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pendarling · 2 months ago

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Curly & Dark

Hero lightly brushed their fingers against the tight curls and looked at their reflection.

"Oh, didn't you know? Villain likes looser and longer hair so..."

They were in shambles, and they hated to admit it. They didn't like their enemy, no, only offended that anyone could assume that at all. Especially their friend; why did they say that? Nothing was wrong with their curls, at least nothing they could think of. Who cares if Villain likes lighter skin and eyes?

That had nothing to do with them, and who told their friend what Villain preferred? They could be lying. Villain always lied.

Not to them, of course, or at least Hero hoped so. Villain was very careful with their words when they whispered sweet poems in their ear when they got too close for comfort in their hand-to-hand combats. Villain's eyes didn't lie when they stared longingly back at Hero; their body gave away their feelings. Hero knew it all too well and was confident that Villain couldn't care less about their dumb curls or their skin.

It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. It's a stupid claim, but it still hurts.

Hero's breathing quickened as they frowned deeply at themselves through the mirror with fingers caught up in the strands of hair and oh...

Hero thought, 'What a strange appearance. None of my peers look the way I do.' They huffed and walked slowly out of the bathroom, 'That should be a good thing. I stand out.'

It didn't feel good, however. Their head replayed the scene from earlier again.

Hero stood in front of their friend, and their friend smiled at them when they said it, trying to let them know kindly of the situation. They cared and didn't want Hero's heart to be broken when it would be revealed that Villain was just bullying them afterall.

"They have bad intentions; we all know Villain doesn't like curly hair, so it doesn't make sense... you're suit... yeah, that's probably why they said all that. If you wore something else, it would've been different."

Hero's suit now lay on their bed; they've worn it for years and never thought it played a part in their world. Was it too revealing? Inappropriate? Hero liked it; it was created to accommodate Hero's powers. They didn't think of it as anything else, but assuming it was attracting the wrong kind of attention, Hero was willing to wear something new.

They couldn't stop thinking all night after earlier. The next time they saw Villain, they should start ignoring them. Whatever Villain was up to was too cruel. If they hated someone that looked like them, then they should stop interacting completely.

At least that's what they told themselves to do, but still, Hero found themselves taking up another job that would require them to see Villain again.

They sat waiting on the ledge of their usual meeting spot on the roof of a building far from home. Any second now, they'd hear Villain's voice call their name with a ring in it that made their heart skip.

"There you are."

Hero sat up straighter and turned around. "Hi." Hero shyly spoke. It was less confident than they anticipated. Their hands immediately went to touch their hair again; the messy thing always got in the way, and they had taken the time to flat-iron it that morning before showing up. They couldn't remember the last time they straightened their hair; it's been a while, and they accidentally burned their ear with the hot rod in their haste to get it done as quickly as possible as if the curls were a disease.

"You look different," Villain noted, widely smiling as they set their gaze on them.

They swallowed their nervousness and stood up. "Uhm.. yeah, thought I could use a change."

"Looks good."

Hero wanted to ask if it was true. Still, something forced their tongue down even when silence fell into their conversation, where they'd usually idly chat for a good few more minutes before getting into their usual spar.

Villain's hand reached for their belt and pulled out the hilt of their sword. "May I have this dance?" They stepped closer and aimed at them, waiting for a response.

"Try to keep up this time." Hero's hand glowed a shallow colour, just enough to get them riled up.

They fought bravely as usual, each blow heavier than the last, quicker and matching Villain's attacks.

Their smile persisted throughout the entire duration. Hero dodged Villain's sword and slashed at the air with a sharp flick of their wrist. A thin line of energy burst from their hands, and the Villain deflected it with their sword.

Hero took another step back, catching the blade with their hand and twisting it away from their body, unaware that they'd run out of places to move as they felt their back pressed against a wall.

"So quick to lose," Villain smirked as they panted hard from their chest and out. Hero could feel their body buzzing with excitement; although some doubts still lingered, it was all irrelevant at this moment. "Or did you want me to corner you like this?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Hero breathed heavily, all too happy for their liking. They could feel the heat on their face, hotter than it was supposed to be after hardly fighting.

When Villain stepped closer, Hero felt their smile falter a bit. An unreasonable fear consumed their head as they repressed the feeling of touching their hair again. "Ever wonder," Villain began, "What it would be like outside the mask?" Their head tilted slightly with that same crooked smile they'd grown so used to.

"No..." Hero whispered, "There's nothing interesting."

Villain laughed lightly, "Not even yourself?" They leaned down closer, their fingers tapping at the hilt of their sword while Hero's sweating palms rubbed the rough brick behind them, memorizing every crevice.

"Not even myself." Their eyes flickered downward, then back up again, "And you?"

"I have lots to offer." They casually answered.

Hero rolled their eyes, "Sure you do."

They heard them huff and mock a shocked expression. "You're questioning me?" Villain placed a hand on their chest. "I have what you could only dream of-- what you couldn't comprehend."

"Like what?" Hero pressed.

The criminal shrugged and crossed their arms, "Nice try, but I'm selective about who I choose to tell."

'Selective.' Hero reiterated in their head and licked their lips; the feeling that tormented them the other night returned. Itching up their throat and successfully stopping Hero from pursuing the conversation any further.

"You're awfully quiet," Villain remarked and moved back from them slowly, their eyes analyzing the way Hero stood almost slumped up against the wall. "Usually, you're so much more hot-headed."

"You like hot-headed?" Hero quickly snapped. It came out more disgruntled than they wanted. Hero didn't know what overcame them; what was supposed to be a good sensation had burned into a simmering hatred for this strange relationship they had. Hero took a deep breath, their brows furrowed as they stared at their shoes and tried to stop themselves before it was too late.

"Relax." Villain's voice cut through their head. "I just wanted you to know that you're acting out of character."

Hero didn't even bother this time and felt their hands grasping at the air before they could understand. Each fist went flying at Villain, aiming to hit as hard as possible.

Villain played defence, avoiding each one of their punches with swift movements and slight turns. "What's the matter, Hero? I think you've gotten--"

"Shut up!" Their first, burning a bright array of white and yellow, shoved into the metal frame of a nearby door; the ground cracked beneath them upon impact, and Villain stumbled as they went behind Hero with that same obnoxious laughter.

Villain's brows raised, impressed as they whistled at the scene, "Careful, that could break your hand."

"I said stop talking to me!" Hero went to hit them again, throwing enough of their energy to tear Villain's sword away from their hands when they went to deflect again.

Hero never got Villain's weapon away from them before. It surprised them how much they could do, and the surprise made them nearly trip if Villain hadn't caught them just in time. Their powers faded slowly as Hero's emotions dropped back down again. Something about being held so closely has thrown them out of focus.

"I said be careful didn't I?" They softly uttered. Hero's heartbeat fell back into its strange rhythm as usual, a different kind of beat that played a romantic song in their head and repeated itself for weeks. It was then that they grew keenly aware where Villain's hand were placed, so neatly on each side of their waist and so gentle with them. Hero's eyes blinked with confusion until they buried their head into Villain's chest.

"Sorry." They muffled the apology, still holding tears back.

"It's okay." Villain's hands grasped at their suit, slightly tugging at its edges.

They shook their head, "No, it's not." Their lips trembled, and a few drops of tears escaped them as their mind muddled in the confusion of being torn between truth and agonizing desperation. They couldn't stop themselves from saying what they hoped they could hide, "Do you like curly?" Hero heard themselves whisper, wishing they had more control over what they said when Villain didn't respond right away.

Villain's fingers paused. "What? Your hair?"

Hero could only nod, too afraid that the next time they spoke, they would start sobbing uncontrollably.

"I like curly." They murmured. "I like curly... and I like dark." Villain moved one hand to their back, rotating up and down. "Is that what's bothering you?"

Hero sniffled, feeling silly more than ever. "It isn't just teasing then." They said, more to themselves than to their enemy. They smiled under them, their knuckles still stung from the last hit, but that was behind Hero now.

They briefly stood in silence until Villain questioned them again. "Who told you I didn't like it?"

Hero cleared their throat. "A friend."

"Friend?" They stretched the word, sounding more startled as Villain worked through a list of names they'd seen Hero with before. "Which one?"

"The one with blond hair." They answered slowly.

"Hero." They called.

They lifted their head, eyes still foggy. "Yeah?"

"Do me a favour," Villain's thumb came to wipe their tear, "and don't listen to them."

~~~

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year ago

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Chapter Three: Roommates

summary: eddie proposes you move in with him, and you do — for the baby, duh.

warnings: mentions of morning sickness; brief vomit mention; but other than that 7.2k of fluff.

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

——

masterlist | previous chapter, next chapter

——

Though you anticipated seeing more of Eddie in the upcoming months, you hadn’t expected it quite literally the next day. Chrissy had suggested a ‘family dinner’ that Sunday evening, but Steve ended up meeting a work friend to play some golf, and Melody had been fussing all day. When she had helplessly mentioned she hadn’t been able to go food shopping, you offered to go pick up everything she’d need.

It just so happened to be that when you drove up, Eddie’s van was sitting in front of the house, his head visibly bobbing where it was above the steering wheel, fingers dancing along the steering wheel. Curiosity got the better of you and you pulled into the sprawling driveway beside him, rolling your window down and looking in until he’d realized he had been caught and lowered the dial on his music.

The window beside you rolled down next, his head leaning over the center console so he could ask, “Need help? Backseat is looking a little full there.”

“We’re gonna pretend I didn’t just see you having your own private concert?”

“Please,” he laughed, turning the car off. Before you could even argue with him about the endless grocery bags, he was already out of his vehicle and heading over to your trunk. “Pop the trunk. You’re not meant to be lifting much anyway.”

“How do you know?” You walked up beside him, unlocking the trunk to reveal the endless bags hidden within.

“Steve gave me one of his dad books to prepare,” he said, lifting some of the heavier bags first. You reached in to grab some of the lighter ones, resting them high on your hip. “I stayed up all night reading up through the fourth month.”

“Eddie, that’s crazy.”

“I wanted to be prepared.” He shrugged, walking beside you up to the house. “Did you know that the baby’s eyes are closed right now, but they move around? Kind of cool, maybe a little creepy.”

“Definitely creepy,” you echoed, a little impressed he’d done all of that as you entered the home and Chrissy came stumbling out, now no longer with Melody in hand. “She finally went down?”

“Yes, thank goodness.” She approached Eddie, taking a couple of bags to lighten the weight loaded in his arms. “Just put everything on the island, I’ll take care of putting it all away.”

The second trip to the car proved different. Eddie noticed immediately the giant box of diapers and bag of baby clothes you’d yet to bring downstairs. Paused as he took in the sight of the tiny clothes, thumb running over a colorful onesie that peeked out of the plastic.

“Here,” he said thickly, lifting the box of diapers in one arm and the bag in the other, “I’ll help you bring them downstairs.”

Exhaling deeply, you closed the trunk and led him to the side entrance to the apartment. Robin had gone out with some friends, leaving the place empty. Eddie whistled as he stepped in, kicking his shoes off near the door, still wet from the snow that had fallen the night before.

“Uhm…where are you sleeping?” he asked out loud, taking in the space. “I mean, I’ve been here before. I know Robin has the bedroom, but where is your stuff?”

“I’m on the pullout couch,” you explained, walking him over, snatching a laundry basket on the way.

Waving an arm out to him, he handed over the bag of clothing and dropped down onto the couch beside you, the diapers already laid out on the kitchen table.

“You’re not serious.” He eyed you as you pulled outfit after outfit from the bag.

“I sleep right here,” you said, nonplussed.

“You can’t,” he stated plainly, voice rising.

“I mean…I can,” you retorted, tossing baby socks into the basket to be cleaned, “and I do.”

“Move in with me.”

Now you were convinced he’d absolutely lost it. The man who you procreated with was losing his mind, because there was no way in hell you’d heard him correctly.

“I can’t move in with you, I don’t even know you.”

“Look — I own a home. It’s not huge or anything, but it’s better than sleeping on a couch. There’s a guest bedroom you could stay in and another bedroom we could turn into a nursery. But you can’t stay here.”

“I was saving up for my own place,” you explained, tossing another item into the bin. “This is fine for right now. I can’t come live with you, take up your space, uproot your quiet. That’s silly, Eddie.”

“It’s not silly,” he argued, reaching into the bag and holding one of the little sleepers in his hands. He marveled for a moment and then shook his head, like he’d remembered something. “I told you I wanted to help out. Don’t you think it would be easier if, I don’t know, the baby woke up in the middle of the night and you had someone else there who could take care of things? I want to be able to bond with my kid too, you know?”

In theory, it sounded nice. The thought of having Eddie down the hall to assist with diaper changes seemed like a dream. An opportunity you hadn’t even imagined possible before bumping into him at the supermarket. And yet, the facts remained the same as they were: Eddie was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger.

“Just…think about it?” he asked softly, “please?”

You thought about it. For about five minutes after Eddie returned upstairs to help Steve fix something with his car. Apparently, when he wasn’t working on music, he maintained a job as a mechanic at the nearby car shop.

It just didn’t seem logical — his whole suggestion. Or, rather, you convinced yourself it didn’t.

Robin, however, seemed to be on Eddie’s side in regards to the whole ordeal.

Traitorous by your standards, and only further complicated your already swirling thoughts.

“I mean, you’ll have an extra set of hands. Someone else to help change diapers. Help with midnight feedings,” she rationalized, trailing off with a grin lining her features, “Plus the two of you probably need to learn to get along for the next eighteen years. That’s a long time, babe. Only way to do that is if you spend time together.”

——

Moving day happened the next weekend. It all seemed crazy when you thought about it. But then again, you hadn’t thought much about it. Your friends had sat around a table with Eddie after dinner on ‘family night,’ and Chrissy had the lovely idea to make a pro-con list.

That pro list didn’t lie, you’d give it that much.

Despite the beginnings of this ‘relationship,’ you were going to need to figure out how best to navigate the next couple months and the foreseeable future if both parties wanted to be involved in the most important person’s life in this situation.

Because when all the pieces had been laid out, despite your innate desire to protect and nurture them, this baby did have two parents.

And both deserved a part in their life — you knew that.

So arrangements were made and you agreed to moving in with the man. Settled on the fact that this was the best option for the baby, as you were not at all inclined to think about that man in any way other than friendship.

Especially not when he’d walked in from (conspiratorially) helping Steve work on his car for a couple days in a row while you waited for moving day, feet up on the couch reading a book, noticing his tee shirt covered in grease, hands the same color, hair pulled back into a ponytail.

It was the hormones, that was all. They were the ones betraying your body, not you. Because in the rational part of your mind, relationships failed. You’d seen it more times than you could count. Loved ones going through a divorce, friends falling in and out of love, your own failed relationships. It wasn’t worth it trying to complicate an already tangled web with feelings. Feelings were fleeting anyway.

The butterflies that kicked up whenever Eddie was near? Fleeting. The way you swore your heart skipped that first afternoon when Steve had helped you unload some of your things on moving day and Eddie entered from the bathroom, shirt pulled up to wipe at his sweaty forehead? Fleeting. The way your insides melted when you perused the living room and kitchen as the guys walked back out to your car to bring in the last of your boxes, only to find his What to Expect When You’re Expecting book perched on his coffee table, and a picture you’d given him from a recent ultrasound on his kitchen? Fleeting, with a capital ‘f.’

Eddie’s home itself was adorable. A small, three bedroom, one bathroom, with one level. The interior was a mix of darker furniture and sparse walls. He’d already agreed that you could spruce things up if you wanted to, and you’d immediately made notes that first day he gave you a tour. You loved the place — from the open plan of the kitchen and dining room, to his bedroom full of music memorabilia and Dungeons and Dragons merchandise (that you definitely teased him about), to your bedroom, with its white walls and olive bedding. There was a tan dresser on the far wall, and a floor to ceiling mirror on the back of the door. Simple, for the time being.

He’d brought you to the additional room next, had smiled at you and leaned an elbow up on the doorframe. “I figure a crib can go on that back wall. The closets are pretty decent sized. Maybe a dresser on the left wall, and the changing table over there. You could probably fit a rocking chair next to the crib, too.”

“Eddie…”

He sounded so hopeful. So expectant of what the future held. Smiled to himself like he could imagine his son or daughter in this room and radiated pride with it.

“We can get paint after we find out what it is.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. Those dark eyes of his met yours. “I know it’s not the biggest, but I think it’s good for now.”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, brushing at your eyes with the back of your hands, overwhelmed by the thought that in just a few short months your baby would be here, sleeping in this room in this house. “Damn hormones. I am not crying.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he chuckled, moving back down the hall toward the kitchen. “I’m going to start dinner. How do you feel about grilled cheese since we’ve been unpacking all day?”

Maybe you moaned a bit. And maybe Eddie laughed. And maybe you’d actually stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone, but you found yourself hopeful. Excited for the future standing before you, and followed him back down the hall with dreams of gooey cheesy goodness on your mind.

——

The first couple of days proved to be an adjustment. On the first night, you padded into the bathroom, eyes still half-closed, bladder full, and screeched as you fell backward and careened into the toilet bowl.

Eddie sprang up out of bed at your terror, nearly crashing down the door, asking, “What happened? Is something wrong? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Eddie! Close your eyes, I’m naked!”

“Pretty sure seeing you naked is how we got into this situation.” He clapped a palm over his eyes.

“Do not even go there! You’re on thin ice as it is.”

“Jesus Christ, just tell me what happened, will you?! You scared me half to death.”

“Eddie Munson,” you nearly snarled, snatching a towel from the rack to cover yourself with, “did you leave the toilet seat up?”

“I mean…I may have.”

“Eddie!”

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “To be fair, I did live alone for the past five or so years here.”

“I could have drowned.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think, sweetheart?” His lips tugged upward into a grin that made you want to bash your head backwards against the wall. “And I came to your rescue, didn’t I?”

——

The second day brought long hours at work and a special home cooked dinner when you walked in through the front door. The house smelled amazing, like freshly made sauce and spices, mixed with a candle burning on the coffee table in the living room. You kicked your shoes off at the door and dropped your pocketbook on the ground beside them, shouldering off your jacket and placing it on the coat rack.

Eddie turned around as you entered the kitchen, watching as your hands rubbed up and down the sleeves of your sweater, trying to bring back some warmth into your body. He looked…annoyingly handsome. Feathery curls brushing his shoulders as his head bobbed to the music he had filtering through the radio, dark wash jeans, a thin black sweatshirt. An apron was tied around his waist, sitting low on his hips where his shirt had ridden up just enough to reveal the happy trail you knew slipped beyond his boxers.

Annnd now was not a good time to be thinking about Halloween. Not as you stepped up beside him and asked if he needed any help with anything. “You could grab us some drinks. Maybe grab the cheese from the fridge. I think I have everything else all good to go.”

“So you cook?” you mused, walking over to the refrigerator and grabbing two cans of Coca-Cola and the Parmesan.

“Should you be drinking that?”

“I still have food aversions because of your kid,” you said, pointing down for emphasis, “so I will drink whatever I can keep down at the moment. And right now that sounds like Coca-Cola.”

“Point taken.” He nodded, raising the volume a bit on the radio.

It sounded angry. Something metal, you assumed. Curiosity piqued, you asked, “Is this the kind of music you play? It sounds interesting.”

“Yeah. This one is actually ‘Master of Puppets.’ I learned it in a matter of a couple days back in my senior year of high school. Wayne had gotten me the album since I’d been passing all my classes. Was really nice of him.”

“A couple days?” Your elbows leaned onto the counter beside him, listening to the lyrics about obeying your master, and a master of puppets pulling strings. “That’s really incredible.”

“You could watch us play sometime?” Eddie suggested, dialing down the knob on the radio. “I’d…like for you to meet the guys. They’re also in town. We sometimes play smaller gigs at the Hideout. Kind of where we started, back when we were in high school.”

“That would be really cool,” you said, just as Eddie opened the oven and revealed rows of endless garlic bread.

Normally, you’d be over the moon. Ready to consume said garlic bread by the bucket full. But the scent — oh god, the scent had your stomach churning like waves lashing at the hull of a ship. Had your belly tightening, hand coming up to rest over your mouth as you dry heaved into a palm.

Eddie whirled around with the tray in hand and glanced worriedly at your face, feet carrying him closer as he prattled, “Are you okay?”

You held out your other hand in a silent warning of ‘stay back,’ heaving once more into your palm. “Please.”

He tossed the bread onto the stove top and called out your name, but you’d already rushed down the hall and expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet, grasping onto the porcelain edges for dear life. A second wave crashed over you and you groaned, forehead dropping down against the wall of the shower, the chilly exterior cooling your clammy skin.

Eddie’s head popped in hesitantly as you lay there, curly hair bouncing about his shoulders as he reached around in the medicine cabinet and tossed one of the ginger candies Chrissy had given you by the bucket full, because while her morning sickness had faded after the start of the second trimester, yours had yet to do so.

“Anything I can do?” he asked, dropping down onto the ground, back against the sink cabinets.

“You’ve done enough,” you grumbled, popping the candy into your mouth with one hand, the other running over your midsection to quell the nausea. “I’m so sorry because I know you probably spent ages working on it, and I’m so grateful, but I need you to throw away the garlic bread.”

“No good?” You shook your head and he grimaced apologetically. “Let me go grab you some water and I’ll make sure to vanquish the evil bread before I come back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe, okay?”

You pressed a hand over your heart, feigning a faint. “My hero.”

He smirked, and you hated that fluttering wings stirred in your belly because of it.

——

The third evening brought with it a conversation as you readied for a night out with your friends. Chrissy and Steve had gotten a babysitter, and the two of you decided to meet up with them for some food and drinks at a local restaurant.

It sounded like a double date, and with your life already complicated enough being nearly eighteen weeks pregnant as February grew closer and closer to a close, you needed to make sure Eddie understood your friendship needed to remain the one stable thing in your life.

Because, for all intents and purposes, that was exactly what the two of you were. Roommates and friends. The kind of people who greeted each other after a day of work, maybe shared a bit about their day, ate at the dinner table together, and drifted off to bed separately.

An endless, platonic sleepover — with someone who you just happened to have previously slept with. But that wasn’t happening again; not even with the increased hormones running rampant in your body, insistent on keeping you on edge at nearly all hours of the day.

Luckily for you, the shower stall provided just the perfect sound barrier and proper channel to take care of such…urges, and Eddie remained none the wiser to it.

You could do this. You were doing this.

You found Eddie that evening adjusting the sleeves of his leather jacket in the living room. He’d gone with dark pants, a red shirt beneath, and that signature black leather jacket that should be a crime to society because of how well fitted it was to his body. His hair hung loose around his shoulders, a sparkly earring you’d never noticed before dangling in his ear as you approached.

“Don’t make fun,” you groused, stepping into the living area, “I need to go shopping, my sweaters are getting tighter now.”

You’d worn simple black boots, a pair of your newer jeans, and a cream knitted sweater that maybe only had a few weeks left of use in it.

“You look great,” he reassured. “You always look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You glanced down at your feet, a little bashful, nervousness welling. “And hey — thank you for the past couple of days. I know it has to be weird having me here.”

“It’s different, having another person in the house. But it feels right.”

“I’m really happy that we’re doing this whole…friendship and parenting thing,” you continued, watching the corners of his mouth twitch downward just the slightest. “I just think that’s best for the baby.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” he asked, and you swore you could hear the hurt lining his words.

“Sex complicates things. Obviously, we’ve already learned that,” you began, toying with the ring on his middle finger, “so I think we should keep things friendly. It’ll be better in the long run.”

As in, Halloween was to remain a memory and not something revisited.

“Is that what you think?” He sounded doubtful, but you knew he’d respect it without issue. You’d learned that much in the short while of knowing him.

“Yeah.”

Even though you craved him. Chalked it up to human instinct to want to be nearer to the man, but you pushed it into the caverns of your mind. Locked it away in a box, to remain untouched.

“Then we’ll work on being best friends,” he agreed, stepping forward to loop his arms around your shoulder and tug you in close for a friendly hug, “for the baby.”

——

You found out Eddie wasn’t a fan of spinach in his eggs by the fifth day. You had ended up making extra anyway, and since he was kind enough to cook dinner without even asking most nights, you thought you might do the same. He whistled upon entering the kitchen, face growing pale at the plate you smiled gleefully at when you exclaimed ‘I made you breakfast.”

He still ate them despite your countless protests that he absolutely didn’t have to. Poor guy had grinned at you through what looked like terror in his eyes, swallowing each bite with an emphasized hum of forced pleasure. And damn it he didn’t need to look so good like that, freshly crumpled shirt from bed, bicep reaching up to rub at his neck, revealing dark swirling ink on his limbs, hair in a messy bun at the back of his head since he’d end up pulling it back for work anyway.

“Eddie.” You laughed, pulling your chair closer to the table in the kitchen, stabbing at your own eggs. “You really don’t have to eat them. I just figured you’ve been so kind feeding me literally all week, I wanted to help out a bit. Do my own part around the house.”

He shrugged, popping a blueberry in his mouth. “You really don’t have to. I enjoy cooking. Might not be great at it, but I like it.”

“Yeah, but I want to contribute more,” you explained, chewing at a strawberry and swallowing it down with some water. “You’ve given up two rooms in your home. Maybe I can do some of the chores. Dishes after dinner, laundry — I don’t know.”

His mouth twitched at that, dark eyes rising to meet your own. “Deal.”

“Really? I thought I was going to have to grovel. Seeing as you haven’t let me lift a finger in days.”

“I hate laundry,” he stated plainly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you drive a hard bargain, Buttercup.”

“Then great, I’ll start now —”

“Sit down,” he chuckled, hand curling around your forearm before you could rise from the table, hip nearly bumping the corner in your hastiness. “Finish your breakfast. And the water. Please.”

A twinkle gleamed in his eye. Something that made butterflies burst low in your belly. “What is your day looking like?”

“I have work till around four, and then I thought I would invite some of the guys over since it’s Friday. If that’s okay?”

“It’s your home.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours too now.”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Would you want to meet them? I’ve told them about you,” he said, then glanced down beneath the table, “and you.”

“Yeah, sure.” Your back leaned against the wooden chair, a deep exhale falling from your lips. “Do you want to go food shopping together? Get some drinks and snacks?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart.”

——

Laughter filled the home. Loud and boisterous. A sound that had you beaming from ear to ear, shuffling about the kitchen as you familiarized with where Eddie preferred everything to go. Snacks away in the pantry. Cookies easily accessible in another cabinet in case he ever needed one (you didn’t question it). Placed various paper plates and napkins bought for the evening on the kitchen counter, the plastic utensils in a holder beside them, plastic cups face down nearby.

He made quick work of putting everything else perishable in the fridge, making sure to grab what you’d need for the cookies you decided to make. After perusing the aisles together for what felt like hours, the thought jumped to Eddie’s mind to bake.

A perfect bonding moment, he said, and he was right. There was no arguing about the intimacy of baking with one another. A fact made more prominent as he draped his little apron around his hips and grabbed a giant bowl, some mixing utensils, and a baking pan and placed them down in front of you.

While he did that, you rooted around for the ingredients you needed. Vanilla, flour, brown and white sugar, chocolate chips, eggs, cornstarch, salt and the like. The oven was preheated, the pans slicked, and prepped for baking.

Shoulders pressed together as the two of you worked in tandem. Tossing ingredients into a bowl, taking turns mixing, laughing as you accidentally flicked sugar over the lip of the bowl and a streak of white remained in its wake along Eddie’s abdomen. Tongue dipping out to drag along your bottom lip, you steeled your gaze up above, in the bowl, on the task at hand.

In another bowl, Eddie began mixing the flour, baking soda, and salt. Frantically, he’d done it so frantically, with his smirk you’d grown to love lining those perfectly plush lips. Laughter bursted up from deep within you, flour flicking across Eddie’s cheek at the jolt of the sound, his smile spreading wider as you paused in your own mixing and stepped closer to him.

He stilled on the spot, fingers twitching at his sides as your midsection bumped against the harder lines of his abdomen, palm reaching up toward his face.

At his raised brow, you whispered, “Got a little something…right here.”

A low sweep. Your finger arced in a low sweep against his cheek where flour had painted him a ghostly white. Dark eyes trailed your face, over the lines of your mouth, the fullness of your lips — then flickered up to your eyes, and you heard his breath as it faltered.

Cheeks burning, you whirled away, returning to your bowl. “I got it all. Good as new.”

He leaned in closer, bringing both bowls nearer to one another. “We mix the two now. And then it’s the chocolate chips.”

Watching as he did as explained, you reached across the countertop to grab the chocolate chips. Snipped the top edge off the package when Eddie instructed you to do so, and poured the contents within. Before long, you had a perfectly mixed cookie dough, ripe for baking.

“We’re not so bad at this,” Eddie mused once you began spooning small dollops onto the baking sheets strewn about the countertops. “Granted, it’s not parenting. But the working together thing — I think we’ve got it.”

“It’s baking,” you said, wrinkling your nose at his words.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, nudging you with his elbow, “but we communicated through every step, and I think that’ll come in handy.”

“If you’re trying to convince me into thinking you’ll be a good father, you don’t have to,” you said, laughing. “I already know you will be.”

He paused beside you, faltering in his movements, and you wondered if you said something wrong. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you promised, understanding from the look on his face, the nervousness in his eyes, the doubt that there was a deeper conversation to be had here. “You know that too, right? That you’ll be a good father.”

Eddie swallowed, mouth settling into a firm line. “I think I’m still trying to accept that this is happening a little bit. It’s only been a week or so. And I guess it’s probably a little different for me —”

“Because you haven’t seen them?” you asked, recalling at your last doctor’s visit he’d only gotten to hear the heartbeat. His only visual was residing on his refrigerator, in the form of a black and white photo he’d not been present for the taking of. “I feel like…it’s also different because I know they’re there. Always. I haven’t really felt them yet. Maybe a little here and there, but I’m not really sure — I just know they’re there. But you’ll get those moments too, you know? You’ll bond with them, Eddie. They’re going to love you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said softly, a little sadly, placing the baking trays into the oven and setting a timer for the allotted time.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?” His head perked up, just as you flicked leftover flour at his shirt. “Oh, so it’s going to be like that, huh?”

“Like what?”

Your tone was teasing, light as Eddie backed you up against the counter, his front against yours, him reaching over your shoulder to grab a handful of sugar from an opened container. Heart hammering at his proximity, you allowed yourself a brief moment to relish in the feeling of his form pressed solidly against yours as he sprinkled the dusty sugar over the crown of your head.

“That’s rude, Edward.”

The man reached over your shoulder again and snatched chocolate morsels in his palm, popping one within his mouth. As your head leaned in, body still against the countertop, he took the hint and pressed two against your lips, grinning as your mouth parted just enough to slip them behind your teeth.

Like this, you could feel his breath against your lips. Could see the dark depths of his eyes, the little honeyed flecks that lay within. The dark swirl of his lashes, the arches of his cheeks, the little freckles you hadn’t even noticed the night he’d worshiped your body over and over again, the curve of his bottom lip, the pillowy nature of the top one.

“I’m really happy you —”

Eddie’s words were cut off by the doorbell ringing. Followed up by a swift knock against wood that had you shifting up and away from the counter. Eddie’s hands were there at your biceps to help steady you as your body swayed with the suddenness of your movement.

“That’ll be your friends,” you stated softly, dusting off the remnants of the sugar from your shoulders. “Introduce me, will you? Little nervous here.”

He rubbed at the soft of your shoulder. “Don’t stress about it. They’re gonna love you.”

——

Charmed.

All of his friends were charmed as soon as you’d walked in, holding a tray of various appetizers on a plate and settling them down on the coffee table, smiling prettily and laughing as one by one they’d introduced themselves.

Commented on how beautiful you were, how they couldn’t believe Eddie had ever had a chance, how you were glowing. And damn it, he’d never thought someone prettier than you looked at that moment. You had the room eating out of your palm in minutes, Jeff insisting you join in on the fun, nearly tugging you down onto the couch cushions beside him.

“Careful,” Gareth laughed, tossing a chip in his mouth, “Eddie’s got eyes on the back of his head these days.”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder to shoot a glare Gareth’s way. Noticed as Murphy slowly shifted on the couch as the night went on, as he leaned over and tapped you on the shoulder. Watched as your mouth softened a bit as he apologized, as the words he spoke rolled over the room. That he’d thought it was a terrible ploy when you’d called, that he didn’t mean anything by it, that he could never forgive himself for what he’d done.

When Eddie had gotten home the night he found out he was to be a father, he’d nearly booked another flight back out to California to demand answers.

Instead, the phone call came late at night, Gareth nearly half asleep when he picked up and Eddie growled down the line that someone had to speak up and fast.

Apparently, Murphy had truly thought it was a joke. A prank. Someone trying to foist off a baby on Eddie, just conveniently on the back end of their band appearing in the news as rising stars to watch, to try and obtain some money or notoriety. He’d been doing it out of ‘protection’ and to some degree he understood because of situations in the past and with other bands they’d seen in the business, but on the other he’d been robbed of time.

Precious time that had hurt you in the end. For two months you’d lived with the hurt and sting of rejection — with the thought he had wanted you to do this alone. That this was your cross and yours alone to bear. He hated that. Resented it because it reminded him of his late mother’s face, of the sadness she bore when his father had finally walked out and left them high and dry.

Murphy had cried, because he hadn’t known. Hadn’t known it was the same girl from the party. The fucker had cried and Eddie wanted to hate him, wanted to yell, wanted to shout because of it all — but he couldn’t. Because he pictured that little profile of a face on that black and white picture he’d tucked away in his coat jacket, he pictured your smiling face, closed his eyes and thought of that damn heartbeat and he knew he couldn’t.

Wayne raised him better. Wayne. When everyone else had walked out on him, his uncle remained.

But then you had to go and crush his heart further by leaning over and folding your hand over his bandmates, before dragging him closer for a tight hug, forgiving him.

It was hard being friends with you, harder living with you, when you just continued to do things like that. Loved those around you deeply, openly, even though you kept him at a distance.

Kept what he represented at a distance.

And he understood. Understood that with him it was different, the stakes were higher, there were other parties involved. It never stopped the wishing, the wanting, the waiting and wondering though. The ‘what ifs’ that kept him up at night, when you’d long since shut your bedside lamp, shrouding your side of the hall in darkness. But he respected your desires to keep things friendly for the sake of the unborn child. Understood that if this was what you thought best, he’d put aside his own feelings for the betterment of yours.

So for now he watched as his friends crowded around you. As they welcomed you with open arms into the band, as Jeff mentioned you should come over and meet his wife, June, and have dinner over their place soon. As Gareth invited you (overriding the fact Eddie was still Dungeon Master) to their next planned night (he wanted to ask you anyway). As Murphy waited on you hand and foot, making sure you never had to get up for the duration of the movie you all ended up watching, there with snacks and water at the ready.

And later, as the guys left and you fell asleep with your head on the armrest of the couch, Eddie tried to squash down the ache that formed in his chest when he rubbed your shoulder and your eyes fluttered open, your mouth rounding into a yawn, before settling on his dark stare.

Tried to suppress the affection that bubbled up as he helped you to your feet with a hand around yours, the furrow of your brow as you tugged a pillow close to your chest, the soft shuffle of your slippers against the carpeted floor as you both walked down the hall to your bedrooms.

“Goodnight,” you muttered with a soft wave.

It was a punch to the gut, the way you smiled at him in the night, the lamplight spilling into the hall shrouding you in a golden halo.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He waved back and you turned in for the night, darkness shrouding your end of the hall.

He remained awake for hours.

——

A few days turned into another week.

You entered your nineteenth of pregnancy, tossed some clothes that no longer fit into a bin in your closet, and made room for newer things.

Life with Eddie became almost natural. An extension of what you’d known before with Robin. You came home every day to a cooked meal or takeout with him, shared about your days, watched movies and read books together, and slipped away at the end of the night. Every night.

He was easy to live with. Mostly cleaned up after himself (except for the hair he’d left to sit on the inside of the shower curtain some days and the numerous pots and pans he left out whenever cooking). But he’d been a perfectly wonderful roommate, and an even more caring friend.

You supposed part of that was the fact that, because you were growing his kid, he wanted to make sure you were both taken care of. Always asking if you needed snacks for the work day, if you’d drank enough water, gotten enough sleep.

Already concerned, and endearingly so.

A hum spilled from your lips. A familiar Madonna tune playing from the shoddy radio Eddie kept in the laundry room, connected to the garage. A laundry basket sat propped on one hip, as your hands reached down into the washing machine to pluck whites from within.

With a wrinkled brow, you held aloft one of Eddie’s white work tees. Now an interesting pink color, tinged like the numerous other shirts and socks strewn within. The further you dug, the more you found. A onesie for the baby, once white, now pink. One of your tank tops. The edges of some of your socks.

The culprit? A red pair of his boxers, tossed deep within the washing machine, the same color of rubies. A huffed breath spilled from you, laundry basket propped up on the drying machine before you slipped back down the hall from where you came and entered the living room.

He lay sprawled out on the couch, watching a movie, a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips. His top half was covered in a black tee, and over that one of his red plaid shirts, which resembled that same pair of boxers you’d come to reprimand him about, caught up in the disarming sight that was always Eddie Munson.

That increasingly familiar head of dark hair shifted where his head lay propped against a couch cushion. Dark eyes framed by long lashes lifted to meet yours, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled up at you, holding aloft a bag of your favorite wavy potato chips.

He knew you’d been craving them and bought a few bags on the way home from work. Damn him for always knowing. A hand reached into the bag and pulled out a few, mouth watering around the salty goodness before you once again remembered why you’d come out of the laundry room to find him.

“Eddie, dearest.”

“Yes?” He lifted himself up at that, waving you over to settle down beside his hip on the couches. “Why do you have that look in your eye?”

“I get a look in my eye?”

“Yeah, it’s the ‘she’s going to kill someone’ look,” he explained, and it gave you pause, brow arching, “hey, hey. I can see that little wrinkle above your brow — don’t be upset with me now, sweetheart. You don’t do it often but I’ve seen it before. Like the other day when I used the last of the milk for my cereal.”

“Yeah, because you used the last of it on your second bowl when I hadn’t gotten any,” you said, brows furrowing higher on your forehead, “but I wasn’t really mad. I was just hungry — and I, well I — are you trying to say you think I’m mean?”

“Oh no. No no no,” he murmured, gathering your shoulders in his arms, tugging you into an embrace that you definitely didn’t protest. As your face pushed into his chest, you sighed, eyes on the television ahead, that extremely hormonal sadness roiling in your gut. “I know that look too. I don’t want you to be sad and cry over it. I’m only joking. What did I do? Be mad at me instead. Just don’t wanna see you cry; I hate that.”

“Left a pair of red boxers in the washer when I was doing whites,” you grumbled into his warm skin. “All our whites are now pink. Even the little baby clothes.”

He gasped, “Not the little baby clothes!”

“Edd-ie.” A whine spilled from you and he chuckled, the abruptness of his laugh jolting your head. A sniffle shook your form and Eddie hugged you tighter. “Gosh, I’m so backwards. Morning sickness? Supposed to be gone by now for most people, and I still have it. Crying at the drop of a hat in the first trimester? Try the second too. Whoever said this whole thing was beautiful hasn’t met me.”

“Hey now.” Eddie shifted you on his chest, finger tipping your chin up to look at the ridiculously goofy grin he had on. “Don’t be mean to my friend, okay? I happen to think she’s pretty fucking great. And she’s beautiful. Plus she’s making this whole growing a literal human thing look like a walk in the park.”

“You mean it?” Your head wiggled up along his chest, rumpling the fabric of his shirt, stopping at his collarbone.

“There are many things people have called me through the years, but I don’t think liar is one of them,” he said, and the sincerity lacing his tone had you easing against his chest, watching the people move about on the television screen. “Come on now. Grab that blanket and watch the movie with me. We can always get new stuff, don’t stress yourself out over my silly mistake. I’ll take care of it.”

Lifting long enough to grab the blanket in question, you reached over and draped it over both your thighs, head looming above where it had been against his collarbone. Eyes searched his face imploringly and he tucked you back down against him, exhaling deeply as you laid there, warmth seeping into his skin, the comforting weight of you against him welcomed there.

Friends cuddled, right? And you were great friends with Eddie Munson.

“What movie is this anyway?” you asked, reaching over for the VHS box settled near his opposite thigh. “Star Wars? What’s that?”

Eddie tensed. “Are you telling me you’ve never seen these? Am I about to take your Star Wars virginity?”

A giggle bursted free from your lips, hand coming to rest over his sternum, rubbing idly. “I’m kidding.”

“I was going to say we needed to fix that and have a full marathon. My kid is getting fed Star Wars even before they’re born.”

“We could still have a marathon,” you suggested, nuzzling deeper into his skin, body relaxing further. “It’s raining, I’m just doing laundry. Perfect day for it.”

He grinned to himself, ringed fingers coming to rest at the top of your head. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart. Now shh, I hate talking during movies.”

“Oh so he’s one of those. Filing that one away for later,” you teased, wincing as he flashed a glare your way.

But he smiled at you right after, and you didn’t know what to do about the stutter in your pulse that followed shortly behind.

——

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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wosowrites · 1 year ago

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One Time Won’t Hurt (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️smut smut smut. like… loads of it⚠️

prompt: in which you and alexia try to convince each other that one time won’t hurt, but it doesn’t end up being one time.

a/n: this is so bad but i wanted to get something out for u guys

Bodies tangled, lips a mess, hands feeling, touching, exploring, hips grinding, loud moaning. And that was all before clothes even came off. "One time," you exhaled into her lips, pressing your foreheads together and letting your breath get mixed. "One time won’t hurt," she added, putting her hands on your ass and pushing you impossibly closer into her.

You audibly whimpered and then gasped as she started kissing your neck. Alexia moved aside the strap of your shirt and then your bra, kissing your shoulder.

You breathed out, digging your nails into her back and moaning into her ear. "Yeah. One time," your cried out.

Five hours earlier

Alexia, Mapi, Ingrid, Sandra, Patri, Keira and Lucy were sitting in your apparement, having wine, cheeses, charcuterie and other snacks. You were all talking, laughing and having fun. Only issue was your spanish wasn’t great and although you tried to concentrate and really understand what they were saying, you were mostly just exchanging lost looks with Keira.

Eventually, you got up and went into the kitchen to open another bottle of rosé. Keira followed suite.

"Jesus. I don’t know what they’re saying. I heard my name and they all looked at me and laughed and I did too but I do not know what they said," you sighed. "I mean we take spanish classes like three times a week and then in real life they talk so speedy it just-" you started ranting. "They said you were clumsy during training today," Keira said, popping open a bottle of champagne. "I was gonna open wine, and how did you get that?" you asked her, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. "Okay so maybe i’m becoming able to pick up sentences here and there…" she said. "No. No, no, I can not be the only non spanish speaker on the team Kei. I’m cutting you off from spanish lessons!" you groaned, walking into the living room.

You spent the rest of the gathering zoned out on Alexia. She was sitting with her legs slighting open and her arms crossed and all you could think about was how beautiful she would look in that position minute her clothing.

At 11:00, people started to leave which you were silently grateful as you were tired and honestly feeling left out even though that wasn’t the intention of the girls whatsoever.

You had moved to spain six months ago and had been playing for Barca since the January transfer window. You loved the style of play here and almost everything about it, but you did feel like an outsider.

You bid goodbye to the girls and then let yourself fall on the couch. You sighed heavily, your sigh turning into a tremble as you felt tears come to your eyes. Moving away from england had been harder than you anticipated. You heard movement behind you and shot up to your feet. Alexia stood in the doorway of the washroom. "Sorry, oh, everyone’s gone," she said, looking around. You swiped at your cheeks and nodded. "Uhm, yeah. Sorry I completely forgot you were in there," you said. "It’s okay, I ended up getting a call from Ona so I was in there for a while," she said. "Are you okay y/n/n? You look-"

"Spain is hard," you answered, not wanting to draw out the conversation longer than necessary. "What do you mean?" she asked, sitting down next to you. "I mean that I don’t know what you guys are saying. I pretend I do but I really don’t. And I feel like I’m not good enough to play here," you sighed, putting your head in your hands and resting your elbows on your knees.

"Don’t think that. You are one of the most brilliant players i’ve ever seen. And as for spanish, ditch your tutor. I’ll teach you for free," she said, brushing her fingers through your hair.

And then your feelings of sadness were gone and all you felt was an extreme need for Alexia to be under you.

You straightened up and looked into her eyes. And then you stood up and walked into the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of water and downed it. Alexia stood up and gently walked towards you. Her movements were careful, calm and composed. But the last thing you wanted was careful, calm, and composed. You wanted loud, harsh and possessive.

So that’s what you did. You spun around and almost charged towards her. She looked taken aback but also turned on. You placed your hands on her waist and backed her up into the wall with a loud thud. You moved your hands up and down her hips before squeezing her waist. "Is this okay? Because I don’t want soft and nice. And if that’s what you want tonight I don’t want to push you," you said, looking into her eyes.

"Do whatever you want with me," she moaned.

You audibly whimpered and then gasped as she started kissing your neck. Alexia moved aside the strap of your shirt and then your bra, kissing your shoulder.

You breathed out, digging your nails into her back and moaning into her ear. "Yeah. One time," your cried out.

"Oh i’ll make it hurt," she whispered to you. And although her words made you want to scream of pleasure, you wanted to be in charge.

You lifted Alexia’s legs to wrap around your waist and carried her into the bedroom, attacking her lips and making sure to leave them bruised and swollen. You pushed your stomach against her pussy, wanting her to feel the temptation at her core before you gave her any kind of relief.

You dropped her on the bed and then towered over her. You took a pause to pull off the shirt you were wearing, never looking away from her. You looked straight into her eyes but she was staring at your and, your tits peaking through your bra and the way your arms looked so strong. A crack of thunder echoed outside and the brief thought of how Mapi and Ingrid, who had walked to your appartement, we’re probably stuck in the rain while you were standing over the most beautiful woman in the world.

You snapped out of your trance and looked at her hungrily. You un buttoned her shirt, wanting to be rough but knowing very well her shirt was silk and she would kill you if you broke it. Or at least that’s what you thought. "Fuck just rip it off. Rip it off y/n," she groaned. You did as she wanted, grabbing the shirt above the buttons you had undone and ripping it apart. She shrugged it off and you unbuttoned her pants and pulled them off. You then quickly abandoned your own pants and panties. You pulled off her own panties and then unclipped her bra and your own.

The sight of her was intoxicating. The shape of her breast, the little birth mark just under the left one. "You’re fucking hot," you growled at her. You were much more the kind of person to call girls beautiful but today was a different case. You had one night with her and you would make the most of it. Slowly, you placed yourself on your knees so that your core was over hers. You flattened your body on top of hers while supporting your upper body with your hands at her sides.

You started your attack on her neck by kissing it roughly, sucking it and then nipping at all her sensitive spots.

Alexia was a mess within seconds. Groaning at your touch and screaming when you would randomly collide your knee with her clit. Dripping all over her, you positioned yourself so that her left leg was wrapped around your waist and your pussies rubbed together. You slipped the slow stage and went right into grinding onto her. "Fuck, you’re so perfect," you moaned into her ear, feeling her nails digging into your back. "I thought you were going to be mean," she huffed, dragging her nails down your back. "Rough, not mean," you said to her.

With one last push onto her she came first, moaning your name and crying of pleasure.

You came soon after, your brain fuzzy, your body ecstatic. You didn’t want to push your luck with Alexia, so you let yourself fall beside her. "You okay?" you asked her, your bare chest heaving. "More than. Are you?" she asked. "So okay," you smiled. "I knew you were soft. You’ve always been soft," she said, turning on her side. "Maybe only for you," you giggled.

Needless to say, it didn’t happen just once.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas

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satrs · 1 year ago

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𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; you find out about the class loner's fantasies about you, so you decide to give him the real deal.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Nerdy!Virgin!Choso x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.3k

Tags; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! (College AU). Virginity loss(Choso). Nicknames(pretty boy). riding. overstim. praise kink.

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ nerdy choso is just a desperate need atp. But idk how to feel abt this bc it's literally written by crazy lec LMAO.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

"Mr. Kamo, are you alright?" the sound of his teacher snapped the young college student out of his daydreams, attention now back to the front of the class as his demeanor stiffened.

Some class members snickered at his reaction and others straight up ignored him like he wasn't even there. It's like always- he is an irrelevant member of society until he is of use to them. 'Kamo do you have this homework?' or 'Kamo I need help with this and that?' are the only times when people converse with him normally.

"Gosh, he's such a dork. Right Y/N?" The mention of your name made his ears perk up, slightly looking in your direction as your friend whispered to you. "Just leave him alone for Christ's sake. He didn't do anything abnormal. Daydreaming is completely common, especially for people like you."

But you? You were different. You're not exactly popular around the campus, but sure well-known. You were breathtakingly gorgeous but didn't make it your only personality trait. You- Y/N L/N are the only person that made him feel like he was a part of this college, not just some nerdy loner.

Your words caused the man to try to hide his chuckle but you still caught it, flashing him a cocky smile with a quick wink, startling him. You noticed his flustered expression, smiling to yourself before returning your attention to the teacher's teachings.

-ˋˏ✄��┈┈┈

„Are you free right now, Choso?“

His eyes shot up at the sound of your voice, halting his movements of packing his bag as his eyes turned wide at the mention of his first name. „M-me? Uhm, yeah, s-sure. What’s up?“

You chuckled at his nervous form, biting the inside of your cheek. „You know, I still got no partner for the biology project and I thought, maybe we could partner up?“

His head was about to explode and his heart was almost jumping out of his chest, quickly nodded his head in agreement, swinging his packed bag over his shoulder, anxiously holding onto it.

A smile spread across your face, clapping your hands together in excitement as you abruptly took his hand in yours, heading out of the almost empty classroom. „Let’s go to my dorm right now, yeah?“

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

He awkwardly sat on your bed, cheeks painted in a slight red tone whilst you sat next to him, already changed into a more comfortable hoodie, thighs visible as the hoodie revealed much more than Choso thought he could handle.

„So, I‘m more interested than school for you right now? That’s a surprise.“ Your teasing made him clear his throat, quickly averting his gaze to the textbook on his lap, opening it to the right page as he began to explain the steps the both of you would have to keep in mind, trying his best to ignore the feeling you ignited in him.

It was hard for him to focus when you sat so close to him, your bare thighs lightly brushing his legs, dick twitching in need.

And you on the other hand barely listened, gaze stuck to the erected length in his pants, the big imprint causing your thighs to press together in anticipation.

No longer able to hold your desires, you pulled the textbook from his grasp, earning a confused look from the young man. His perplexed expression was to die for as you climbed on top of his lap, hoodie riding up to showcase your panties, leaving little to no mind for the imagination.

You hushed his stuttering with a finger placed on top of his lips, grinning down at him as you sat right onto his hard cock, his whine causing you to hum in amusement.

„I’m no dummy, Choso. I see how you’re eyeing me in class.“ He tried to defend himself, face heating up in embarrassment, only to be silenced by you again, this time by the press of your lip against his, your tongue finding its way into his mouth, caging him into a hot and messy kiss.

He shamelessly moaned into your mouth, hand carefully resting on your hip as you began to move your hips against his, a pleased sigh escaping your lips as the fabric of his pants caught onto your sensitive bud.

You quickly broke the kiss, leaving his lips with a string of salvia still connecting the both of you as you made quick work to his pants, pulling his throbbing cock free. „So big.“

He hissed at the cold air hitting his sensitive tip, hips subconsciously bucking up into your touch as your fingers wrapped around him, sensually stroking his dick as pre cum leaking from his slit.

„Y/N, I‘ve never done t-this“ you hushed him up with a quick peak to his lips, caging your lower lip between your teeth as you slid your panties from your legs, alining his leaking tip to your aching hole.

„Don’t worry pretty boy, “your hips slowly slid down his cock, his head falling back onto your bed as a sinful moan escaped his lips, bracing himself on his elbows to see his cock disappear in your glistening pussy. „I‘ll take good care of you,“ you’re words got cut off by a soft moan from you as you felt his thick cock fill you up. „ make this a first time for you to remember.“

His fingers tangled in the sheets below him, teeth grinding as he desperately tried to hide his moans, failing to do so as your walls clenched around him, sucking him deeper with each grind of your hips.

He won't be able to hold it in any longer, he already felt his impending orgasm threatening to wash over his body, his thighs clenching underneath you. A grin played itself on your lips as you noticed his behavior change, your movements only speeding up, anticipating to watch Choso unravel underneath you. Which he did not long after, your praises filling his ears as his mind exploded at the wave of euphoria overcoming him, his hand flinging to his mouth, muffled whimpers escaping his palm.

Your breathing turned ragged, the rhythm of your hips growing sloppy as you leaned down his level, taking in the sight of his disheveled form. "You're doing so good, Choso. I'm close too." The pathetic whine that flew past his lips made you bite your lip in pleasure, the knot inside of you tightening at the feeling of his meaty length filling your guts, tip repeatedly hitting that particular gushy spot. You threw your head back in euphoria, supporting yourself with your hands on his chest as you felt his length twitch inside of you, warm cum dripping out of your hole.

"W-wait, I can't-" he cut himself off with a loud moan, hands flying to your hips in an attempt to stop you, the overstimulation getting to his head. It was too much, but he couldn't stop you because it felt so good having his long-time crush on riding him into oblivion, feeling his cum trickling down his balls and onto the sheets.

"Just a little more. Don't you want to feel me cum around you?" This made him frantically nod his head, pleading an approval, 'yes' coming from him in between grunts and wails. "Fuck" His sensitive cock twitched inside of you at your words, starry eyes shooting up your face, taking in your face twisted in pleasure, your fingers gripping his shirt as you came, your moans like angelic music to his ears.

You giggled as the both of you caught your breaths, his worn-out length slipping out of you, more of his seed dripping from your cunt. Your fingers sneaked to his face, brushing some of his hair out of his face as you admired his heated cheeks.

"Do you got a girlfriend, Choso?" His eyes widened at your words, a slightly embarrassed expression decorating his face. "N-no." Your eyes lit up at his answer, clapping your hands together in excitement. "So, tell me," you leaned down, breath tickling his nose as your eyes stared through his soul. "do you want to be my boyfriend?"

His perplexed face made you wholeheartedly laugh, expecting orbs to look at him. "I-I would love too but, don't we need to go on a date first?" You grinned down at him at the sound of his weak voice, placing a small peek at his temple.

"This is our first date, no?"

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴶᴶᴷ #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso headcanons #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x female reader #choso fanfic #jujutsu kaisen choso #x reader

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juicycoutureheaux · 1 year ago

Text

Fixer Upper

This is an AU with sheriff!Leon x innocent!farm girl reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

I usually don’t write for Leon, but I felt inspired to write after a work inspired by Lol I felt like the story idea was fitting for his character. This is set in another time, around the 1950s, so there will be some sensitive topics that my personal values DO NOT align with. We can’t change the past but we can change the future, I will put TW but if I miss anything please let me know, I would love to be accommodating. Let me know what y’all think if it’s good enough to be a series or if I should even want to entertain the idea.

This fic was inspired by a new friend who I have been so excited to be able to get to know over a short period of time. thank you for everything @heavennights , you're an amazing human.

Y/N wiped the sweat from her brow as she leaned over the truck’s steaming engine.

It was her daddy’s old Ford truck and she wasn’t even supposed to take it out this long. She cursed herself for not bringing her tool set, but she didn’t anticipate the truck to get overheated so quickly either.

You wanted to cry, you were dreading the tongue-lashing you’d get from your daddy when you got home. Y/N had just turned 18 earlier that month, right before she graduated high school.

You wanted to go to college,learn about space, and how to get there; but mama & daddy said it was a waste of time, they would never let a woman work at NACA; no matter how hard she tried.

Instead, Daddy had pulled in a favor from one of his childhood friends that worked at the police station and got you a job there as a secretary. Daddy prayed that Y/N would settle down with a good man that could take care of you. The farm was going to be passed down to your older brother, Hank.

Hank was already married with a child on the way. His wife, Mary-Anne, was one of your only friends. She was two years older than you but they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

You were deep in thought when you heard tires coming down the dirt road. She turned around and saw the flashing lights coming from the vehicle's top.

When the vehicle came to a stop, you realized you hadn’t recognized the man getting out of the front seat. You couldn’t help but stiffen up at the stranger and felt a cold shiver down your spine despite it being close to 90 degrees outside.

You couldn’t deny the man was handsome; his clear skin was complemented by his stormy blue eyes. His features mirrored the men in the magazines, his hair longer in the front and slicked to the side. His official Springfield County Name tag read “Deputy Kennedy.”

You must have been staring too long because he smirked at you playfully. It made you blush.

“Looks like you have a dilemma here, darlin.” He said, his voice lacking the southern accent most people had in this area.

“Oh…uhm…” you said timidly looking at the broken down truck. You were sure you had never seen this man before despite working for the local police force. She knew the sheriff's position had opened up but didn’t realize they had someone in mind since Chuck DuBois had resigned.

“You’re not in trouble, sweetheart. I’m here to help.” He smiled a toothy smile at you.

You couldn’t help but return it meekly. “I was trying to get home, but my engine overheated,” you said, trying to choke back tears. “I can walk up the road to Parker’s Gas station and call my daddy, I don't want to waste your time.

The man looked at you shocked. “In this heat, sweetheart? You might as well call the coroner now.”

It was a hot day, and your hairline growing damper by the second.

“Let me take you home, I’m sure we can get your daddy out here and we can fix the truck for you.” He opened the passenger door for you and you gladly accepted.

“Deputy Kennedy” cranked the car and the radio blared to life playing “I Walk the Line” by Johnny Cash.

He extended his hand to you. “I realized I didn’t introduce myself; I’m Kennedy, Deputy Leon Kennedy,” he eyed you up and down absentmindedly. “And you are…?”

You blinked. “Oh, I’m, “Y/F/N, Y/L/N.”

Leon looked at you for a minute, before he asked, “That last name, is your father Farmer L/N?”

You shook your head.

Leon smiled at you brightly. “So you’re my new secretary! Damn, this town is really tiny!” He laughed.

You couldn’t help but giggle along with him. What were the chances?

You decided to be brave and get to know your new boss.

“Where are you from?”

“I’m actually from Colorado, but I moved to Georgia about a year ago.”

“That’s really neat.” You said meekly, not quite sure how else to respond.

“I guess, have you ever been?”

You shook your head, “I’ve never been out of the South, but I would like to ride on an airplane one day!” You said excitedly.

His handsome features turned into a genuine smile. “I know you will, Y/N.”

You blushed and they rode together in comfortable silence until his car pulled down the long driveway of the farmhouse.

Y/N’s father and mother were waiting for her outside the farmhouse. You gulped and suddenly felt like a small child.

Leon let out a deep whistle. “Looks like they’ve been waiting for you.”

He exited the car, waved in the direction of her parents, and opened the door for her.

She hesitantly got out and walked up to the house. Y/N’s father was the first to talk.

“Where the hell have you been?” He looked at Leon. “And why the hell are you wasting the deputy’s time to escort you home? Why didn’t you call?” He raised his voice.

You were scared to answer, you were shaking and very upset to get the courage to speak.

“Sir, I insisted that she ride with me. The truck she was driving had broken down and she wanted to call, I felt that it would be more efficient to just take her home.”

Y/N’s father’s glare softened. “If you insisted,” was all the rugged farmer could say.

Your mother grabbed you to take you inside, but you resisted slightly, thanking Leon for his Kindness instead.

He tipped his hat, “No need to thank me, miss.” he said genuinely, “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow morning at the station.”

He walked back to the patrol car and drove away, the dust from the unpaved driveway following him.

Your mother wasted no time in pulling you harder than before, into the farmhouse.

“Y/n!” she scolded. “What were you doing accepting a ride from a man you had never met before? I hope Patrick’s parents don’t hear about it!”

You cringed. You were so taken up with Deputy Kennedy’s kindness, you had completely forgotten that your parents had set you up with someone else.

Patrick was a young, college-educated fellow whose parents were influential in not just your town, but the entire southeast. Your mother was absolutely delighted when his mother, Suzanne approached her in church one Sunday and suggested setting you and Patrick up.

According to Suzanne, you were a charming match for her son, you had no reputation of being “fast” and came from a good god-fearing family.

You had never interacted with Patrick before, despite your brother Hank having gone to school with him. When you asked Hank about Patrick, Hank scoffed. “That guy is known for being a candy-ass, but popular with the ladies. He was always playing backseat bingo with some floozy.”

“Mama and Daddy want to set me up with him.” She confessed to Hank. “Miss Suzanne insisted we meet.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, they’re that desperate to get you off the farm? I knew you were talking about that NACA stuff, but I didn’t think they were listening.” He said bluntly.

“What are you talking about?”

“They don’t want you going to college, Y/N. They want you close to home, that space shit, its just a bunch of bullshit.”

Y/N felt her ears get hot. Sure, she wasn’t the smartest, but she had won the Science Fair three years in a row, all of her projects inspired by NACA. She was interested in how intricate mathematical equations could put men into space.

“It's not bullshit.” She said quietly.

“I know it's not bullshit to you, Y/N; but people around here, they don't know the difference.”

She decided to end the conversation and head up to her room after that.

The next day she was dressed in her Sunday best waiting in the Armstrong family’s Parlor. It would be her first time meeting Patrick. He came strolling in, dressed in preppy casual attire, oblivious of his surroundings.

She rose to meet him. “Oh, darlin’ don’t you get out of that chair, I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.” You blushed at him calling you a pet name so quickly.

“I apologize, I didn’t know what to expect.”

“You’re too polite! I know why my mother had such an interest in you.” He said proudly.

You analyzed his features, his eyes were dark but expressive; his windblown hair had soft curls. You thought he was quite handsome, no wonder Hank had mentioned him being so popular with the girls.

He sat down next to you, smelling of aftershave. You were enamored with him already, none of the boys at school ever paid you any mind. You could have never imagined holding a princely character such as Patrick’s undivided attention.

As you two were starting to engage in casual conversation, an older woman in a maid’s uniform brought in a tray of iced tea & other refreshments.

“Thank you, Lavinia.” Patrick said passively.

Lavinia just bowed silently and hurried out of the room quietly.

You had never been served by anyone before. You were so shocked you couldn’t even focus on the fact that Patrick was eyeing you carefully.

“Sooo, what do you do in your spare time y/n? Surely you don’t spend all your time entertaining farm animals all day.”

That last part of the statement caught you off guard. Is that all he thought of you as? A simple farmer’s daughter?

You laughed awkwardly. The laugh was more for Patrick’s comfort as he was obviously proud of his poor attempt at humor.

“I enjoy reading to the animals,” you said sarcastically. You looked as Patrick’s handsome features contorted into an expression between confusion and genuine concern.

“That was a joke,” you rushed to say. “I enjoy reading, but obviously to myself.”

Patrick’s face relaxed, relief spreading over his features. “Oh, that's neat! What do you like to read?”

“Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles is one of my favorite books.”

Patrick looked at you, the confused look coming back to his face. “That's…interesting.” He said, trying to be polite.

“What do you like to do?” You tried to direct the conversation to himself.

You quickly learned Patrick loved to talk about himself, he couldn’t stop talking about his various “Achievements”.

You listened patiently, thankful that he probably wouldn’t ask you any more questions about yourself; you didn’t want to embarrass yourself further.

After he listed off his various conquests of sailing and horseback riding, he began to scoot closer to you.

“I think this has been a wonderful meeting, mother was right, you are quite beautiful.” He said, brushing stray hair behind your ear.

You blushed, you had never been touched like that.

“Do you think we could meet again next week? I would love to take you out.”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“Wonderful!” He checked his wristwatch. “It looks like it’s getting late, would you like me to take you home?”

You looked at him hesitantly, you were unsure about having another man drive you home.

“Don’t worry,” he said, an almost devious look shone through his eyes, “I don’t bite.”

You reluctantly agreed and soon you were in his 1956 Red Corvette. It was a sporty thing, he insisted riding with the ragtop down. He handed you a pair of sunglasses that were hiding in the glove compartment.

“You’ll need these.” He said as he put his own pair over his eyes.

He looked perfect. How could he be anything less? His life was absolutely charmed. You wondered if he ever felt out of place, of course not.

As the two of you were riding in the car, he moved his hand closer to you, slowly and put it on your knee.

You felt butterflies in your stomach, completely overwhelmed by all the new sensation. Wind blowing your hair violently, the scent of summer and Patrick’s warm large hand on your bare knee.

The ride was over too soon for your liking. You handed the sunglasses back to him.

“Keep ‘em sweetheart. You’ll need them again when I pick you up next time.” He winked at you.

You felt like your knees were going to turn to liquid and you felt like you couldn’t move.

He leaned over and gave you a peck on your cheek and you almost fell over.

You quickly gathered your things.

“T-thank you for your time. It was really nice!” You stuttered out.

“Anytime Sweetheart.”

When you got to the door safely and waved goodbye he started the car and rolled away.

You would be dreaming of this moment for a while.

#resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #alternate universe #fanfiction

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hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend · 3 months ago

Note

Themis!

This uhhhh....this got away from me just a little.....Anyway hope you find the grump and sunshine entertaining!

no warnings. spoilers for endwalker and the pandaemonium raids. word count: 3.1k ao3

“Hm, perhaps he has been delayed longer than anticipated.” Themis mutters, looking up at the sky, “I don’t suppose you were not joking this one time, sending a falling star in case of your absence.” An all together silly notion when he thought about the phrase a bit more and the context in which Azem said such a remark. His “star” tended to be a friend sent in his place, but he can’t imagine that Azem–no, Deimos, Themis was told he could use his real name especially with this matter–would leave Pandaemonium to anyone else, not while he was so close to the subject matter. Themis sighs, shaking his head, “I guess I shall get started without him.” He turns towards the transporter that will take him into the depths of Pandaemonium, two steps and he looks up hearing the sound of cloth snapping upon the wind.

In an instant the world goes dark.

He groans in harmony with two others as he comes to and takes stock of the damage. Nothing feels broken, his head will most likely ache until he can sleep it off, but still he is unable to move with weight on his legs still. He blinks color over taking the features of who used him as a cushion, one a color he knows well, while the other is unfamiliar but he can see the traces of the Speaker, Curious. He blinks once more the colors gone and the smile he had to greet his companion dims as the owner of the mistaken soul looks nothing like Deimos. The creature before him is covered with scales, horns where ears would be, a tail that lazily moves, and still possesses the body and many traits of man. Their hair short and dark blue, brandished with a sword, dressed in a bright pink tabard and brown boots, and eyes that when they open finally are the same exact teal color of one of Deimos’ eyes, A familiar then?. He about doubts himself when he recalls some of the other creatures Deimos found adorable—one of which resides in Pandaemonium still if he recalls—a human-like creature with lizard-like attributes really isn’t that far from the beaten path for him.

“Ugh, I think I broke a tail bone,” they mutter, holding their head.

“No you didn’t,” the other one snaps, “because you decided to use me to break your fall.” The second, a woman, rises, blue eyes with a differing iris pattern to his own narrowed at the familiar, smoothing her long jet black hair and black and white long sleeved dress before slapping away the familiar’s tail with a huff. “Now will you get off of me already!”

The familiar stands, dusting away at their clothes, “And here I thought a hit on your head would make you nicer.” Their green blue eyes finally take notice of Themis still sitting on the ground beneath the woman, with wide eyes and mouth agape taking them in, “You can’t even complain! You used this poor guy as a cushion for your fall.” The woman rolls her eyes, quickly standing and making sure everything is in place, the familiar shaking their head, “And you’re not even going to apologize.”

“Thank you for breaking our fall,” the woman says, eyes studying him in much the same manner he was earlier.

“That’s not-. Never mind.” The familiar turns back to him, holding a hand out, “Forgive her, uhm…”

He takes their hand, thumb running over the hard scales that look like they should scratch him like bark, but feel smooth like brick on the Convocation building. Their smile begins to strain, giving a slight tug on their hand once he’s up enough to stand on his own. Themis shakes his head, letting her hand go, “Apologies, I for a moment thought you were someone else.” He puts a hand to his chest, giving a slight bow, “I am Themis.”

“I see.” The familiar gives a slow nod, “Well, nice to meet you. My name is Siberite, like the stone.”

“And your friend?”

The woman looks him up and down, turning her nose up at him, “Hardly your business but seeing as she would tell you eventually, it’s Liana,” she responds, Siberite giving her a curious look before shrugging.

“Are you a familiar also?”

“Yep,” Siberite chimes in cutting off the woman, “She’s Hythlodaeus’ new familiar!” Themis finds he would have been witness to a murder if looks could kill. He looks Liana over once more, finding no trace of the humble man Siberite claims her to be connected to, only the faint traces of Lahabrea. Did Deimos go to him after all? No, that’s not it, with how open he’s finding Siberite to be there would be no need to lie about that. He also can’t help the feeling that she too is lying about her name, a very curious one. Her gaze flicks to him once more with a cross of her arms and still the lizard-like familiar smiles as if she wasn’t just threatened by her companion, “But I think I know where your earlier confusion came from. Azem made sure their signature was prominent on my aether, in case I ever needed assistance in my travels.”

Themis chuckles, “How very like him to think of such a thing,” Liana rolls her eyes, “and fortunate for me.”

The woman slides her gaze to him, “Fortunate how?”

“I was told by my companion a falling star would appear before me, should he be unable to join me, I did not think it would be so literal.” Liana snorts, “Nor did I expect there to be two of you.”

“You were expecting us?” Siberite asks, crossing her arms when he nods, giving a click of her tongue.

“Ugh, well we weren’t expecting you and we have no time to help you in whatever it is you need assistance with.”

“Gods will you calm down, Sst-Liana. You didn’t even have to come along.” Themis watches as the woman raises her shoulders, and tightens her crossed arms, eyes glancing around them, looking for something, Or maybe someone?. “Was it Azem that told you to expect us? Is he the companion you’re referring to?”

Unusual that Deimos’ own familiar would refer to him by his title rather than name, Themis thinks as he confirms his familiar’s question. “And given that you are his familiar then I believe our purpose here is the same. You are here to investigate Pandaemonium, yes?” The glare “Hythlodaeus’” familiar gives him confirms as much, Just what are you to be so untrustworthy of the world?. “Then before we continue might I inquire how it was that you came to collide with my skull?”

“No.”

“Really? Must you?” Siberite says exasperated, “Themis is just trying to help.”

“No it is alright,” he says, looking at Liana, “I am well aware that we all have secrets we must keep. I shall pry no further.”

Siberite turns to her companion, “Can I at least show him the crystal?”

“Why?”

“Because if he’s investigating too then he may have different insights on what it is and what its deal is.”

“He has one minute,” Liana says, pulling out a memory crystal and slapping it down into his outstretched hand.

He looks down at the unmarked sky blue crystal, a faint voice speaking of danger within Pandaemonium. “Fascinating. While I cannot say much to the details, there are memories stirring within it, that speak of something gravely amiss within Pandaemonium.”

“So exactly what we know already.”

He smiles, handing it back to her, “Tell me, do you know aught about Pandaemonium? What it is and what it is for?”

“Uhhhh, no.” Siberite answers, “But I’m guessing you do?”

He smiles and walks towards the edge of the island, partially turning away from them. “It is a facility that extends beneath Elpis,” he lets only his gaze slide to look at Liana, “and overseen by the Words of Lahabrea.” Liana’s eyes narrow, shoulders raising like a threatened feline, So that’s what you fear. What makes you uneasy being here, he ponders before continuing. “It houses those creations that are highly valuable to research, but are highly dangerous to the star.”

“So it’s expected to be under heavy surveillance and lock and key,” Siberite says, “You think something got out that shouldn’t have been let out?”

“It is possible,” he says, facing them once more, “but several days ago there was an unnatural shift in the flow of its aether detected. Soon thereafter, all communications from Pandaemonium ceased.”

“Oh.” The familiar’s tail falls as she hugs herself, looking down at her feet. “So what’s your role in all this?”

“I am here as a representative of an organization that works directly with the Convocation, and have been tasked with investigating this incident.”

“Aka he’s not here to collect the dead.” Liana says sharply to her companion. He frowns with a furrowing brow, the woman waving away his reaction, “Are you satisfied with the pleasantries, Siberite?” She answers with a small shrug, “Finally. Then let’s get to it.” She begins to walk away, Siberite following almost obediently behind, “You too Themis! Let’s go!”

He takes a deep breath before jogging to catch up. “You wish to investigate this matter with me?”

“I have no choice.” Siberite smiles, laughing softly to herself, You would have asked either way and still told me to come along even if she said no like he would have. “We need access inside and given you are here on a more official basis it saves us from having to break in.”

“I see. You are correct though, it would be no trouble to grant you access as well.” The woman mumbles something he can’t quite catch, “We simply need to get permission from one of the Words of Lahabrea.”

Liana stops suddenly, turning on her heel, “Excuse me? We need to ask for permission still?”

“Well, yes.” Her teeth grind, “It is mostly because I did not anticipate for our group to have a third, and they need to be informed of Azem’s familiar entering the facility.” Themis turns, giving Siberite a smile, “While I have no doubt you’d have access already, it would not do for the warders to mistake you for a resident of Pandaemonium.”

“Yeah, I would much rather not end up in a cage.”

“Lead the way then, Themis.”

Ignoring the venom she drips from his name, the man takes them to a Word of Lahabrea, who’s eyes go wide a moment upon seeing Siberite. When she’s standing in front of him, surprise turns to understanding, “An interesting aetheric signature with that one, but not surprising in the least.” He turns to Themis, “Was the transporter not granting you access?”

He shakes his head, gesturing to Liana, “I need you to add a record of her aether as she is joining me in my investigation.”

“Along with Azem’s familiar?”

“This one I happened to stumble upon on my way here. She’s been sent to check on his creation and pick up some research.”

The Word shakes his head with a sigh, “You think he would have stopped taking an interest in his old work by now, and not feel the need to visit his contribution to the pet summoning community. But I shall add your companion’s aether to the records.”

“Excellent. You have my thanks.”

The Word leaves for just a moment, returning with a nod. “Her aether has been recorded. Might I ask why her aether is a little on the thin side?”

“She’s a familiar, created by the Chief of the Bureau of Architecture.” Themis refrains from smiling when he catches her fists clench.

“I see. They’re being very extensive in whatever it is you’re doing it would seem. So if you discover aught that merits a report, please do so with the utmost haste. Master Lahabrea shall guide us on the proper course of action from there.”

Themis frowns, matching the narrowed gaze of Liana, “So I take it that you have detected nothing amiss as of late?”

“The warders have reported nothing that would cause alarm. Minor fluctuations in aether have been observed, but surely Master Lahabrea would have acted if they were anything to worry about.”

“So Lahabrea is kept well informed of the goings on here then,” Liana says with a hum, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, mumbling, “Interesting.”

The Word looks over at her, “I hope I am not overstepping my boundaries by asking but….you seem to be quite familiar with Master Lahabrea. Do you know him?”

Liana looks away, Siberite frowning when she looks over at her. The familiar quickly perks up, “She’s met him briefly, but I’ve told her of the many stories I have of him.”

“You mean the ones Azem has of the man.” The Word corrects.

She gives the man a glare, popping her hip with crossed arms, and tail flicking back and forth, “No, that isn’t what I meant at all. I have met the man multiple times, thank you very much.” Themis looks between the two of them wide eyed, his tongue burning with more questions that he cannot ask, lest he give up more of his identity to them. “For someone that seems to have once worked with Azem you know very little about what kind of person he is. He does not wish for me to be at his side at all times, because that would make me near useless to him. He is someone that values a variety of thought processes, mine included.”

The Word flinches at her tone, “My apologies. Master Lahabrea is not known for being generous with his time– that one would have ‘stories’ of his company almost beggars belief.”

Siberite huffs, looking away from the Word defiantly, Themis clearing his throat, “And with that I believe it is time for us to be on our way to get started with our duties.” He gives a nod to the Word, “I thank you for your time and, uh, patience.”

“Finally,” Liana breathes out, making her way back towards the transporter that will bring them to Pandaemonium. Siberite rushes to be in pace with her, the two having a hushed conversation, Themis picking up on small pieces of it as he follows at a slower and steadier pace. From what he’s able to put together, Deimos’ familiar is questioning just why her companion would lie about her name and why she seemed much too uncomfortable being here, when it was she that insisted on joining her. To little surprise Liana responds in short answers that offer no insight, other than she has very strong feelings towards Lahabrea that balance on a wire, and her hostility towards this familiar was once waned but is growing once again. One name stands out within their conversation, Emet-Selch.

While Themis finds it no surprise that Siberite should know the man on a more personal level, it makes him curious as to how Liana knows him, and why her feelings on the man show more than just disdain for his fractious personality. If he was comparing her feelings on Emet-Selch and Lahabrea he would hazard a guess that while she’s angrier towards the latter the roots of such strong emotion are the same.

Eventually Siberite throws her hands up and slows to match his pace, “Is it really such a shock to have met him? Or well someone like me to have? Or was it just that guy being condescending?” She sighs, shaking her head to begin musing once more, “I mean it makes sense why he would speak that way to me, people here don’t really see familiars as worth something I’ve found. Granted he’s also not the first person to speak to me like that, which-. I don’t know, it irks me that just because I’m so small or look so delicate or something else entirely people love to assume that I have nothing of value to offer. Or that I’m not able to understand something complex, but I do try to. I just can’t always help my mind wandering when it makes connections to other things.” She looks up at him when he stays silent, “Oh, um, sorry. Ignore all that.” She laughs, running a hand through her hair, “I’ve been told I need to work on how much I talk. Just can’t help it, you feel pretty easy to talk to, you know that?”

He smiles recalling when he witnessed the occasional conversation between Deimos and Emet-Selch where the older man would have to physically quiet him so the two could pick out just what it was that Deimos was needing answers to. Observations that proved helpful as Themis became more settled in his role and would hold longer conversations with the man, and a reason he was picked for this assignment. “You would not be the first person to say such a thing.” She beams, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts once again, “As for your question, it is true what he said that Lahabrea is not known to be generous with his time. Even I had to contain my surprise to hear you both had met the man in the flesh. Makes you both more interesting by the moment.”

“And yet you don’t ask too many questions. Some,” her eyes look quickly at her companion, “would say that you’re naive for just taking us at our word.”

“I have many questions, but I shall refrain from asking them. Secrets will make this journey all the more intriguing, wouldn’t you agree?”

She smirks, giving him a nudge, “And here I thought you’d get more boring learning more about who you are. Puzzles and intrigue it is then, Themis!”

With that declaration the three of them make it to the transporter. Siberite is the first to descend into the facility, Liana gesturing for him to follow next. “Before we go in,” he starts, Liana rolling her eyes, “tell me, what is your connection to this place. I know your companion’s connection, her creator once worked under Lahabrea. Yours is unknown and I must make sure it will not interfere with our investigation.”

The woman gives a saccharine smile as she walks past him into the teleporter, pausing just long enough to whisper, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Elidibus.” She leaves into the depths of Pandaemonium before he can muster any response. While there’s some worry as to just how she knows his true identity, he doesn’t believe she would let such knowledge free given how long she kept it to herself. No, he pushed something, threatened her, and she simply responded in kind. He smiles to himself, stepping into the transporter, Who knew that confronting the dread beast that is Pandaemonium would entail such intrigue. What other sights will you show us….

#figured this was a bit long for tumblr so if one prefers ao3 its on there too!#but yeah I had quite a bit of fun with this and I hope you all enjoy it also!#endwalker spoilers #siberite akagane oc #stasia oc #brotp: not totally enemies but not totally friends

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glazelilysoup · 2 years ago

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how you met alhaitham

content: reader is gn, alhaitham is blunt, implied as a spantamad researcher, reader is sleepy, i don't think the house of daena has an upper floor but a girl can pretend, might be ooc, i don't think there are any legitimate warnings, its just fluffy

info: this was supposed to be headcanons with multiple characters, but i got really into it and wrote too much. might do similar concepts with other characters (as originally planned) in the future. i wrote this over the course of 3 days and it was usually at midnight, so it's not the greatest. gets progressively worse the more you read.

word count: 1.4k

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times like these were enjoyed immensely by both you and the scribe. it often became the most anticipated part of your days. it began with the fact that alhaitham had wanted more space than usual, and as a result, had gone to the largely unoccupied upper floor. there were fewer shelves on these higher floors, largely used for works of fiction. it wasn't often researchers indulged in anything but facts, so the area became frequented by those looking for solitude.

he took note of how every large table had multiple people sitting there- after all, a crowded library will still be crowded even in the most secluded spots- so he walked clear to the other side of the astoundingly huge library. it was a mirror of the other side, the same amount of tables in the same spots. just like before, every table had two or more people at them. he internally scowled before he viewed you in his peripherals. you were at a smaller table, alone, hidden away by a bookshelf.

you looked like you wanted to be alone, with your nose buried so deep in that book of yours- information on irminsul, he noticed. he surmised that wanting to be alone in the company of someone who had the same goal would be preferable to sitting next to someone as annoying as kaveh. he saw the small glance you took at his hand once it rested on the back of the chair, quickly going back to focus on your studying.

"may i sit here?" it was strange to hear the scribe be so quiet, but it was a library after all. you gave a terse nod, one that would have easily been missed had he not been the ever-perceptive scribe.

as time went slowly by, the scribe realised he may not have been as perceptive as he thought. every 50 pages or so, at a good stopping point, he would observe you for a few moments. you looked like you would pass out at any moment. a while later, you had adjusted your posture to have the book flat against the table and your head lingering just above it. not long after, your head was resting on your elbows, arms crossed, with hushed, relaxed breathing the only sound from you. no longer did you turn the pages.

alhaitham pondered his options for a moment. he could wake you up to spare you the embarrassment of being asleep for so long. on the other hand, you had looked very tired. he could let you sleep. he couldn't empathise with your current situation, so he settled to leave you be until either you woke up of your own accord, or until he left.

in all honesty, he was somewhat shocked to find that you were still asleep when he decided to leave. it had been hours, and there were exponentially fewer people than there were when he had arrived. "hey," he frowned when you had not even so much as stirred. he didn't want to be rude, but he resorted to his method of waking up kaveh. he slammed a book down on the table. it instantly proved fruitful as you jumped immediately, squeaking out a small "sorry!" he guessed that this was a more common occurrence than just this time.

"i apologise for the rude awakening. i had tried to wake you up other ways, and they hadn't worked." he found your shy expression and the pink that dusted your cheeks at this revelation to be quite endearing.

"oh lord- it's alright, i shouldn't have fallen asleep. uhm, would you mind telling me what time it is?"

"i believe it's slightly past eight o'clock." that's no good, that's no good at all, you promised your roommate you would make dinner tonight. you scrambled to collect your things, choosing not to notice how he watched you panic.

"thank you for waking me up, but i really must be going now," you didn't make it very far before he stopped you.

"hold on a second. you're still tired, i can see it in the way you move. i don't think it would be wise for you to walk alone in your current state. would you let me see you home safely?" it was truly appalling, the sheer amount of bluntness his words held. your pride told you to refuse because you were fine. but common sense was screaming at you to say yes. tiredness tugged at your eyes, blurring your vision and pulling your eyelids down.

again giving a small nod, but he was perceptive enough to pick up on it. as you exited the library, he asked you something, "i don't think i caught your name," oh, right. with how infamous the scribe was, you had already known him, yet he had no clue who you were.

"oh! it's y/n," he mouthed the word a few times, practising how it rolled off his tongue.

"y/n... i quite like that name," you saw the smallest hint of a smile and could've sworn you were hallucinating.

the next time alhaitham went to the library, he didn't bother with his usual assessment of how busy the library was. instead, he headed directly upstairs to your usual spot. one he got to the table, he didn't bother asking to sit, either. he knew you would let him. it had gone largely the same as last time, you fell asleep after an hour or two, and he had woken you up when he left. he walked you home just as he had before, as well.

those walks were always comforting, and though the sun was setting by the time the two of you left, his presence filled you with warmth.

this routine was repeated most days, and you two became quite good friends, often making thoughtful conversation should you see each other. provided you have free time, of course. unfortunately, alhaitham has been running low on just that recently. his position as the scribe became rather demanding, but you weren't too worried. he always made enough time to reach the library to wake you up, and sometimes he got there early enough to read. he wasn't the kind to keep to a routine, but this particular one gave him a semblance of normalcy that he quite liked.

one day, when he arrived at the house of daena, you were nowhere to be found. he felt a sort of... melancholy wash over him. when you had found him the next day and informed him that you simply hadn't the time to go to the library that day, he was glad that it was just a miscalculation, and that it wasn't any fault of his own. in his subconscious, he felt a pang of guilt for not being there lately. he vowed to arrive a bit earlier from now on.

the next day, alhaitham arrived at the time usually he did before he became incredibly busy. he had sat in the seat directly next to you, instead of across the table like usual. you raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it further. "y/n, would you humour me for a moment?"

humour? that was the last word you expected to come from the scribe's lips at this moment. "i guess it depends on what humouring you entails."

"go on a date with me," you nearly choked on your saliva, he didn't hesitate at all, "i just so happen to find your presence more enjoyable than most. is that such a bad thing?"

"not at all! it was just- unexpected," it took a moment to regain your composure, "i'd love to go on a date with you, 'haitham." he raised a brow at the nickname.

"i'll be here same time tomorrow to get you," and then he brought out his book and started reading as if nothing had just happened. once again, his blunt nature served only to shock and confuse you. after a while, sleep caught up to you, as usual. only this time, you had fallen asleep sitting up. strange, alhaitham thought, you always rested your head on the table when falling asleep. he figured you would adjust to lying on the table soon enough. he soon felt something hit his shoulder. as he looked over, he saw your head on his shoulder.

and although his face showed no change in expression he couldn't help but feel his ears get warmer, and for a split second, he could've sworn his heart ached.

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#glazelilysoup #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham fluff #al haitam x reader

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fghniki · 9 months ago

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Bake Cakes Kick Ass

“Étoiles, do you want a slice?” she decided to ask. Étoiles turned to look at her and looked at the cake with barely hidden surprise. “Uhm. Nah, thanks,” he gave her a crooked smile before turning away again. Niki considered burrowing her head in the sand and screaming. (Phil, Niki and Étoiles love both kicking ass and eating cakes. Well, maybe not all of them.) (Also available on Ao3.) (Originally made for @etoiles-week, day 3: food. Based on a Twitter exchange.) (This is an AU where q!Étoiles happens to share a certain trait with cc!Étoiles.)

Niki had never thought dungeons could be so fun.

She wasn’t exactly the best fighter — most of the mob kills ended up going to Phil and Étoiles — but even in a supporting role she felt like she fit right in, the way she never thought she would be able to. Not to mention, she got to hang around the eggs! (Even if she felt a little bit embarrassed about them being better fighters than herself.)

Regardless. They swept through the dungeon in what, according to excited Pomme, was record time — and now they had time to rest and sort the loot. Niki glanced at the crafting table in the corner of the room. She wondered…

Backpacks were really the best — she no longer had to worry about not having the ingredients she might need, ever. Chayanne was more than happy to help her, supplying her with some milk and raspberries, — and only a few minutes later her beautiful berry cake was ready and done.

“Hey guys!” she smiled as she turned to face Étoiles and Phil (who were busy arguing about something with Tallulah), “Snack time!”

Phil’s face lit up the moment he saw the cake, “Aw man, Niki! How the fuck do you always manage to have the best pastries?”

Phil took the cake out of Niki’s hands and got to slicing it. Niki turned to look at Étoiles… who only glanced at the thing before turning to talk to Pomme. Niki frowned and opened her mouth to invite the two to join in, but was interrupted by Étoiles: “Alright, guys, thank you so much, but Pomme and I gotta go.”

“No problem, mate,” Philza replied, his mouth already stuffed. Niki meekly echoed the sentiment and watched the French warp away, feeling only so slightly disappointed.

The Purgatory desert was finally settling down after the fight, and it was finally possible to see further than a meter from you. Niki couldn’t be more grateful for that — going through sand with a giant cake in your arms was much easier when you could see where you stepped.

The Greens were in much better spirits than she anticipated, joking around and babbling about something she couldn’t quite understand. She shouted a “hey there” just before approaching them: “Hey guys.” she smiled from above the cake, “Not sure how welcome it is, but, um– I just wanted to give you something. Kind of like a consolation prize.”

“Oh my God,” Bagi exhaled. “Holy shit.”

The Greens gathered around her, marveling at the cake. Niki allowed herself to bask in attention for a bit before glancing at Étoiles — the person she really wanted to surprise with it.

Much to her dismay, he didn’t look too excited, keeping himself busy checking something in his inventory even as everyone else started taking slices. “Étoiles, do you want a slice?” she decided to ask.

Étoiles turned to look at her and looked at the cake with barely hidden surprise. “Uhm. Nah, thanks,” he gave her a crooked smile before turning away again.

Niki considered burrowing her head in the sand and screaming.

Okay.

She knew what he liked (fish, avocado, avocado toast, chia seeds). She knew (now) that he wasn’t really into the sweet stuff. That was fine — not every pastry had to be tooth-rotting. She could make apple pies. She could make potato pies. She was the genius baker, and she could find something that Étoiles would love sooner or later.

She felt sweat gathering at the back of her neck as she watched her friends gather round Sunny’s birthday table and grab stuff from the plates she and Chayanne had prepared for the occasion. She watched Étoiles completely ignore everything.

“Okay, I am going insane,” she declared and got up from her seat. Chayanne stopped chewing as he watched her walk up to Étoiles and tap him on the shoulder. He turned around. “I can’t live like this anymore.”

“Same, man,” Étoiles replied before blinking and adding, “Wait, what?”

“Do you hate me?”

Étoiles blinked again, “No? Why? Do you think I’m a hateful person?”

“You have literally not eaten anything made by me. Not once.”

Étoiles blinked for the third time and looked behind Niki’s back at the table. He then looked back at her. “These are all high GI.”

It was Niki’s turn to blink. “What?”

“Glycemic index,” Étoiles explained, “Niki, I have diabetes.”

…oh.

Oh.

Niki suddenly felt very, very stupid. “Oh my God–”

“Do you think I should white rice? Should I eat potato chips?” Étoiles suddenly had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Do you want me to eat poison and die? Is it because you hate me?”

“No, I—” Niki felt laughter bottle up in her throat and she covered her mouth with her hand, “I’m–”

“What are you, Poison-chu? You want me to poison myself?”

“Shut up—”

“Oh, it’s because you hate me—”

Niki finally cracked up, and started laughing, and found her laugh mixed with Étoiles’.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mcyt #qsmp #etoiles #niki nihachu #etoilesweek #writing #fgh writing

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lloydfrontera · 11 months ago

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may i please ask what are all of lloyd's titles and their functions? the ones in wiki are based on the manhwa and all of them are basically joke titles and descriptions 🙏

oh this is a hard one, okay let me see if i can remember (and find) all of them-

uhm, turned out this got longer than i anticipated so. for the sake of not cluttering everyone's dash everything's gonna be under a read more

Ch. 101 [Exemplifying Punisher] [Title Level: Fiefdom rumor] The hooligan is out for trouble again! He endured everyone’s mockery. In doubt and suspicion, he fought while drenched in sweat. Against the sword of the traitor, he stood with bravery. No retreat. He remained canny. At last, he punished the big snitch. The root of injustice he plucked, willful and witty. Lloyd Frontera, the hooligan, the eldest son of the barony. [Compliment Effect: You hold great influence on those below you. Those who work for you pay more attention to your words. Cases of disobedience and insubordination will be reduced significantly.] [Title Region: Frontera barony.] [Active Period of Title: 7 years] [Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 1]

Ch. 101 [Builder of Dead Estates]

Ch. 101 [Honored Warrior of the Barbaric Tribe]

Ch. 101 [Guardian of Cremo] [Title Level: Regional talk] Carpeted the night sky, the monster’s gaze. Stood a man’s powerful will. The city’s blaze died at his yell. The monster’s heart dropped as his feet fell. Night of disaster may not quell. But the morning ray shall fall. Come. Oh, the monster of the deep sea. Come. Oh, to the dawn of protection. [Compliment Effect: When you fight an opponent ten times or heavier than you, “Iron Stance” is invoked. The damage you deal against the opponent will double. The damage you receive from the opponent will be halved.] [Title Region: Entire Cremona region, including City of Cremo.] [Active Period of Title: 120 years] [Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 6]

Ch. 101 [Magentano Carry] [Title Level: The unofficial history of the kingdom] Faster than anyone else, you have arrived. The poison hungry for my heart, you have plucked. Without reservation, you have left your mark on my heart. You have gasped for air in place of my breath. Your eyes trembled in place of mine. You have even tried to sacrifice your life to save mine. At last, your back carried my body, and you protected me with an indomitable spirit. My dear brave Frontera. How can I ignore you? How can I forget you? My soul is indebted to you for as long as your breath lasts and heart beats. [Compliment Effect: As the lifesaver of Queen Magentano, you have her absolute trust. Your opinion and advice will be positively received. Moreover, for as long as her reign continues, you will never be suspected of treason or rebellion.] [Title Region: Magentano Kingdom] [Active Period of Title: Queen Magentano's reign]

Ch. 109 [Bell Saver] [Title Level: Regional talk] Murky clouds covered the eastern sky. Carrying an apocalypse, they flew. Livestock perished, houses crushed. Humans weeped, swords snapped. When death neared everyone. When two fiefdoms despaired as one. A bell tolled aloud in unison. Bong. The livestock was saved. Bong. The people woke up. Bong. Hope was alive. That's why we shall chant out for our savior. [Compliment Effect: The Frontera barony and Lacona viscounty, who have undergone the attack of the plague of locusts, will consider you as their lifesaver throughout your lifetime. Moreover, every form of insect monster instinctively will fear you and get discouraged when they see you.] [Title Region: Frontera barony and Lacona viscounty.] [Active Period of Title: 110 Years.] [Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 3]

Ch. 119 [The Eldest Son of the Frontera Family.] [Title Level: Regional talk] There are times when you incur a loan or take on debt. But you see... When misfortune sweeps over your life, when crippling debt burdens your shoulders, you and many others will despair. You and many others will berate destiny and bad luck. That isn't bad. Perhaps, it's only natural. Anyone would react that way. That is why he is so great. No one had trusted him. Everyone considered him to be impossible. And yet, he didn't despair and gave up easily. So, my son, when the weight of life seems to crush you down, look toward his accomplishment. For potential is always present in everyone. [Compliment Effect: You have attained the highest financial credit ranking in the Cremona region. You can now acquire an investment in the most advantageous conditions and with the lowest interest rate available at any time. Moreover, no one will pressure you for an investment or any form of a loan.] [Active Period of Title: Lifetime] [Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 2]

Ch. 139 [The Leader for the Weary] Title Level: Fiefdom history I lost my home. I ran out of food. I didn't even have fire to warm me. I roamed without aim. Aha, this is how it ends for me. My tears and sighs were endless. I crawled, comforting my starving child. I wandered for a place to die. There was no paradise in sight. Not even somewhere to lie down. I gave up and dispaired. Then, I met him. That was when I finally realized. Someone held out his hand to me. To me, who had given up on myself. I realized that there was one person left to save me. Compliment Effect: The refugees settled in Frontera county sincerely revere and look up to you. They wull work the land in their utmost capacity to pay off their debts. For the next 30 years, the terrace fields will have 300% more chances of a bumber crop. The crop will be raised by 200% on default. Title Region: Frontera County Active Period of Title: 30 years Monthly CP earned from the Title: 3

Ch. 160 Do you want the red or blue pill? Title Level: Kingdom History A long, long time ago. In a remote fiefdom in the east, there lived a petty young master. This young master, owning such a foul and warped character, stuck his nose in everyone's business, even regarding their bathroom habits. People thus then asked, young master, my dear young master, why must we collect our poop and throw it here? The young master enthusiastically waved his hands and said, it's smelly, so you might as well hurry. They tilted their heads. But a few years later, they realized. They realized their villages, fiefdoms and fields no longer held traces of any infectious disease. From the moment the news spred, people from all over the kingdom, most of the residents in the fiefdom no longer disposed of their wastes anywhere they could. Compliment Effect: The chances of an infectious disease plaguing the fiefdom are zero for the time being. Moreover, any infectious disease that starts outside the fiefdom will be stopped and eradicated with 100% certainty. Title Region: Frontera county. Active Period of Title: 50 Years. Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 6

Ch. 177 Hell's Singer Title Level: Reguinal Epic Tale & Scary Story The Namaran's Wall stood tall and high. People fell, crying out loud. Everyone searched for redemption when the silver-haired knight got to his feet. Combat he did against Hell's Knight. But he was outpowered. The power of hell was overcome, only to return. The silver haired knight pleaded before the mysterious power. Who shall stand shoulder to shoulder and fight with me? Who shall, with valor, come forward for everyone? I only seek one. Then someone called out. I want peace! Mahavanya Suri Suri Sabaha! Like a leech, the man clutched the Hell's Knight's leg. The thunderous voice plunged the Knight into doom. Stop it! Do not Sing! No more noise, please! Those were the last words of Hell's Knight. Compliment Effect: You have become a celebrity among all existence, including the undead. You are now notorious for oening a devilish musical sense in this earth and hell. For this, every creature in this earth and hell will fear, or at times respect, your singing. Title Region: Namaran County & Hell. Active Period of Title: 80 years (Namaran County)/30,000 years (Hell) Monthly CP earned from the Title: 4

Ch. 197 Top Gun from the West Title Level: Regional Hero Tale There's no water. We're thirsty. Sultan abandoned us. Even the administrator fled away. No help came our way. That seemed to be it. That seemed to be it without change. All may perish, but nothing will change. Everyone gave up. That was the reason. When a young master from a neighboring country woke us up. When he gave us water stressing it was coming from him. What a strange man he is, we thought. What a creepy man he is, we thought. We never knew then. That this young master will never give up on us. That he would toil covered in sad all day when the sultan and administrator abandoned us. So what happened now? Allow me to ask you a question first. My dear customer, would you like some tea? Compliment effect: You have become the livesaver and hero of the entire region by solving the chronic drought that plagued the Kandahar desert. Your tale will spread to all corners of the desert. The shamans of desert tribes in the world bless your name with gratitude and respect. Thanks to it, you will not experience dehydration in any situation in the regions of the complement influence. Title Region: All desert regions. All areas whose annual average climate is 104 Fº and above. Active Period of Title: 300 years. Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 4

Ch. 241 Frozen Hands, Frozen Feet The lava giant is scary. The lava giant is hot. The lava giant is violent. So shh. You can never anger the giant. That is what we believed in. The King of Hell is busy. Hell's Knights hate doing rough work. We never dared to call them, so we just got beaten up. We thought staying low was the answer in life. But it wasn't. There was always a way. Lloyd Frontera, that human. I never expected that humn to start this. Wonder what it is? Let's close the door first if you want to hear it. The cold wind is blowing... A-achoo! Compliment Effect: You have played a critical role in destroying the most dangerous and violent creature in Hell, the lava giant. Thousands of demons clearly saw your feat and this heroic tale will spread across Hell. Thanks to that, you will be feared and respected by the demons equal to Hell's Knight. Moreover, you will not suffer from hypothermia in cold climates and will not freeze to death. Title Region: All Hell regions. All areas whose annual average climate is 32 Fº and below. Active Period of Title: 120 years (Human world)/100,000 years (Hell) Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 6

Ch. 271 Upper abdomen! Upper abdomen! Upper abdomen! Title Level: Maritime legend. (I'm skipping this one. It's not worth typing out all of it) Compliment Effect: You have resolved the Kraken's indigestion in one try. The Kraken and thousands of members of the Mermaid Corps clearly witnessed this. For this, your heroic feat will spread throughout all the seas in the world, and getting hit in the upper abdomen will become the go-to-method among marine creatures to treat indigestion. Moreover, you have acquired <Underwater Breathing> and <Upper Abdomen Jab>. The former skills allows you to freely breathe underwater, and the latter skill enables you to empty anyone's stomach in the water with just one jab. Title Region: Any terrain that has a water level of above 20 inches, which includes seas, rivers, lakes and bathtubs. Active Perdio of Title: 3,000 years. Monthly CP earned from the title: 5

Ch. 295 Don't Look Down on a Human Ever Again Title Level: Regional Folktale Trot. Trot. There once was a man. He ran in the morning. In the afternoon. In the evening. With his only two legs, he waddled and created a distasteful sight. And he was slow, so slow that even a foal would yawn. But he was faster than four legged creatures. He ran across the vast plain and reached the territory of the humans. He proved that the one who arrives at the finish line first is faster than the one who runs fast. So, what do you have to do if you wish to run like him? How about you start running southward? Just 372 miles. Compliment effect: With your marvelous show of tenacity and endurance, you have opened a new era of long-distance running to the centaurs. The centaur champion and many others who watched the race genuinely accepted your long-distance running method. Owing to it, your reputation will spread to every corner of the vast plain, and the new running method - running a long distance while saving energy - will be a trend among the young centaurs. Moreover, you have acquired a new passive effect <Fuel Efficiency> that reduces the energy consumption by half in situations where your heartbeat goes over 140 every minute. Title Region: The Great Plain of Klamath. Any plain ground with a land mass of over 1,000m² Active Period of Title: 160 years. Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 2

Ch. 359 Hell's Top Talent Title Level: Hero's Legacy Okay, it’s time to study the railway of the past. Open your History of Modern Civil Engineering Book to page 359. Yes. That’s the famous Pantara Railway, which I’m sure every one of you knows. Student in the front row. Could you briefly walk us through how this railroad came to be? Excellent. That’s correct. The Pantara Railway, just like what the student said, is a masterpiece built by Lloyd Frontera, who received an order from the Magentano House. Hahaha. Are you all bored? It’s Lloyd Frontera again. Look at this section, and you’ll find Lloyd Frontera. Move on to the next part and you still find him. I, too, am sick of him. Had it not been for him, we would only have one eight of what we will study this summer. But what else can we do? That son of a gun set the groundwork for the civil engineering of our empire. So, it would be unfair if we were the only ones to suffer, no? Let’s hit the book. Come now. Let’s study harder, create new theories and make it harder for the students who’ll come after you all. All right, so the Pantara Railroad introduced the switchback system for the first time in the world… Compliment Effect: You used every means possible to finish the railroad in the Pantara Range. In this process, you tricked countless people who shuddered in shock and repulsion. The demons watching over you could not give you enough praise. As a result, countless residents of Hell and the undead have come to respect and admire you even more strongly. Precaution: The affections of the demons may come at the expense of Hell's King overwhelming desire to recruit you. Title Region: All the Regions of the Human World and Hell Active Period of Title: 1200 years (Human World)/750,000 years (Hell) Monthly CP Earned from the Title: 8

ok so. those are all i could remember off the top of my head and find today. i am almost certain i missed one but i can't for the life of me remember what arc it's in. still! hope this helps!

#hey i got an ask #Anonymous #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #tged spoilers #this was. so much work.#we haven't transcribed more than a couple of these yet so most i had to type out manually 〒▽〒#if i may indulge my nosy nature can i ask why you wanted to know nonnie?? is it for something in specific or just. curiosity???#reference

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year ago

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Chapter Three coming 8/15 @ 6pm EST

—— preview below the cut…

The window beside you rolled down next, his head leaning over the center console so he could ask, “Need help? Backseat is looking a little full there.”

“We’re gonna pretend I didn’t just see you having your own private concert?”

“How do you know?” You walked up beside him, unlocking the trunk to reveal the endless bags hidden within.

“Eddie, that’s crazy.”

“Definitely creepy,” you echoed, a little impressed he’d done all of that as you entered the home and Chrissy came stumbling out, now no longer with Melody in hand. “She finally went down?”

“Yes, thank goodness.” She approached Eddie, taking a couple of bags to lighten the weight loaded in his arms. “Just put everything on the island, I’ll take care of putting it all away.”

“Here,” he said thickly, lifting the box of diapers in one arm and the bag in the other, “I’ll help you bring them downstairs.”

“Uhm…where are you sleeping?” he asked out loud, taking in the space. “I mean, I’ve been here before. I know Robin has the bedroom, but where is your stuff?”

“I’m on the pullout couch,” you explained, walking him over, snatching a laundry basket on the way.

Waving an arm out to him, he handed over the bag of clothing and dropped down onto the couch beside you, the diapers already laid out on the kitchen table.

“You’re not serious.” He eyed you as you pulled outfit after outfit from the bag.

“I sleep right here,” you said, nonplussed.

“You can’t,” he stated plainly, voice rising.

“I mean…I can,” you retorted, tossing baby socks into the basket to be cleaned, “and I do.”

“Move in with me.”

Now you were convinced he’d absolutely lost it. The man who you procreated with was losing his mind, because there was no way in hell you’d heard him correctly.

“I can’t move in with you, I don’t even know you.”

“Just…think about it?” he asked softly, “please?”

——

tag list 💌: @aurora-austen @lottie-90 @rustboxstarr @daisyridleyyyy @eggo-segual @corrodedseraphine @kjcmama @trixyvixx @lezzy-bennet @aysheashea @siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @ali-r3n @ilovetaquitosmmmm @vintagehellfire @hideoutside @pbs-theundeadmaggot @smells-like-teenwolf

#daylight!eddie #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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returnsandreturns · 2 years ago

Note

Okay this might be the most filthy thing I’ve ever put into words, let alone sent to someone but your request has filled my mind with possibilities.

The one that’s causing the most brainrot is Matt being a subby top with a praise kink and power bottom foggy and something something edging via cockwarming, etc.

i love this because it's relatively safe and the one below it is the wildest shit i've seen in recent memory. but yes, let's do it.

"How long are you planning on doing this?" Matt asks, whimpering a little when Foggy shifts his weight on top of him. It's been five minutes and he already sounds kind of desperate which is perfect.

"I brought my laptop," Foggy says, happily.

"You're kidding," Matt says.

The noise he makes when Foggy lifts up enough to grab his laptop from the nightstand and sinks back down slowly is gorgeous. Their relationship has had an edge at points but figuring out this dynamic has smoothed some of it out. Matt loves being inside of him and he loves Foggy messing with him, ordering him around, making him behave.

Punishing him.

"I've got a lot to work on," he says, carefully opening it and sitting it on Matt's chest, "and you have to do your job."

"What's that?" Matt asks, and Foggy angles the laptop down so he can see Matt's mouth open and panting, like he's anticipating what Foggy's going to say.

"Being a good boy for me," Foggy says, warmly, running fingers through Matt's hair and pulling at it gently. Matt bucks his hips up and Foggy breathes out an, "Uh uh," and, firmer, "Every time you try to get yourself off, I add ten more minutes. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Matt says, nodding, blushing faintly before he adds, "and, uhm. . .thank you. For this."

"You're very welcome," Foggy says, maneuvering enough to kiss Matt's forehead before sitting down again, clenching intentionally just to hear Matt moan. "Now, hush. I'll let you know when I need you."

---

". . .are you watching a movie?" Matt asks.

"Short film," Foggy says. "Did I say you could talk?"

He presses fingers to Matt's mouth, resting against a pouting lip until Matt opens his mouth and licks around them, sucking on them.

"Good boy," Foggy murmurs. "I was going to add another hour for talking without permission but I'll just do thirty minutes."

The noise that Matt makes around his fingers is agonized.

This is going really well.

---

Foggy starts to move his hips before he finally shuts the laptop and sits it to the side, about to tell Matt that he can move, too, before Matt babbles, "Fuck, fuck, Foggy, I'm gonna come."

Foggy pins Matt's arms down when he reaches up like he's going to grab his hips, riding him hard until Matt's barely coherent, just enough to tell Foggy that he's had enough.

"I think that's a record," Foggy says, kissing his face all over, slow and intently. "You normally last a little longer than that."

"It's been six hours," Matt says, frowning.

"It's been barely two," Foggy says, laughing. "And I moved for, like, thirty seconds. I got you wound up, huh?"

"Yeah, a little," Matt says, frown immediately changing into an adorably loopy smile, reaching up to touch Foggy's hair and making a pleased humming noise when Foggy leans down to kiss him on the mouth. "Do you want me to get you off now? While I'm still inside you?"

"I don't know, you're already getting hard again," Foggy says, stretching out his arms and yawning. "Maybe I'll just take a nap and see how I feel after."

"Like this?" Matt asks.

"Sure," Foggy says, moving so his entire weight is on Matt, pressing him into the bed. "Just a cat nap. Hour, tops. How does that sound?"

"Like torture," Matt says. "Also. . .please do it."

"Good boy," Foggy murmurs, kissing his neck.

#this is in the genre of people using matt as a surface #mattfoggy #my fic #pwp

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amalia-uwu · 1 year ago

Text

INFIRMUM

Based on fanfiction Firsts & Seconds written by Skerbbie @skerbbie

I DON'T OWN UNDERTALE, HORRORTALE, FARMTALE OR THE FIC FIRST AND SECONDS WRITTEN BY SKERBBIE @skerbbie The rights go to the respective owners!

Undertale by Toby Fox

Horrortale by Sour Apple Studios

Farmtale by GuinongTale_AU

Enjoy!

Warnings ⚠️ : sick fic, angst, little blood, light injuries/ scratches, inaccurate medical stuff (Don't try to stay out in rain you will catch a cold!) , dizziness, (I don't know what else to add in the warnings, you can inform me! 💕)

Cover Photo Karolina Grabowska from Pexels

Chapter 1 : you are here 💙

Chapter 2: press here 💋

CHAPTER 1 :

“RAIN”

Photo by Pixabay from Pexels

🌾

He had heard in the radio that there will be a bad weather. He made sure to protect his crops and his animals. He had gathered the wheat, oat, herbs, botanical plants and wood (etc).

His animals were safe; he had added enough water and food.

He went towards the fields. By the time the clouds began gathering he had finished protecting most of his crops.

He saw the clouds approaching slowly. He kept working; he had a few more things to take care of.

The rain started a little earlier than he anticipated. When the first drops of rain fell he was still taking care of his crops.

The rain was soft. As if it was holding back and waited for Sticks to finish his job.

Once he finished, the rain grew a little stronger. He checked his animals again one last time. Everything was okay. He looked at his field. Everything seemed okay.

The rain was cold against his bones. His clothes all wet, dripping wet.

As he was returning home the rain grew stronger. It no longer held back it's power.

He started running in an attempt to go faster but slipped in the mud

Aaand came face down in rain scratching, cracking his elbows and patellas a little. He will have bruises tomorrow. Oh boy.

He got up and after 2-3 minutes he reached home.

He noticed Axe sitting by the kitchen's window looking concerned and holding some items on his hands.

Sticks grinned. Once he was within view, Axe saw him. It was adorable how his expression went from concern to happiness, shock, concern again. He grinned at them. Axe went and opened the door.

Once he entered his home. Axe greeted him. Sticks greeted him back.

Sans was shivering and dripping wet.

Axe stretched his hands towards him. Sticks took the towels and he removed his clothes letting them in the corner "Thanks buddy! careful not to slip, I'll go take a shower."

Axe nodded. He stepped in the side. He sat in the window watching the rain. Strong wind blew and thunders lit up the sky.

Sticks entered his room, took some clothes, entered the bathroom and took a quick shower. When he was done he realized he forgot to take his shirt and flannel. He cleaned the bathroom, put on his pants and went in his bedroom.

He saw his clothes on the bed. As he went to put on the shirt, he sensed a presence.

Sticks looked over his shoulder, Axe was looking at him sternly arms crossed.

"Uhm..."

Axe kept giving him a stern look and a grunt.

"So, judging by the way you are looking at me.. You want to make sure I am okay, you gonna tell my brother I was a bad boy for staying out in rain and I am not gonna hear the end of it am I?"

Axe tried to keep a straight face but he smirked a little.

As Sticks put his black T-shirt, Axe noticed some blood on his 'elbows'.

He narrowed his eyes, uncrossed his arms and walked closer. He gently touched with his index finger Stick's elbows.

Sticks grimaced slightly, good thing he had his back turned. He turned around and saw Axe. Who was eyeing him concerned. Sticks spoke softly

"I was running to come here faster but slipped. It's nothing to worry about".

Axe remained silent. He exited the room. Sticks put on his red flannel and buttoned it.

Just then Axe returned. Sans saw the first aid kit in his hands. Sticks smiled.

Axe gently raised the sleeves took care of the small injuries. "Thank you buddy, now let's go eat hm?"

Axe nodded "Can.." he spoke. Sticks looked at him, his face shining at the sound of Axes voice.

He could speak but used it rarely. "Can I help you?" he asked. "Of course" he replied and smiled. Axe gave him back a small smile.

"Let's go buddy". He wrapped his hand around his shoulder. Axe blushed slightly.

They made soup. Axe boiled the water, Sans cut the vegetables, added spices, salt amd pepper.

When done.

They sat down to enjoy their meal. Axe was giving concerned looks at him. He was eyeing him from top to toe.

Sticks had dark circles under his eyes. His bones seemed paler than normal. He could feel Axe's eyes piercing him.

He said nothing. They ate in silence. Axe was eating but inspecting him as well.

Truth be told, last days were difficult..

He couldn't rest and couldn't sleep. He couldn't take a nap.

He was just tired- no. No, he was exhausted. Being caught in the rain didn't help.

When finished with their food, he picked up the plates. Axe offered to wash them "You go to rest, I'll wash them" Sticks smiled "How about I dry them? Then we both go to sleep?"

Axe smiled "fine but if you feel like you had enough go to bed!" his voice playfully stern. Sticks nodded. They teamed up to do the dishes.

When everything was tidied up they went to bed.

"Goodnight Axe" he spoke softly.

"Goodnight sticks" he tenderly replied.

Even though It was raining all evening, night and next day until the dawn. It felt like a 3 days rain. He could hear the strong winds and the thunders.

(The next day )

Sticks felt the consequences of his actions crawling all over him.

The sun rose, the birds chirped, the flowers bloomed and sans woke up feeling terrible.

He felt as if someone had drained all energy from him, his joints and his entire body ached. He coughed a little. His throat felt dry.

He gathered what little strength he had and cooked breakfast. Eggs and bacon. He drank some tea to sooth his throat.

He ate a little bit, he didn't have that much of an appetite. He took some vitamins so his body will last a little and not fall apart.

Axe was still sleeping. He checked him from the creak of their door, he smiled softly. He turned around and walked outside. He stretched slightly.

He prepared himself for the day..

Papyrus is sooooo going to kill him for not taking care of himself!

To his defense he couldn't leave years of hard work to be ruined by rain! Okay? Okay.

His body even with that little breakfast and vitamins was still begging him to rest..

... yet there he was.. working...!

Little by little he had released the protection from almost all of his crops.

They were all okay!

Good, his sacrifice didn't go for nothing!

He checked the time 13.00 o' clock. There were clouds in the sky offering him some coolness. There was a soft breeze.

He then decided to fix his sunflowers, chamomile, and of course his red roses. It wasn't so hard.

The sunflowers were quite beautiful, they had grown taller. He admired them. When he was done fixing them. He turned his attention to the red roses. He leaned forward slightly and sniffed their fragrance.

So beautiful. Maybe he should try to make a sweet the next days? There were quite enough blossoms.

Next check up were his chickens.

He added food and water. He took some of the eggs. His favorite one an old hen gently rubbed her head on his pants. (Note: he loves all his animals, is just that some of them express their affection a little more and had them more years so.. yeah)

He knelt down slightly and caught her in his arms. He gently patted her head.

Even his hen gave him a concerned look.

Did he really looked that bad?

He leaned forwards gently in order to put her down. He sighed "Im fine darling, just a rough week"

The hen rubbed her head on his chest as farewell and then went to eat.

He walked slowly outside to check the rest of his animals.

He checked his sheeps; Okay they had food and water.

Last but not least he visited his baby!

Brinley! He walked in and offered her a treat.

She slammed her foot on the ground and with her nose she gently pushed him out. She understood he wasn't feeling well.

"What?" he looked at her as he was pushed out. He adjusted his hat.

"huff *whine* "

"I had work to do" he spoke crossing his hands slightly on his chest. (He had overworked). (not only he stayed outside in rain but the soft breeze against his sweating body wasn't a very good idea!)

He still needed to gather some fruits and vegetables from the crops. But they could wait another day right?

«I mean papyrus will come back in 2 days? today? tomorrow?...??... When was he coming back again?» he thought

She huffed. He offered her some food and water. Then he went to pet her. She nudge him gently with her nose, he caressed her neck gently. She rubbed her face on his chest

As he attempted to leave he felt dizzy and tripped. He took a hold of the wood for support.

She eyed him concerned. She whined and gently touched his back. Her eyes pleading. He turned around to look at her.

"Maybe you are right Brinley. I'll just gather some fruits and vegetables and go home" he patted her.

As he was proceeding to leave his vision blurred and fall down. Brinley walked towards him. She whined and gently touched him with her face.

"Im fine just dizzy.. Mind if I stay with you a little?" he asked.

She knelt and curled up around him. His chest felt heavy. "I knew I could count on you!" she huffed. "Thank you Brinley" she smiled slightly.

After around 20 minutes. He got up feeling good enough to walk.

He patted her again. He was sweating and feeling terrible.

"See ya later again sweetie!", she gently touched his chest with her forehead. He patted her and left.

He went home and did some chores. (that's what he had planned).

Surprised, he found that Axe had cleaned the floor and dusted the surfaces. He also found the vegetables he wanted to pick up (but forgot) neatly above the table. Axe was sitting patiently.

Sans smiled fondly "Thank you bud!" he proceeded to do the laundry and eventually he started cooking. Axe helped him.

He cooked enough and for later.

When done Axe offered to wash the dishes and that he takes a shower and a nap.

He took a quick shower and fall asleep on the couch.

When Axe was done with the dishes. He noticed that Sans had cooked enough for dinner and tomorrow. He smiled and put it on the fridge.

After he finished his jobs with the kitchen he gently went to see Sticks.

He had fallen asleep in the couch wrapped in a blanket and hugging the pillow.

Axe stood there a little admiring his beauty.

We put aside the fact he looks like- tired as heck! In Axe's eyes he is handsome.

He leaned down and gently touched his forehead, he was warm. He gently untangled the pillow and picked him up bridal style. Sticks shoved himself a little further in Axe's chest. Axe smirked and blushed.

He reached his room, gently laid him down on bed, he covered him with the blanket, turned off the lights and went to sleep.

End of Chapter 1 😘

It's quite long, so I will split it in Parts!Comments, Constructive Criticism, Feedback is welcomed! Please let me know what you think! 💕

Thank you for reading! 💙

CHAPTER 2 press here 💋

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booze-hats · 7 months ago

Text

Walk Through (3/4)

Pickle Inspector looked at his cell phone somewhere around twenty minutes into their meeting and when he looked up, his face had changed, and Diamonds Droog was very keenly aware of it. Pickle Inspector knew that Diamonds Droog was aware of it. They'd sang this song and danced this dance for years, Droog's eyebrows said every word and Inspector sighed, then turned his eyes to his tea in hopes of avoiding the inevitable. It was so familiar.

"What?"

"N-nothing."

"Inspector, please."

==> <== FIRST

"Sleuth's out."

"Out doing?"

"I'm not sure. He's... Going to the casino."

Droog did not look as tolerant as usual. Inspector was incredibly aware of this fact. He straightened his back and took a breath. These quieter moments of professionalism really felt like a game of chess every so often, and Diamonds played excellently. "What does that mean?" was delivered coolly, with no accusation in his voice. He was hard to read, but the bounce in his leg and the little tilt of his head spoke volumes. Or, maybe he was overthinking the whole thing. Even overthinking the micro expressions was familiar, the routine was beginning to feel unnerving.

"Um, well — well, it could mean any number of things, but I'm thinking, I'm thinking, it's probably something to do with Slick. He called him a source."

The leg bouncing stopped and Droog leaned forward. His eyes shifted down to his coffee (or an invisible chessboard underneath?) and then moved back to Pickle Inspector. His brows had moved inwards, his lips pulled down. He was displeased. Expectedly so, those two were nothing but trouble, especially together. They may not get themselves hurt, but somebody else almost definitely would be by the end of whatever shitfest they brewed up together. Droog looked down again, this time at his cell phone on the table, and turned on the screen. "Have you got anywhere to be after this?"

"No."

His next move was anticipated. "Would you like to pay them a visit?" didn't come as a surprise at all. Of course, Inspector's somber nod couldn't have surprised Droog, either. A sip of coffee that was longer than it needed to be preceded Droog's next question. "Do you think they're going to move quickly?"

"No. Not unless Sleuth's got some, uhm... New idea. He didn't understand it."

Droog nodded. "Wonderful. Then, after you finish your coffee, we'll go."

#doors #the felt #homestuck #intermission #hs intermission #problem sleuth #pickle inspector #diamonds droog #pidd

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meetthetank · 1 year ago

Text

I was possessed by demons in my brain to write priest!hero getting deflowered

Read here or Ao3

Henry is a good man. He is the leader of the local parish, the favorite ordained priest of the parishioners, always kind, always loved. He is pious, and humble, everything a priest should be. A model for the community and universally loved.

But he is a sinful, covetous man.

The woman with silky black hair has tempted him for months, seen outside of the chapel on frequent occasions. At the store, at the park, on the street, at college. Yes, he was fresh out of seminary, the youngest pastor in the archdiocese, and Mari, the black-haired woman’s name he learned, had also just graduated with a degree in music. Every time he saw her he swore the light of god shone down on her, placing a halo of light that reflected off her shining hair. Always dressed rather conservatively, but showing much more than most would dare without showing anything at all. Full chest and waist, slender legs, and soulful eyes that matched her hair. Only in direct sunlight could he see that they were the softest, kindest brown he’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, their friendship. No, it progressed further than anticipated and faster. A touch of the wrist, a lingering hand on the shoulder, a cupped cheek, and suddenly their hands were in each other’s hair or crawling sinfully under clothes. Her body was taught, he found. She hurt her knee ages ago, yet she still played softball. She admired his body just the same, her hands wandered over the thin layer of fat that concealed his muscles.

They never dared to go further than groping each other in the halls where no one could find them after the parishioners had left and the janitors had locked all but Hero’s office door. Oh, they both knew how much they craved the other, but Hero had always remained true to his vows. His hands could love her, please her. Even his mouth could. But he never allowed her to let him finish. That was a line he wavered at day after day. The last bastion of his vows, and yet that line grew thinner and thinner every day.

Mari lies on top of him tonight. They didn’t make it to his office this time, and his resolve is destroyed to the point that he no longer cares that the crucifix hangs above him. She has him pinned to a pew in the front row, just in front of the altar.

“I brought something,” she says and sits up.

Her thighs are on either side of Henry’s hips. An erection already strains at his black pants. Thoughts of how he will service her tonight are halted by curiosity. “What?”

She gets up, leaving cold in her wake, and retrieves a bag much larger than her sensible purple purse. He didn’t even notice it before, such is her distractions. A contraption of belts and studs loops around her hand. His eyes widen at what follows.

“Uhm-”

“What do you think?” She asks, trailing a finger across the head of the purple phallus in her hand.

“I-I…”

Mari traps his hands in hers and pulls them to her lips. “Remember? We talked about this if you’re still okay with it.”

“I am!” He answers a bit too quickly and a bit too loudly. “I just didn’t expect so… soon.”

“Oh, I’ll admit I got a little excited,” she giggles. With a grace only she could master, she slides off him and begins to remove her skirt and panties. “You know how I love to tease you.”

Mari’s words send a delightful shiver down his spine. God if this was so wrong, why did he want it so bad? “I know you do…”

He sits there staring dumbly as Mari affixes the dildo to the harness and slides it over her thighs. It only needs to be adjusted a little bit. The image of her standing proudly, hands on her hips, with an erection does something to his stomach he’s never experienced before. Is it fear? Or Arosal? Or some blasphemous mix of both.

The harsh echoing click of a plastic bottle opening snaps him out of his daze. She squeezes a healthy portion of lube onto her hand and begins stroking the fake cock.

“You should probably start taking your pants off.”

Her words aren’t a command, but Henry finds his body reacting as if it were. With enchanted precision, he unbuckles his belt and shimmies out of his uniform piece by piece, until he’s fully nude. She smiles at him and beckons him over to the altar.

“Over here?” He stammers, eyes wide yet dark. “But-”

“There’s pillows over here, you’ll need something for your knees.”

Henry shuts up as she slips her hand into his. It’s cold and slick. All he can stare at is the glistening, purple cock jiggling obscenely at her groin. He swallows and allows himself to be led into position.

Mari knows what she’s doing, he can tell by the confident way he’s moved. He’s on his hand and knees, ass in the air like a cat in heat. Or maybe he’s a dog; he has the collar for it. The idea of being Mari’s dog makes his cock twitch. How easily he’s debased.

“Tell me if it gets too much for you, okay?” Her gentle words pour into his ear like hot wax.

He nods, and her warmth is slowly removed from him. Once he works up the nerve to look behind him, he sees Mari kneel behind him and angle his hips down a little more. She is much smaller than him after all. The bottle of lube returns, this time poured onto two fingers. His eyes widen as they disappear past his hips.

The sensation is unlike anything he’s felt before. Henry winces and his breath hitches. Mari’s two fingers press gently inside him, working into places he didn’t know were as sensitive as they were.

“Did you know there are about as many nerves here as in your fingertips?” She asks him as she spreads her fingers apart. Henry can’t make any noise other than a choked hiss. “Just a fun fact I learned. I’m surprised most guys don’t know about it.”

Henry groans from a place deep in his chest. “I-I don’t think most guys are doing this.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised, Father.”

He can hear Mari giggle behind him as her fingers curl and press against something inside him that makes his vision turn white. When oxygen fills his chest once more, he looks back at her.

“Wh… at,” he pants, “was that?!”

“Something else most guys don’t know about. Or at least guys I’ve met.”

“D-Devil woman…”

Mari giggles and continues stretching him out. “Condemn me all you want, Father. But it’s part of your god’s design. Isn’t it? Why would he put it there and make it feel good if he didn’t want you to use it?”

Is this the correct place to have a crisis of faith? Probably not.

Soon Henry finds himself rocking back and forth against her hand, silently begging for her to hit that spot once again. Unfortunately, Mari seems to pick on this, and, with a giggle, she kisses the side of his face. She removes her fingers from his depths, and he keens like a puppy for her touch.

“Aww, poor boy.” she coos as she drags a fingernail across his spine. “All worked up?”

He shoots a look back at her. He doesn’t imagine it’s very intimidating while he’s flushed deep red and slick with sweat already.

Mari palms his ass, massaging the muscles beneath her touch. “You’ve treated me so well, so why don’t I return the favor?”

Henry shudders as he watches her line up the fake cock with his waiting hole. His aching neck forces him to drop his head, but the moment she does it begins to slide inside him. The ridges he never saw pull against his flesh, gently gliding inside under Mari’s heavenly touch. Any time he tenses too much, she slows down and allows him to adjust. He feels so full, and it’s only halfway inside. Bumps and divots press against sensitive unexplored parts that make him pant and moan, filling the church with the sounds of his defilement.

She bottoms out, her hips pressed flush against his ass. She’s inside him, deflowering him, and oh God it’s better than her tongue inside his mouth or the taste of her cum on his lips. God forgive him or condemn him. He couldn’t care less.

And Mari hasn’t even started moving yet.

The moment she does, rocking her hips outward, he moans and grips the plush carpet beneath him. His back arches when she slides back inside. They find a rhythm together that’s slow enough to allow Henry time to adjust to her cock, and fast enough to satisfy his carnal desire.

“I’m going to move faster now,” she says directly into the back of his neck. Her promise is fulfilled in tandem with her teeth in the skin of his nape.

He cries out to whoever will listen to his prayers. His vision flashes white every time she slams into the spot. Something dangerous tenses inside his stomach, a peak, or a point of no return. A threat.

And he dives headfirst into it.

Henry rocks with her bucking hips, and he can tell by her moans that she’s enjoying this as much as he is. They call each other’s names like psalms, and he doesn’t even care that her hand wraps around his cock.

The cliff approaches faster than he realizes as something releases inside his stomach. Henry’s entire body shudders with an onslaught of sinful electricity that ignites his brain. The decision to leave the cloth is cemented as he cries out the name of his new, black-haired goddess. Her fingers tighten around his cock and it happens again, this time with the spilling of seed against the off-pink carpet.

“Oh, Henry… Look at the mess you’ve made,” Mari says as her pace slows to a stop.

Henry twitches, his body no longer able to support itself. He flops to the side and pulls Mari with him. She slots into place behind him, spooning him on the floor behind the altar.

Her soft fingers brush the hair from his eyes, It’s sticky with sweat. “You okay? Was it too much.”

Henry looks at her with the adoration reserved for a higher power. “It was perfect. I’ll have to repay you too, for teaching me.”

“Oh, Father. You can study the book of Mari all night if you wish.”

He just laughs, a breathless sighing sound. “That was terrible.”

“Yes, but I made you laugh. So it’s okay.”

The following morning, the carpet at the altar is surprisingly spotless. As if it had just been cleaned.

#omori #omori fanfic #hero omori #mari omori #priest au

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kazxraval · 4 months ago

Text

Ziplines and other entries into buildings of only a few floors not necessary. "Yeah. Smart thinking." Fingers ran through an unruly patch of Emre's curls and for a split second Kaz smiled. "When we get down to the street, we should look for other shortcuts they've added to this place." They-- whoever utilized the tallest buildings and still called Seattle home.

Kaz laughed, short and gruff. "Distract? You're the one distracting, grabbing my ass every five seconds." Clearly Kaz didn't mind. "Yeah, I figure you'll have an easy time getting through this window. I don't want to knock out more of the glass to get through. In case they--" he hooked a thumb back to the doors --"got people waiting down on the ground. Don't want them to hear anything but until we're out and hauling ass outta here. And think I found another one I can use."

Kaz watched Emre searched through his backpack with a furrowed brow. "Uhm. Could be a gang? Maybe there are more people here than we think, and it's a way to keep up with who aligns with who? Dunno." His expression relaxed into one of marvel when the Sharpie appeared. Kaz's heart ran fast in his chest. A different smile appeared, longer lasting. Fuzzy around the corners like the admiration he felt then. No, a fondness, one that buzzed around his brain before it washed down his spine.

"You're brilliant. You know that?" Kaz turned Emre's wrist up and held it. He took the cap of the Sharpie off with his teeth and spat it out. Kaz began to draw what he remembered of the pattern over Emre's already blue inked skin. Diligently, quickly he drew. At the end, he bent down and lifted Emre's shirt, and before a sound could be made he wrote 'KAZ' in big fast letters on Emre's belly, with a small 'x' beneath. "There," and Kaz looked pleased with himself. Cap retrieved, and the Sharpie went into his own backpack. "If we end up needing it, I'll do my own."

Let's go there. Sealed between them, close enough to nudge noses and try yo bury into each other's skin, with an affection not known before and not one Kaz was willing to give up any time soon. The spell was broken when Kaz had to explain Priti. He didn't hate her so much as he resented the unwillingness to only give him the coldest part of herself. To explain it to someone who enshrined their parents behind the clearest glass, even as Urmilla's past was murky as hell, was too difficult then.

Why couldn't Emre just get it? Breathe it in like a long hookah drag, hold it in his lungs, let it settle? The heat in Kaz's ears and around his neck temporarily kept him from hearing anything. Emre reaching for a wrist extinguished some of the fire. Kaz stayed quiet. They needed to move. Avoid Priti, not waste the time to talk about her. And he couldn't help but crack a smile as they parted. You bring out the murder in mums, my luv.

Kaz did not anticipate a smooth departure. Ali's mouth held a mean little line. Feroze strolled along too casual, too airy. He felt how close Emre stuck to him, and if Kaz could will the teleporter to take them back, he would.

Kaz always thought Emre easily talked to others, but it bothered to hear the chat with Ali. The little boy verbally thumbed his nose back.

You know what I'm saying? The skin on the back of his neck prickled. "I know," Kaz returned in Gujarati. Ali's staccato giggle pinged around the street they moved down. Kaz gave the kid his deepest frown as Ali doubled over to laugh, continuing to walk.

'Your friend. He does not speak it?' Feroze continued, walking next to Ali and shooting another look over his shoulder.

Kaz again answered in Gujarati without a look to Emre. Some tug in his gut said to lie. "He does not. Why do you ask this question?"

Ali halted a step to force Emre to either run into him from behind or skid to a halt to prevent a crash. The childish laugh that followed almost sent Kaz through the roof. Ali turned to Feroze, and brought the conversation back to English. 'I told you what I saw!' Ali wrapped his arms around himself. The thin boy began to wiggle around, his eyes closed, his lips pursed with a few wet kissing sounds. A child's attempt to harrass. 'Course luv. Luv. My luv.' An overacted (and poorly delivered) imitation of Emre's accent. 'K-I-S-S-I-'

Feroze pulled Ali over mid-chime by the sleeve of his shirt, and then locked an arm tighter around the kid's shoulders. He slowed to a stop. 'You are being a very rude boy. Ali. This is not funny, tell them you're sorry.'

They were near the waterfront now, where a long line of buildings stretched out. What used to be open air markets and shops, with a glimpse in between of the ocean. Ali's face contorted into something stormy, and his brown eyes burned with a new type of contempt at everyone, but particularly Feroze. 'I won't say it!' Ali yelled as he spiraled out of Feroze's hold, almost tearing his shirt. His feet slapped heavy as he darted between two buildings towards the water.

Feroze gave them a plasticine smile. 'Kids,' was his shrug of a comment, as though Ali's tantrum was an every day occurrence, not to be bothered by. 'You want to trade, right? Come, let me show you what you need to do.'

The man led them between the same buildings Ali dashed through. On the other side, the view opened to the port they spied earlier when up on the roof. A variety of boats were docked at piers, while more floated further out in the water.

Feroze pulled a walkie talkie from a rucksack. He opened a channel and spoke. 'I've got two who want to trade. Permission to bring them over.' Static erupted from the device. Seconds passed. A loud buh-leep and a garbled voice asked for a name. Once Feroze provided his, the person on the other end gave an ok.

'This is us,' Feroze led them over to a small fishing boat, presumably the way to get to where they were going. 'Trades happen on Whidbey Island. Ever been, Kaz?'

Kaz. They hadn't given Feroze their names, had they? "Probably. When I was a kid. How do you know my name?"

He climbed on board and cranked the engine. Another congenial smile. 'Ali told me. He heard you two talking. Kids are nosy, aren't they?' Feroze looked between them. 'Come on. You're going to like what you find out there. You won't be disappointed. Say, Emre. Ever been to Seattle before? We don't have a long trip but I can point out some things along the way.'

"Seems the mechanisms all centralized, erm. Localized? Around here -" Emre poked his head out of the broken window carefully, trying to look around outside to find more around the buildings, but without much success. Still, he stuck to his theory - maybe because it was true, and maybe because he wanted to placate his agitated Kaz, who seemed pissed for his oversight. "I reckon all these clever little lifts and ziplines is only in this skyscraper area, yeah. None where we was teleported to." A simple reason for that: "Shorter buildings."

Emre nodded with a quick smile of agreement at Kaz, adding, "Slick if it works." A confident nod as Kaz envisioned Emre on the building's ledge outside. "Sure I can. Just don't distract me with any of your wiggling or looks, yeah. Pull a stiffy on that ledge and it'd push me right off. What - you got a different way to reaching the pulley yourself?" Maybe the broken window was too risky for Kaz's longer build.

He mentioned the tattoo and Emre frowned, rubbing at his own wrist. "Might just be a tattoo. You reckon it's something more. A gang tat or that? Here - " Emre unsaddled his backpack, rummaging around until he found a sharpie. He pressed it into Kaz's hand. "Keep that, try recreating the tat, yeah? Might come in handy." If it worked. Fake tattoos on themselves, drawn with a Sharpie. Would anyone here fall for that, if they were inspected? "All we've got to do is survive."

Emre had no intention of splitting up, but sometimes needs must. Still - Kaz's firm refusal of even considering the possibility was just...Emre sighed. Not exhale, not huffed. But truly sighed, like a lovestruck kid. "My darling," Emre demurred under the cushiony warmth of Kaz's kiss to his hand. An additional feral nuzzle between them, as Emre squeezed Kaz's hand. "Yeah. If we can get to the courthouses, right? Let's go there." A snorty laugh. "Never thought I'd voluntarily go to courthouses."

The soft warmth gave way to cold marble, possessing Kaz from his opaque, implacable gaze (one that looked through Emre, like Kaz was eon's away, boring fiery holes into memories and wishing they'd burn the present-day alive) to the way his entire frame seemed to still. Not stiffen, not freeze. But still. It was frightening, the immediacy of this reaction at the shock of seeing, of all people, Kaz's mother. And she was no hapless survivor or moaning victim. Apparently Priti was now some kind of leader, shouting to her people, taking head of the charge.

But that wasn't the point, was it? Emre realized that to Kaz, it didn't matter if Priti had transformed or even was alive. She was the opposition and even Kaz's irrepressible curiousity couldn't compete with that level of pain. Perhaps not an enemy; that might validate Priti's existence in Kaz's periphery too much. Give her too much importance. It was still hard to understand for Emre; but in a way that it simply broke his heart, to see this. Another missed opportunity; similar to Kaz's inexorable unwillingness to engage with the ghost of dear little Ani. But Emre remembered what Melody had whispered to him, before she disappeared forever. 'You don't have to understand or even agree, babes. You've just got to love him."

Emre remembered that he could do this, too. He'd done it for Iyaz, after Iyaz came out. Took Emre a good year to adjust, let some control over his brother go. But Emre did, and Iyaz forgave him for it. He wouldn't make Kaz wait a year.

"You never had a mother," Emre said, with a slight kiss of his teeth. He grasped for Kaz again, hands wrapped around Kaz's cool wrist. "Yeah. You're right. That woman innt nothing. We'll go and you'll never have to see her again, yeah. And she don't got no right to ever see you. Fuck her."

Granted, the revenge could've been sweet, Emre liked to imagine. Priti's face gawping, to see her magnificent eldest, so strong and healthy and perfect, and perfectly fine without her. If she was to be hated, then she should suffer for missing out on Kaz. But Emre liked petty types of spite and revenge a bit more than Kaz. He'd mention it to Kaz, but later when things weren't this tightly wound and escape more imperative.

Emre stayed quiet, mulling over the possibility of Priti being so hideously cruel, to let someone kill her own son. Granted, look what happened when Urmilla reunited with Kaz, only a few months back. Literally Kaz was almost killed, right in front of her. "You bring out the murder in mums, my luv," Emre called out to Kaz, who exited his own way, as Emre exited through the window.

Traveling outside the building was less difficult than Emre expected. He was too old for this shit but...it was pretty fun too. Reliving his youth and all. Emre hopped down and reached to Kaz in the loading bay, but Kaz already got him first, to warn him to hush. Emre peered down the overgrown street and saw...what looked like he could be Kaz's little cousin, really. Emre blinked, looking up at Kaz to see if he thought the same thing. Granted, Kaz's face was at resting default - giving away as much as a blank sheet of paper at the sight of the two kids.

'Whoa, hey. Hi.'

Fucking hell, they even sounded the same. Well, Kaz was generally less pleasant, but that was just Kaz. Who responded to Feroze's rather leading question - a hint or a trap? Emre couldn't tell, but he kept his eyes on Ali. Little Ali, who Emre and Kaz had beaten up. It felt a little shameful now; two grown men whaling on a little screaming boy. And now the boy was silent, obedient to Feroze's squeezing hand on his scrawny shoulder.

"What about your mummy, Ali?" Emre couldn't help but ask, sticking as close to Kaz as possible as they followed. His one hand hovered near Kaz's, like he wanted to hold hands but didn't just yet. His cutlass on his belt harness, ready to pull by his other hand. Emre eyed around them, searching deliberately now for shadows and peering faces in this strange city. "You was crying for her, not your elder. How'd you get down here so fast?"

'Why do you talk like that?' Ali piped up, his squint at Emre both judgey and insouciant. 'You sound dumb.'

'Hey, be good,' Feroze chided Ali, but in Gujarati. He glanced over his shoulder at Emre, but lingered more on Kaz. 'You know what I'm saying?'

#c: emre

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