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suniloli · 1 year ago

Text

BOILING POINT p3

7 Feb 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8K (dayum)

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, crude language, description of blood and violence, angst

Setting: Prison (between s3 and 4)

Summary: It’s the next day at the prison, and you’re feeling good. However, something is said which is way over the boundary of acceptable. Is this truly it?

Author Note: Final part! And obviously who wants to read a fic of two people fighting for like 72 years? I know most readers probably wouldn’t act this way. But too bad >:) I’m thinking this might be a bit out of character for Daryl…but it amuses me so why not? I hope the carrot joke makes sense. I also hope the 'pay off' isn't rushed. (This gif is funny) -Sol

Part 1 / Part 2

Surprisingly, the next morning you were much more chipper. The sun was shining brightly through your cell curtain, and you could hear the chatter and laughter of people in the prison. Today’s gonna be a good day you smiled to yourself.

You tried to forget yesterday. You guessed crying it all out and venting to Rick must’ve allowed your brain to finally come to the beginnings of peace, and to let go of this whole thing with Daryl. He didn’t want a relationship with you anymore. And, who cares if he wanted one anyway? It’s hurting you too much. It’s hurting you both.

You were done.

So, no matter what happened, today was going to be good. You could feel it.

Normally you hated doing stuff in the garden, but today it was quite therapeutic. Bound to have some mighty tan lines with the sun beating down on your singlet-bearing skin, you fixed up your gloves. Wiping a bead of sweat from your hairline, you adjusted your sunglasses and pushed yourself up from your crouched position. Sighing contentedly, you observed the hustle and bustle of the mid-morning prison activity.

There were plenty of people in the courtyard sitting together in groups talking and laughing, sharing in the day’s glow. You could see Carol and some other women conversing and preparing some stuff in the outdoor kitchenette. Across the other side of the grounds, Glenn was teaching a group of people some combat skills. Turning around, you looked up to the watchtowers and saw Maggie and Sasha. You reciprocated Sasha’s wave and Maggie’s smirk and turned around when you felt a presence behind you.

“Hey Beth!” you greeted with a pat on her shoulder.

“Hey Y/N. Bringin’ round some water to everyone.”

“Thanks,” you said, eagerly grabbing a glass and chugging it within a couple of seconds. Handing it back to Beth with a grin, you added, “What? It’s hot out.”

Giggling, she agreed and placed the tray on the ground. “I can already see the burn on your shoulders…don’t be turnin’ into a lobster now!”

Nudging her with your elbow, you feigned offence. “I tan beautifully, thank you very much.”

Your banter was interrupted by a group of people from Woodbury. A few hey’s and friendly exchanges were made, mainly between Beth and them. They were a bunch of younger teens, some of which you recognised. The one with glasses was Patrick, who you liked because he was fond of Carl. And another was Zach. He was the one giving Beth rather flirtatious glances. Cute.

You waited until they left before speaking. “You get along pretty well with that Zach guy…”

“Hmm?”

You smiled. “Zach. The guy who was giving you flirty eyes.”

“What?! No he wasn’t…” Beth looked down shyly.

“Uh, yeah he was. The dude was flirting with you big time. For the record, I think it’s cute.”

“Do you think so?” Beth asked. Oh, to be a teenager with a crush again.

“YES. FYI, we’re living in the apocalypse. So if I were you, I’d go for it. Time is truly of the essence these days…” you mused.

“I’ll make you a deal…if I make a move, you have to too.”

A huff of air escaped your nostrils. “With whom exactly?” You humoured. You realised what she was hinting at until it was too late.

“Daryl of course. And for your information,” Beth paused, a cheeky expression taking over her face. “I saw the two of you that one time…behind the stables…”

“Uhhh…”

“My window was open…” she said sheepishly. You didn’t say anything. “He likes you, I can tell — ”

“That was a mistake. What…happened…meant nothing.” You tried to divert.

“As you said, time is of the essence. You should talk to him.” You could see her deliberating something in her mind. The next second, she brought you in for a tight hug which caught you off guard. “I…heard yesterday…it ain't very nice what he said. I’m sorry…”

Slowly returning the embrace, you took a long breath. “Well, I’m over it.”

Looking up at you, she sighed and gave you the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Well," she began, in an attempt to lift the mood, "As long as you know that I love you Y/N, and I’ll never let you go!” She squeezed tighter around your waist.

“Get out of here!” You laughed, trying to push her off and away from you. “Go hand out some more drinks!” Beth released a hearty laugh as she picked up the tray and headed to the other workers.

You looked down at your half-full bucket of harvested veggies. You sighed deeply. You just couldn’t escape him.

Fuck.

It was much closer to lunchtime when you approached the main courtyard. It was as if the people could sense that it was going to be served soon. However, as you approached, the delicious smell emanating from the kitchen space would’ve had you all antsy too if you’d been around.

“Howdy ladies,” You drawled. “Stew smells ab-so-lutely divine. Delicious. Delectable.” Placing your yield in front of an amused Carol, you pinched a carrot and munched on it slightly obnoxiously. Receiving a look of feigned disgust from her, you were satisfied.

“You like the letter D I see” she quipped. You hadn’t noticed someone standing by your side when you pointed your carrot to her and tried to keep a straight face.

“I certainly do like the D. But the kind exactly like this carrot. Thick…real girthy…”

A beat of silence before Carol burst out laughing. Your laughter was getting difficult to hold. You could feel the air being held captive in your lungs as you attempted to hold your breath. Eyes still sparkling, she looked a little to your right, pointing with the utensil in her hand.

“Like his D, I’m sure…”

You turned to see none other than Daryl, who seemed to be waiting with a pained expression. Based on his odd-looking grimace, you awkwardly assumed he’d heard everything.

Carol…you bastard.

You looked back to Carol, whose mischievous smirk turned slightly perplexed at his demeanour. Unbeknownst to you, Carol was thinking about her and Daryl’s conversation yesterday, and how she’d seemingly gotten through to him. She thought that you two had talked and ‘made up’. Guess not…

“Real classy, ain’t ya?” he spoke under his breath.

You got it wrong. Today was not going to be a good day.

As Daryl nearly threw a cut of raw meat down on the bench for its use in the stew, you attempted to keep it nonchalant.

“Lighten up Daryl,” you smirked, pausing for a couple of seconds. He looked up at you. You couldn’t help but stir the pot. Just a little. If not for yourself, but for the reaction of your friend next to you, you told yourself. “It’s not like I’m missing out on anything,” you said sarcastically, giving Daryl’s body a once over. You were about to ignore him and continue with Carol until you heard his voice, more of a growl than an actual utterance.

“Don’t seem like ya missin’ out on any dick lately.”

You could sense a silence overtake the people in the kitchenette. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Daryl be that vulgar before. But, you were incensed at his insinuation. Did you hear what you thought you did?

“......What?”

Daryl went to stalk off, but you moved forward, gripped his forearm, and turned him back around harshly.

“WHAT?”

“Ya heard me.” He spat. You were completely baffled. You had no idea what he was talking about. You did what you could to try and remain calm.

“What. Are you fucking on about?” you said slowly. You attempted to clench your fists at your sides to subdue the growing feeling. Your heart rate was beginning to rise. This was not good. And you still hadn’t even finished your carrot.

Staring you up and down, he seemed to consider you. But just as the softness in his eyes was there, it quickly vanished, and in its place was something sad and bitter.

Daryl aggressively chewed his bottom lip. “How bout’ ya just go find some desperate dick to warm ya bed.”

“Daryl!” Carol chastised. You glanced at her, at a complete loss for words.

You were barely aware of the growing crowd of people who were wondering what the commotion was about. However, that was your last straw. You’d had it with him and his emotional back and forth. Daryl’s face was looking punchable as fuck.

Holding back tears, it was like something possessed you. “You FUCK —”

"Y/N!" Carol yelled. Before she could stop you, you landed a beautiful left hook to Daryl’s nose. Immediately a rivulet of red poured from his nostrils. Daryl was stunned, to say the least.

“Uugghh!” Holding his face, he removed his hands to look at them. Daryl immediately moved forward to push you. “What tha' hell Y/N?!”

Luckily for you, your adrenaline had given you ultra instincts. You didn’t even register the pain in your hand as you deflected his own. Out of pure anger, you managed to shove both of you to the ground.

Half straddling him, you managed to lay a few good punches into his face, before Daryl realised his strength. Kneeing you in the guts, momentarily winding you, he flipped you over, and mid-flip his right hook made contact with your left eye. You could feel your eyebrow split open and felt something warm gush down your face.

You could vaguely hear children screaming and yelling in the distance. You thought you could see a crowd of people running towards you, but you were too blinded by your hurt (and blood). The both of you got another few good hits in until it became what could only be described as a cartoonish scuffle on the ground. It would’ve been comical if not for the blood and damage you’d inflicted upon the other.

“Fuck you, Daryl!!” You screamed. “Ooof!” Daryl had managed to pin you to the ground, holding both of your arms in place. Wiggling and squirming, you used all of your might to attempt to get out of his grip.

Daryl, just as fuelled, looked down at you from above. Time seemed to stop. You looked pained. There was blood pooling over and into your whole left eye. He was sure he looked just as bad, if not, worse. But what made him pause was seeing tears escape and roll down the sides of your face as you cursed and screamed and writhed like a maniac. He barely registered the “fucking get off me!” you hurled at him.

Just as he was about to loosen his grip, two sets of hands pulled him roughly away, two other people doing the same to you.

“That’s ENOUGH!” Rick bellowed. Sasha and Maggie rushed to wave off the circle that had surrounded you.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Carol scolded, shocked. She tried to tend to you, but you pushed her away.

Trying to wipe your face of the blood there, you pointed your finger at him. “You’re such a prick!”

Daryl stayed silent with his signature steely expression, breathing heavily.

“I’m done with your shit! Whatever is fucking bothering you, you better talk, or…or you’re fucking dead to me…” He watched as a lone tear made its way down your cheek. It moved, tracing the underside of your jaw, before trickling off into the depths below.

One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds passed.

You sucked in a sharp breath. He thought he saw disappointment in your expression. Rick, Carol, and Glenn were glancing at each other exasperatedly. They dared not move in case you both started up again.

“Say something for god's sake.”

Daryl’s expression softened, however, his gaze was as piercing as ever. He wiped his nose and winced in pain as his fingers came back bloodied. He didn’t know where to start.

You scoffed. You began to walk back towards the prison.

“I remember tha’ night on tha' farm.” Daryl suddenly declared. Rick glanced over at Daryl with an understanding gaze, and subtly motioned with his head to Carol and Glenn to leave the two of you alone. You however stopped dead in your tracks, your back to him. “I think bout’ it all tha' time.”

You slowly turned to look at him. He was met with your inquisitive, yet fiery gaze.

“What’s your fucking problem then?”

Daryl saw so many pictures flash through his mind. He saw his childhood home burning to ashes, his mother inside. He saw his dad and that leather belt buckle shining in the light of the window. He was reminded of Merle, who left him all alone to bear it all on his own back, literally and figuratively. Suddenly, Merle morphed into his older form, and his insults echoed in his mind. Daryl replayed Merle dying and leaving him for good. He replayed you leaving him.

Daryl’s shoulders sagged a bit. The more he thought about the bad things in his life, the more he was reminded of the good in it. Daryl discovered that in his redemption, Merle had truly loved him. Right now at the prison, he had a found family who cared for him, and would probably die for him. He had you. He was so lucky to have you. He never dared entertain the thought, but you’d probably die for him too. He’s the one who pushed it all away. Daryl didn’t want you to hurt him, and leave him like everyone else did.

So, to answer your question: he was the problem.

After a couple of seconds of contemplation, Daryl spoke quietly, but resolutely.

“Me. Ma’ problem is me.”

“What does that even mean, Daryl? Because I’ve been trying to fix things this whole time, and you keep pushing me away!”

Daryl raised his voice. “We ain't’ ever gon’ be good anyway!”

You observed him for a long moment. You’d had deep conversations with him before. You knew of his past and he knew of yours. You knew he had it rough before the end of the world. But Daryl was a fighter. He kept on, even in hard times. Deep down, he was a shy, compassionate, and in your opinion, mistakenly self-conscious man, the latter of which you attributed to his upbringing. Knowing that you’d gotten so close, just for him to reject everything the two of you went through together made you even more frustrated.

“So you think everything we’ve been through was for nothing then? The way that we were means nothing to you?” With slightly less fire, you added, “The things we’ve done and what you’ve said to me…you never meant any of it?”

You could see Daryl struggling to bare himself completely. But when he looked up and into your pleading eyes, you saw the last of his defences crumble away. His next words were almost whispered in the wind.

“I meant it. And I still mean it.”

“Then why have you been so unfair?”

“‘Cause ya just gon’ end up leavin’ me!” He admitted. Daryl abruptly moved so he was in front of you. In your periphery, you saw him raise his hand, but he moved it back down to his side again, seemingly thinking against whatever he was going to do.

It was all so real now. Daryl pushed through his combativeness. This time, he did reach a hand up to your face, and ever so tenderly wiped the blood out of your eye from under your brow. You held back a flinch. Daryl caught it. However, he spoke his words so gently you would have never guessed that the two of you were involved in something so violent mere minutes before.

Looking at the damage he’d caused, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. It only spurred on his thoughts of the previous night. “I won’ ever deserve ya’ anyways with how I’ve treated ya’. You’ll be better off with Rick or some other guy —”

You shook your head in disagreement.

“How could you have ever thought that I wanted to be around someone else? Has it not been clear this whole time how much I...like you?”

Daryl began biting his lip anxiously. It was clear to him, but deep down he refused to believe the extent to which you did.

“I appreciate you so much, Daryl! That’s why this whole thing’s been killing me! To have someone hurt me so much when things were so good…” He felt your head slowly shake against his hand. You inhaled deeply. “I’ve never hit anyone like that before. You just...you made me so fucking angry!” You abruptly grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand away from your face, taking a step back. He saw a hurt flash in your eyes again. “How dare you just insinuate that I’m what? A slut? That I’m sleeping around?” You were pacing now. “What business is it of yours anyway?” You sassed. “You’ve been so dismissive and rude that you shouldn’t even —”

“Goddamnit woman!” Daryl exclaimed. Surprisingly, he managed to stop you in your tracks, your mouth shutting with a clink of your teeth. “I’m scared alrigh’! I’m scared that I’m gon’ mess you up! That I’ll never be good enough fer ya’...I’m…I’m scared that somehow, somethin’s gon’ happen to ya’, or somehow, ya’ gon’ be taken from ma’ life like everyone else...”

For once, you were the one with nothing to say.

All Daryl wanted to do at that moment was give in to his desire for closeness. His desire for your touch once again. But he was still in the grips of insecurity. “And cause’ I’ve been such an asshole, ya’ve moved on and I don’ blame ya’. A-And seeing ya’ with other people…I ain't ever gonna be worth your time…”

“Are you seriously telling me that you’re not good enough for me? Daryl, if anything…never in my wildest dreams could I have conjured up a man as good as you in my own life.”

Etched into his face was still disbelief in your words. How many times did you need to tell him?

“No matter how much you infuriate me and piss me off,” you started, “No matter how things are between us, I’m never going to leave you. Ever.”

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat as he listened. He struggled to process the weight of your words.

“Nah, nah...I don’ think ya’ —”

“I'm fuckin' in love with you Daryl!” You yelled. “Is that blatant enough? Do you get it now?”

All he could do was look at you. Even all bruised and bloodied, even with your dishevelled hair and stressed demeanour, you were the most beautiful thing to him at that moment. Your eyes began to well up with tears. Your voice broke when you spoke next.

“So just please tell me if you want this to end, because I can’t do this back and forth anymore —”

Daryl purposefully strode over to you, and cut you off by grabbing your face, giving your lips a very chaste kiss. It took a couple of seconds for you to realise what was happening. When you did, your body moved into his, and you placed your hands on his sides, slowly snaking them around his back.

This kiss became more intense. More desperate. So much more emotion and feeling was expressed in this melding of your mouths. You both had been away from each other for so long, that once you touched again, it was like you became addicted.

“Mmmm…” you moaned against his lips.

Before it could get too hot and heavy, Daryl breathlessly pulled away. Still cupping your face, he looked directly into your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I didn’t sort ma’ shit out. That I caused ya’ so much pain.”

“I’m sorry too…”

“Nah…it’s ma’ fault. And ya’ still stuck around. This whole time...ya stuck around...”

You both caught your breath, staring into each other’s eyes. You missed looking into those circles of blue. You missed this feeling.

“I love ya’ Y/N. I always will.”

You ducked your head and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. He chased yours until both of your mouths were granting the other entry. This time, the kiss wasn’t as rough, but it was just as intense, if not even more passionate. All you could hear were the wet sounds of your tongues tasting each other. Your hand moved from his back to his shoulders, feeling the rippling muscle there.

One of Daryl’s hands moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss still. His other made its way across your shoulder to your waist, which he gave a loving squeeze. It was like now that you’d come together again, you just couldn’t stop.

Your little bubble of heated desire was interrupted by the sounds of…squealing?

Roughly breaking apart from each other, you looked to Daryl who seemingly thought the same thing you did. Still gripping onto each other's bodies, you both turned your heads towards the commotion and immediately flushed with embarrassment.

Your main family stood not too far away, hollering like idiots. There were a bunch of kids screaming, but excitedly. You were certain that you’d scared them with your brawl earlier. Now they seemed joyous. Most of the people from Woodbury just stood around and stared in shock.

You looked down shyly and softly pushed Daryl’s body away from yours. “Asshole…” He was back to chewing his thumbnail. Some of the two things you both had in common was your stubbornness and your hate of being the centre of attention. Especially like this.

“Finally…ain’t that a sight for sore eyes…” Rick mused.

Carol was still a bit dazed at her two best friends beating each other up. “Leave it to them to sort it out with their fists…”

“They did more than sort it out! ” Beth laughed.

Daryl removed his thumb from his mouth. “You might wanna get ya’ eye checked out...” he grunted, nodding to the bruising around it.

“You might want to get your nose set back into place.” You retorted.

For the first time in a long time, you heard one of your favourite sounds. A deep rumble escaped from Daryl’s chest. His laughter was the most beautiful music to your ears.

You beamed at him, unable to hide your admiration.

Today may have been shitty. You may have been bruised, battered and sore. Daryl equally so. But this moment right now wasn’t just good.

It was brilliant.

*I DO NOT give permission for my work to be used/adapted/copied in any way.*

#daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #daryl twd #twd #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #twd fanfics #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead x y/n

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 1 year ago

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Cloudy Christmastime

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Before anyone protests, I headcanon the Wayne family as celebrating both Jewish holidays like Yom Kippur and Hanukkah as well as Christmas and Easter because yes, Bruce is ethnically Jewish (though may have done Christmas as well) but Dick/Jason/Tim/Steph would have likely celebrated Christmas. So they do both.

Anyway, this is a christmas gift for @glorified-red and literally the 5th take on this fic bc they first said Hallmark movie, then damijon hallmark movie, then whump. And then it took me three tries to get something I was close to happy with so I hope you enjoy. This ended up being a mix of domestic fluff and h/c.

warnings: sensory overload

wc: ~2600

“Tell me again why Santa doesn’t bring us gifts if he’s real. Like our dads have met him. And he still doesn’t bring us presents,” Jon lamented from the couch, bundled up in four blankets.

From your spot on the floor by the tree, you looked up, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Because we’re not kids anymore? And how do you know Santa ever brought us gifts?”

“Perhaps,” Damian added, passing Jon a cup of hot chocolate. He placed a second cup on the coffee table and lifted one to his lips. “He only brought gifts to people to make a point. I never received any from him as a child but father has gotten many over the years.”

Jon listed to the side, head landing on Damian’s shoulder. “I think that’s worse.”

For the first time in a while, Jon felt Damian’s huff of laughter more than he heard it. Your small chuckle was similarly inaudible. Jon hated solar flaring. Not only was it a pain to deal with for the day and change—one could argue he got either lucky or really unlucky by solar flaring the morning of Christmas Eve—but it always threw his senses out of whack as they trickled back in. And, with the gray skies of Gotham’s winter, Jon was expecting it to be even weirder than usual. It was worth it though, to him, in order to spend the day itself with his partners. It was enough that the Kent family Christmas Eve was ruined by Lex Luthor. He wasn’t going to let his Christmas day be ruined too.

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” you offered with a shrug and a smile. Jon met your grin with his own. A full-body shiver wracked his frame. Your gaze turned concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, “Just chilly.” Damian’s arm wrapped further around Jon, pulling their sides flush against each other. Jon maneuvered the blankets away to soak in his warmth.

“Ameli, we can turn the heat up,” Damian offered.

“Nope,” Jon argued, nuzzling into Damian’s neck. “This is good.” Damian’s resulting huff of air teased at the hair on the top of Jon’s head.

“Mi luna?” You asked from the floor. Damian turned to look at you. Jon followed, eyes traveling over the mound of presents arranged under the tree. There was a pile around the back of the tree against the wall for Damian’s family (Jon still needed to give Dick his gift from the Hanukkah celebration a couple weeks ago. The blue dreidel paper was obvious against the sea of brown, red, and green wrapping paper.), and a smaller one for yours. The empty gap left behind after the Kent Christmas was already filled in with a large box Jon was like ninety percent sure was a new easel for Damian. You ordered it, not him, but Jon couldn’t think of anything else on any of your lists that was even close to that size. “Can you hand me that please?” You gestured to a precarious stack on the coffee table.

Damian acquiesced, passing over a teetering pile of vaguely book-shaped items. Who those were for was anyone’s guess. Jon was grateful Alfred had helped you and him pay for some of the gifts for Damian. Looking at the gift tags, it otherwise would have been horribly uneven. And Damian himself wouldn’t have minded, Jon knew, but you and him would have been upset about it anyway. He deserves the world, your rohi. Damian pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you, still arranging presents under the tree. He showed it quickly to Jon before texting it to him immediately.

“This look okay?” You asked, peeking out from behind the tree. Jon looked it over. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly, but he also wasn’t exactly the reigning opinion on artistic presentation.

“It looks fine, hayati” Damian said, eyes still trained on his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You didn't even look.”

Damian turned to look at you. “Because I knew it looked fine, beloved.” His eyes scanned the presents. “And it does.”

You shook your head at him, exasperated, before conceding and sitting heavily on the couch. Scooching in, you nearly pressed up against Jon’s other side.

“Come closer,” He whined, untangling a hand from the blankets to grab yours. “You’re warm.”

Jon could feel the look exchanged over his head.

“I’m not that warm,” you argued even as you grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and arranged the blankets so that you could fit underneath. “You’re just cold.”

Jon shrugged. The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached underneath Damian’s shirt and he swore, grabbing Jon’s wrist to keep its chill away. Another look passed over Jon’s head. He wondered sometimes if the two of you were aware he knew what you were doing and just didn’t care. Probably.

“Are you sure you’re okay, amorcito?” You asked. Jon shrugged.

“It’s cold outside and I’m human but otherwise yeah. I have you two,” he added smugly. Damian’s playful shoulder hit came at the same time as your muttered “sap.” Jon grinned. “So because I’m sick—sort of—I get to pick the movie. And we’re watching Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Despite the protests on both sides, the movie was playing before Damian could even get up to turn the lights off. To the side of the couch, the lights on the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft white glow.

Jon awoke to a cold bed. On a good day, he’d wake with the sun—or whenever it wormed its way through the bedroom’s black out curtains—or to an international emergency. Okay, not that the emergency was good, just that he was feeling good enough to know it was happening. On a bad day, all bets were off. Jon stuck his hand out of the covers, searching blindly for his phone. After a moment of finding nothing but the wood of the end table, the scratchiness of the sheets was unignorable and he gave up, flinging back the covers to get out of bed. Hanging over the side of the dresser was a dark red sweatshirt. Jon grabbed it and tugged it on, rubbing his arms to get the lingering echo of the sheets off his skin. His off kilter super hearing zeroed in on the crooning of Michael Bublé before zooming back out into the general background noise coming from the kitchen. Jon winced, squaring his shoulders. That was a bad sign. But it was Christmas; he’d be fine.

A quick squint at his phone told Jon that it was just after noon. No wonder the bed was cold. Jon shivered, then grabbed a pair of your fuzzy socks before opening the bedroom door.

The smell of cinnamon and chocolate coming from the kitchen was pleasant rather than unbearable. Jon let himself breathe it in as he approached quietly. He didn’t even notice you behind him—though that was often true of an average day—before there were arms around his waist and a head on his shoulder. He let himself lean back into the warmth of you.

“Merry Christmas, mi amor. How are you feeling?” you inquired. Hot breath ghosted across his neck. Jon shrugged.

“Fine. Excited for today.” He spun around to face you, eyes taking in your christmas pj pants and sweater with a Robin logo. Over your shoulder, Jon could see flashes of blue, likely Damian’s nightwing sweatshirt. “Merry Christmas,” he added, tucking his nose into the spot just underneath your ear for just a moment. No matter what his super senses were like, he took comfort in the smell of the two of you. A hand weaved through his hair, a kiss pressed to the top of his head. Jon pulled back just enough to give you a peck on the lips before being spun around into a kiss from Damian.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Jon muttered, pressing a second lingering kiss to Damian’s jawline. A steady heartbeat pulsed under his fingers, wrapped around Damian’s wrist.

“Good morning,” Damian said, wrapping an arm around Jon to keep him close. Jon blindly reached out and a second calloused hand found his. A second warm body curled around him. He missed your heartbeats’ song in his ears, but Damian’s pounding steadily under his ear and yours fluttering underneath his fingertips was good enough for right then. “Are you alright?” Damian continued. “It’s late.” His voice was echoey underneath Jon’s ear and Jon flinched instinctively. The two of you reacted immediately, pulling back.

“Jon?” you asked, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah,” he managed. “I’m mostly good. About as expected, you know?” Jon offered up a smile. By the looks on your faces, it didn’t do as much reassurance as he’d hoped. “I’m sorry I slept so late.”

“Don’t apologize,” Damian argued. “There is no reason to.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jon sighed.

“How are you feeling about breakfast, mi sol?” You asked, tangling your fingers with his.

“Sounds good,” Jon agreed.

“Oh yeah I should definitely send Dick a text to thank him. And also say Merry Christmas,” Jon said, flopping down on the couch after breakfast. With his partners looking happy, Christmas music in the background, and a breakfast of vegan pancakes in his stomach, Jon could almost forget about the buzzing under his skin.

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “He would have swapped with me anyway. Gordon and Father are both working tonight so it was pointless for him to have the evening off.”

Jon shrugged. “Still, doesn’t hurt to say thanks.”

“Say hi from me too,” you yelled over the running kitchen sink. After a moment more, the water shut off and Jon released a silent sigh at the absence of an irritating bit of noise. He was lucky the x-ray vision hadn’t started acting up. Not only was that like the antithesis of Christmas presents (his mom kept presents out of the house or in a lead box until morning for that very reason), but it was also a huge pain and the hardest to hide. Screwy touch and hearing was more than enough. Dishware clanked around in the kitchen as Damian sat beside Jon on the couch.

“No change?” He asked, reaching for a Nightwing mug of cider on the coffee table.

Jon shrugged. “Nope, nothing yet.” Damian narrowed his eyes and Jon attempted to start coming up with excuses. At the very least, he could probably get Damian to leave it alone until after gifts. Less so if you noticed too and started teaming up on him.

“Ready for presents?” You asked, sitting down on the other side of Damian. You raised the untouched Superman mug to your lips, eyes scanning over Jon.

“Yes!” Jon butt in before you could say anything. “Let’s do it.”

You and Damian exchanged a look. On the floor below, the elevator dinged, releasing a family with a horde of kids. “Okay,” you conceded, standing to grab the first load of presents.

In the apartment directly underneath, the front door squealed open. A load of presents was slammed down on the floor beside him. Three kids squealed “gramma!” in unison. Jon’s hoodie was all of the sudden suffocating him.

Jon jumped up and yanked the sweatshirt over his head, pawing the sleeves off before yanking his socks off too. He didn’t care where they ended up. His hands went up to press against his ears. Stumbling over his own feet, Jon meandered backwards until his back slammed into a wall and then slid down, knees up and head with ears still covered in between them. Sounds zoomed in and out. All of the sudden, he could hear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer playing eight floors down, then A Christmas Carol on someone’s TV across the street. Focus! Jon yelled at himself through all the noise. One steady beat came into focus, then another.

Until there was a soft item brushing his feet, Jon didn’t realize he had company. A steady beat pulsed in his ears, too loud even for its familiarity. He pulled the blanket close. Something plastic nudged his shoulder and Jon grabbed it instinctively, slamming special-made headphones over his ears. The sounds faded down into something manageable. Jon took a deep breath. And then another. He didn’t need to hear to know that the two of you were there. When he reached out tentatively with his sense of smell, the usual wave of cinnamon-vanilla-brown sugar-clove and somethings just the two of you tempered by pine and peppermint was comforting rather than overwhelming. Jon let it wash over him, clutching the soft weighted blanket to his chest.

When he cracked his eyes open, two blurs blinked into focus as his partners, leaning against the back of the couch and hands linked. Damian’s head rested on your shoulder, one of your hands tangled in his hair. Jon noticed as soon as Damian saw he was up. He almost slammed his head into your chin as he shot up and Jon huffed a laugh.

“Ameli?” Damian asked. Your eyes locked onto Jon’s.

“You guys shouldn’t sit on the floor,” Jon responded. “It’s bad for your backs.”

You offered Jon a hand, ignoring his remark completely. Jon’s chest ached. If you weren’t willing to banter, he’d scared you. “How are you feeling?”

Jon took the hand and stood, adjusting the headphones so they stayed on his head. He tossed the blanket over his shoulder and reached his other hand out towards Damian before tugging the both of you up and towards the couch.

“I’m okay,” Jon reassured you, sitting down on the couch. “I promise.” When neither of you moved, he tugged you both down on top of him, interrupting the bat-assessment written all over Damian’s face.

“Promise like this morning?” Damian argued. Jon winced.

“Okay, yeah maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Been a self-sacrificial dumbass as if we don’t a) know you and b) want you to talk to us?” You cut in. Jon could read the hurt underneath the anger clear as day. His fingers brushed over two sets of knuckles, one scarred from years of fighting without protective gear, the other dry from the winter air.

“I know. I just wanted today to be a good day, you know? We never get uninterrupted holidays.” Jon resisted the urge to pull his hands away from yours and curl into himself. The two burning gazes on him were ones of love and concern, though, not judgment.

“And for some reason you think accommodating you makes the day worse, why?” Damian asked. Jon didn’t have an answer.

“We love you, Jon. Eres nuestro pareja. We picked ‘partners’ for a reason, yeah?” You squeezed his hand in yours.

“Yeah,” he agreed, head dropping to your shoulder. Silence was heavy in the room for a moment.

“You choose what we do next,” Damian stated, tugging the blacket from its bundled blob to instead cover you and Jon.

Jon moved from your shoulder to halfway on top of Damian, tugging you on top of him. “You guys are going to squish me in between you while we watch a movie and then we can do presents?”

You shot him a wicked smile. Jon shrieked as Damian pulled him bodily half on top of him along the couch, cut off when you landed nearly on top of Jon.

“Good?” You asked. Jon let himself sink into Damian, arms coming up to wrap around your waist.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.”

Damian grabbed the remote. “We’re not watching Elf.”

Jon stuck his tongue out at him.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent x reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent x gender neutral reader #emerson writes sometimes

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simslegacy5083 · 3 months ago

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Today's (10/28/2024) Episode: Game, Developed

After Noemi and Luigi helped Skye deal with his new diagnoses it was finally time for them to celebrate a big personal milestone of their own.

“Well today’s the day, are you ready?” Noemi asked her husband “Honestly, yes and no” he replied, “its amazing to think that this dream of mine is coming true, but I’m terrified that its going to be a flop. I’d hate to go down in history as a failure.” Especially considering what I sacrificed to get here he thought to himself, gently making a fist under the table with his “bum” right hand.

“I highly doubt its going to fail” she said “I know I’m biased but, seriously, Watcher Tales is good. Now let’s go get ready for the launch party!”

“What should I wear!?” Luigi mused nervously as they entered the bedroom “I want to look professional, but grounded, put together but not overdressed. It’s tough.”

Noemi bit her tongue to keep from laughing. She walked up behind him and placed a hand firmly on his lower back. “I can help you find the perfect outfit” she whispered in his ear, “but before we get you dressed up, maybe getting undressed would help calm both our nerves…”

Luigi pulled her in, surrendering to her hungry kisses. It wasn’t the best woohoo they’d ever had, but when they emerged a few minutes later he couldn’t deny he was feeling calmer “Now my butt is sore” he groused, grinning “but it was totally worth it. Let’s do this thing!”

The Watcher Tales launch party was being held in Del Sol Valley and sponsored by UnorthoBox, one of the largest gaming console manufacturers in the nation. The game would be launching for both PC and, exclusively, on the new UnorthoBox 2 gaming system for console.

Exiting the teleporter just outside the conference center where the event was being held Luigi fired up Yoshi to capture some footage of the launch party. Grabbing Noemi’s hand, he took a deep breath and headed inside where his friends, family, and fans were all eagerly awaiting their arrival.

Luigi took his place in front of a wall of pictures featuring high-res images captured from the game itself, while Noemi settled nearby at a small table offering hard copies and digital codes of Watcher Tales for purchase.

Luigi was in his element, his natural cheerful enthusiasm on full display as talked up his “masterpiece”. He kept Noemi busy, sending a constant stream of fans and gamers to her table to buy first release copies of their game.

Luigi and his wife weren’t the only ones working hard to make the launch party a raging success.

Rather than hiring an unknown sim of questionable skill to man the bar Luigi had asked his grandpa Don to do the honors, and he’d gladly agreed.

Nearby Denton and Cullen were streaming a demonstration of Watcher Tales primary multiplayer features to their fans. Across the room a long rows of PCs had been setup, giving sims attending the release party a chance to “try before you buy”. Many of Luigi’s friends and family had settled there to show their support and see the game he couldn’t stop talking about.

Noemi was thrilled with how quickly copies of the game were selling, but as the afternoon wore on, she found herself feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Shutting her eyes for a moment in between customers, she suddenly heard the familiar and oh so welcome voice of her friend Amaya. “How you holding up pretty momma? The girls and I just arrived, and our kids are out back playing with your little one.”

“Honestly, I could use a break” Noemi told her. “The launch is going great, but this crowd is a bit too much for me.”

“Say no more!” Amaya replied, gesturing for her to rise “I sell nectar from the ranch every weekend at the market in Eco Harbor; I can handle hocking Hot Stuff’s pride and joy for a bit. Go give your boy a kiss and say hello to the ladies.” Noemi sighed with relief, heading out to sunny, quiet, playground.

Luigi merely chuckled when he noticed that his old flame had relieved his wife at the sales table. The meet and greet line shut down shortly after that and when one of his favorite songs started playing on the stereo system Luigi decided to give his fans a little show to thank them for coming.

“My fellow gamers” he announced “you inspired Watcher Tales, and your support means the world. I hope you’ll help me end this party in style!”

He found a small patch of open floor and began an impromptu dance party, gesturing for everyone to join him. As he danced along with the other happy sims celebrating the game’s launch, he silently hoped he’d find as much success as he’d enjoyed that day in the days to come.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

#sims 4 #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims4 #sims 4 nsb #sims 4 not so berry #sims4nsbstraud #sims 4 let's play #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 lets play

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allaboutthems · 1 year ago

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Mellodramattic Sims 4 Ideas

So, when I finally save enough money to buy a gaming PC and some Sims games, here are some ideas I have for the M's (@janaverse, this one's for you!):

Apartment in San Myshuno. I'm thinking at the ZenView. (And I'm going to use Move Objects On to shift the building over and give them and anyone else who lives at the building access to a pool.)

Basemental Drugs, so Matt can have his cigarettes and weed. Mello will also get the Seconhand Smoke Immunity trait from the rewards store.

Mello will take a career as a writer. Matt will be a pro-gamer.

They'll have a science baby together. And there's a mod that lets your Sims experience pregnancy with a science baby, instead of just rabbitholing down to the fertility clinic and coming back with a baby. So, yes, Mello's getting pregnant! And I'm going to aim for a girl, so I'll have him chow down on strawberries and listen to pop music the whole time.

WickedWhims is a must. Using the sexual orientation setting, Matt will be set to bisexual, and Mello will be set to gay.

After they have their science baby, they'll get married. Just a simple beach elopement in Sulani. (Because realistically, they'd elope; they don't have any family, and don't really have a lot of friends.) And they're spending their honeymoon there, too.

They're getting a black cat.

Matt stupidly takes on Greg and contracts werebies while visiting Lake Lunvik. Luckily, he gets a cure.

They'll meet the Simself I'm putting in San Myshuno. (I'm doing multiple Simselves for different worlds.)

Woohooing in space at GeekCon.

Woohooing in the dumpster.

Woohooing in a woohoo bush.

Woohooing in the closet.

Woohooing in the shower.

Woohooing in bed.

Woohooing in a photobooth.

Woohooing at the Copperdale Carnival.

Woohooing on Batuu.

Woohooing in the waterfall in Sulani.

Woohooing in the lighthouse at Brindleton Bay.

Using the Rambunctious Religions mod to make Mello a Worshipper of the Watcher, and Matt part of the Congregation of Nonbelievers.

Using the Stand to Pee mod so they'll autonomously pee standing up more often.

Using the Don't Wash Dishes Where You Angry Poop mod to keep them from washing dishes in the bathroom when their dishwasher's busy.

Getting Crumplebottomed in Henford-On-Bagley at the farmer's market there. (It's not their fault! Some of those vegetables were giving them Ideas!)

Both finding themselves attracted to vampire hottie Caleb. Maybe in Forgotten Hollow, but honestly, they don't really need to go there 'cause Caleb's kinda everywhere. (Taking full advantage of that sunlight immunity he comes equipped with!) So he'll pop up in San Myshuno or wherever else eventually. (Or, worst case scenario, I take matters into my own hands, load up his household, and have him visit the M's and use his Alluring Visage ability.) Will he unwittingly drive a wedge between them temporarily, or will they bond over both agreeing that he's hot AF? I haven't decided yet.

Meeting a celebrity in Del Sol Valley. Or, you know, just moseying down the street in Willow Creek, because celebrities totally do that.

Growing cacao in a planter on the balcony.

Celebrating all the holidays together.

Taking a trip to Selvadorada together.

Playing chess together.

Working on the Strangerville Mystery together, and defeating the Mother Plant. Who will they choose to help them? I haven't decided yet.

Matt, flirting with pretty mermaids in Sulani. Mello getting jealous. Matt makes it up to him, though.

Renewing their vows at the Love Festival in San Myshuno.

I haven't decided whether I want to enable aging and watch them grow old together, or disable aging (beyond manually aging up their kid) so I can play with them forever.

Turning Neighborhood Stories TF off, because that messes everything up. I'm not about to let some stupid AI break them up, or move them to a new neighborhood, or give them too many pets and/or adopted babies just because I played with other Sims.

Visiting the Sylvan Glade and/or the Forgotten Grotto.

Mello taking lots of baths with soaks, because he gets a lot of moodlets from the "High Maintenance" trait.

Going skinnydipping together.

Matt, pursuing the hidden Grilled Cheese aspiration. One of the tasks is to talk to the Grim Reaper about grilled cheese. For that, I'll find a premade Sim I don't like very much, or a random townie, cheat them dead, and then have Matt talk to Ol' Grim about grilled cheese.

Clicking on them to use "Be Gross" interactions a lot and/or having them cook Franks N' Beans. Especially Matt. Because they're just that comfortable with each other. *fart*

Got any more ideas for the M's in TS4? Let me know!

#simblr #matt x mello #sims ideas #mellodramattic #mihael keehl #mail jeevas #greggorius lunvik #caleb vatore #agnes crumplebottom #mpreg cw

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sergeifyodorov · 1 year ago

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re: ur thoughts on the current trending hockeyblr/ao3 ship and how objectively wild it is that it Is What It Is. what current ships would you nominate in its place? noah fence to sidgeno … but which Classic Teammates In Love HRPF Ships do you think should take over for them? or like, which ships are you surprised AREN'T as popular as oiler/flame-who-isn't-even-still-a-flame?

hskdfjdks okay hm... my super totally unbiased opinions are about to be put into this world... blast me if you will etc

teammates in love ships that should be more popular

sid/letang. i know we're all into the arranged marriage aesthetic of sidgeno and we don't care about "defencemen" in this house but . kris letang is right there... he's a hot girl... he's a bad bitch... he's a supernaturally intense freak which means he and sid could get it on in such wild ways... and most importantly he's quebecois we need more francophone representation in our hockey rpf

steven stamkos/victor hedman. fundamentally we are not taking advantage of wily fox steve stamkos and Giant Conn Smythe Winning Sequoia Tree Victor Hedman who are right there.. they endured so much pain 2gether before winning their cups... they're besties... etc. look at that gifset of heddy lifting the cup over his head and tenderly kissing golden-haired stevie who's hugging him like he built the world. know what i know.

quinn hughes/elias pettersson. they were ROOMMATES ON THE ROAD they are DESIGNATED SAVIOURS OF VANCOUVER together quinn is bedraggled and practical and petey is bald and cunty. i know they're young but if petey sticks around... yknow. it'll get there. with your help etc etc

matthew tkachuk/sasha barkov. i agree i get it machuk is interesting he's an interesting fic character. sasha is right there... he loves him....

other ships that should be more popular

sid/ovi. they're both inchresting characters they're both extremely old men with lots of history they had to go through each other to win the cup EVERY TIME THEY DID IT...

geno/ovi along the same lines. actually my opinion of ovi is that he's a fascinating character ficwise all around... enigmatic, charismatic,,, i don't understand nicke backstrom which is the biggest reason nickeovi isn't on the first list. but sid/geno/ovi is nightmare threesome material and we should talk about it

not a Specific ship per se but we need usntdp fics of the generation BEFORE jhughes/zegras/caufield. i want something that compels you to draw a jeichel/auston/machuk/clay keller web so complicated you need to full-on Pepe Silvia in order to understand it.

jack hughes/nico hischier but specifically me and sol spiceberrie's vision of it

also not a specific ship but Guy That Sucks fic. the good old homosexual self-loathing spiral... yes... Yes... dont do it with machuk though he's too emotionally intelligent. needs to be a total bad-vibes mirror-staring cut-shaving don't-know-how-to-cry situation.

here's MY one-interaction-that-i'll-never-get-away-from enemies to lovers fic that makes no sense: auston matthews/rasmus dahlin. there's one (1) fic in the ship tag and i wrote it. my claim to rarepair fame...

#asks #1634 and mcdrai are good candidates too but i'm trying to nominate some less examined stuff #guys. guys we literally have like 1000 characters to choose from... even if you only focus on ppl who will be established nhlers for a whil #that's like 200 characters. there's lore the depth of which not one of us alone can comprehend #also 1991 and stevie y/shanny for the first category but active players are easiest to talk about skdjfskhdf #peace and love. let us all expand our horizons.

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gwynbleiddyn · 2 months ago

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for the Rook Q's: 2, 7, 22, and 47 for little Kerros :)

from fifty questions for Rook!

for itty bitty baby boy Kerros let's go

2. How did Rook get the nickname? What do they think of it?

well i technically answered that here but i forgot to say what he thought of it SO I'LL DO THAT

Kerros likes it! it's an old, reassuring thing for him -- like when you get a special nickname from a close family friend or uncle/auntie, you feel acknowledged for your unique bond with that person that resulted in that name, and it's really nice. a little hug every time they call your name, a gentle keepsake you have no fear of losing. at least, that's how it feels coming from Varric!

the wider use of it since then sometimes throws Kerros off. he still answers to Kerros, Kesi, Kes, the things his father called him, the things his clan called him, things that were never Rook. but in a way, it's like his real name is being protected from this big scary end-of-the-world responsibility, he can just be Rook to anyone and everyone, and then 'Kerros' will never be ruined by a legacy he has yet to leave behind.

Varric is a storyteller after all. it makes sense that he knows the power of a name and its associations. maybe introducing Kerros as Rook to the Veilguard was less a force of old habit, and more an intentional device to protect him from the part of the story he hadn't written yet. i like to think of it that way, knowing how much he cares for Kerros and Rion both. a writer's gift, in part, is to preserve a subject in words far beyond the span of its lifetime.

7. Why does Rook agree to join the Veilguard?

it does feel fated that the Inquisitor hands the safety of the world to his son, as though it were a hereditary privilege in the same way the divine right of kings is often touted. but i think Kerros avoids the word 'fate' -- as far as the Lords of Fortune and Clan Severan are concerned, you make your own. it forms part of Kerros' anger towards Solas; he feels Solas' choices have taken his father's freedom to choose how his life should unwind, and that he now must spend his dying years trying to fix a mess that can't be undone.

and yeah, perhaps Kerros is oblivious to the hypocrisy in his anger, but i think most would be when it comes to facing the reality of your loved one's lifetime coming to an end in a way they don't deserve. and even more importantly, this was never something handed to Kerros. if anything, Kerros had to pry it out of his father's hands. it isn't quite daedalus granting icarus his wings, but i suppose you could draw the connection. it is an ill-fated thing, to those with sense, and the doom seems less a lurker in the deep and more a hungry dragon waiting with its jaws wide open.

but hey, good thing Kerros isn't a man of fate, right? all he cares about is that he puts the world to rights - and yes, it's partly because he wants his father to be at peace when he dies, why wouldn't it be? but he's in it for himself too. he's got to live in this world, and he sure as shit doesn't want to live in it with the gods running around.

22. Most embarrassing memory as a teenager:

thinking he was hot shit for smuggling a small crate of rum for a small gang of friends. he pilfered it from his grandad's stash, first of all -- rookie mistake, given grandpa Amrun is what one might call a well-salted sea captain -- and second of all, he was convinced his heist would land him a reputation of being cool as fuck amongst his fellow teenage delinquents.

technically it did work, but he got caught red-handed seeing as he couldn't handle his first foray into alcohol very well and wound up sick as a dog in the neighbour's garden. Cullen had to fish him out of Old Lady Sol's parched rosemary shrubs in the wee hours of the following morning, along with a very suspect bottle. Amrun was furious, if ever so slightly amused, and Kerros ended up scrubbing decks for weeks. but it also sowed the very first seeds of his eventual emergence into the Lords of Fortune a few short years later.

47. What’s Rook’s temper like?

you know, i'm not so sure 👀i don't think he's brash and hotheaded, but i do think he has a tendency to be a little snappy when he's irritated. he just kinda spits and bubbles away like an unwatched pot on the stove, but he's easy enough to calm down. like one of those little dogs that just goes rarghraghhh until you put their little jackets on or something

i think genuine anger for Kerros - usually that kind so closely intertwined with his pre-emptive grief that it's hard to discern which is which, for the record - is a lot quieter and more insidious.

#c: kerros severan-laidir #da veilguard #da rook #THESE GAVE ME BRAINWORMS thanks #10/10 selection

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thexbclter · 4 months ago

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⸻ ( taylor russell, 30, demi woman, they/she ) — look who it is! if you take a look at our database, you’ll find that SERENITY FIELDS is a a TEXTILE WORKER that works in SECTOR 8. according to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of SNAKE PHYSIOLOGY . that must be why they’re SUBDUED and SPITEFUL. if you ask me, they remind me of the hiss of a playful riddle dancing on the end of a forked tongue, small scaled hands working a sewing machine, big black eyes watching carefully from a distance. they are affiliated with NOBODY.

CHARACTER NAME. serenity fields.

NICKNAMES. renity (foster mom only).

FACECLAIM. taylor russell.

MUTATION STATUS. gen ii mutant.

BIRTHDAY. january 16th.

SEXUALITY. pansexual, panromantic.

MORAL ALIGNMENT. true neutral.

OCCUPATION. textile worker.

WORK SECTOR. eight.

AFFILIATION. none.

POSITIVE TRAITS. logical, honest, subdued.

NEGATIVE TRAITS. critical, competitive, spiteful.

inspired by cyan sung-sun (bleach), wednesday addams (addams family), raven (teen titans), medusa (greek mythology), maleficent (sleeping beauty).

questionnaire:

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement? they have always lived in sol city. since they could remember. she has no true desire to leave sol city. she is comfortable here... even with the flaws it could always be worse elsewhere.

do they trust the council's leadership? why or why not? yes and no. while she believes an elected council is a good idea she is aware that their is evil in most all people and that power can corrupt even the kindest hearts. she doesn't always agree with everything they do but she understands their role in society.

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn't, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not? while textile was not her first choice... she really hadn't had one. she was assigned the role after not being able (and not wanting to) choose for herself.. and she is content working in the factory making clothing and other basic items for others.

what's one object that they always keep on their person? she has always kept a special stone that was from her biological mother's necklace she wore.

what is your character's ability (or abilities)? snake physiology.

are they gen i or gen ii? gen ii.

what can your character do? what are their strengths? while she has a forked tongue, black eyes, and spots of scales she has only fully transformed into a snake once. her powers are spotty when it comes to shifting. so, for the most part she only has the abilities of a snake in a humanlike form. she has crushing strength, poisonous retracting fangs, and agility.

what can't they do? what are their weaknesses? she can’t get too cold. much like a snake her energy is drained when in the cold for too long. she also is hard of hearing like most snakes in the wild. that’s why working in a textile mill works for her. it’s hot and loud.

is there anything else you'd like to specify about them? not at the moment. but this may change in the future.

#armatask #ch. serenity fields.#intro post.

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del-sol-diminutives · 1 year ago

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The Big Lemonade Stand Scoop!

Porto del Sol’s summers are always hot and sunny. This summer, Huey Seabreeze and Muddy McBurrows concocted a plan both cool and delicious. Lemonade!

“Now you boys have everything you need, don’t you? Extra cups and lemons and —“ asked Heidi McBurrows.

“Yes, Mom! We’re all ready to go.” The boys had been planning for days over the McBurrows’ coffee table, from borrowing and decorating the cart to testing lemonade recipes until they both had one they agreed on.

“All right, sweetie. You two have a good time.”

“Thanks, Mom!”

“Thanks, Mrs. McBurrows! We’ll do our best!”

The first to arrive at their little stand was the town mayor, Lionel Grand, and his son Lawrence.

“Well, boys, what’s all this?” Lionel asked, examining their stand with great interest.

“Lemonade, Daddy! Can we have some? Please?” Lawrence asked shyly, burrowing into his father’s side.

“I think we can, if these fine young men will sell us some.”

“Of course, Mr. Grand!” Muddy passed out the cups that Huey poured.

“Please enjoy them, sir!” Huey gulped nervously. Their first customer was the mayor? This was make-or-break!

“This is delicious, isn’t it, Lawrence?” Lionel asked.

“Oh yes, Daddy! It’s really yummy! And nice and sweet on a hot day like today.”

“Well, thank you, gentlemen,” said Lionel. “We’ll be sure to tell everyone we meet today how wonderful your lemonade is.”

“Thank you, sir!” both boys exclaimed, and waved as their first customers headed into town.

“That was sure nice of him,” Muddy mused aloud.

“It was!” Huey said, wiping down the cart. He glanced back up, and his eyes widened. “Oh boy. Muddy, look!”

The mayor certainly had made good on his promise to tell people. Within minutes, the boys had a line that wrapped around their cart and continued down the riverbank. Everyone from town seemed to have decided to come out for a treat!

“Very fine lemonade, this. Good job, boys,” said Merlot.

“Thank you, Mr. Redwood!” Approval from the vintner and his wife was even better than the approval of the mayor! Everyone knew how hard they worked to make the delicious wines and juices Porto del Sol was famous for.

“Yes, indeed. Keep up the good work,” Shiraz assured them. “It’s wonderfully refreshing.”

“Thank you, ma’am!”

The line behind the Redwoods burst into a murmur of excitement, above and beyond the ongoing chatter as people waited. Everyone sounded enthusiastic about the boys’ little enterprise, especially with the Redwoods’ stamp of approval.

They served and served, and finally had to break out their reserved extra jug of lemonade. “It’s a good thing we made a lot before we set up,” Huey told Muddy.

“For sure,” worried Muddy. “After Samuel and Karen, here come the Pickleweeds!” There were seven in the Pickleweed family, and every single one of them was here.

“Oh boy … I hope we have enough!”

Huey wiped his forehead and breathed out a “phew!” The Pickleweeds had come and gone, and he and Muddy could see the end of the line. It looked like they had just enough to serve the Persians and Martha.

“Here you are! Thanks so much for coming by,” Huey passed out glasses to the Persians, while Muddy busied himself juicing more lemons and pouring more water.

He paused, and Huey could hear him mutter, “Uh-oh.”

He didn’t get a chance to ask Muddy what was wrong, because Hector and Isabella showed up just at that moment. “Hi Huey! Mom sent us to get some lemonade for Dad, please!” Hector said.

“He’s so busy working today, and it’s so hot. We’re bringing him his lunch, and a big thermos of your lemonade would really hit the spot.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” said Huey. “Muddy’s making more, but we should have just enough left to fill up that thermos.”

“Thanks, Huey! Thanks, Muddy,” the other kids chorused, and waved as they headed for Charles’ farmland.

“What was uh-oh?” Huey asked, once the Hunter-Smyths had gone.

“We forgot to bring more sugar!”

“Oh no! What’ll we do?” Now was not the time to panic! They both fell silent for a moment, trying to figure out what next.

“The Chocolates are just around the corner,” Muddy suggested. “Maybe Mrs. Chocolate will let us borrow some.”

“That’s a good idea,” agreed Huey. “If you’ll finish getting the rest of the lemons squeezed, I’ll go ask.” He pattered off before Muddy had a chance to say anything, and returned a few minutes later with a small blue canister.

“She said we could take the whole jar and bring it back when we were done for the day,” he said excitedly. “Now we don’t have to worry about running out!”

“Phew! Well, let’s get this put together before anyone else shows up!” It was a good thing they scrambled, because —

“Hi guys! Smile! Freya wants to interview you for the paper!” Sherry said, just as they set down the fresh pitcher. She snapped their photo with smiles all around.

“That’s right! We overheard you asking Mom about the sugar, and your lemonade stand sounds awesome! Tell us all about everything! We’ll make it front-page!” Freya enthused.

The boys looked at each other in amazement. From the mayor, to the vintner, to the paper! Okay, it was Freya’s little Daily Chocolate that she hand-published, but even so, that was big! And Freya’s dad posted the paper up in his cafe, so people besides the kids would see it, too. Hopefully Freya would write them a nice article.

Muddy started explaining how they’d planned their enterprise, while Huey fetched her a tall glass of their freshly-made lemonade.

“I’m so excited to try it! Everyone’s been saying it’s so delicious and s—s——

“SALTY!” howled Freya. “You’ve been sabotaged! This is the crime of the century!”

Sherry put her hands up. “Freya, please, stop and think. They got the sugar from your own mom. There’s no way she would sabotage — “

“Someone must have sneaked into our house! That’s even worse!’ Freya started scribbling furiously in her notebook.

Huey took a tentative sip of the lemonade. Freya was right; it was terrible! The boys looked at each other anxiously, and Muddy wiped away sweat from his forehead. Front-page might not be good for them after all!

“Freya, dear, calm down,” said a familiar voice.

“Mrs. Chocolate!”

“Hello, boys. Hi, Sherry,” she beamed, and turned apologetically to Huey. She was carrying an identical blue canister to the one Huey had brought earlier, but it was a size larger. “I’m sorry, Huey. When I told you to take the blue canister, I didn’t tell you which one. The sugar is in the bigger one.”

“Oh, that’s what happened!” Huey looked flustered, but relieved. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Chocolate. I must have used two cups of your salt!”

“That’s all right! Let’s make up a new batch,” she suggested, offering the boys the other canister. They quickly set to work.

“Aw,” Freya groused quietly. There was no sabotage, just a misunderstanding. She drew a disappointed line through her Lemonade Stand Larceny title. Sherry patted her on the shoulder. “How about Lemonade Stand Luxury?” she suggested instead, as Muddy passed them each a newly-mixed lemonade.

“Aaaah…” Delicious. It was so delicious; cool and refreshing just like everyone else had said. “I think we can do that,” Freya decided, her disappointment vanishing under a wave of sweet lemonade. She nodded enthusiastically at Huey and Muddy. “Just you wait and see!”

“Thanks for helping us, Mrs. Chocolate,” the boys said gratefully. Not only had she saved them from a lemonade disaster, she’d saved them from Freya roasting them in the paper. What a relief!

“It’s my pleasure. Good luck with the rest of your day, boys!”

———————

The rest of the day went smoothly. Freya flopped nearby and scribbled furiously while Sherry snapped photos, and other friends came and went, getting fresh glasses of lemonade to top off their day. Finally, worn out and tired, the boys started packing up.

“That was a great day,” Muddy enthused. “Even with the mix-up!”

“It sure was, but I’ve learned my lesson,” Huey agreed. “Always, always taste-test before you serve anything to Freya!”

#calico critters #sylvanian families #miniatures #rement #muddy mcburrows #huey seabreeze #freya chocolate #sherry redwood

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 2 years ago

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Where

Post-6.0. While recovering in Sharlayan, Agi and Estinien consider where they will make their home. SFW.

Estinien, blinking sleep out of his eyes, first noticed that his lady wife was not in bed with him. With an impatient exhale, he rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. Too damn fancy for my taste, but it’s also not my home. They were still guests of the Leveilleurs (along with Luci) while Agnes recovered from their foray to Ultima Thule. She and Esme need rest. I don’t care how many servants or Scions I’ll scowl at---let my wife rest!

“Oh sorry, love. Didn’t mean to wake you.” A smiling Agnes said quietly as she emerged from the bathroom and padded back to bed. Once in bed, she turned on her side and curled into his side. Like normal. She’s alive and safe and happy…and in a little while, we’ll have our daughter.

“You didn’t wake me. Tis almost nine in the morning.” He whispered, wrapping a scar-filled arm around her shoulder. “I already told the servants to leave us be until we call.”

Agnes giggled. “Thank fuck. I appreciate them, and they’re all very nice…but…it’s just all a bit much.” She sighed and laid a hand on his stomach. “I realized something just now. I mean, not when I was in the toilet but…oh fuck it, we need to think about our future.”

Estinien raised an eyebrow. “Our future?”

“Yes. Where will we live? We never talked about that other than agreeing that you don’t want to live near my Mum.” Luci is an amazing woman, but there is no fucking way I’m living so close to my mother-in-law. “So, where would you want us to live? Because I don’t think the Varlineau Traveling Vagabonds should be a thing.” She giggled more and tickled him a little.

“Varlineau Traveling Vagabonds? How long did it take you to come up with that?” He teased, squeezing her shoulder. My wife is so smart. Beautiful, kind, and smart.

She craned her neck to look up at him and stuck out her tongue. “Very little time I’ll have you know! And you haven’t answered my question!”

Estinien sighed. “We could list places and see what we’d both like. Ul’dah is a no for me.”

Agnes nodded. “I might be a Captain in the Flames and Mum’s family is there but…no. Gridania is a fuck no from me, love.”

I would rather gouge out mine own eyes than live in that place. “Agreed. Absolutely not to Limsa—”

“Because of the proximity to Mum.” She giggled, tickling his stomach again. “Ishgard?”

Heaving a large sigh, Estinien screwed his eyes shut. On the one hand: still in Eorzea in case Agi is needed. Hot springs…and Aymeric. On the other hand: assholes, religious zealots, everyone in our business, and I’m not sure our children will be accepted. “I…as much as…what I mean to say is—”

Agnes hummed softly. “I don’t want to live in a fucking tundra. Shirogane?” Well yes, thank you Agi for putting that so plainly.

“I like Shirogane and Kugane quite a bit. We enjoy going there. The only downside I see is that I’m not sure how they feel about an elezen and hyur having children.” I worry about that. I don’t want our children to go through what Hilda did.

“Yes, I’m not sure either. I could ask Hancock, but…”

I’VE BLOODY GOT IT!!!! “What about Radz-at-Han? Vrtra would be happy to have us. I’m sure he or someone at the Megadhuta could assist us with finding housing. I remember you saying when we arrived in Thavnair that you said it felt like home.” Fuck, I’m rambling. I’m far too excited about this prospect. Truly, I believe it’s the perfect place for us and our family.

Grinning, his wife nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, it truly does feel like home. I mean, Costa del Sol will always have a special place in my heart, but Thavnair just feels…right, you know? And people won’t be weird as fuck around us or Esme.” She shifted, now sitting up with both hands on her growing belly. “Well Esme, what do you think? Radz-at-Han?”

“Hmph. Esme, were she born and able to speak, would agree, I’m sure.” If she’s anything like Agi, then she’ll be smart, kind, and have a heart of gold. Here’s hoping you don’t get my looks, Esme.

Agnes rubbed her belly and giggled. “You hear that, little one? We’re going to live in Radz-at-Han. That’s where you’ll be growing up. We love you so much. Do you think she can hear us, love?” She turned to ask Estinien, whose eyes were wide.

How the fuck am I supposed to know?! “Maybe? If she can, then…ahem…be a good baby for Mummy, alright?” He sat up next to Agnes and placed a scarred hand on her belly. You’re safe and loved, Esme. Mummy’s right---we love you. “You getting hungry?”

“Oh yes. Do you mind heading to the Last Stand and—”

Estinien chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Aye. Your usual?”

“Yes! Wait, no!” She’s very excited about breakfast. “How about a sausage and cheese biscuit with a side of crispy popotes with those cheese curd things on top?” Goodness, she’s hungrier than I thought! Get a move on, Varlineau, your wife needs food!

Quickly slipping on clothes, Estinien leapt from the window of their room at the Leveilleur Estate, to Agnes’s amusement. “LOVE! THERE IS A FUCKING DOOR!”

#agnes currai #agnes varlineau #estinien wyrmblood #estinien varlineau #estinien x wol #wolstinien #pregnancy #there is no way estinien is living near luci sorry lol #these two dorks #agi 'ishgard is too fucking cold' currai varlineau

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projectbluearcadia · 2 years ago

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Y'Know Steam Makes Things Soft

[ Contains non-graphic Nudity. Reader Discretion... Suggested? ]

Annelie undresses in the bathroom, folding her clothes as she does so, turning on the water. She catches herself in the mirror, staring at her reflection for several moments.

I don’t look any different, but my body doesn’t feel like it’s mine sometimes.

Her eyes linger on the black scratches on her chest.

Well... except for that. Just looking at them fills me with unpleasant feelings...

Annelie closes her eyes.

That incessant ticking is still pounding in my ears. It’s almost enough to make me want to slap Solomon again. Sorry, Sol, you’re a fun guy to be around; you don’t deserve that. I’m just venting.

Annelie opens her eyes and steps into the shower, letting out a sharp hiss at the hot water. She moves to turn it down, only for a familiar red-nailed hand to turn it down for her.

Annelie: ...thanks. I thought you weren’t rewarding me until I told you what was going on?

Lucifer: This isn’t your reward; it’s mine.

Annelie: Well, then forgive me if I get handsy.

Lucifer joins her in the shower.

Lucifer: Stopping you is trivial.

Annelie: Is it now?

Lucifer: Yes. Very much so.

Lucifer lathers his hands in soap and starts washing Annelie’s back. She lets out a soft sigh.

Annelie: Your hands are nice.

Lucifer: I know.

He kisses her neck, and she turns around to put shampoo in his hair.

Annelie: You’re getting greyer.

Lucifer: Like hell.

Annelie: Mm. Spin, dear.

Annelie turns her attention to Lucifer’s upper back as he turns around.

Annelie: How do your shoulders get this tense...? Relax, you idiot.

Lucifer: I don’t want to hear that from you.

Lucifer softly groans as she massages his neck.

Lucifer: That feels nice though...

Annelie: I know.

Lucifer: Hmph.

Annelie: ...about the thing from earlier...

Lucifer: You’re not getting out of telling me with a massage.

Annelie: No, it’s just... I...

Annelie bites her lip and leans her head against Lucifer’s back.

Annelie: ...I’m sorry... I’m freezing up on you here.

Lucifer: Take your time to warm up in the water then.

Annelie smiles a little.

If you said that any less sweetly...

Annelie: I’m scared, Lucifer.

Lucifer: Scared?

Annelie: The human world scares me.

Lucifer turns around, and Annelie butts her head against his chest instead.

Lucifer: Why does your home scare you?

He runs his fingers up and down Annelie’s back.

Annelie: It’s not “home” to me.

He pauses.

Lucifer: What happened?

Annelie: Nothing, I just... I don’t know what’ll happen if I go back there.

Lucifer: Didn’t you tell me that you missed the sunlight? Chocolate? Gloxinia flowers?

Annelie: I do... I miss all of it.

Lucifer: Then come with me next week. You don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m with you.

Can you really promise me something like that?

Annelie looks up and smiles gingerly at Lucifer.

Annelie: ...you’re right.

She hugs him tightly, and he quickly returns it.

Annelie: I can’t wait.

She starts shaking, and Lucifer kisses her forehead gently.

Lucifer: Lies don’t work on me. We don’t have to go, Annelie, if it really means that much to you. I don’t like how you’re avoiding it, but I care too much to force you.

Curse you for being sweet and tempting me to say “let’s not after all.” You really are a devil, aren’t you?

Annelie: No, I know where you’re coming from, and I agree with you... it’s just hard.

Lucifer: Then do it for me, and more importantly, do it for you. Okay?

#soft luci #shower scene #obey me lucifer #fanfiction #obey me shall we date #self indulgence #shameless #obey me!#LuciAnne

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years ago

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Okay, so let's get this started with the most important thing. This chapter is not the total mess that you see! I can see why you struggle with it. You said it's all over the place, and yes, there's a lot of different things to deal with. But - I don't think it's confusing and it's definitely not repetitive.

Thank you so so so so so so much ❤️❤️❤️

The interaction between Dani and Sol works great. You have such a talent to give your characters the right chemistry together. It feels so natural that the girls are connecting while Geralt doesn't get it, because of course he doesn't.

I'm actually planning on doing a girls night chapter soon... And I think maybe some of the boys are going to be very afraid of that night... And perhaps they have a reason to be...

That whole paragraph is wonderful 😍

ALRIGHT, SO! This paragraph was actually what I wanted the whole rest of the chapter to be. Like the 'conclusion' to settling back in together with the realization that they weren't going to be spending much time apart for the forseeable future. Only to then realize halfway through the chapter that that wouldn't be possible because there was much more to unpack here. So. Yeah. That's a big part of the reason I struggled with this chapter so much.

So now we come to the point that made me think the most. We have Sol asking Geralt to stop suppressing his senses. And she even considers the possibility that it will turn him feral. And then when he does this she asks him why he doesn't make love? I don't think that's fair, Sol! I can understand that this a question to discuss between the two of them, but her timing is definitely off. And I think Geralt took it well. I was afraid that it killed the mood for the rest of the chapter, but he had the right reaction. He was soft but determined to end this with orgasms instead of an argument. I must admit, in the last chapters it was all about the smut for me. It was hot and sexy. But I didn't feel the deep connection between Sol and Geralt. After this, I'm rooting for them. They are deeply in love with each other and they struggle with the unfamiliar feeling of being near each other for a longer time. They have to find their way yet in that new chapter of their relationship. And that's really interesting.

I love this part of your reply because YES! I don't think Sol was being entirely fair, either - but I do agree with @deandoesthingstome that Geralt was 100% being a bit of an inconsiderate dick - and her timing was spectacularly bad, but I'm also fairly sure she wouldn't have brought it up at all if she waited.

Also, I'm glad you're rooting for them now, because I do think they're an awesome couple.

Part 14 - Thalia

Masterlist

Part 13 -- Part 15

Pairing: Geralt x ofc

Summary: Geralt and Solveig are beginning to realize what Sol's move means for their relationship.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, fingering, some angst, lots of feelings... I think that's it?

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: I did NOT beta this. And I'm sorry for the way I ended this. And I'm sorry for this in general, I'm not entirely happy with it, it's not what it was in my head AT ALL. At this point, I'm just happy it's out of the way.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @keanureevesisbae @peaches1958

Today was December 24th and you planned to spent most of it in bed with absolutely no obligations. It was fantastic. The past few years, any holiday had been a mess of family, friends, dinner, dressing up, hurrying, panicking and your mother - bless her - complaining about the length of Geralt’s hair when she thought he couldn’t hear her. That was still a step up from the years before you met him, when the complaining had been about your lack of a boyfriend, and that hadn’t just been your mom talking. Your family was fond of Geralt, and he got along with them better than he did with most people, which was far more than you had ever dared to ask for when you first started going out. You had very little to complain about in terms of family gatherings, yet you were incredibly grateful that you got to spend this year’s holidays in a more private setting. You started your day curled up in bed with Geralt, which was precisely how you liked it, and planned on spending the rest of your day, too.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Geralt said. He finally sounded tired - which was reasonable, after two days of fucking each other senseless, honestly - but it didn’t stop him from extending an invitation for you to join him, which you declined. Over the course of the past two days, you had spent an awful lot of time in bed, but gotten disastrously little sleep. You dozed off again while Geralt took his shower. Even after three years together, you still dreamt of him, though not usually when you were with him. Today was different.

Your dreams were a rerun of the past two days. The way he looked at you while you read with your head resting in his lap. The way he silently mouthed the words he was reading when there was so much noise around him that he couldn’t focus anymore. The familiar - borderline iconic - sigh when he finally reached for a pair of noise-canceling headphones. His content sigh as he pulled you closer to his body in his sleep, and the slightly possessive grip that pulled you back in when you so much as dared to think about moving away from him. The way his hold on you loosened again when you softly talked to him. The way he knew you, inside and out, picking up on the tiniest little changes in your behavior, even when you were apart. He paid closer attention to you than to anyone else. You had once asked him why, and he had answered that you quieted his thoughts. At the time you hadn’t realized just what that meant to him, but you knew better now.

By the time you woke up it was well into the afternoon. Geralt didn’t need to turn around to know you were awake.

“You’re up.” It wasn’t a question - or a great conversation starter. Then again, he was never good at striking up a conversation with anyone.

“If I tell you I’m not, will you believe me?” You loved that he didn’t mind it when you teased him. In fact, he loved how much you enjoyed teasing him. Sometimes you wondered if he only laughed because he knew how you always longed to hear that wonderful sound. A pleased sigh escaped you as you looked at him while he continued to work on whatever it was he was working on.

“Are you studying?” From the looks of it, he wasn’t.

“I was just summoned to arrange tickets for the new year’s concert,” he replied, “which I cannot do yet.”

“Why?” Somehow, a generic question always got you the most specific answers from this man.

“The whole house agreed to go to see Sherlock perform - and Elena, I suppose, though none of us are really familiar with her - but August just texted that Anjelica would like to join, and I was wondering if you might, too?”

“That sounds lovely, when exactly is it?”

“Next Friday,” he replied. His head turned towards the door before the knock came.

“No,” Geralt snapped immediately before nodding at you. You quickly found a big sweater and a pair of sweatpants to put on. “Come in, Danielle.” You relaxed a little when you heard the person on the other side of the door was a girl. Any of the boys would have flung the door open carelessly after being given permission, but it opened very hesitantly.

“Is this a bad time?” Her voice was kind - which was all you could say for now, as you couldn’t see her yet. Geralt chuckled.

“Not at all, Danielle,” he said.

“Oh, because you sounded… kinda mad?” she said hesitantly as she stepped into the room. She was pretty, and she looked a bit shy.

“‘No’ is code for ‘someone’s naked’,” you laughed, “it works for the whole house.”

“Did ‘don’t come in’ not work?”

“It didn’t,” Geralt now also laughed, no doubt remembering some embarrassing instances from the past. “Danielle, this is Solveig, Sol, Danielle.”

“Hi!” She just smiled and waved, which you were grateful for. You weren’t exactly in the mood for a hug - or dressed properly for one. Her eyes revealed that not all of her questions were answered by that simple introduction.

“I’m his girlfriend,” you said while a smile took over your face, “Mikey didn’t say anything, did he?”

“Not a word.” She sighed before speaking again. “Have you guys been together for a long time?”

“Three years,” you answered.

“Why haven’t I heard anyone mention her?” she asked Geralt, who was trying to hide behind his computer - and failing, as he was far too large to make himself invisible behind the small screen.

“We don’t see each other very often,” he answered. He looked as if he felt he should be talking about me more often. The fact of the matter, however, was that whenever we weren’t together, our lives were very much separate. Danielle seemed to piece a few things together about last night’s encounter in the hallway. Then there was Geralt, who pieced absolutely nothing together when it came to the notion that curious women were more likely to leave when they had nothing to be curious about anymore, and had resorted to glaring. It was his favorite reaction to most things, and it hardly ever worked.

“I’m from Sweden, we met when Geralt did a semester abroad,” you chuckled.

“That’s really cool! I want to hear all about that when your boyfriend isn’t busy death-staring me out of his room.” Geralt didn’t look amused when she said it, but that didn’t matter, because you found it funny enough for the both of you. You liked this girl, and the fact that she was with Mike made you curious. He didn’t necessarily have a great track record when it came to steady relationships. From what you’d heard - and seen, but only briefly - he was a bit too all over the place for something long term. The kind of guy who was easily bored of something - or at least far too easily distracted. It made you wonder how these two were holding up, and very glad to finally have enough time to find out.

“Why are you here?” Geralt growled. For some reason, he seemed to want Danielle gone sooner rather than later. Or he was of the impression that you were the one who wanted her to leave…

“So impolite, Geralt!” She pretended to be shocked, which was oddly comical.

“Danielle!” Oh, he definitely wanted her out…

“Lighten up, would you?” No, he wouldn’t. “Mike mentioned you were all going to see the orchestra on Friday, asked if I wanted to tag along, told me I should talk to you about tickets? So count me in, okay?”

“Noted,” he said curtly.

“Nice to meet you, Solveig,” Danielle said as she took a step back to reach for the door, “if you ever get tired of him, I’m down the hall!”

“Bye, Danielle,” Geralt sighed as he practically chased her out of the room.

“Call me Dani, please,” she said before stepping back into the hallway. Geralt agreed before he shut the door.

“Geralt?” You looked at him like he had gone crazy and made a mental note to apologize to Danielle when you saw her again. “That was rude, even for you.”

“The last time I didn’t get rid of a roommate fast enough you got angry.” You were pretty sure he was faking his innocence to annoy you, but on the off chance he wasn’t…

“That’s because I was naked and it was a noise complaint, Geralt.” The memory of a mildly agitated Marshall who had shown up at the door to ask you to keep it down was definitely not your fondest. Especially not because Geralt had spent just a little too much time making conversation while you were still naked in his bed, dying of embarrassment.

“Hmm, that does sound like it would make a difference.” He struggled to keep the corners of his mouth from curling up. Geralt found that story a lot funnier than you did.

You paid him no mind and picked up your book while he dealt with the concert-business. When he was done he joined you on his bed, sitting cross-legged near your feet, tenderly rubbing your legs. It felt nice. “Does it bother you,” he suddenly said, “that I don’t talk about you much?”

“Geralt, you hate talking to people about your day, I hardly expect you to talk to them about mine,” you laughed, “besides, what would you tell them?”

“It’s not just that.” He shook his head while he spoke. “If I talk about you often, I miss you more.”

His words left you stupefied - your discussions of your feelings when you were away from each other rarely went further than the actual ‘I miss you’ over the phone. Hearing him say it like this gave you butterflies, but there was one other thing…

“Now it does bother me,” you said with a mischievous laugh. Geralt raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re telling me we missed out on a lot of fantastic phone sex because you didn’t want to miss me?” He laughed, knowing you were right. Your phone calls did get better when he really missed you. Before you realized he had even moved, you felt him next to you, nestling into your side. His hand rested on your stomach, underneath your sweater, as he liked to feel your skin.

“I’ll miss those calls,” he sighed as he squeezed you lightly. “What’s the point if you live close enough for me to just come over?”

He tickled you, which caused you to throw your book across the room - it was one of his, so it didn’t bother you as much. Trying to fight him off was - as always - a fruitless effort: he had you pinned down on the bed in no time.

You looked into his eyes as his face hovered over yours. They were mesmerizing, giving you a look that you knew was for you and no one else. Warm, kind, soft and full of adoration. Comfortable and familiar. For the past three years he had been the harbor where you anchored your heart, each time you saw him, taking most of it with you again each time you left. But not this time. This time was different because you weren’t leaving, and it changed everything, including the man before you. He was no longer your haven, he was your home.

Lips brushed against yours in the softest kiss before withdrawing, and soon his eyes were all you could focus on again. You raised a hand to carefully stroke a thumb across his cheek, and he leaned into the touch with a faint smile.

“Hey,” you whispered before you realized it. You couldn’t help yourself: it was as if you saw him for the first time.

“Hi,” he answered, his smile growing wider before it disappeared when you slowly pulled him in for another kiss. It was slow and tender, and overflowing with love. Not passion, not lust, not the furious yearning for that sweet lovers’ embrace. Just love. Of course you did long for him, but that longing now lay still within you, like a frozen lake rather than a vicious riptide. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance, and you remained calm, as tongues patiently wandered. In him, you missed every bit of the ravenous desire he was normally overcome by. When he pulled away, he smiled as he had before, not plagued by lust burning in his eyes, or labored breathing, just that same smile.

“I love you,” he said. It was soft, but not a whisper; firm, but not harsh; and most of all: it was true. Of course you knew. He showed you in every imaginable way - often in his own peculiar ways, but still. And he’d said it before, though the moments were few and far between that he expressed it so directly, yet this time was different. Beneath the promise of love, there was also the promise of stability, permanence, eternity, even. And the feeling was mutual.

You stumbled into paradise when your lips touched again. The kiss was once again soft and slow, and it seemed to last forever. You had finally found peace, and the patience to allow you to take things wherever they may. Of course you eventually took it where you always did; naked in bed, moaning into the other’s ear as Geralt made you see stars with even the simplest of movements. Soon after your kiss ended, his lips began to wander, exploring your neck and shoulders. His fingers explored the skin underneath your sweater, gently caressing every inch of you as if he’d never touched you before. And in a way it was true. He had never touched you like this, calmly and without hurry, and so extremely careful to steer clear of your bruises. Your sweater inched towards your chest, which eventually prompted you to take it off.

“I don’t think I’ve ever taken this much time to undress you,” Geralt said. He was probably right. Even your first night together had been more hurried than this.

“There was that time during spring break last year,” you remembered. Geralt laughed.

“I don’t remember undressing you at all, that night, love.” He was right about that, too: You hadn’t been wearing more than a lace bodysuit when you invited him into your apartment that night, and he hadn’t bothered to get you out of that. The warmth of his hand on your skin made you hum with contentment.

“We’ve really never taken it slow, have we?” you asked. The longer you thought about it, the more it surprised you. Three years, and not once?

“Not once,” Geralt said as if he could read your mind, “we never had time.”

“Never had the time,” you wondered, “or never took the time?”

“Perhaps a bit of both,” Geralt chuckled as he softly kissed your collarbone, “will you let me make up for it?” Now, that didn’t sound too bad.

“I’ll help you make up for it,” you replied. Geralt grinned at you.

He turned his attention to your neck, mapping it more thoroughly than he ever had before. It was still sensitive from two nights ago, but he went about it carefully. Before long, you were moaning in his ear and squirming beneath his touch. His hands explored your chest, before eventually, his mouth ventured there, too. That freed up his hand to slip into your - technically his - sweatpants. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised by the wetness he found between your legs. Of course he wasn’t; he could probably smell your arousal. You chuckled at the memory of the first time you learned of his extraordinary senses.

“What’s wrong, love?” Geralt asked, raising his hand back up to lay on your hip.

“Nothing, just remembered something,” you said, “about the day you told me about your… perceptive abilities.” His laugh filled the room, and was without a doubt louder than he had intended. It had taken him two weeks to convince you that he didn’t think you smelled bad. After those two weeks, it became a full time job to effectively ignore what he was capable of - save the occasional curious question. You’d never asked him the question that was on your lips right now, despite having thought about it countless times.

“What’s this like for you?”

“Three years and your curiosity finally got the better of you, huh?” He grinned. You could have known he’d guessed long ago that you were curious about it, even if you never asked.

“I mean… I know I’ve asked before what you sense at any given time, but…”

“You mean, when we’re together?”

“Having sex, specifically,” you buried your head against his chest when you said it, somehow too embarrassed by your curiosity to look at him. He hummed softly as he contemplated his answer.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he started, “feel your pulse. I can tell when it speeds up, I don’t have to explain to you why that’s very helpful.” You chuckled softly; that definitely sounded like it could be useful at times.

“And there’s the smell. It’s intoxicating…” He mumbled the words into your hair. Intoxicating… You liked the sound of that.

“And then all the sensations you also feel. Warmth, sweat, breathing, movement, all of that.”

“It sounds intense,” you said, unsure whether that meant better or worse.

“Isn’t that the point?” Geralt laughed. Of course he was right; it was intense for you, too, after all. And he was used to all those sensations… “That being said, I tend to focus on whatever sensation I need, and more or less tune the rest out…”

“What happens if you don’t?” you asked. He looked at you inquisitively.

“You mean if I give in to all of it?” He thought about it for a moment. “I have no idea, let’s find out.” That definitely wasn’t something you were inclined to say ‘no’ to. In the back of your mind, a voice reminded you that there was a chance it would turn him absolutely feral, but you pushed the thought away. It wasn’t as if you had places to be tomorrow, or the day after that…

Geralt’s hand slipped back beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. You gasped when his fingers passed your clit. Moans escaped him as he took his time exploring your wet heat. The sounds turned into growls when he slipped the first finger inside, and not long after it the second.

“I love how fucking wet you get for me.” His voice was hoarse and rife with arousal. He knew exactly how to curl his fingers to hit the right spot inside of you. Soon, you were squirming and whining in his arms. You had hoped that your request for him to give in to his senses would have prompted him to pick up the pace, but unfortunately for you, he didn’t. He still seemed hellbent on going slow; teasing you by slowing his movements at exactly the right times, clearly relying on his skills as a heart-monitor.

“I’ve decided that I consider what you do cheating, Geralt,” you gasped after he skillfully denied you your fourth orgasm. He chuckled in reply.

“Forgive me, my love,” he said as he kissed a trail up your neck to your ear, “if I don’t take that too seriously, coming from the woman who sucked me dry in under three minutes yesterday.” The playful nip at your earlobe almost sent you into a fit, but you heard his words a little too clearly. Three minutes. That was pretty impressive, especially considering you didn’t have super senses. It was also just the so-manieth example of the constant rush the two of you had been in until now. Geralt fingering you into oblivion didn’t make it easy to think straight, but you somehow managed. Whether the conclusion of your pondering was something that desperately needed to be shared now was utterly debatable - a discussion leaning heavily towards the side of ‘definitely not’ - but you did it anyway. Because, well, he asked!

“What are you thinking?”

“Why do we never make love?” Your question seemed to surprise him, judging from the hum/growl he let out. “We always go at it like either animals or enemies. Either way it’s practically a fight.” Geralt considered your words for a moment. From his face, you could tell he slowly came to the same conclusions you had.

“The way I see it,” he started his response, “we can blame the lack of time, or strong personalities.”

“I’m so glad you’re joking about this! Here I was, scared we might end up having an actual serious conversation about something important!” You elbowed him in the ribs - which unequivocally hurt your elbow more than it did his ribs.

“I wish to change my answer. It’s definitely the last thing, because your sarcastic attitude makes me want to knock you down a peg.” His voice was gruff and his fingers pressed into your walls in an almost punishing way. You raised an eyebrow at him. It was the only thing you could do to prevent yourself from thanking him for proving your point, which would no doubt set him on edge more. He understood what you were trying to say perfectly, though, judging from the laughter that followed your gesture. Then, you also started laughing, and all attempts at ‘adult activity’ were halted until further notice.

“Sol, why do you all of a sudden want to have normal sex?” Geralt asked. “It sounds quite boring, to be honest.”

“We can’t always have spectacular sex, Geralt.” You glared at him as you struggled to find the right words to use to string together a clear explanation.

“We have been doing exactly that for three years,” he said as he shrugged. You shook your head - clearly, he wasn’t getting this.

“We were always making up for something. Time spent apart. Time we were about to spend apart. What if…” Your voice hitched as a sudden wave of anxiety wrapped its long, icy fingers around your throat. When you spoke again, it was barely more than a whisper. “What if we run out of things to make up for?” Your eyes begged him for a serious answer, because in all fairness, you were scared to death that you were about to find out your relationship didn’t work at all. He picked up on your distress even though you didn’t say anything - of course he did. His hand cupped your face - and you leaned into the touch.

“If you want to take it slow for a change, I’m on board with that,” Geralt said softly, “but if you don’t stop talking like that I’m going to interpret ‘take it slow’ in the worst possible way for you. I love you.” And that was all that mattered to him. You wanted to protest, which didn’t escape his attention.

“I will gag you if need be, Sol.” By means of a warning, he shut you up with a kiss.

As his tongue slipped past your lips and explored your mouth, his hand made its way down your stomach - again. This time, Geralt’s determination was obvious, despite his commitment to his promise to take it slow. He rubbed tight circles around your clit - his movements were determined and the rhythm steady - and he had you moaning loudly into his mouth in no time. As you inched closer and closer to your climax, you noticed how Geralt’s breathing changed along with your own. His lips never left yours, and his kiss changed, too, as his breath evolved from controlled to labored and frantic over the course of minutes.

“Come for me,” he growled into your mouth, “I want to hear you.” In all honesty - and being dishonest about it would be fairly pointless, because anyone would know you for the liar you’d be - he didn’t have to ask you twice. Just after he replaced the fingers on your clit with his thumb, and slipped two fingers into you with ease, he pulled you apart. Your cries were muffled by his mouth, which was still on yours - now crushing more than anything else. It was probably for the better, because the slew of profanities you uttered weren’t suitable for… well, for anyone, quite frankly. Geralt didn’t stop when you came, instead he unraveled you with care, guiding you down from your high gently. The volume of his moans and growls rivaled that of the sounds you made, and it was an incredible turn on for you, as always.

“I need you,” he growled, teeth digging into your bottom lip, “now, please.” The talking was new; Geralt would rarely utter more than the occasional expletive, unless he was trying to get a rise out of you. The begging… That was even more surprising: Geralt didn’t beg. You realized for the first time just how much of his senses he always ignored when you were together - and he was still holding back. As luck would have it, you needed the exact same thing.

“What are you waiting for?” As soon as you said it, Geralt’s lips pulled into a wide grin. Even now, you couldn’t help but tease him a little. To your surprise, he didn’t tease you back. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you - which made you moan - and maneuvered himself between your legs. He didn’t tease, he didn’t wait; he just sank into you with ease. You absolutely relished his reaction. Put bluntly, it was as if it was the first time he ever got his dick wet. His breathing revealed that he was having more than a little trouble keeping himself in check.

“I’ll go slow, Sol, because you asked me to,” he growled into your ear, “but the next round is going to be on my terms.”

-> Part 15

#comment reply #179cs #179 crescent street

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kuronanox · 3 years ago

Text

A Women’s Determination- William Vangeance

(Author note: I know I've been gone for so long, I'm very sorry. It's hard to keep motivation on my writing because I lack a bit but I enjoy every piece I've written! So sorry that request are coming extremely slow. I really want to fulfill them for y'all though!)

(Your Name) was sweating in her seat as her captain rope hugged her body a little uncomfortable today. She shifted around in her seat waiting for the meeting to start. She was a confident and powerful women but, when it came to her love life it was basically nonexistent. Many men have tried to pursue her but each time she refused them.

Her heart was elsewhere to someone who was close yet far to reach. William Vangeance a mysterious man yet kind and loving to his members. His loyalty and dedication to the Clover kingdom made (Your Name) admire him for his hard work.

"Hello (Your Name), are you feeling well?" William ask with concern in his eyes as he took his seat next to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and cleared her throat giving him a smile. "I'm fine, it's a bit hot right now."

"It's winter outside." Yami states as she blushes and kicked his leg under the table. "Shut up you stink!"

William lightly chuckles and hands her a handkerchief he had on him. "You can use this."

With embarrassment (Your Name) thanked him before giving Yami a dirty look.

"I hope Charlotte doesn't think I'm flirting with Yami, god forbid."

As the meeting started she couldn't help but stare slightly back at William. He was listening to Julius about recent news and what not about the kingdom. Williams eyes met hers as he gave her a small smile and turn back to the meeting. She smiled back slightly.

Once the meeting ended everyone took their leave as (Your Name) followed William. "Thank you for your handkerchief."

"It's okay, keep it. It's better use with you."

Scratching the back of her hair she looks down with a flush. Looking back at him she had a boost of confidence to just kiss and confess to him right there. "William."

"Yes (Your Name)"

"Uhh thank you, really I appreciate it." Her smile slowly faded as he smiled back and took his leave again. She sighed, William was so mysterious and hard to open up.

Truthfully the only reason she always held back from telling William how she felt was because she knew he always kindly rejected everyone.

(Your Name) knew his secret, the reason he wore his mask. His scars and the insecurity that came with it. That didn't change the way she felt for him though. She had accidentally stumbled across William privately after coming back from training some squad members. He was resting and happen to have his mask off.

It was a surreal moment for the both of them when they locked eyes. Hers were filled with love and acceptance but William was fear as he quickly put his mask on.

He shared very few words to her after the incident probably because he was scared she would viewed him as ugly and different.

William was sadden to know that she saw his real face, the only person he really cared that saw. To him (Your Name) was a light he saw when things were dark.

William made it back to the base and closed himself in his room, he had feelings for her. He refused to accept it.

"How can she truly love a ugly monster like me?"

He sighed and retired for the night, William thought someone as strong and powerful as her should be with someone with confidence in how they were and not hide behind a mask.

As he laid in bed he couldn't help but smile to himself replaying her image of today in his head. It was as close he was going to be with her. He was confident she deserved someone better.

"Just tell him." Sol pushes (Your Name) on the shoulder as she grimaced.

"What are we talking about?" Charlotte asks as she walks in on the two sitting by a fire place.

"(Your Name) here likes Captain William and I'm trying to convince her she has nothing to lose!" Sol cheers as (Your Name) hangs her head in shame wanting to punch the soul out of sol.

"I could lose a lot, me personally!" She screams at Sol.

"I thought she had a crush on Yami! I swore I saw them flirting at the meeting!" Charlotte sighs in relief it wasn't the case and it was the masked man she really liked.

"Who cares about men anyways, right ne-san!"

"Yes, we don't need men. Women basically do all the work in the world."

(Your Name) slightly cringed at the pair as she falls onto the floor with a thud, what was she going to do.

After leaving their base she walked back towards home, she wanted William and was determined to show it! Even if he thought different.

With a wicked smile on her face she crashed into a shoulder as she looked up with a furious expression. "You could have just moved if you saw me walking!" She screamed and then covered her mouth from embarrassment.

"I didn't take you to be so aggressive Captain (Your Name)." William lightly chuckles as his beautiful pearly whites showed.

Lost for words she looked away and denied it was her fault.

"I-" she started to say as he kept his calm smile and listened to her talk.

"You don't dislike me for seeing your face?" (Your Name) starts as he got confused to why he would hate such a precious soul just as hers.

"Why would I hate you?"

"I don't know, you wear a mask for a reason right? You don't want people to know. I thought you would have avoided me."

William was speechless for a second, she really was so.....cute he thought. He wanted to laugh for her silliness but wouldn't it be the roles reversed.

"I would never, if anything I shouldn't be ashamed but I came to terms with how it is." He tells her as (Your Name) pulls her hands behind her back and sadly smiles.

"William, you know I like you without the mask right?"

She was determine to let him know her feelings even if he didn't return them. At least he knew she accepted him.

"...."

Without any words coming from him she nodded her head and walked forward. (Your Name) knew he wouldn't accept it.

"(Your Name)." William calls out as she turned her head to see he had removed his mask. "You don't really mean what you said." He tries to convince her as she knitted her brows.

"Last time I checked you weren't (Your Name), now you can't go telling me how I feel." She argued with William as his mouth hung a little open lost for words.

"You really are one aggressive women." He scoffs at himself for persuading (Your Name) not to like him because he was insecure. "You really are the one for me." He smiles as she widen her eyes.

"YOU CANT JUST SAY IT THAT EASILY WHEN IT TOOK ALL MY GUT TO CONFESS TO YOU SIR!" She screams and punched him in the chest slightly as he warmly embraced her shyness now.

"But that's what makes you different, would anyone confess even if they saw the scars?"

She looked up to him and smiles into his eyes. "No, I guess I'm one persistent women."

"Indeed." William agrees as it became silent between them.

She awkwardly coughs and side eye him a few times trying to make conversation.

"I never thought to take you as a shy women."

"IM NOT!" She screams as William walked off offering her to follow him.

They walked under the moonlight as she followed side by side with him, not knowing the future that held between the two they were just happy knowing they wanted each other from this moment on.

#black clover #black clover oneshots #black clover x reader #yuki tabata #black clover oneshot #black clover images #william vangeance #black clover william

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