall was a sense of lightness and ease. It was like a weight that he didn’t know existed was removed.

*****

Eugene, Varian, and Max had reached the black rock tower and were halfway up the windy steps when they heard the silence finally break. The entrance to the tower opened and several heavy footsteps clattered up the stairs. Mind controlled Hector, Edmund, and Quirin were on their tails.

“Come on Max, let’s pick up the pace,” Eugene commanded his second-in-command as he pushed his heels firmly but gently into Maximus’s strong sides. Varian gripped the horse’s neck tighter as they sped up. Once the three reached the top of the steps, the young alchemist felt a chill on the back of his neck. Petrifying memories flooded these blackened, angry walls. He didn’t want to be back here, but he would do anything to save his father. This was their only option.

“Stand guard.” Eugene said to Max as he and Varian hopped onto the cold ground. Team Awesome studied their surroundings through the dimly lit throne room. The blue, hateful flames that lit up last time they were here, had vanquished leaving them in a twisted enigma of darkness. Eugene was the first to notice the Mindtrap softly glowing on and off – similar to the steadiness a heartbeat – next to Cassandra’s throne. Varian attentively watched as his older friend reached his hand out only to be kicked back by a fierce looking female warrior. Her face was pale on one side showing a calm, coolness to her, and the other side was painted red resembling blood. Varian suddenly felt dizzy.

Without hesitation, Adira grasped the Mindtrap and pointed her sword at Eugene. Immediately, Varian raced to his rescue, until he realized he was completely unarmed. Oh, you’ve got to be joking! You know for someone with my brains, I sure can make the dumbest mistakes! As the alchemist reached his friend’s side, he stared courageously at their friend turned foe. Glancing briefly at Eugene, Varian noticed the uncertain, almost torn, expression on his face. This “Adira” lady may not have been his family, but he was noticeably dreading to fight her. It would only be a matter of time before the rest of the Brotherhood outnumbered them. Max was strong, but could he hold off all three remaining members?

Clenching his fists, Varian prepared for whatever they would have to do to get the Mindtrap and save his father.

The fight didn’t last long. Adira was far more skilled than both the new Captain of the Guard and the weary alchemist. Varian was frustrated when he realized how useless he was. Without materials or anything to work with other than unbreakable black rocks, there was nothing he could do of significance. After a surprise kick, Eugene managed to gain the upper hand and pushed her back. Suddenly feeling cornered, Adira launched the Mindtrap behind both alchemist and captain. Whipping their heads back to follow the vital item, both members of Team Awesome instantly felt a sharp ache of dread penetrate their stomachs as they watched none other than Quirin catch it.

Max, who was busy fighting off Hector and Edmund, was unable to take on all three at once. Quirin, snatching the Mindtrap, hid it inside his armor, before intimidatingly moving his sword into an attacking position. Before either Varian or Eugene could react, Adira launched herself at Eugene from behind. Both tumbled to the ground and continued their scuffle, thus leaving Varian to face his father.

Okay Varian, the desperate boy tried to spark an idea in his mind, Think outside the box. Don’t think like an alchemist; think like a son.

“Dad!” He shouted.

His father didn’t falter in his advancing movements. There was a disturbingly blank stare covering his face.

“Dad, you’re being controlled.”

As if his son’s words meant nothing, Quirin ignored him and slammed the handle of his sword into his son’s tiny frame.

Falling to the ground, the boy curled into himself as pain spread throughout his body in agonizing waves. Still, he did not give up. “We’re in this together, Dad. You didn’t give up on me, and I’m not giving up on you.”

No response.

Slamming his foot into his son’s side, Quirin remained emotionless – completely unaware of what he was doing.

Tears gathered in Varian’s eyes, and he recoiled at the disgusting, metallic taste in his mouth. He knew better than to look at the liquid dripping down his face and around the corners of his lips. He was already dizzy enough.

He needed a different tactic. He couldn’t say obvious things; he had to say what was on his heart. Through his dotted vision and tormented body, he managed to raise his head and look into his father’s eyes. “Dad- ” He had to spit blood in order to continue, “Dad, these last six months, you’ve helped me forgive you and more importantly- ” He coughed, a nasty sound, “I’ve finally forgiven myself.”

Quirin raised his sword directly above Varian’s head ready to slam it down on him. Somehow, Varian’s head, which was beating like a speeding war drum, made out Eugene’s voice screaming his name from the opposite side of the room. Ignoring his fear, Varian bravely spoke to his lost father, “But that’s just it, Dad. You’re not trapped because of the Mindtrap; you’ve trapped yourself inside of your own mind, and you haven’t forgiven yourself for it.”

Nothing.

The boy’s father stood frozen with his sword ready to pierce his son’s skull, but he didn’t move and neither did the boy. They stared at each other until–

Until, the unnatural blue light in Quirin’s eyes flickered like the candle that stood between them that night they were reunited. Just like that candle’s wax, the barrier between them had finally melted. Their hard work, their strenuous journey of redemption, and their hope to rebuild their bond, had finally been completed.

Building off of his son’s strength, Quirin used the sword that was supposed to take his son’s life and stabbed the Mindtrap. Kneeling down to see his bloodied and beaten son, Quirin realized that he had never found his son more beautiful than he was in this moment. Scooping the boy up, Quirin pressed his forehead against Varian’s, unbothered by the fact that his son’s blood was dripping on him. All those years before, Quirin was rigid in his belief that his wife was the love of his life even past her death, but something in him had shattered.

Now, the love of his life was lying securely in his arms.

“Who cares about pride?” He spoke through tears, “I love you, Varian.”

Varian smiled and, if he wasn’t this exhausted, he would have let out a laugh of pure joy. He thought nothing could feel better than to hear his father say he was proud of him.

He was wrong.

This was the first time Quirin told him that he loved him, and something told Varian that it wouldn’t be the last.

________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

269 notes · View notes

jisungmark · 5 years ago

Text

brat tamer

genre: smut

group: x1

warning(s): bratty!reader, tamer!seungyoun, oral, slapping, spanking, creampie

“i can’t believe you’re still talking shit in the situation you’re in.” he clicked his tongue at you. a devilish smiled spread across your face. you lifted your eyes from your lap to face him.

“that’s because you’re doing an awful job taming me cho seungyoun.” you taunted. he raised an eyebrow at you. you were honestly struggling to keep up the act, but you wanted him to get even more worked up.

“oh really?” he started, “who would do a better job?” he asked, fingers coming down to tug on the nipple clamps. you pressed your thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice.

“yohan,” you breathed out, “i’m sure yohan would do a way better job.” you stated, collecting yourself. he untied you from the chair and decided your punishment would be best on the bed. he threw you on your shared mattress and you landed with a flop.

“see, you’re too soft for this.” you teased again, knowing very well he’s not too soft for this. he ignored you as he tied your limbs to the bed posts. your heart stopped as you sucked in a breath. he took a step back, admiring you in your naked glory. your nipples stood proud with the clamps assisting in that. he noticed your shaky thighs as he chuckled to himself.

“look at you shaking already, i haven’t even done anything.” his voice was laced with cockiness as you rolled your eyes.

“you’re getting ahead of yourself, kid.” you flashed him a wide grin. you saw the switch in his eyes.

“what did you call me?” he questioned. you decided to keep it going.

“k i d, i called you a kid.” you spelled it out for him. now you knew you were pushing it but you were in too deep to stop now. he crawled on top of you, still fully clothed which was killing you. your eyes locked with his and for once this entire time, you felt small. you felt your heart rate quicken as you waited for whatever was next. he brought his hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly.

“too soft, just like i sa-” you were cut off when he brought that hand down on your face, hard. your eyes widened as you attempted to close your thighs. there was no getting out of this punishment now obviously.

“seungyoun, i-” he cut you off once again when his hand connected with that same cheek. your back arched and the nipple clamps brushed against his shirt, sending shivers down your spine.

“you’re not talking a whole lotta shit now, are you?” his voice was laced with anger and lust. before you could respond, he pulled himself off of you. he unclipped the clamps from your breasts and tossed them somewhere on the floor. your nipples were raw and sensitive at this point. he brought his fingers down to brush his thumb against one before harshly tugging it. you attempted to grab at him with your tied hands. you wanted to give it, you wanted him to just fuck you senselessly but you couldn’t give up the fight that easily.

“don’t be so angry kid. it’s just a prank.” you countered. you knew you were playing a very risky game right about now. he didn’t say anything as he pushed your legs open. you grew embarrassed as you were fully aware of how turned on you were right now.

“you get off on this, don’t you?” he took in the sight of your dripping heat before scanning your face, “you get off on being a brat?” his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

“yeah, so i can get tamed but clearly i chose the wrong tamer.” you were almost positive those would be the last words you spoke. before you could blink, his hand was wrapped around your throat, cutting off your oxygen.

“if you say anything else, i will leave you tied up like this. with nothing. nothing to help you get off. nothing to fill this slutty pussy of yours? do you understand me?” his lips were right by your ear. you just nodded as best as you could, fully aware that this threat was serious. he let your throat go and made his way back down your body. he slipped two fingers into you effortlessly. you sighed as you finally got a taste of relief. his pace was brutal, your legs shaking as you withered about on the bed. you were embarrassed by how quickly you felt your orgasm approaching. maybe it was because of how long you’ve been waiting. he brought his lips down to wrap around your swollen clit. a string of swear words left your lips as your legs attempted to trap his head in place. he was scissoring his fingers inside of you and licking figure eights with a pointed tongue. you panted out as you ground yourself against his mouth and fingers.

“seungyoun, i- please.” you begged. you were probably gonna get in trouble for talking but you were so close. he ignored you as he sped up his fingers and sucked your nub harsher. you let out a choked sob as you quietly hoped he would let you cum. one more lick would send you over the edge. and that one final lick never came. he removed his mouth and fingers from your heat.

“you really thought i’d let you cum that easily after you’ve been such a brat?” he laughed, tongue swiping his lips clean of your essence. as if right on cue, he stuck his wet fingers in your mouth to stop you from saying anything. you whimpered as you sucked them clean. your hips bucked in the air as you searched for some sort of friction.

“you’re such a slut, especially for this. you want me to use you any way i want to, don’t you? to pick any hole of yours and ruin it? to have you begging for more as i stretch you out? you want to make a mess, don’t you? you want to embarrass yourself, humiliate yourself from how worked up you can get? you love when i tame you, huh? you love being a desperate bitch just for me? you’ll take anything i give you. why? because you’re a brat who can’t act correctly until you get some dick. isn’t that right?” his tone was condescending and fuck you loved every second of it. you chewed on your bottom lip as you just nodded. everything he said was correct, everything he said made you impossibly wetter, everything he said made you even more desperate for him.

“please,” you begged, “i’ll be good. please just fuck me.” your voice was shaky and you could feel your bottom lip quivering. he gave you a look, as if he was thinking about it. he hovered over your body as he caressed your face again. he softly connected his lips with yours. you were taken back by the gentle gesture but nonetheless kissed him back. as he worked his lips with yours, he worked on untying your arms. once they were freed, you wrapped them around his neck. he groaned when you tugged the hairs on the back of his neck. he pulled away and glanced at you.

“i’m still gonna fuck you like a brat.” he smirked. you just nodded. he moved down the bed to untie your legs. he motioned for you to come towards him. he pointed to his pants and you knew what he wanted. you crawled in his direction and grabbed the waistband of his sweats. you looked up at him with doe eyes and he nodded, running a hand through your hair. you freed him from his constraints and immediately took him in your mouth, thighs clenching when you finally felt his weight on your tongue. the hand in your hair assisted with the bobbing of your head. you rested your hands on his thighs for support as you worked his length. he hissed when you ran your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside. the grip he had on your hair tightened as he held you in place with your nose brushing against his belly. you swallowed around him and he pulled you off of him.

“gosh, such a good girl when you wanna be.” he praised, leaning down to connect your slick lips with his. he wasted no time with freeing himself from his clothes and bending you over. he eased himself inside of you, sighing when he bottomed out. you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head as he stretched you out. you held yourself up on your arms as he started out with a few shallow strokes. once you were both comfortable, he was fucking you senseless just like you wanted. the sound of skin on skin filled the room along with your pleading cries for more. he kissed along your spine when you fell completely forward. your hands searched for anything to grab, finding solace in your own hair. he spanked you a few times and each time you clenched around him.

“you really are such a slut, i can feel you clenching. you must love pain.” he said, voice somehow not faltering even with the powerful thrusts. you just moaned out as your response. he circled his hips in order to find that spot that you loved. you couldn’t help the long moan that left your lips when he found it. he pulled you up against his chest with his hand tight around your throat.

“is that it princess? is that your spot?” he asked, breath fanning your neck. your body was attempting to buckle due to the amount of pleasure you were feeling, but seungyoun was not letting it happen. he loosened his grip on your neck so you could answer. he sucked your lobe into his mouth as he snapped his hips against yours harshly.

“answer me or i’ll stop.” he stated.

“yes yes yes yes that’s my spot.” you practically chanted so he wouldn’t stop fucking you. he let the hand from around your neck fall down to your clit. you felt shock waves shoot through your body when he lightly tapped the nub.

“you wanna cum?” he whispered, fingers pressing into you, “you wanna make a mess on me? wanna ruin the sheets?”

“i- touch me please.” you laid your head on his shoulder as he began rubbing circles on your clit. his thrusts weren’t letting up and your orgasm was slowly building up again. he could sense you were close again, wanting you to cum this time.

“touch yourself.” he commanded and you obliged as he pushed you forward. your fingers were working fast to push you over the edge. his thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm and you knew he was losing himself in you. the knot in your belly eventually became too much as you finally reached the level of pleasure you’ve been waiting for all night. he threw his head back and let out a deep groan. you clenched around him as you continued to work your fingers on your raw clit. you were a babbling mess as he fucked you through your orgasm. your eyes welled with tears as you bit down on the sheets. he tsked as he spanked you again.

“let me hear you.” he shakily said, obvious that his end was near. you let the sheets go and babbled. everything just felt so good and you couldn’t think straight. the sight of you making a mess on him like you both wanted sent him over the edge. he couldn’t take anymore and he slammed his hips against yours one last time before spilling his seed into you. he dug his blunt nails into your hips as he rocked his length in you. you pushed yourself back on him, wanting to collect every last drop of his cum. once he was finished, he pulled out and watched his seed drip from your stretched hole. your body relaxed into the bed as he left to get a wet rag. he had you lay on your back as he wiped you off gently before wiping himself down. he just laid a towel down on any wet spots, too lazy to change the sheets. he fetched you both some clothes to change into before crawling into bed next to you.

“still think yohan would be a better tamer than me?” he asked, sipping your water. you thought for a moment.

“precisely.”

#x1 smut #cho seungyoun smut #seungyoun smut #x1 #seungyoun #cho seungyoun #seungyoun imagines #seungyoun scenarios #seungyoun fics #x1 imagines #x1 scenarios

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anteroom-of-death · 5 years ago

Text

Life, For Dummies p10

a/n: ta dahhhhhhh. i want to thank my hormones and sacha’s ass for this one. enjoy!

You moved back in and went on adventures again. The careful ownership he took of you was heartwarming. He’d obviously didn’t want a repeat of the last cycle of your relationship. The Master also was oddly always at the back or forefront of your mind, like he rented real estate there. Or rather a permanent residence. You didn’t know if it was him playing mind tricks or you being a bit more soft and submissive to his actions.

Today, after a particularly close call involving a tiny race of people on a high gravity planet he wanted to publicly humiliate then take the resources from, you got a few minor cuts and scrapes and a shallow head wound, so he had you sat on the kitchenette counter, applying bactine and a thin layer neosporin to your forehead, it was yet again so tender. His emotive eyes glittering with rage and triumph after having to eradicate them for trying to harm you, but yet so filled with angst as he swabbed a Q-tip over you, a grimace passed over his entire face when you shrunk back from the sting of the spray.

“Pet…” he uttered, washing his hands and tucking a strand of hair behind your ears and cupping your face. “You have to be more careful.” You leaned onto his hand and closed your eyes. You let out a small but heavy breath. His hand on you and touching you in such a tender way turning you into all-too-willing putty. He took you gingerly in both hands and stroked your chin before taking your jaw and pulling you forward for a forehead kiss.

It was a scold, but not like the usual. And you were all too willing to obey.

Obedience was getting easier.

The further you went as a threat to the universe and a bigger bitch you were, the more tender and soft you became towards Him. Give and take, maybe, you figured.

You enjoyed it.

You were either feared and respected for the Threat of You, or beloved as a liberating ruler. One or the other. The Master let you choose.

The sex was getting more avante-gard. He was playing with all the secret fetishes that you hadn’t even told him about yet- you guessed he’d deeply read your mind and made sure you had no corners he hadn’t infiltrated.

Not that you minded.

He slightly twirled your hair and looked at you again with those eyes. Those beautiful, hypnotic eyes.

He was really designed by some wild fertility god to turn you into a pile of mush. Everything from those feet you kneeled at, to that wild hair that tousled so effortlessly in his face. His ass was a treat to oggle as he sauntered to kill someone that pissed him off. His thighs were enough to make you want to punch a wall. He was just so damn beautiful.

You had it bad.

“I think tonight I’ll cook you something…” He said, “Why don’t you work on your Gallifreyan work I’ve given you.” He pulled you off the counter and smacked you bottom. You smirked then conceded, “Yes, Master.” You went to the table and picked up a pencil and started drawing the circles and lines and writing what they said in your “human-ish” as the Master put it. You were learning quickly, and it was always a blast because he’d hide cheeky little slutty notes to you in between the real life knowledge.

You shook your head and blushed as you saw, “I belong to the Master, I suck his massive horse cock.” A sardonic giggle came out of you once you finally wrote the message down.

The scent of pici cacio e pepe started to fill the room as well as an uncorked wine starting to breathe. Other scents you couldn’t name started to fill your nose.

Like his recent dabbling into your fantasies and anything, he was an avante-garde chef as well. He liked mixing the alien with the Earthy and training your tastebuds to accept more.

Life was always about some sort of training or learning, he told you once as you begged him to go ice skating with you at Rockefeller Center. He’d never ice skated before and you taught him. It was hilarious, the usually effervescently graceful Master flailing on ice, a scarf choking him as you pulled him off the sides of the ramp. He was so scared and when he fell, he ended up thwacking the back of his skull hard enough that a supervisor came and was extremely worried about a concussion. After a check that he definitely wasn’t, but the back of his eyes were oddly reflective in the penlight’s light.

Just another reminder that he wasn’t human in the slightest. Despite his looks.

Soon your work was done and you moved your way over to the stove and hugged him from behind, pressing your weight as he stirred a pot. “Smells good.” You admitted and inhaled both the dish and the scent of him.

“You’ll really enjoy this!” He lifted a wooden spoon into your mouth and you eagerly took it. You didn’t know how to describe the taste besides “Yes, I need more!” You wiped a bit off your lip and sucked on it. It was great.

“Stir this, I’ll go check your work…” He ordered and went over and produced a red pen to grade you. You weren’t lying to yourself when you admitted it. Kind of like a hot professor/Daddy thing. He was so serious and he sucked on the pen and it just drove you so crazy.

You observed the sauce and worried about it for a second.

Then he came and pressed his body onto you and breathed, “Good girl, you got it mostly correct. Maybe I’ll teach you paragraph structure next.” He took the spoon and stirred it and added a glowing pink spice into the pot. He snaked a finger down your panthem and worked a finger into your cunt as he stirred it in and blended. You moaned as he somehow managed to finger fuck you and keep tempo with the stirring. He bit into you as the timer on the stove buzzed and he shoved you aside and pulled off the pot and started to get dinner ready.

You were put out because you didn’t cum, but soon a delicious meal was in front of you.

The food and you edging, plus the heady wine paired with both made you both languid and about ready to have an aneurysm.

He knew what to do to get you especially needy. Your abdomen was flooded with warmth and you were sopping wet, glad you just were wearing a simple jogger set and crop top today. You kept crossing your legs and trying to focus on what you were talking about.

Dinner dragged on too long, almost like he knew what a needy greedy little whore you were becoming by the second.

You decided to roll for initiative and make a move…

You straddled him and lightly kissed his neck and worked the way up to his lip, lightly licking and biting after each kiss. You felt him stiffen as you made it finally to said lips and pressed hard enough to feel his front teeth through your lips. Wrapping your arms around him, you kissed harder until he opened his mouth to say something, you silenced him with your tongue down and licked the top of his mouth. You let yourself scrape your lips across the firm beard hairs and prickle up your sensitivity.

With one hand bracing on the back of the chair, you worked his clothes off slowly, grabbing and wrapping your fingers around the Master’s chest hair. His eyes were closed and the lavender of his veins in his eyes fluttered erratically. You let him pull forward and take the lead for a little bit as you grind your ass over the fabrics of both your pants. You gently tried hiking down your pants and unbuttoning his.

His cock was rock hard and very easy to squirm your way onto. He was very accommodating as he thrust into you as you rocked gently back and forth, still pressing your lips onto the hollow of his throat as he traced a pattern on the back of your neck. You squoze your legs gently on his hips and sped up the rocking motions and started to bite him and suck on his neck, tracing your own little pattern with teeth and tongue.

He grabbed the nape of your neck and a bit of your hair and forced you onto the table, disregarding the lovely setting he made sure was nice beforehand. He then fully took over. He forced his way deeper into you and smacked your face gently a few times before fully enclosing his lips onto yours. He was not playing lightly with the thrusts and moving slightly side to side.

You were looking him directly in the eyes and goaded him, “Hit me again! Harder!” You laughed.

He dipped down midway through a thrust and kissed your forehead. “As you wish, my little whore…” You shuddered as his hand stung your face. You felt a tiny corner of a nail cut your cheek, you were oddly into it. “Again!” You goaded harder, and he was an obedient Master and hit you, “My little pet…” He shook his head and pressed his weight upon you and thrusted, hitting your cervix, you felt yourself getting more turned on by the pain given.

You were really becoming a pain loving slut, weren’t you?

“Again!”

He grabbed your cheeks, “Ask me, ask your Master…”

“Please...please…” You begged even though your cheeks were squished together. “Please, Master! Hit me harder!”

“Good girl!” He purred and smacked you completely silly then kissed the oncoming bruise gently before wrapping a hand around your neck, speeding up his thrusts until he came, cock twitching inside your now throbbing hole.

He worked on playing with your clit, flicking and rubbing gently and bringing you to a delicate, but well deserved orgasm.

“Has my little pet enjoyed her time?” He picked you off the table and placed you onto the seat, divesting himself of what remained of his clothes as he went and got a bendy ice pack and applying it gently to your cheeks.

“You already got hit in the face enough today.” He chided and smiled sadistically.

“Nah, never enough, I’m tough. I can take it.” You defended yourself crossing your arms and pouting.

He rolled his eyes and followed up, “Duly noted.” He let you have your momentary invincibility.

“And on that note, I think it’s time for me to go to bed.” You stuck out a petulant tongue.

“Go ahead...I’ve been planning on some things for soon. Might be tomorrow if you go to bed now…” He cryptically waved you off.

You laughed and shoved him, kissing his forehead and waltzing away.

Laying in bed that night, you wondered what the surprise was. You wracked your brain and blinked yourself asleep.

What was that man up to?

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x you #doctor who self insert fiction #the master x reader #the master x you #dhawan!master x reader #fanfic #lemon #yeet #im ready to party dudes

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diddlesanddoodles · 5 years ago

Text

Dumpling ch. 19

Authors Notes: (Starting to get into the chapters I’ve had planned for literally YEARS. Feels so good making progress. And thank you for all the lovely messages! Hope you all enjoy.)

Farris’s answer came in the form of manual labor. Three large bushels of long beans that needed washing and their stems pulled off, ten pumpkins that needed breaking down and seeds collected and washed, and confusingly enough, a whole pine tree limb that needed all the needles removed and collected.

��As preparation for the dinner service was ramping up, the main kitchen was in full swing with staff rushing around and hot and sharp instruments flying about. So the two humans were banished to corner of the spice pantry atop a small table strategically placed with nothing nearby so as to be used in an any ill-conceived escape attempt. They were a small island onto themselves and would not be able to leave without a giant’s aid. Supposedly.

“He thinks he’s so clever,” Jae remarked after they green door had been shut and they had been given their orders. “He thinks I can’t get down off of this? Watch me.”

“Don’t,” Nenani hissed at him. “We’re already in enough trouble.”

“This is nothin’,” remarked Jae with a cocky grin. “I’ve been in much worse.”

Nenani stared at him, unimpressed. “I’ve heard.”

“Farris’s mind must be going,” he said, paying her no mind as he sat at the edge of the table and began to lower himself down, feet reaching and feeling around for a foothold. The green door behind him silently opened and Yale stepped in grinning. As Nenani opened her mouth to say something, the giant put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and winked. She closed her mouth and watched.

Jae had not picked up on Yale’s presence at all and continued talking aloud. “How many times has he seen me climb these tables. Pff, he should know me better than this...”

“Aye,” agreed Yale, grinning like a cat from the doorway, and startling Jae. The boy scrambled for purchased on the old wooden surface, breathless with surprise and exertion. Jae glared over his shoulder. But Yale, just grinned mischievously, gestured vaguely in their direction. “S’why Farris asked me t’grease them legs. So less ya want to have a long fall and crack yer arse on them stones, best be stayin’ where ya are, brat.”

From behind the green door somewhere out in the kitchen, Farris called out, “He tryin’ to run?”

“Aye, he is.”

“GET YER ARSE BACK ON THAT TABLE, BRAT. OR I’LL BOIL YA WITH THEM BEANS!”

Huffing through his noes, Jae reluctantly pulled himself back up to sit on the table’s edge.

“I’m not gonna sit here and play kitchen lackey all day.”

“Well,” Yale replied. “Farris says ya are.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Fer the time bein’, the King says we can,” Yale replied with a shrug. “So get to it ya two. Gjerk’s waitin’ on them pumpkins.”

“You lot could have this all done in a few minutes,” Jae objected. “This will take us forever!”

“THAT’S THE DAMN POINT, BOY!” Farris hollered from beyond the door. “TIE ‘IM TO THE DAMN TABLE IF YA HAVE TO, YALE.”

“Gladly,” Yale replied, almost daring Jae to give him justification to do just that. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Jae glowered miserably at the expectant giant before getting to his feet and walking over to the pile of gourds, kicking one lightly, before sitting down with an audible thump. “How are we suppose to cut these if we don’t have a knife?”

As if anticipating the question, Yale strode over to their small table and reached behind his back to pull from his apron a leather bundle. It was tiny in the black haired giant’s hands and he held it out to Jae. “Connar was gracious enough to lend these to us.”

As Jae begrudgingly took the parcel, Yale’s other hand reached out and patted him on the head. Already irritated, Jae snarled and smacked the retreating fingers.

“Do that again and I’ll bite you!” Jae warned.

“Try it and I’ll bite ya back. And I warn ya,” Yale said, not at all taking the threat serious. He rather seemed to find whole thing immensely amusing. “I’d bet good coin that mine’s much worse.”

Yale left them to it after that and both Jae and Nenani spent the remainder of the afternoon at the tasks. For nearly an hour Jae was muttering to himself in irritation about the injustice of it all and being a general curmudgeon. The leather bound parcel turned out to be three knives of varying shapes and lengths, but of high quality and honed to a sharp edge.

“I should have just let them tie me up and used these to cut myself free,” Jae grumbled, examining one of the larger knives. “This sucks.”

“Can’t we just finish this and let it be done with?” Nenani pleaded. “Aren’t you tired? Because I want to get this done and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” Jae relented. “They didn’t have to be so commanding about it. Sheesh...”

“They’re just trying to keep us safe,” she told him with a frown. “You’re being such a baby.”

She had expected a sharp tongued retort, but Jae was silent and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he replied in a small and nearly regretful voice, “I know...”

…………………………….

She never in her life had ever seen a long bean. They were as thick as a persons arm and as long as Nenani was tall. Jae told her they were native to Vhasshal and grew in an area called Timberbrook, where they were apparently famous for them. Despite their size, they were easy enough to work through, but the pumpkin were a much messier affair and neither human much cared for the smell. They were a mottled green and gray and not any bigger than a normal gourd. But their outer flesh was hard and tough. Jae took it upon himself to break apart and cut the dusty colored gourds while Nenani picked out the small white flat seeds from their slimey and goopy innards. After washing and drying, they went into a shallow ceramic pot and set aside. What any giant would want with such tiny seeds, Nenani did not know.

“Yaesha uses them,” Jae replied, plunging one of Connar’s knives into the flesh of the next gourd. “He grinds them up and adds them to tonics.”

The worst task ended up being the pine needle collecting. The small green barbs were sharp and there was so many to collect. After the sheer physical exertion of the previous two tasks, let alone the earlier events of the day, Nenani’s hand coordination was all but shot. It made her hands clumsy and prone to pricking herself on the sharp ends. She tried to use her skirts as a glove, but they still managed to penetrate and stab at her sore fingers.

“Why would you even want to eat a pine tree,” Nenani said grumpily and sucked on her abused finger tips. She grimaced as the bitter taste of pine sap hit her tongue. “Ugh, it’s gross.”

“You don’t eat it,” Jae laughed. “You boil the needles and make a tea. It’s supposed to help with arthritis.”

They still had almost half of the tree branch still to harvest when Yale poked his head in through the door. “Makin’ any headway? Gjerk’s needin’ them pumpkins now.”

“They’re over there,” Jae replied shortly, waving at the pile of cut up gourd behind the,. “Take ‘em! They stink.”

With a suppressed smile, Yale easily swept the chunks of pumpkin onto a dish and surveyed the rest of their work. “Still on the pine needles? You two are maddeningly slow at this.”

His teasing tone was lost on both humans and they returned his cheeky grin with tired glares.

“Can we be done now?” Nenani asked pleadingly. “I’m tired of picking pine needles.”

“Yer not supposed to enjoy yer punishment, Dumplin’,” Yale laughed. “But, seein’ as it’s gettin’ late and you two are slower than molasses...”

As he trailed off, Yale looked around and back through the green doorway to see if anyone was watching and then plucked up the pine branch. As easily as picking a flower, Yale pinched one end and dragged fingers across, pulling every needle off effortlessly and when he was done, placed back down upon the table a bare tree limb. Both Nenani and Jae sighed in relief.

“Gods, finally!” Jae exclaimed, falling back onto the table and closing his eyes.

“Can I go to sleep now?” Nenani asked, her eye barely open.

Yale chuckled. “What? Without supper? Figured you’d be starvin’ by now.”

“I am, but also sleepy...”

“Bet you wish you had some of Maevis’s loopy juice now, huh?”

Nenani made a gagging sound. “No.”

……………………………………………………………………..

Gjerk and Herit, as the youngest of the kitchen staff, were set to cleaning as the last of the top table’s dishes were taken up through back servants’ stairwell. Bart, Saen, Avery, and Yale were still out in the courtyard and Farris was making his rounds and verifying everything of that day’s work that needed doing had in fact been done.

“What do you think the King’s gonna do?” Herit asked, wiping down the long table. “About the Ibronian fella.”

“He should throw him in the dungeon.” Gjerk replied, stirring the pot of simmering stew that would be their dinner. He planted one hand on his hip and waved the spoon in the air. “What kind a’ man threatens two lil’ kids? They can’t even reach his kneecaps!”

“You realize I’m only a year younger than you, right?” Jae asked from his perch on small shelf near the archway door.

Gjerk’s face and tips of his ears turned red. “W-well, yeah. But you’re a whole lot smaller than me. It’s not the same!”

“Nah, Jae’s right,” Herit snickered. “I think if it were a contest between which of ya could outrun the Ibronian, my money would be on ‘im.”

Nenani was nowhere near as skilled in climbing as Jae, so she was relegated to counter below and had not been paying very much attention to the conversation. Yale had taken pity on her earlier and set her up with some honey tea to revive her and that had occupied the majority of her attention. So when a large wooden spoon slammed against the wall a few feet from her head, she let out an involuntary shriek of surprise. Herit and Gjerk were chasing after one another, pulling at each others’ clothes and hair. Herit got a good grab on his fellow and the two tumbled to the ground in a cacophonous heap of curses and cries of anger and pain.

It wasn’t a moment later that Yale came rushing through the archway, eyes sharp and seeking. “What th’fuck is goin’ on?!”

Neither of the younger giants paused in their brawl to answer him and it took only a moment for Yale to piece it all together. From behind Yale, Avery and Bart entered and seeing his two underlings tumbling about the floor, the bearded giant scowled.

“Get yer arses off the floor, ya idgets!” yelled Bart. “Before I skin both yer hides!”

As Avery and Bart went about separating the two tenderfoots, Yale made a bee line to Nenani. “What was the scream fer? Ya alright?”

Embarrassed, Nenani hunched her shoulders and hid her face partially behind her cup. She nodded meekly. “...it just scared me.”

Yale blinked down at her and then rolled his eyes with a sigh. Despite that, he did look visibly relieved. “Had me thinkin’ someone came down and started attackin’ you lot.”

“Not unless Gjerk’s soup spoon counts...” Jae added.

Once he fight was broken up and the preparations for supper continued, routine took over and everyone began to take their seats. Herit silently poured out measures of ale while sporting a new split lip as Gjerk dolled out bowls of stew with a newly ripped shirt collar.

“Lolly’s gonna have yer hide,” snickered Saen in reference to the torn garment. Gjerk moved as if to pass a bowl to him, but passed him over and handed it to Yale instead.

Saen frowned. “Oi!”

“I can mend it myself...” Gjerk mumbled.

“Quinn and Kol ain’t back yet?” Herit asked, setting two mugs of ale in front of each bakers’ empty chairs.

“No,” Farris said, cleaning off the hilt of a small blade. Once satisfied, he slipped back into the sheath at his hip. Nenani could not remember ever seeing him wear a knife before. Use one, certainly. But he had never armed himself and she could not help but feel a pinprick of worry. “But if they want to eat, they best be hurryin’.”

“Where did they go?” Jae asked from his seat next to Nenani. Yale had taken a shallow ceramic dish and placed it upturned on the table to give the two human a sort of table of their own.

“Lolly came and got them earlier,” Bart replied, breaking apart a chunk of bread and handing smaller portions to Jae and Nenani. “The Queen was wantin’ a word with ‘em.”

“And that doesn’t bother anyone?” Jae asked, pulling at the softer insides of his piece of bread. “Y’know. Given what’s going on.”

“The Queen doesn’t have a reason t’want ‘em harmed,” Farris said after taking a long pull of his ale. “It’s you she hates, boy. Not my bakers.”

“Guilt by association?” He offered back.

“Gods help us all.” The kitchen master replied. Jae smiled and huffed a quiet laugh.

“S’long as they don’t spill any gravy on her,” Bart said with a grin. “I’m bettin’ they’ll be just fine.”

The smile was gone from Jae face in an instant, but Yale, Saen, and Farris were highly amused.

“What’re the chances that I could get some of that ale?” Jae asked.

“Not good,” chortled Farris. “Tea’ll suit ya just fine.”

Jae slumped down in defeat, sheer exhaustion finally dulling his tongue. Just as things had begun to quiet down and everyone tucked into their food, rapid footsteps began echoing down the servants stairwell. Both Kol and Quinn practically leaped down the last few stairs and into the kitchen, faces flushed and breathing hard. And grinning wildly.

“I take it all is well?” Farris asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yer never gonna guess what just-” Quinn began, quickly sweeping into his seat.

“The Queen gave us raises!” Kol cut him off as he too took his seat, beating the table excitedly. Quinn gave Kol a murderous glare, but it was quickly swept away by his own excitement and he drank heavily from his tankard.

Farris’s blinked in surprise. “She what?”

“Congratulations...” Avery muttered jealously.

“No, ya dolt. All of us!” Kol snapped. The entire table perked up. “She’s givin’ us all a penny more per month!”

“What?” Yale asked with a mouthful of soup. “Really? Why?”

“Guess she really liked them pastries we’ve been makin’,” Quinn answered smugly. “But I guess we’ve all impressed her with the cookin’.”

“Horse shit,” Farris replied grimly. He did not seem to be sharing in the collective mirth. “Looks t’me like she’s buying favors.”

The energy of the room dulled as they mulled over the idea.

“What favors would she be buying?” Jae asked Farris, not quite masking his nervousness. It did not escape Farris’s notice and waved his hand dismissively.

“We ain’t handin’ ya over to her if that’s what yer worried about.”

“I’d do it for three pennies extra,” Avery quipped, but Saen punched him in the arm. “AH! Dammit, Saen it was a joke!”

“I have doubts,” said Farris in a raised tone to recapture the staff’s attention. “...that she has anythin’ like that in mind. She’s startin’ t’see how unpopular she is with some folks and she’s a young lass. Newly married and in a land that ain’t her own.”

“She might be just tryin’ to establish some sort of peace,” Bart agreed, but still seemed to contemplate the situation. “She’s plenty popular with the blue bloods, though. Why try to win our lowly favors and opinions?”

“Maybe it ain’t our opinions she’s trying to win,” Yale countered. “D’ya hear anythin' 'bout what’s t’be done with the Ibronian, lads?”

“Nothing official, but a footman told me he’s bein’ sent back to Ibronia first light,” Quinn said. “I guess the King really let ‘im have it too.”

Yale nodded knowingly. “Aye, like I said. It ain’t our favor she’s vying fer.” He poked Jae in the side, inciting a cry of irritation from the human. “Maybe it’s his.”

There was a short pause before the entire table seem to erupt in dissension. Even Jae was looking at Yale as though the young Vhasshalan had properly lost his marbles.

“HA!” Kol laughed. “She never had much of an opinion of ‘im before. Why now?”

As the discussion turned to all the reasons why Yale’s theory was absolute bonk, Nenani mulled over the riddle in her mind. She remembered Barnaby’s painting of the King and Queen’s wedding day and tried to recall if she seemed happy in the picture. She understood that the marriage had been for political reasons and it seemed to her that it would be a very hard thing to marry for that rather than love. To be far away from your family. Her new husband might be very angry with her for what Creag had tried to do in her name. She certainly hoped that the Queen felt bad about her man trying to kill Jae. And her!

The conversation carried on in that way further into the night long after their bowls were empty and Nenani began to feel the heavy tug of sleep.

“Oh, wait. Look at th' Dumplin’,” someone said teasingly. She blinked blearily in the direction of the voice to identify the source, but she could not tell as the world began to blur. Warm soft laughter swam above her as she laid her head down and closed her eyes. “Ah! There she goes...”

…………………………………………

It was a familiar dream now. Boats burned on the horizon and people screamed, but she did not see her Uncle’s boat this time. Instead, a small skiff ambled moor-less in the tide and the longer she stared, the closer the skiff approached. She hovered above the water, toes barely touching the surface, and watched immobile as the dark skiff drew near. It bumped lightly against her shins as she looked into it. A shroud covered body lay inside surrounded by burial offerings and flowers. A large jeweled amulet lay atop the green shroud and she found it mesmerizing. The jewel set in the center was as large as a duck’s eggs and was speckled with flecks of orange, red, green, and yellow. The burning light of the fires made the red of the jewel glisten like blood and she could not resist reaching out to touch it. As her fingers grazed the ice cold surface of the amulet, the green velvet shroud pulled away to reveal the empty black eyes of a skull.

With a gasp, Nenani drew back her hand.

Stone rose up from the waves and pressed to her feet and suddenly she was no longer in the harbor of the Southland Ports, but deep inside the walls of Vhasshal. The pitted walls of the catacombs rose up around her and voices rang out inaudibly. Nenani turned to find the way out, but her movements were slow and weighted as though trying to run through deep mud. Something gripped her wrist and pulled, but she would not turn to look at it. She could feel the hard bone of its hand and hear the rattling of its spine.

“The cracks grow wider,” the voice moaned, tugging her closer to the center of the room. “Soon he will see you…”

“Please,” she begged, crying wildly as she was pulled ever more closer to the room’s center. “Please leave me alone!”

“There is too much inside you building...the cracks will break...”

“I just wanna go home! Please! PLEASE!”

A boney hand gripped her face and she could smell ash. “...the fire of Silvaara is still wild.”

The harder she breathed, the less air she seemed to take in and no matter how hard she pushed back, the skeleton assailant was so much stronger. Something pressed up against the side of her head and the voice spoke again, hideously close to her ear. “He will come for you...”

“MAMA!”

All at once she was free and she tumbled hard onto her knees. The cold air of the catacombs was gone and replaced with the warmth of the kitchen hearth. She could smell stew and ale and feel the rough wood grain under her hands. All at once sound returned and everyone was shouting in surprise.

“Seven hells!”

“What the fuck was that fer?”

“Shit-!”

“Gods, that one can scream...”

Something large touched her back and she immediately curled in on herself with a cry of terror.

“Oi! Nenani,” Yales voice broke through the haze and she sensed his hands hovering over her. “Yer alright! It was just a nightmare, Dumplin’. Yer alright.”

Her rapid breathing slowed as she became of aware of herself again and a rolling wave of emotion surged from inside her and poured out. Tears turned to muffled cries and then into open sobbing that just would not cease. Yale laid a tentative hand on her back, rubbing lightly and trying to comfort her. She reached out to grasp his fingers as though they would keep her from sinking into the abyss. His voice, quiet and calming, whispered over her head so close she could feel the heat of his breath along her neck. “Yer safe, Nenani. Was just a dream, darlin’. Just a bad dream...”

“Yale,” Farris’s gruff voice spoke from somewhere to Nenani’s right. “Go on an’ get that lil’un t’bed.”

She did not hear Yale responded, but his hands slowly and with measures and practiced care scooped her into the crook of one arm before he turned towards the barracks. She felt a moment of panic as the passed through the curtains and into the pitch dark of the room and even more so when Yale lowered her down onto a pillow. She grabbed onto his shirt as he tried to pull away.

“S’alright. Just let me light a candle, eh?” Her fingers reluctantly released the fabric and she listened with baited breath as Yale hurried to light a candle. A flicker of yellow flame appeared nearby as the candle’s wick caught the flame of the match. Yale sat it inside a small oval cutout in the wall near his bunk and crouched down to be eye level with Nenani.

“Better?”

Nenani nodded, but it was a lie. Yale seemed to sense it as well and slowly reached out a hand towards her. He patted her hair softly as Nenani sniffed and tried to control her hiccuping sobs. “Yer shakin’, Dumplin’. Must’ve been a bad one to set ya off like this.”

Her throat felt clogged and too tight to answer so she just nodded.

“Wanna tell me what it was about? Might help some,” Yale offered. “Was it that Creag bastard?”

She shook her head.

“...was it Farris?”

She shook her head vehemently and managed a thick sounding, “...n-no...not Farris.”

“Keral then? Knowin’ him, he probably made ya think ya were in real deep trouble when he found ya in the halls with no marker.”

She shook her head again.

“Well...” Yale probed further. “Wanna tell me? You don’t have ta if ya don’t wanna.”

She was able to meet his gaze at last and could see the real concern in them. Yale had been endlessly kind to her ever since she first arrived. He always hung around and stepped in to defend her whenever he felt he was needed and always made sure she was fed and had company. She utterly trusted Yale possibly more than anyone else in all of Vhasshal. And before she really understood what she was saying, the words left her lips.

“...there are...dead people...in the walls...”

#Dumpling #Fantasy Story #giant #giants #tiny #human #Vhasshal #Nenani #Jae #Farris #Yale #nightmare

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