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svchengss · 3 years

Text

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed.

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”.

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started.

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers.

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside.

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made.

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited.

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out.

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded.

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party - jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home.

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically.

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone.

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it.

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made.

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted.

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets.

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you.

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck.

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence.

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers.

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less.

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy.

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home.

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave.

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him.

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more.

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days.

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated.

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-”

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more?

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands.

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening.

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back.

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air.

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure.

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair.

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him.

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence.

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride.

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

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rayshippouuchiha · 3 years

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Nezu finding a younger Izuku and helping him hone his analysis skill (and build some confidence and ultimately creating a terrifying child who can analyze anyone in seconds and take them down just as fast with a smile) and then enlisting him to actually teach classes on the subject

just imagine Aizawa having to interact with this terrifying nightmare child who can read him better than a book

~Ah hell here we go again~ Read More Below!

Nezu doesn’t often leave UA’s grounds these days and even more rarely does he venture out unaccompanied in some way. He has made it a habit of sorts to stay on the campus as much as possible ever since he solidified his hold on the school almost a decade ago.

It’s a move that is he admits, even if only to himself, fueled by equal parts pragmatism and paranoia.

After all UA has most of everything he needs within it already including a set of private apartments scaled just perfectly to his size and tastes despite what impression the large, human suited desk in his public office tends to give any visitors to his domain. Why should he worry about venturing out into the city when anything the campus might not be able to provide for him can easily be procured by his minions dear employees or through delivery via secured drone?

And the fewer trips he makes off campus means the fewer opportunities there are for those who are still displeased with something someone such as himself holding such a position of power over such a prestigious hero school to take action. He, of course, has all faith in his ability to protect himself from whatever ham-fisted assassin might come his way but Nezu is, above almost all else, pragmatic.

The fewer bodies left in his wake the smoother his daily life tends to run.

It had, after all, been such a pain to get the records from his time at the tender mercies of his human captors completely sealed and the quietly buried.

The humans involved in the case had finally agreed though and in the years since they did so like to tout how the illustrious UA Principle had been “rescued” from the laboratories.

Few remained who remembered what the heroes who’d raided that hellish place had actually found when they’d arrived.

Those unlucky few who did remember had long since been silenced by hook or by crook. That had been one of the first things Nezu had done when he’d finally managed to accumulated enough power that his subtle threats and sharp toothed promises had finally come to hold real meaning on more than one level.

When he’d finally managed to bite and claw himself into a position of power that showed him as the threat he always had been for those who might dare cross him.

That had been the very first secret he’d ensured would be kept as it was one that posed the biggest threat to his reputations in a number of circles.

Nezu’s intellect wasn’t his only weapon after all, only his most dangerous. Though his teeth and claws could work in a pinch if the situation called for it. And when they’d tried to take his eye it had certainly called for it.

A self professed level of resentment and sadism could be excused by most of humanity for someone of Nezu’s circumstances.

But a body count? Well. That’s when humans tended to get ... tetchy.

So while Nezu does, of course, have a residence of his own off campus for paperwork purposes and as a secondary fall back location, UA’s campus has been his unofficial residence for some number of years now. And it will be his official one as well as soon as he manages to finally get the dorm system he’s been aching to implement passed through.

They will have to pry that school, his school, and what he’s attempting to build there from his cold, dead paws and whatever other insurance policies he manages to put into action between now and his inevitable death. Which will, of course, be some time in the far far future if he has anything to say or do about it. And he will.

All of that aside there are times when leaving the campus is unavoidable, this being one of them. An unfortunate scheduling conflict and a private meeting that absolutely had to be conducted in person had left him where he is now, strolling down the sidewalks of Musutafu and quietly lamenting how very oversized so many things were.

It truly was a pity that more accommodations had not been made for those whose quirks and circumstances of birth left them on the smaller side instead of on the larger scale. But progress could be rather unfortunately slow and so it was just one more issue Nezu hoped to begin subtly influencing in the coming years.

He’s just turning a corner, intent on visiting a nearby cafe with an excellent tea selection before he returns to UA (one must have their indulgences and a good brew and a finely crafted cigarette have long been amongst Nezu’s chosen pleasures), when he hears it.

“Get back here and get what you deserve, Deku,” a voice, rough and young but edged with a viciousness that makes the backs of Nezu’s teeth itch, practically howls.

Nezu, attention instantly captured, pauses just long enough to avoid being mowed down by the child who comes tearing around the corner.

For a split second their eyes meet, a blazing green gaze Nezu can’t help but admire just a bit locking with his own, as the boy sees him and swerves to avoid running into Nezu in his obviously frantic escape.

Nezu hops backwards a half step just as the boy loses his footing and crashing painfully to the side walk beside him.

“A-Are you o-okay?” the boy half stutters, half pants as he looks up at him, eyes wide and seemingly uncaring of the blood Nezu can already smell on his scraped palms and likely ripped kneecaps.

“Are you?” Nezu asks back evenly, eyes tracking over the boy and instantly compiling details and facts as he takes in the tattered school uniform, the pale face, the singed backpack and the bruises he can see just peeking out from beneath unseasonal long sleeves.

Everything about the boy screams battered to Nezu’s sense.

And then he looks down at his feet and sees his shoes.

His distinctive red shoes at that, vibrant in color and thick soled, subtly different in make and construction than most ordinary shoes seen these days, much like the footwear Nezu himself wears even now.

Which means that this boy either has a quirk that affects his feet or ...

“Thought you were going to get away didn’t you, you Quirkless fuck?” A small group of boys rounds the corner then, ignoring Nezu entirely and focusing on the boy who abruptly goes even paler somehow. “Just cause sensei couldn’t prove you cheated doesn’t mean we’re gonna let you get away with it.”

Ah, Nezu thinks even as he presses the urge to snarl down and away, option two then.

The green boy, because Nezu will not be calling him Deku even in his own mind, scrambled up onto his feet then. But, surprisingly enough, he doesn’t turn to run.

Instead he edges forward just a bit, sliding a shoulder and a foot forward until he’s standing almost protectively in front of Nezu himself.

“K-Kacchan,” the green one stutters, “I-I didn’t cheat I s-swear! I wouldn’t d-do that.”

“Tsk,” the blond leader, Kacchan, tisks then, a snarl thick and heavy on his young face. At his sides his hands flex in a move Nezu knows must be related to his quirk. “Bullshit. No way you’d get top of the class in anything without cheating, you worm.”

Nezu has known this child for roughly 6 seconds and he finds that he does not care for him at all. But then he’s never been overly fond of most of humanity either so perhaps that’s to be expected.

“H-Heroes don’t cheat,” Green insists, the naïve if well meant words sounding like a declaration. “If I’m g-going to be a hero then I c-can’t either.”

That explanation only seems to enrage Kacchan even further if the way his hands begin to pop and crackle is anything to go by.

This, Nezu knows as the scent of burnt caramel begins to fill the air around them, is going to escalate quickly.

“Public quirk usage is ~illegal~,” Nezu singsongs as he steps around the green boy and plants himself firmly in front of him instead, abruptly drawing the blond boy and his followers attention toward him. One paw slips into his vest pocket to remove the specially designed cell phone he’s never without. “I would hate to be forced to report this to the proper authorities.”

Never mind that, technically, he is the proper authorities.

The blond glares at him for a long moment before he huffs.

“This isn’t over Deku,” he snarls. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

It’s an obvious threat but the boy turns on his heel, shoves his way through his friends, and stalks off back around the corner in the direction he came.

So Nezu lets it go. For now.

“Now that that has been handled for the moment, young man,” Nezu turns towards the green boy beside him with all of the showmanship that’s come to define his patented introduction, “let me introduce myself! Am I a dog, a rat, or a bear? Either way I am Nezu th-”

“Y-You’re the Intel Hero Nezu,” the green boy says brightly, cutting Nezu’s introduction off even as he rubs raw and bloody palms against his black slacks and starts to dig through his backpack, “You solved the H-Hanamura kidnapping and the Inugami murders! You’re one of my favorite heroes!”

Nezu can’t help the way he stalls out just a bit at that because ... well he’s never been anyone’s favorite anything. Their nightmare yes but not their favorite. Especially not a child. Children around this age normally tend to have more simplistic reactions to him. And most of them don’t know about the string of rather gruesome ritualistic homicides he’d solved or the high profile kidnapping cases he consults on in his down time.

“C-Can you please sign my notebook?” the boy says then, head bowed low and a notebook and pen held out in Nezu’s direction.

Nezu admits to being slightly intrigued when he sees the way the cover is labeled Hero Analysis For The Future Vol 8.

That intrigue only grows when he opens it and his attention is immediately captured by the rather impressively done sketch of Pro Hero Starstreak that he finds there.

Unable to help himself Nezu reads over the page quickly and then keeps going.

Well now, Nezu can’t help but think just a bit gleefully as he sees the absolutely unbelieve level of analysis this young, quirkless boy has compiled, isn’t this interesting.

#BnHA #Anonymous #RayRambles #The Principal's Unexpected Protege AU

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 years

Text

Asano/F!Darling: Unconventional Methods (II)

TW: Dub/noncon, boss/employee, virginity kink

____ blinked and swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat as her boss held her chin up. He was touching her so intimately when the most he'd done before this is MAYBE place a hand on her shoulder once or twice. And now he was telling her to kiss him? "I...Sir?"

"This is part of the lesson," Asano insisted. "Encouraging that natural obedience in a situation more stressful than you're used to. I warned you that this teaching method would give you some discomfort." She shifted awkwardly and he gently pressed his fingers against her skin. "Think of it as a kind of exposure therapy."

____ felt the push of his hand and tried to fight the urge to slap him away and run out of the room. This was just part of his teaching method. She's supposed to be uncomfortable, that was the whole point of this, wasn't it? "This won't get us in trouble, will it? I mean...Kunugigaoka's policy on displays of affection between faculty--"

"As the creator and enforcer of that policy, I'll make an exception for the purposes of your education," Asano replied coolly. "I appreciate your dedication to the school's rules, but I believe your development is more important. You and your potential are more important."

____'s face flushed at his compliment. He was going so far just to help her. And it was such a small request; once she did it, he'd see that she could fight through that discomfort and learn from him. She placed a hand on Asano's forearm and stood a bit higher to reach him as she gave him a quick and timid peck with her lips against his cheek. Immediately she tried to back away, starting to apologize even if he had been the one to suggest it; to her surprise he pulled her back in for a lingering kiss to her lips while she stared wide-eyed as he embraced her. When he finally pulled away, ____ immediately covered her face with her hands. "Ahhhh-this-is-so-inappropriate," she said, her words an anxious blur. "I'm so sorry sir, even with your permission I just...I can't stop apologizing." She let out a breathless laugh. "I'm sorry--Mmp!"

Asano took her wrists and kissed her again while moving one of her hands and placing it on his chest. He pulled away and couldn't keep his eyes off of the smeared lip gloss that blurred and smudged her mouth. "We'll need to keep pushing your boundaries until you realize you don't need to apologize for listening to me," he said, wiping the gloss off his own lips. "Ah, I know." He took her by the wrist and walked her to the edge of his desk. "Sit here."

"I might wrinkle your papers--"

"Sit."

____ felt her knees buckle from just how quickly she set herself down onto the mahogany table. Asano put his hands on either side of her shoulders against the table and looked down at her. "From now on, when I tell you to do something you're going to do it without making any excuses not to. If it's to train you, I couldn't care less about any policies or wrinkled papers. Understand?"

____ bit the inside of her lip as she nodded. She really wasn't trying to weasel out of this, but even if it was supposed to make her feel this way she was so uncomfortable. How couldn't she be? This entire lesson was centered around pushing her boundaries and they were both being so PHYSICAL with each other. "Yes," she replied quietly.

Asano placed his hand on top of her blouse and quickly unfastened the first few buttons before she could react. "Good," he said in a soothing voice. "This will be much more effective when you follow my orders directly." She shivered a bit at the cool air against her now-exposed skin and from how close Asano's fingers were to her breasts and collarbone. "Next, I'm going to ask you a few questions. Just like what we're doing now, you're going to be uncomfortable answering them. But you're going to push through it and answer truthfully."

____ nodded and felt one of his hands move to the hem of her skirt. "Are you a virgin?"

____ wished she could cover herself or find a hole to crawl into as Asano finished unbuttoning her blouse and looked down at her breasts and bare stomach. "I've been, um...touched before," she said, wishing her voice would stop wobbling and that she wasn't about to cry in front of her boss. "From o-oral sex and with hands."

"Never with a penis or strap-on?"

____ never thought she'd hear Asano use the word "strap-on" in her entire life. She shook her head. "I've sucked one before," she admitted, refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead. "But...um..." She started to tear up and sniffled softly. "My ex-boyfriend said I wasn't really good at it." She let out a small pathetic cross between a laugh and a sob. "I couldn't keep it down as long as he wanted."

Asano narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips slightly. Part of him had hoped she'd be completely untouched and inexperienced, but he did like that she'd never been penetrated by anything other than some fumbling idiot's hands and tongue. Someone who would complain about her lack of ability without even trying to train her to be better. "I see," he mused. "If that's the case, I won't penetrate you any time soon. I'm a bit short on time for this lesson either way." He glanced at the clock hanging on the other side of the wall; his next meeting was in about an hour and so was ____'s next class assignment. But he'd have plenty of opportunities to train her further, and he was a patient man when he needed to be.

Asano moved his hands and flipped her skirt up to reveal her underwear. It was a nice pair, with lace trim and a silky fabric that felt pleasant to the touch. "Tell me where you're most sensitive." He brushed the knuckles of his index and middle fingers against the inside of her thigh and chuckled when she bucked her hips up at the sudden touch. "Where do you put your hands when you touch yourself?"

A few tears fell down ____'s cheeks as he laughed. This was mortifying. Couldn't there be another way to push her boundaries? Why did it have to be so physical and invasive like this? She was somewhat okay with being uncomfortable, but the way he was touching her and ordering her to talk about her virginity on his desk made her feel so dirty. "I...I, um..." She sniffled again and wiped the tears off of her cheeks. "Usually I have one hand on my breasts." She placed one hand on the pad of her bra. "But when I...I touch myself, I actually use a...a t-toy." She squeezed her thighs and tried to turn away from Asano out of shame; he immediately turned her back to face him and moved her thighs apart with one hand. She whimpered and looked up at him with reddened pleadjng eyes. "Sir, I know this is s-supposed to be uncomfortable but I...I d-don't think I can do this anymore. Not today, please? Could we stop for n-now--"

"No." Asano promptly cut her off and shoved one hand underneath her bra to harshly grope her. She cried out and started to sob, but he immediately clamped his other hand over her mouth. "I warned you beforehand that this was about pushing past your boundaries. You have no right to complain about something I already made VERY clear." He sighed through his nose and the look of disappointment and irritation on his face nearly broke ____'s heart. "If you're getting too hysterical to answer me, I'll just find your sensitive places on my own. Just do your best to stay quiet until you've calmed down a bit."

Asano moved one of her hands to where he'd been touching her breast. "Move your bra out of the way and play with your breasts," he ordered. "Maybe keeping your hands occupied will help you." She reluctantly complied and massaged her chest, rolling and thumbing over her already-peaked nipples.

Asano watched the goosebumps on her skin rise and gave her an approving nod while dragged one finger over the damp spot lining her panties as it clung to the outline of her cunt. ____ gasped softly and he saw her hole twitch and clench around the fabric covering it. Asano moved his fingers up and when he circled the pad of his thumb over her clit she moaned while her hips moved on their own accord again. Her body rocked gently in time with his movements, and Asano sighed pleasurably when he felt the tip of her tongue against his palm from how she gasped and tilted her head back. He could only imagine how nice it would feel when he'd trained her to use that velvet tongue on his cock and how to take all of him with a smile. By the time he was done she would be thanking him for teaching her to be an obedient little cocksleeve and abandon all desires to be anything else. That was all she needed to be.

Soon her hips were rocking faster and faster, making the legs of the mahogany desk squeak as he played with her. He slipped one finger inside of her tight cunt and then one more, and the way she'd clenched around him immediately while she moaned and sobbed quietly against his hand left him nice and hard as he kissed and nipped her neck and earlobes. "You're close?"

____ nodded shakily and whined a small "yeah" into his palm. Asano circled his fingers around her sensitive bundle of nerves faster and faster while ____ squealed and her thighs started to quake and spasm. "Since this is your first lesson, I'll let you cum this time," he said. His gaze darkened as he moved her to look into his eyes. "From now on, if you don't follow my instructions without coming up with an excuse or you try to quit halfway through, you'll need to be disciplined. Now...show me how much you appreciate my efforts."

Asano watched ____'s eyes roll back as she came, shuddering and sobbing. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth again and touched his palm while some of her arousal ran down his fingers onto his jacket sleeve. He looked at her quaking hips and saw that she'd even managed to drip onto his desk. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing went back to normal, and soon she was staring up at Asano with half-lidded eyes. He moved his hand from her mouth and wiped a bit of her saliva and tears from her cheek. "You've done very well," he said, smiling down at her. "There's just one thing left to do, and you can get back to work." He showed her his fingers, still glistening with her juices. "Clean this up for me."

____ sniffled and nodded, but when she tried to dry his hands with her blouse's sleeve he stopped her. "Your mouth," he corrected. She paused for just one moment before taking his slender fingers into her mouth. When her tongue swirled over his fingertips, Asano had to fight to keep himself from shoving them further into her mouth and hiking her legs in the air to fuck her right then and there. He moved his hand back and gently brushed a wild piece of hair behind her ear. "Excellent." He guided her up into a sitting position to fix her bra, button her blouse, and then helped her walk to the door out of his office. "I'll let you know when it's time for our next session," he said. "Some time next week, just so you have some time to recover a bit and reflect on what you've learned."

She gave a shaky nod and kept her eyes on the ground as she shuffled out into the hallway, tugging at the bottom of her skirt and smoothing it down. Asano shut the door and pulled a small handkerchief out of his coat's breast pocket to clean what was still left on his desk. Normally he would have made her lick that up as well, but he wanted to be a bit lenient with his "student" on her first day.

She deserved a bit of mercy and reprieve before he really started to break her in.

#.myshit #tw: manipulation #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #.assassination classroom #yandere assassination classroom #yandere asano #.asano #fem darling #asano's Darling

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blu-joons · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction: When Your Child Says Their First Word

Jin:

“Appa, can you say appa for me baby, please?”

You smiled watching as Jin sat your daughter down in front of him, sounding out the sounds for her to speak, he sighed, watching as her mouth stayed shut.

You chuckled, walking over to sit beside him, “you can’t force her to say something she doesn’t want to, she’s a baby Jin.”

“But I want her to call me,” he groaned, rolling his eyes as she giggled, telling the frustrations in her father made things worse.

“She’ll get there,” you assured him, “you’ve been practicing with her, so it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it Y/D/N?”

“Eomma.”

Your eyes widened, looking across at Jin who sighed in despair. “Seriously! All the time I taught you appa, and eomma is your first word, that’s not fair.”

Your arms wrapped around her, raising her high into the air. “I always knew that I was your favourite parent, you’re such a smart girl.”

Jin’s head shook, “I can’t believe I’ve been betrayed like this,” he frowned, “appa better be her second word or I’ll be gutted.”

“You better get her practicing then.”

Yoongi:

“I think it’s about time you went to bed.”

Yoongi followed your son as he crawled around, yawning his head off as he waited for one of you to take him off to bed so that he could sleep.

You smiled, watching him scoop him up, “sleep,” he giggled, tickling his waist, “is it about time that Y/S/N went to sleep.”

“I think we should sleep too,” you sighed, standing up from the sofa, “he’s had me running around the house all day, I’m exhausted.”

“Do you think mummy and daddy should go to bed too?” He asked your son, grinning widely as his smile grew.

“Sleep.”

Both of you froze, listening to him repeat the word a couple of times, “Y/N, was that his first word? Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“No, I really think sleep was his first word,” you chuckled, resting into Yoongi’s side, “you’ve obviously taught him well in that case.”

Yoongi smirked, kissing the top of his son’s head, “it’s definitely time we put you to sleep, you’ve had a very successful day.”

“I can’t believe he just said his first word.”

Hoseok:

“E. G. O. Ego. Can you say it for me baby?”

Your eyes rolled as soon as you walked into the kitchen watching as Hobi encouraged your daughter to speak whilst feeding her dinner to her.

You sat down beside them both, “you’re going to have to teach her softer sounds first, that’s hard for her to understand.”

“She just needs to practice,” he assured you, meeting his daughter’s eyes as her lips parted, staring across at him.

“She looks like she wants to say something,” you noted, joining him by her side, watching her smile grow, holding closely onto her toy.

“Ego.”

Both of you turned to look at each other, the sounds were loose, but it was clear to you both what she had said. “I knew she’d do it if I helped her out.”

You chuckled, as Hobi scooped her up into his arms, “I can’t believe you got her to do that, clearly she has her favourite parent already.”

“She’s the best,” he chimed, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “I’m so proud, she actually just said her first word, did you hear?”

“I did, I can’t believe it was ego.”

Namjoon:

“Something really special happened today, have a look.”

You held your phone up to the laptop screen, showing a video you’d taken of your son. “He looks so grown up; I wish I could be there.”

“You wait until you watch this,” you told him, pressing play on the video as you followed your son around the house.

“I’m watching,” Namjoon told you as he leaned into the camera to watch closely, watching as his son’s mouth opened wide.

“Appa.”

He froze, as you replayed it a couple of times to hear it clearly. “Someone must be missing their daddy, it was his first word Joon, he wanted to ask for you!”

He frowned, shaking his head as tears brimmed in his eyes, “I can’t believe I missed my son’s first word, what sort of father does that make me?”

You sighed, “you can’t help being away. You know when he grows up, 0he’ll be so proud of all that you’ve achieved Joon.”

“I hope he still says it when I come home.”

Jimin:

“Say hello to everyone then sweetheart.”

The boys’ eyes lit up as Jimin walked into the studio with your daughter in his arms. Each of them rushed around, holding onto a part of her body.

Namjoon smiled widely, “she’s getting so big, it’s scary sometimes how much she’s growing,” he commented, watching as you nodded in agreement.

Jimin grinned, waving her hand, “are you going to say hello to everyone?” He asked, hearing her little giggles echo in response.

“Say hello to us,” Taehyung cooed, taking a hold of her hand, “show mummy and daddy that we’re your favourites after all.”

“Hi.”

The room erupted into cheers as the squeak of her voice spoke for the very first time. “She actually said hello!” Jungkook laughed, pressing his palms together.

Jimin’s eyes met yours, “I can’t believe she said her first word for these six idiots and not for us, it’s not fair.”

Your head shook, “let’s just enjoy the fact she said her first word rather than getting jealous of these boys for now.”

“I’ll never get her to say appa now.”

Taehyung:

“And these are all of daddy’s fans, they’re the best.”

You walked into your son’s bedroom, finding him sat in Taehyung’s lap looking through an old scrapbook Taehyung had, pointing out to all of the fans.

Your frame perched on the end of the bed, looking at what he was showing him. “It’s going to be a long time until he really realises what all this is.”

“I’m teaching him,” Taehyung chuckled, “I’ve been trying to get him to say army for a while, I always said I would.”

“I’ve been listening,” you giggled, capturing your son’s attention. “Y/S/N, do you know what all of daddy’s fans are called?”

“A-army.”

The book was dropped, Taehyung picked your son up, twirling him around the room, “I always knew you’d say it if I taught you for long enough.”

Your head shook in disbelief, you knew how much Taehyung dreamed of this moment, but never did you think it would happen.

His smile had never been so wide, “If army is the only word he can speak for the rest of his life, I’ll still be a happy man.”

“Army really is everything to you, isn’t it?”

Jungkook:

“Look who’s here to say hello, fresh from a nap.”

You lifted your daughter up so that Jungkook could see her on the screen, waving as she tried to grab through the screen to take a hold of his hand.

Jungkook’s smile grew, waving to his little girl, “hi baby,” he cooed, only wishing the screen wasn’t between the two of them.

“Who is it?” You chuckled, bouncing her in your lap, hearing her light giggles. Jungkook’s heart broke, knowing you were so far away.

“Y/D/N!” Jungkook shouted to get her attention, making several funny faces on the screen to try and make her giggle.

“Appa.”

You looked as she repeated the word one more time, tapping against Jungkook’s head on the screen. “Did I hear her right? Or is the connection dodgy?”

“No, you heard her right,” you quickly told him, looking at her innocent smile, unaware of quite what she had just done.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, being so far away from the two of you. “I can’t wait to hear her say that in person.”

“We can’t wait for that either Kook.”

---

Masterlist

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our-heroes-rise · 4 years

Text

slip of the tongue

pairing: todoroki x bilingual! reader

request: Hi, I want to request a scenario for Todoroki. It’s about a reader who is actually his gf, but she talks portuguese as maternal language. When she got nervous, she start to panic in Portuguese, and she’s nervous to meet Shoto’s mom. How he will help her( something like that). I hope you like this idea. 🇧🇷🇧🇷✌🏻✌🏻

hero name: @todoroki-vivian

a/n: hi, lovely! omg yes, you can aboslutely have a todoroki request, i adore this boy. and i loved this idea so much! it was so darn cute. as someone of mixed race who grew up with a heavily hispanic family i think it’s always fun to imagine bringing home one of the bnha boys/girls. seeing how they’d react to be introduced to the sort of music, food, and p a r t i e s that i grew up with. i’d be completely useless teaching them any g o o d spanish though cause my mother never taught me when i was a kid :’). i only know a couple of phrases and the bad words lol. i don’t touch on any of that here because i’m not too familiar with portuguese culture and i don’t want to offend anyone by getting something wrong because i am uneducated on the subjectttt. there’s only like two words of real portuguese in here and they are from google translate because i wasn’t sure what the difference was between the spanish pronunciation and the portuguese pronunciation. OKAY after that whole thing i hope you enjoy this little scenario, i had a lot of fun writing it and it was super duper cute. thanks for requesting baby hero!

word count: 1,717

warnings: none! this is all fluff :)

Your knee bounced with the subtle rocking of the train cart, heel occasionally tapping against the floor when the wheels ran over a bump in the tracks. No matter how hard you tried, no amount of slow deep breaths or mental reminders that everything would be fine, it would go well, would calm the ever growing bundle of nerves buzzing within the pit of your stomach. It crawled beneath your skin, flinching at the tips of your fingers which picked at the worn plastic seal of your seat, pinched at your bottom lip.

You watched the blur of winter barren trees whirl past the window, not really watching at all, thinking of every way not to mess up this very important day. This very, very important day on which absolutely nothing could go wrong because this was - it was his -

A comforting warmth pressed into your shoulder, calloused fingers wiggling their way through the gaps between yours, bringing a halt to your incessant fidgeting. Striking blue and grey find your gaze, softened by the unspoken question of concern knotting his brows.

What’s wrong?

“I’m just - It’s dumb, really,” you laugh softly, able to recognize how terribly ridiculous you would sound now that the words sit at the front of your mind. “I’m just overthinking things. I’m okay.” For extra reassurance, you give his hand a small squeeze, offering a smile.

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to buy it.

“You’re not okay if something’s worrying you,” Todoroki says, head dipping to catch your eyes as you try to look away to hide your apprehension. “It might help if you talk about it.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth once again, a soft sigh blows through nose, and you lean further into his shoulder, grateful for the gentle heat that bleeds through your jacket sleeve, soothing your nerves. You drop your attention to the spot where your fingers are now intertwined sitting atop his thigh, his thumb tracing over the ridges of your knuckles, saying he’s content to wait for as long as you need.

Well, at least until the arrival of your last stop where you would inevitably have to step off the train and face the anxiety tearing through your head.

It’ll be fine, stop worrying so much. It’ll be fine, it will be fine, it will be -

“What if she doesn’t like me?” You blurt suddenly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as the eyes of a few curious strangers flicker over to you. Your face sinks further into the protective cocoon of your scarf.

His thumb pauses briefly before picking up its mindless pattern again. “What do you - ?”

“I - I mean, what if I say something wrong and end up sounding really stupid in front of her.” And the dam came crumbling down. “Your mother. The - like - the most important person in your life! I’d end up making a fool of myself in front of the most important person in your life. Then she might think ‘what’s Shoto even see in her? he could do so much better’. Which, you could, by the way. You could do worlds better but you’ve settled for me and sometimes I don’t really get it because - well - I’m me - “

“I don’t see a problem with that. I like you for you and if you are what settling is then I will gladly never settle anywhere else.”

“But what if she - “ your fingers tighten around him at the thought “- what if she doesn’t think I’m good enough for you? What if she thinks we should break up because she thinks I’m rude and annoying and uneducated?”

“Uhm. . . Y/n.”

“What if she thinks I’m a bad influence on you? I don’t want to make her hate me forever, that would be the worst feeling ever because I know she means so much to you.”

“Y/n. . .”

“That would just put so much strain on our relationship and I wouldn’t want you to feel guilty about what happened, ever. You don’t deserve that. You deserve so much better than that, Sho. I just - “

“Meu Amor.”

The name strikes a chord in your throat, catching you breathless, butterflies swooping in to replace the recoiling knot in your stomach. You whip your head around to find the corners of Todoroki’s lips pulling up in a small fond smile, eyes light with amusement. To begin with, Todoroki wasn’t big on pet names, preferring to use your given name, claiming it was sweeter than any silly nickname could be. Though throughout the seven and a half months you two had been together, he had referred to you with the occasional ‘love’ or ‘hon’. However, the number of times he had used that name could be counted on one hand.

Three. It was three times including right now.

He asked you how to say it while you were teaching him random phrases, goofing around in the middle of what was supposed to be a study session, the question being enough to make your face burn. His pronunciation had been rocky the first time, mouth working awkwardly around the words, throwing you into a fit of flustered giggles that had him pouting adorably at you, mumbling not to make fun of him for trying. But, now? Now his near perfect pronunciation left you wondering how many times he had practiced by himself.

Meu Amor was the Portuguese phrase for My Love. His love. His love.

“Y-Yeah?” It’s at that very moment that realize you have slipped out of your usual Japanese tongue, rolling through the tumbling hill syllables of your maternal language. “Oh, s-sorry. I. . . I did the thing again,” you mutter, flipping back to Japanese.

Todoroki huffs a short laugh that makes your heart flutter pleasantly as the sound reverberates through your own chest. “It’s okay, I think I got the gist of what you were saying. It’s cute when you do that, anyway.” He says the last part softly, meant for himself. You press your cheeks further into your scarf, hiding your own shy smile.

Todoroki takes a minute to speak, gazing at the same window you were just a moment ago, lost in thought.

“Y/n,” he finally says. “Meu Amor, -” four times “- frankly, my mother could care less about who you are. I think you could introduce yourself as a high school drop out with a criminal record and her main concern would still be; do we make each other happy? Do you make me happy.”

You allow yourself to absorb the impact of his words.

“And. . . I make you happy?”

He shoots you an incredulous glance, then snorts when he sees you peaking earnestly above the edge of your scarf. “Irrevocably so. Do I make you happy?”

“It’s impossible for me to think about you without smiling.” You give him a bright cheeky grin when his cheeks flare with a noticeable shade of scarlet that crawls all the way up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Good. Then that’s more than enough.” He squeezes your hand, pulling you closer into his side. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind that she won’t absolutely adore you the same way I do once she meets you. If she doesn’t already, of course.”

The statement piques your curiosity and you arch one brow at him. “What do you mean if she doesn’t already? Have you. . . Told her about me already -- In your letters to her?”

“I thought you already knew that,” Todoroki says, frowning in confusion. “She’s always asking about you and how you’re doing. I was pretty sure I mentioned it before.”

“What the heck? Shoto you’ve never told me that!”

“Oh.”

“So - So then she’s okay with us being together?”

“I think she’s more than okay with it,” he replies, his quiet smile returning. “It’s possible that she’s more excited than I am for you to meet her, which would be saying something.”

“That would have been nice to know before I rambled off the entire Portuguese dictionary to the whole train,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, but it sounds like he’s trying to suppress another laugh. And you really can’t stay upset with him for long.

Rough fingertips push gently at the tips of yours to splay your palm out over his, pressing them together. Lightly you run your nails down the long runs of his fingers, memorizing every bump, scratch, and scar, sweeping your forefinger along the wrinkle of his lifeline, then across his heart line. This - the way you were touching him - may not seem like much at all to anyone else, but it was worth worlds to you. It had taken Todoroki months to comfortably hold your hand, even longer while in public, then some to kiss you for the first time. PDA wasn’t what bothered him (not entirely, at least), it was the displays of affection part. Because of the way he grew up, physical affection was a foreign concept, often leaving him lost and a mess of rigid limbs and awkward apologies. But now, he could easily seek your hand in the middle of a crowded train, or wrap his arm around you in the common room, or press a kiss to the top of your head before the start of class. To know that he had made an effort to open himself up to you, allowing you to see this side of him, the side he had only shared with his mother before, made your heart melt and your eyes swim.

Shoto was right, this was more than enough.

A calm voice announces the arrival of your stop and you two stand as passengers begin to climb off the train.

“Still nervous?” Todoroki asks, threading his fingers through yours once more now that you have both stepped into the morning rush, not wanting to lose you amongst the chaos.

Letting him guide you through the thick crowd, you smile softly, raising your conjoined hands to press your lips to the back of his.

This would always be more than enough.

“No, I think I’ll be okay now.”

#todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha todoroki

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dontshootmespence · 4 years

Text

Through It All

Part 29

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,728

Warnings: Pegging, scratching, handjob.

A/N: The next entry for @cm-kinkbingo run by my beautiful girlfriend @heycasbutt. This fulfills my pegging square.

After what feels like an eternity (but is actually only a couple of days), you settle on your babies’ names: Morgan Diana and Blake Xing. Charlotte’s new room is all set up and you’re able to get started on the nursery for the babies. Well, adding to it. The Winnie the Pooh theme is something you still love and want to stick with, but you need double the crib space and double the dresser space, so as the weeks go by you add to their wardrobes with the help of family and friends.

Between Spence’s teaching, your job, parenting a toddler and getting ready to bring in not one, but two newborns, life takes on a well- life all its own. Through it all, Spence manages to keep you grounded, not always through sex, though you’ve been more than willing to be ‘at his disposal’ amidst the craziness. Aside from sex, he picks your outfits out every day, even down to what makeup you wear. He plans your weekly dates, down to finding friends and family to babysit Charlotte to carefully choosing where you’ll go and what you’ll do. He insists that you spend five minutes a day cuddling in bed just so you have time to breath.

You wonder whether he’s been able to breathe.

How Charlotte’s more than two years old now is beyond you. The time has gone by in such a way that you’ve been climbing up a mountain and sliding down it simultaneously, but after she’s in bed one night, just a few short weeks before the twins are supposed to arrive, you ask him how he’s feeling.

“What?” Spencer asks, a little taken off guard.

Grasping his hand, you maneuver yourself so you’re sitting in his lap facing him. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. Are you okay?”

Spencer closes his eyes and leans forward pressing the most chaste of kisses on your lips. “I’m a little overwhelmed. Nervous as all hell about parenting three kids under the age of three in less than a month. But I’m just focusing all that energy on you.” His hand slides up the soft cotton tank you’re wearing to bed.

Coasting your fingertips along his torso and underneath his chin, you tip his head up so his gaze meets yours. “Do you need to, or want to let go for a night?”

He allows his resolve to slip away for a moment. “Yea,” he whispers, lips full below his hooded gaze. “I think I’d like that.”

Smiling, you trail your lips along the side of his neck and wash your tongue over his pulse point, relishing in the sign that escapes him. It’s so rare that you’re the one in control, and you do prefer it that way, but it makes these moments even more heady that usual in an entirely different way. “Remember a while back, when we talked about me pegging you?”

By the glint in his eye you can tell he remembers and he’s willing, but you ask anyway. “Be gentle with me,” he chuckles softly.

“Always. What’s our word?”

Your whisper is featherlight, as is his reply.

Watching in awe as his control slips into your hands, you instruct him to undress and get on all fours while you go digging for some toys. Months back you’d bought a smaller strap-on in the event you got to do this. You weren’t about to use the kind he’s used on you. That’s thicker and a little intimidating for someone who’s never done this before. Instead, you pull out a thinner, short strap-on and a bottle of lube, throwing both on the bed behind Spencer’s cute little ass. He’s trying to steady his breathing. He’s definitely nervous, but he stays where he is. It’s one of the few times in your relationships he’s more than willing to flip the script.

“Relax, Spence. I’ve done my research.”

He chuckles and starts to relax as you strip and crawl onto the mattress behind him. Slipping the strap-on around your waist, you smile to yourself. Wielding the power on occasion is pretty fun.

In preparation for whenever this moment came around, you’ve been keeping your nails short. You squirt some lube into your palm and slicken one finger specifically. Doing this with your hands first is not really ideal, but you’re not about to start him off with a strap-on.

“I’m gonna start with a couple fingers first. You tell me when you’re ready for more.”

He doesn’t respond out loud. He just nods his head, but you allow it, pressing the tip of your pointer finger against his ass. You motion slowly, adding lube when necessary and suddenly slip past the tight ring. “Oh.” Spencer says. “That’s, um, wow.”

“Good wow?”

“Good wow.”

Watching how he reacts, you move your finger back and forth, taking in how his breath heaves and his balls tighten in anticipation. As soft moans leave him, his front half folding down into the bed, you introduce your second finger and chuckle to yourself when his eyes widen. “Honestly, I wasn't sure I was going to like this,” he says, swallowing thickly. “But I do. I really do.”

As you continue to move, hooking your finger randomly to see what he likes and what he doesn’t, you keep him talking. When he’s talking, at least with you, he’s much more relaxed. You ask him what he feels, where he enjoys the pressure. The right side gets him more than the left and the deeper the better. “Do you think you’re ready for more? It’s okay if you aren’t,” you add quickly.

His face is flushed red. So rare for him in this capacity. You love it.

“Yea, I think I am.”

“Good boy.”

While you lube up the strap-on with one hand, you rake your fingers down his back and across his ass. Pinkish marks appear a second in the wake of your fingers and Spencer hisses when you scratch across his ass.

Just as before, you slowly press the tip of the strap on against him, but there isn’t as much resistance as before. Still, you make sure to take it slow, helping him to relax by bending over him to reach around and grab his cock, stroking softly until you’ve eased in. “How’s that feel, love?”

He swallows hard before he’s able to respond. “Full.”

You giggle because you can tell. Even the strap-on isn’t a part of you, you can feel it move as he tightens around it. “You okay if I move?”

“Yes,” he says assuredly.

With all the grace you can muster (which admittedly isn’t much), you begin to thrust and revel in the way he groans. Pivoting to the right, you feel him tremble. Underneath the strap-on, you can tell how wet you are. Even though physically there isn’t much stimulation, Spencer’s reactions leave your breaths heavy and your movements slightly erratic at best. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that underneath you, Spencer is huffing and groaning. His body is slick with sweat. His tongue keeps coming out to wash over his bottom lip. His eyes are fluttering closed.

For the first time in a long time, he’s letting go - and watching that happen - that’s what’s getting to you.

“Fuck, Y/N, I-”

“Shh,” you whisper. “I’ve got you.” As you move, your thrusts and rolls become slightly more practiced, allowing you to return to the gentle strokes you were giving his cock before. With each thrust, you stroke your hand down the length and him and rub circles on the head of his cock with your finger.

Spencer starts bucking into your hand, a string of expletives leaving his mouth as he begs you for release. But you don’t give it to him. Not yet. He wanted to lose himself for a bit so you’re going to make it happen. “Not yet, Spence. Almost. I promise.”

You start to lose control yourself, simultaneously wanting to watch him unravel and keep on a string for as long as possible. When you finally can’t take it anymore, you scratch your teeth along his back and coax him into letting go. “It’s okay, Spence. Come for me. Let go.”

With your permission, his eyes shoot open and his body takes a hold of itself like it barely has any connection to his brain. He thrusts down into your hand and back into you at the same time, groaning as he does so. Each one long and drawn out. It’s like every buck and wave of his lithe form is his body’s way of giving his mind permission to let go.

“Oh, fuck!” He grits his teeth as he explodes into your hand and onto his stomach.

Careful not to hurt him, you ease out and undo the ties around your waist so you can toss it aside until later. His shockwaves subside and you collapse at his side. “How’re you feeling, Sir?”

He’s still a little shaky, buck naked and face down in the sheets, but he smiles and pulls you to his side. “Good. Really good. I mean, wow. Didn’t expect to like it that much.”

“Me either.”

“Yea?”

“Yea, I mean I didn’t orgasm or anything but just watching you lose it and knowing I was the cause. Fuck, that was just as good.”

“Welcome to my world, babe.” He waits a moment, settling himself into the sheets. “Can we just pass out here? I’ll help you clean up in the morning.”

“Yea,” you laugh, pulling at the thin sheet sitting on top of the fitted sheet. “Might wanna toss this to the side though. Don’t wanna get crusty.”

Spencer laughs out loud. “Sex is gross.”

“Yea it is.”

“Good thing it’s fun.”

---

In the following days, you catch up with Ai and Kyle; she tells you that none of her shirts fit anymore so she’s flashing midriff like a 90s popstar. And she’s in a hell of a lot of pain considering her center of gravity is royally fucked with two full grown babies walking around in there. But otherwise she’s okay.

“I just can’t wait to get these babies out of me,” she laughs. “I want to meet them. I want you to meet them. I’m just-

“Ai, you okay?”

“My water just broke.”

“Spence, it’s baby time!”

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1 @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid @lazynoodledragon @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97 @grace-superpowers @softestlavender @ssa-dr-ladylock @drprettyboy @patricks-fabulous-face @tearosaria @shxdowofdarkness @marvels-gurl @gublergirls

#through it all #the most natural thing in the world #dontshootmespence #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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august-anon · 4 years

Text

Beauty in Strength

Hey hey, here’s that Witcher fic, the scar-tracing idea came from @inconveniently-placed-cactus. I hope y’all enjoy

(Also, I know Foltest's sister that had the striga child was named Adda and I don't think they ever said so in show/book (but who knows I have a bad memory lol), BUT if you play Witcher 1 you meet that striga girl again, a young woman now, and Foltest had creepily chosen to name her Adda as well. So that's why it's "Adda's scar" in the fic, instead of just "the scar from the striga girl." Also, she's nuts, lol. Tried to have me killed lol)

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship(s): Geraskier (Geralt/Jaskier)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier

Word Count: 2271 words

Summary: Jaskier's found a new game: brushing against scars and asking after them. If only it wasn't so ticklish when he did so.

[ao3 link]

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

The first touch startled Geralt.

He had stepped out of the bath and into his small clothes and had sat on the bed to dig through his bag for something at least somewhat clean (or, at least, not currently soaked in harpy guts and goop) when he heard Jaskier shuffle up behind him. He assumed the bard was simply preparing for bed himself, so he paid little mind to the sounds and the shifting of the bed. He very nearly lunged for his sword at the first feather-light touch on his shoulder, against an old scar.

“What’s this one from?” Jaskier said gently.

Geralt settled his nerves and cleared his throat. “Don’t know if I recall.”

“Come, now,” Jaskier said, a playful lilt to his for-once quiet voice. “Surely you must remember.”

His fingers traced around the raised skin before gently dancing along it, and continued to repeat that pattern. Geralt found the room suddenly oddly warm and was grateful, not for the first time, for the fact that witchers were unable to blush. There was also an odd fluttering feeling in his stomach that he knew he must’ve felt once or twice, what felt like lifetimes ago, but no longer had the name to describe.

“Must I?” Geralt asked, finally pulling a shirt from his bag.

Jaskier huffed and Geralt knew he was discontent. His fingers vanished briefly from his shoulder, but reappeared at the back of his ribs, tracing three long, raised scars. Geralt had to hold his breath to keep in his gasp, but he couldn’t stop the involuntary twitch of his skin under Jaskier’s ministrations. He fumbled and dropped the shirt.

“What about this one?”

Geralt cleared his throat again, worried he’d be unable to speak if he didn’t. “Werewolf. Few years back.”

Jaskier hummed. He dragged a single finger around each claw mark before laying his fingers over them in the shape of a claw once more and dragging his hand back and forth, back and forth. Geralt’s breath was coming out in quiet puffs and if Jaskier continued in that spot, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control himself. The urge to squirm, to give in and chuckle, was becoming overwhelming.

Luckily, Jaskier seemed satisfied with the information he got and his hand lifted from the scar. His hand then touched down low down on his back, just behind his hip, and Geralt couldn’t help the minute flinch at the unknowingly teasing touch. Jaskier traced the circular scar (mostly circular, at least. Nothing healed that perfectly) before spiralling into the center with a single finger, then spiralling back out.

“Kikimore,” Geralt said without being prompted, figuring the faster he spoke the faster Jaskier would move on and give him another brief moment to rebuild his defenses.

“There are different kinds, right?” Jaskier asked, not moving on.

Geralt tried to take a deep breath, but it kept puffing out. He locked his joints in place so as to not squirm and give himself away. “Yes. Workers, warriors, and the queen.”

Jaskier placed all his fingers in the center of the scar and slowly dragged them outwards to the edges, then repeated the motion going inwards. Geralt couldn’t help but gasp and jerk at that, one hand making an aborted movement to reach back and pull Jaskier away while the other went up to hover over his mouth in case he needed to muffle any more sounds.

“Which one did this?” Jaskier asked, a grin evident in his voice.

Geralt inwardly cursed. Jaskier knew exactly what he was doing.

“A-a warrior,” he managed, having to bring his hand away from his mouth to speak.

The hand granted him a brief moment of mercy, but not nearly long enough. It touched down again against his shoulder blade, a series of old puncture wounds. The fingers on the hand spread out so as to touch each of them and nails scratched gently at the centers.

“And here?”

Geralt took a shaky breath and resisted the urge to roll his shoulders. “Harpy. Like today.”

“How’d it do that?” Jaskier punctuated the question with a particularly sharp scratch that had Geralt gasping again, back arching.

“Got it’s talons into me and tried to fly off.”

Jaskier hummed sympathetically, taking a single finger to trace around each raised, uneven oval individually. “I assume it didn’t manage, or these would be much larger.”

Geralt hummed shakily, lungs spasming with repressed titters -- witchers didn’t titter.

Geralt tried not to jump as Jaskier’s head hooked over his shoulder, hands snaking around to hug him around his middle. Palms flat, they rubbed up and down his torso for a few moments and Geralt foolishly allowed himself to relax, even though he knew it wasn’t over.

Jaskier started out easy, a thin line on his pectoral. It wasn’t too terribly ticklish, but the tingles still spread out under his skin. He brushed a fingertip back and forth over it a few times before switching to lightly scraping his nail along it.

“Knife,” Geralt said softly.

Jaskier scritched briefly at his chest with four fingers, making Geralt twitch, before moving on. He decided on a knotted scar on Geralt’s side, right around his waistline. Geralt twitched and huffed, a smile sneaking onto his face. The already sensitive spot combined with the even-more-sensitive scar tissue made it very hard to keep his composure.

“What about here, darling?”

Geralt tried to remember, and then huffed out a quick breath of a laugh that had nothing to do with the ticklish touch. Jaskier must’ve sensed it too, because he stopped the teasing, just resting his fingers against the skin and looking at him curiously. Geralt couldn’t help the grin on his face.

“Eskel and I,” he said. “We were fucking around, and I tumbled out a window. Vesemir was pissed as all hell.”

Jaskier chuckled in the crook of his shoulder and neck. “Of course you were the Kaer Morhen troublemakers.”

Geralt opened his mouth to reply, but at that exact moment, Jaskier scribbled those calloused fingertipss against the scar and Geralt was too caught off-guard to keep himself composed. He barked out a laugh and jerked to the side, curving his waist in on one side and trying to twist away, but Jaskier followed him easily.

The boys at Kaer Morhen played rough, even when doing something as silly and fun as tickling. It was all throwing each other to the ground and pinning each other into the floor and digging hands deep into weak points. They got away with playing by telling Vesemir it was teaching them where to defend themselves, since ticklish weak points were often directly correlated with places you did not want to get injured, like arteries and organs, but Geralt was sure he saw through that.

But experiencing it as such, Geralt wasn’t prepared for just how much such a gentle touch could tickle. It was unbearable, it was maddening. Geralt didn’t know how to handle it. And Jaskier never went deeper, never went harsher, just kept his touch feather-light tracing around and teasing his scars. It wasn’t a sensation he had any reference for to help his defense, so he was utterly helpless in the face of this caring bard with his gentle hands and soft smile.

Jaskier stayed in that spot for what felt like a while to Geralt, now that he finally found somewhere to make Geralt crack. He squeezed his hands into fists to avoid reaching for or swatting at Jaskier, not willing to ruin their little game. As embarrassing as it was, Geralt may have been having a little bit of fun, and he wasn’t quite willing to give it up so soon, even if he had lost at holding back his reactions.

After an eternity, Jaskier pulled his hand away. He gave Geralt almost no time before he moved to the next scar, meaning Geralt had no time to recover. He almost snorted as Jaskier’s fingers touched down and traced around a scar curving against his stomach. Then he traced his fingers in a line up and down the curve, leaving Geralt wiggling in place in a very embarrassing way, for someone who tried so hard to remain composed.

Geralt was so focused on trying to rebuild the dam to contain his snickers and being flustered over his squirming, that Jaskier played with the scar for over a minute before prompting Geralt with an evil grin against his neck.

“This one, dear heart?” He punctuated the question with a quick wiggle against the deepest part of the curve, and Geralt had to swallow a terrible squeal.

“D-devourer,” he struggled to get out.

“Oh, poor thing,” Jaskier cooed. “Ugly bastards, those ones. Nasty claws on them.”

At the word “claw” Jaskier formed a claw with his fingers and scratched up and down against various scars around Geralt’s stomach. Geralt’s choked snickers turned into full laughs as he squeezed his eyes shut. Doing that, however, only made things worse for him, because he couldn’t tell where Jaskier was moving next, so they immediately shot back open.

Then, Jaskier dropped one of the weaponized hands and dipped a finger into his bellybutton. This time, Geralt couldn’t quite successfully bite back the squeal that tried to escape, and it came out choked and giggly. He laughed and jerked, doubling over a little at the sensation.

“That’s not a scar!” He protested, but still didn’t pull Jaskier’s hand away.

Jaskier chuckled against his neck and vibrated the finger even deeper. “Sure it is! Remember where it came from?”

“My-- my birth!”

Jaskier pulled away, giving him a break. Geralt leaned over his legs, working to regain his breath through his leftover chuckles.

“Your giggles are so cute,” Jaskier said, nipping playfully at Geralt’s exposed shoulder and neck.

Geralt was so wound up that he even jerked away from that touch, feeling quite ticklish even though it didn’t usually bother him so much. “I don’t giggle.”

Jaskier fluttered his fingers against the knotted scar on his side once more, and Geralt burst into giggles. “I beg to differ, darling. They’re all deep and rumbling, nothing like my giggles, but giggles nonetheless. Your chuckles are quite a bit deeper, not quite so bouncy.”

“Quiet.”

Jaskier gasped, pulling his hands away. “As if I could ever!”

Before Geralt could retort with some sort of scathing or teasing remark, one of Jaskier’s hands made itself known on his thigh, tracing a long, deep scar. Geralt hadn’t had time to compose himself yet again, and immediately tumbled back into quiet laughter. His leg twitched, but Geralt refused to show enough weakness to let it squirm and bounce about like it wanted to, to escape the sensations.

“Cockatrice,” Geralt fought to get out through his laughter, knowing Jaskier was trying to draw out the playful torment before asking.

“Poor thing,” Jaskier murmured against the skin of his neck, lips and teeth tracing the scar that Adda had left there after he’d saved her from her striga curse, the bite marks having healed in quite the ugly fashion.

This time, Geralt did snort, trying to shrug up his shoulders and crane his neck so that Jaskier didn’t have access, but the man was stubborn. His hand also still fluttered away at Geralt’s thigh, finding other scars to trace briefly, but not asking after them.

“You’re beautiful,” Jaskier breathed.

Geralt didn’t reply, suddenly debating pulling away from Jaskier’s touch. Jaskier made the decision for him, pushing him down onto the bed and staring down at him, fingers tracing a few scars in a way that, for the first time since this little game started, weren’t meant to be ticklish. They still were, of course, but lightly enough that Geralt was able to actually focus.

“You are. Your scars don’t detract from that beauty.”

Geralt caught one of Jaskier’s wandering hands off his bicep and the other froze where it was on his chest. “I’m a mutant and a monster.”

Jaskier scowled at him. “Next time you say that, I’m going to tickle you until you have to gasp through your giggles about how good and wonderful a person you are, and how drop-dead handsome you are.”

“Jaskier.”

“Geralt.”

Left with no time to argue his point again, Jaskier’s hands touched down again, finding some of the more sensitive scars he had explored. One hand went to the knotted one on his side and scribbled away, the other slipped under him to the kikimore scar on his back and started up that maddening in-and-out dragging of fingers once more. Geralt tossed his head back in laughter, eyes squeezing shut.

“Or maybe,” Jaskier said, cheeky grin evident in his voice and mirth dancing around in his scent, “we’ll just do that now.”

Jaskier’s mouth attached to Adda’s scar once more and Geralt was lost. His hands danced between scar tissue, tormenting away, while his mouth pinpointed any scars in the vicinity of his neck, shoulders, and collarbones to nip and kiss at. Geralt wheezed and cackled and giggled, but he never made an effort to squirm away from the touch. He knew how to get out of it, after all, even if he believed saying it would be a lie. Besides, Witcher stamina was nothing to bat an eye at. So Geralt simply gripped Jaskier’s hips and let himself go, just this once, to have fun with his lover. Their laughter mingled together late into the night, causing them to have a much later start in the morning than they had originally planned.

Geralt couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed.

#tickle fic #My writing #the witcher tickling #lee!geralt #ler!Jaskier #ticklish!geralt #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier | dandelion #geraskier

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spookyboywhump · 4 years

Text

More collab with @ihaventwritteninsolong‘s characters Clement and Cathal!! Cathal meets a new friend :D

TW: Uhhhh, knives, cutting, general dehumanization and derogatory stuff

***

Vanessa was… different, than Cain or Clement. She wasn’t cold and angry, when she saw him she had gasped, taking his face in her hands and exclaiming that he was such a pretty boy. She was gentle, almost sweet even, almost normal. Apparently she was Cain’s friend, and Cathal didn’t entirely understand how, how someone so gentle could be friends with Cain of all people.

As the visit progressed though, he couldn’t help but notice how uneasy Zander and Wren seemed around her. She kept Zander close to her, while Cain kept Wren at his side, as usual. She ran one hand through his dark hair, and he swore he saw her tug sharply when Zander tried to pull away. He was visibly tense, but not angry. There was no scowl on his face like normal, he kept his eyes on the floor, avoiding looking at any of them, even Cathal.

He briefly wondered if it was better that way.

“Can I see him?” He didn’t like the sound of that, instinctively moving closer to Clement. The last person who asked to see him was Cain and well… that night hadn’t ended well for him.

“Of course.” Clement told her, as if he knew it was the last thing Cathal wanted. Knowing him, that’s exactly why he did it.

“He’s just so cute!” She said, moving from her seat to kneel down in front of him. Her hands were on his face again, but not roughly like Cain or Clement, all soft and careful. She very gently tilted his head side to side, and he resisted the urge to pull away. “And so well behaved too, is he always this way?” She asked, looking up to Clement.

“Only when he’s scared.” Clement said, sounding almost disdainful, giving Cathal a look that made his stomach turn, anxiously glancing away from him and back to Vanessa. “Once he gets comfortable he’ll forget everything I’ve taught him.”

“The kid has a bad case of being fucking stupid.” Cain said bluntly, as if elaborating on what Clement had said.

“Hmm? Are you scared of me dear?” She asked, holding his face still. Of course he was scared of her, scared because he was confused. It almost made his head hurt to think too much about it, about this kind person fawning over him who seemed to have both Zander and Wren visibly nervous. He didn’t know what to do so instead he tried to please her, shaking his head as best he could.

“N-no ma’am…” He flinched when Clement hit him hard against the back of his head, only avoiding falling forward by Vanessa holding him.

“Don’t lie to her, mutt. She asked you a question, you’re going to tell her the truth.” He said sternly.

“It’s okay.” Vanessa told him, keeping her voice soft and gentle. “Just tell me the truth, please?” She smiled, almost encouraging him. He was still hesitant to answer, but she wasn’t angry with him, which seemed good at least.

“I… y-yes, I-I am…” He whimpered, expecting a negative reaction from her, but she only laughed.

“That’s adorable!” She removed her hands from his face, taking one of his hands and looking up at Clement. “Could I see him alone for just a moment? It won’t take long.” She said. His head snapped up to look at him as well, almost pleading with his eyes, don’t let her take me. She wasn’t cruel like them, but she was still a stranger, he was still confused, he would be safe with Clement.

“Hm… I don’t think the puppy would like that very much…” Clement said, meeting his eyes, and for just a moment, Cathal had hope, hope that he could escape something. It all came crashing down once again when Clement continued, “Go ahead, take your time with him.”

His stomach dropped as she pulled him to his feet, easily leading him past them, past Zander who watched with a terrified look in his eyes. He started to move, started to say something, but a very stern “Down, boy” from Cain stopped him. This wasn’t the usual angry defiance from him, it was fear, concern, and that was enough to scare him even more.

He was led out of the room, down one of the halls of Cain’s house. He didn’t know where they were going, and he was hesitant to ask her, simply following along because what else could he have done? At some point she stopped, turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders. He jumped at first but didn’t jerk away, even as she pushed him against the wall, almost trapping him from how close she was. Something was different, something was wrong, the way she looked at him was wrong. He couldn’t even describe it, it was the same girl who had been holding his face and playing with his hair, yet her mood had somehow changed in a second, a smile still on her face, more amused than anything now.

“Look at me, Cathal.” She said sternly, that kind and sweet tone she’d used before completely gone. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, cold blue eyes looking him over. What happened, what had he done, he wondered, staring at her with big, scared eyes. “Your owner says you’ve been getting close with Zander, hm?”

Of course Clement had mentioned it to her, mentioned how Zander couldn’t keep his hands off him, mentioned how he kept having to teach Cathal the same lesson over, and over, and over again it seemed. I’m yours, I’m owned, I’m happy here and I don’t ever want to leave, the words still echoed in his head. Clement had gestured to Zander and called him a beast, a stupid, out of control beast who seemed to think less with his brain and more with his fists, both Clement and Cathal knowing first hand how violent he could be. He had told her that they, specifically Cathal, had to learn the hard way exactly who he belonged to, and that they needed to keep their hands to themselves.

“I- we- no, no w-we hav-haven’t-” He started, but she cut him off.

“Do you like knives, puppy?” She asked, almost innocently. He blinked, confused by the question, but hesitantly answered anyway.

“N-no, no m-ma’am, I-I don’t….” He said softly, voice cracking with fear as he watched her reach into the purse slung over her shoulder. She seemed to find what she was looking for, smiling as she pulled out the object, a red handled butterfly knife that she flipped open far too close to his face for comfort, causing him to flinch back, whimpering softly.

“Really? That’s sad, because I do. I love them actually.” She told him. “I have a collection, this one is special though.” She held it up so he could see it better, see the letters engraved on the blade. Zander. “Normally I only use this one on him, but since you two seem so close, I don’t think he’ll mind.” His heart was hammering in his chest as he caught on to what she was saying, that she intended to use it on him.

“W-wait, please, I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, p-please d-don’t, I, I-I’ll be good, I s-swear...” He insisted, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Yes, after this I’m sure you will be. Hold your hands out, palms up.” She ordered. At first he shook his head, hands held close to his chest, but she gave him a look, leaning in dangerously close to him. “This shouldn’t be hard, I already know you’re a stupid slut who can’t keep his hands to himself. Hold them out or I’ll have to tell your owner how disobedient you are.”

He whimpered at that, finally, slowly, holding his hands out like she wanted. She backed off just slightly, as if she already knew for sure he wouldn’t run. It wasn’t as if she was wrong. She took his left hand in her own, looking it over for a moment before almost gently pressing the knife against his palm, not even breaking skin yet. Not even breaking skin, yet tears had already blurred his vision, knowing what was to come.

“You see, Cathal, Zander is mine. I don’t care what Cain says, he’s mine, and I don’t like people touching what belongs to me, not unless I say so.” She explained, digging the tip of the knife into his hand, causing him to gasp in pain. It took all of his control to not jerk away, to not make it even worse. She was going slow, dragging the knife in a diagonal line across his palm. “And since you think that it’s okay to touch him, I have to fix that.”

“N-No I don’t- don’t think it’s o-okay, I w-won’t- I kn-know better, I-I s-swear!” He whined, Clement had taught him well enough by now, who he belonged to, who was allowed to touch him, and it certainly didn’t involve Zander.

“You will know better once I’m done. Now stop being a fucking baby, this is nowhere near the worst this knife can do.” She told him. “Certainly nowhere near the worst it’s done on Zander. You know that scar on his face, puppy?” She asked, and he weakly nodded, only to appease her, keep her from hurting him worse. “This knife gave him that scar, marking my territory, you know?” She glanced up at him, that smile suddenly cold and cruel. “You’ll want to remember that scar, these scars when you think about fucking touching him again.”

She dragged the knife slowly, another line crossing over the first one, a large X carved into his hand. He could barely see it through his tears, biting down on his lip to keep from sobbing out loud. She looked his hand over, seemed to be satisfied, before pushing it away and grabbing his other hand, her grip tight.

“I don’t even know why he would want you. What could he possibly see in some stupid, weak mutt.” The next cut wasn’t slow and methodical, it was quick, angry, slashing across his palm and catching his fingers. He cried out, almost jerking back, only to hit the wall, her grip on his hand still tight. “Fucking stay still, even you should be able to follow such a simple order.” She snapped at him.

“I-I’m sorry- I’m suh-sorry-” He stammered, trying his best to hold still as she carved in the next line, the last line, at least he hoped it was the last anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “God, do you have anything going on up there, or do you only know how to beg and apologize?” She said, dragging the knife through his hand in one swift motion. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all he could do was cry, a broken sound as tears ran down his face and blood dripped from his hands. As if to add insult to injury she grabbed the hem of his shirt, using it to wipe the blood off the blade. She folded the knife back up once she was satisfied with it, returning it to her purse before grabbing his hands, not seeming to even care about the blood.

“That is Zander’s knife, puppy. Like I said, I have a collection, and you don’t want me to have to choose a Cathal knife, understand?” She said sternly. He nodded quickly.

“Y-yes m-ma’am…”

“As long as you keep your fucking hands to yourself,” She said, digging her nails into the fresh wounds and eliciting another cry from him, “We won’t have a problem. Try to use whatever brain you have to think about these scars next time you want to be a fucking slut.” She told him. Just like Clement had called him that day, a stupid, idiot slut, for daring to be held by another person, by someone who wasn’t Clement, and he knew that she was right, knew that Clement would agree which meant she must have been right.

She seemed happy with his tears and his misery, holding only one hand to drag him back to the others. He kept his eyes on the floor, not ready to face them, not ready to face Clement. She dragged him back to him though, let go of his hand and he obediently kneeled.

“Did he give you some trouble?” Clement asked, a hand coming to rest on the back of his neck, causing him to freeze up immediately.

“Oh, only a little bit.” She said, voice innocent as ever. The switch was unnerving, only serving to confuse him further. He whimpered, reaching up to rub his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Well? Did you misbehave, puppy?” He asked, and Cathal quickly shook his head, only for him to dig his nails into the back of his neck. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” He said sternly. “Did you misbehave?” He asked again. He could hardly think of what he had done, but he must’ve, he must’ve been so bad that she felt the need to punish him, must’ve made such a mistake even looking at Zander that she had to mark him, make sure he knew he’d been bad.

“I-I… y-yes sir…” He murmured, only briefly glancing up. Vanessa seemed pleased with this, stepping away from them and back to Zander, wiping the blood from her hand on his shoulder as she sat down, finally getting him to jerk away.

“You’ll want to start telling the truth the first time, mutt.” He said, voice low and dangerous. Cathal felt sick to his stomach, which only got worse when Cain whistled, getting his attention, even Clement looking up.

“I’d love to watch you punish your puppy, but I’m eager to know what will come from our uh- discussion.” He said, looking almost enthusiastic. Vanessa gave him a look, clearly unsure of what he meant since they’d been gone for it, but judging from the looks Wren and Zander were giving him, almost silently pleading, he already knew it wasn’t good.

“Right, of course.” Clement said, hand going from his neck to tangle in his hair, jerking his head up so he was forced to look at him. “Cain so kindly invited us to see one of his dogs fight.” He explained, each word only serving to make Cathal more nervous. “We’ll deal with your punishment later, for now,” He grinned, “How about you make a choice for us. Which one do you want to see fight, darling? Wren, or that fucking beast?” He asked, eagerly awaiting Cathal’s reply.

He almost wasn’t sure he even could reply through his stifled sobs, hands still stinging from the pain, all the eyes in the room focused on him. It almost made him dizzy, and for just a moment, he wished he would pass out, just to avoid making a choice, just to escape this absolute nightmare.

#whump #my writing #my oc's #other people's oc's #Clement #Cathal #Vanessa #Cain #Zander #Wren #knives tw #cutting tw

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ask-hanako-cast · 4 years

Text

Mitsuba X Kou - Misunderstandings

Summary- Third Wonder Mitsuba still has a lot to learn after being alive for only a short time, so Kou tries to help by explaining things. However, Mitsuba also tries to learn things on his own which can lead to quite a few misunderstandings.

1825 Words, Rated T

Everything was brand new to Mitsuba. Well, not everything. He knew how to walk and run and how to point out someone’s insecurities from miles away like it was a skill infused with the very fabric of his being. He could hum, joke, and knew games like rock, paper, scissors, and tag. Still, even with the knowledge he had, it wasn’t enough to hush him up when curiosity got the better of him.

Kou didn’t know why Mitsuba seemed to like him. This Mitsuba wasn’t his, but the similarities made his heart hurt just like when Mitsuba turned to him a month ago and said, “Bold of you to assume I like you! Maybe it’s just… I feel like I should be here. Things feel better when I’m with you. It’s different from Tsukasa.”

Tsukasa taught him lots, but Kou filled in blanks or corrected what Mitsuba assumed. Today was no different as Kou guided Mitsuba through the halls near the gym, pointing out trophies in the glass case.

“This one is for a sport called soccer. You kick a ball around a field and try to score it in a goal. I used to play it, but I was always benched for kicking the ball in the wrong goal.”

“I see.” Mitsuba was confused; if his looks were anything to go by, but he urged Kou to continue.

“And this one,” Kou explained as he gestured to one of the last sports trophies, “is for tennis. Do you remember what that one is?”

“Hitting a ball with a paddle?”

“Close enough!” Kou grinned. He glanced around the display to decide which to quiz him on next, but when he turned back to his friend Mitsuba’s attention was already taken by something across the hall. He followed Mitsuba’s gaze as he approached the other display a bit of ways from the sports. “Oh, that’s awards for clubs! Sometimes they can win awards too, but mostly just ribbons and certificates for whatever.”

Mitsuba hummed in thought, pressing a clawed hand to the glass as he examined the cabinets contents. Upon gazing over one in particular, Mitsuba’s eyes lit up and he jabbed a nail toward it. “I know what that one is!”

“You do?” Kou asked in surprise as he peeked over Mitsuba’s shoulder.

Mitsuba slid a step to the side, his scarf ends twitching a silent warning to not come too close, lest he become nervous and they move on their own accord. He nodded and fiddled with his sleeves, a blush working on his lips.

“Tsukasa showed me. They were practicing when he took me in there.”

“You went to see the drama club practicing?” That sounded like the most normal thing Tsukasa ever showed him.

“He was originally trying to get me to eat a centipede he found.” That makes more sense. “Then I ran by a room and saw them practicing and Tsukasa stopped. I didn’t know they had a club for that…”

“They have a club for everything,” Kou replied, “did you like it?”

Mitsuba’s blush grew as he glanced away from the award. “Uh, I guess? I think it’s one of those things where… it’d be more fun to do yourself and not… watch it.”

He never pegged Mitsuba to be interested in drama club, but his cuteness would be popular on stage. That is, if he were alive.

Mitsuba let out an awkward chuckle though, in Kou’s opinion, there was nothing to be weird about. They’ve had longer silences. It had to mean Mitsuba was uncomfortable. Kou felt his heart squeeze as he looked at the supernatural.

“Did you want to do drama club things with me?” Kou asked, tilting his head.

Mitsuba’s shoulders jumped and his scarf tails stood on end. “D-D-Do that-“

“I mean, I can’t say I’m any good, but with enough practice-“

“P-Practice?” Mitsuba screeched, face turning bright red.

“With enough practice,” Kou repeated, “I can get better.”

“You can’t be serious…” Mitsuba whispered, not meeting Kou’s eye as he began to mumble, “You are just trying to take advantage of me knowing that I am lost to this. You are probably going to make me do things against my will and-!”

“I wouldn’t do anything you are uncomfortable with,” Kou urged with a sigh. Was he afraid of stage fighting? Kou hadn’t even considered that when Mitsuba told him about seeing the drama club! He wasn’t going to roughhouse with Mitsuba when the mere thought of getting hit makes him cry out. “We will just try it out and see if you like it?”

Kou briefly wondered if he could steer Mitsuba back to his camera through this interest, but everything took time.

Mitsuba bit his lip and clicked his nails along one of the pendants on his scarf; a habit he did when he was assessing options, gambling the best deal.

“T-... Tsukasa said they practice with everyone.” Mitsuba lowered his chin so he could stare at the floor. “I… don’t want either of us practicing with anyone else.”

It might be a good thing Mitsuba isn’t alive to join the real drama club, Kou realised. Because that type of thinking wouldn’t be smiled upon. Either way, he nodded along obediently and gestured over to the library. “We can go find scripts now, if you want.”

“Scripts?” Mitsuba squeaked, face going back to a cherry red as he watched Kou mime out the papers. He let out a laugh. It sounded uncomfortable, uncertain. “Do we… Do we really need them? I think that… for the first one… we can figure it out on our own?”

Kou was slowly getting the feeling he had no clue what Mitsuba was talking about. He prayed Tsukasa didn’t mess with his impressional brain too much and reached out, placing a hand on the supernatural’s shoulder. He leaned down a little, making Mitsuba’s wide pink eyes meet his.

“Mitsuba, what do you find interesting about drama club?”

“Oh.” He didn’t seem prepared, but his fake confidence built up in seconds. “Well, I wouldn’t want to join, like I said, but I… k-kinda want to try what they were doing. Tsukasa said it’s something you do with someone who means a lot to you… and I don’t have that many people I’d want to do it with. J-Just you, I guess…”

Kou’s brain was working overtime to find an answer as the flustered supernatural began to spew out random words. “B-Because, like you said, you have to be pretty bad at it, s-so if you say anything, I’ll tell Nene you drama club like a dog and don’t even taste like lemons!”

“Lemons?” Had Mitsuba accidentally ran into a farmer’s market and decided he wanted to start a stand with Kou? That’s… a little hard to do, but Kou would figure something out. However, he was pretty sure Mitsuba would never want to try that. He’d probably have a heart attack the moment he got dirt under his nail beds or a fly in his hair.

“Tsukasa said it tastes like lemons.”

“You… want to cook with me?”

Mitsuba looked irritated, blush dying away only slightly as he glared up at Kou. “No. I want to drama club with you. Now, stop making me repeat it. It’s embarrassing.”

Kou took a deep breath and sighed. “I think we are having a language barrier- No, a Tsukasa-teaching-weird barrier right now. Can you show me what you mean so I can be sure it’s what I’m thinking?”

“Y-You want me to do it?” Mitsuba shrieked. “That’s… If you are seriously that shy, I can do it. Uh, but can you… come closer?”

Weren’t they already close enough? Kou stepped forward, until their chests were only a small space apart. Usually Mitsuba would be tense and nervous if anyone stood that close to him, despite his words saying the opposite. It wasn’t hard to tell how he truly felt with his scarf ends wriggling behind him. However, Mitsuba’s scarf wasn’t moving to protect him from his fears this time. It hung limp as Mitsuba looked up at him and brushed some of his bangs aside.

“Tilt your head down.” Kou obeyed, tensing when he realised how close Mitsuba was. He could almost feel his breath on his lips. Kou was beginning to have a feeling that Mitsuba never saw a drama club practice to begin with, but he said nothing as Mitsuba glanced away. “Eyes closed.”

Kou closed his eyes and was about to ask Mitsuba if his train of thought was on the right track when he felt something weird on his lips. It wasn’t a bad weird, but it wasn’t something he could explain. He dared to open his eyes only to see Mitsuba’s face way too close that he could figure out the origin of the foreign feeling on his lips. Mitsuba’s clawed hand came to rest near his neck, nails accidentally grazing the skin enough to send goosebumps down Kou’s back.

Mitsuba slowly pulled away, pink eyes fluttering open. They were the same color as his cheeks. He looked like an angel this close. Kou bit his lip and leaned forward instead, but just as his lips brushed Mitsuba’s, he was pushed back.

“I-I said to keep your eyes closed!” Mitsuba whispered, hitting him with his sleeve. His eyes grew glossy and Kou wasn’t sure if it was just a rouse or if he actually felt sad. Kou’s mind quickly supplied an answer to the question he’s been wondering. Mitsuba must have seen a stage kiss and wasn’t told that that wasn’t all a drama club did. Tsukasa must have glazed over so much information, it was a miracle this has been one of the only drastic

Kou nodded his head dumbly. “Sorry, sorry!”

Mitsuba gave him a long glare, then pulled away. “It’s… fine. You weren’t, uh, as bad as you claimed to be.”

Kou scratched the back of his neck. “T-Thank you?”

“But there is one thing that was weird.” Kou felt his palms become sweaty. “You don’t taste like lemons like Tsukasa said.”

“He said I’d taste like lemons?”

“Well, no. He said drama clubs tasted like lemons,” Mitsuba stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “but you are sweeter, I think.”

“You were good too,” Kou said lamely, blushing as he glanced to the ground, “but that is actually called a ‘kiss’. I don’t think they taste like lemons unless someone has one or a candy beforehand, but you were right on the whole ‘it’s for people who are important to you’.”

Mitsuba seemed to ponder this for a moment. “Then… Next time, just to test it, can we try lemon candies? I-I just want to see if ‘kisses’ can be lemony or if Tsukasa was fibbing again.”

Next time? Kou grinned and nodded like a bobble head, fast and sporadically. “Sure!”

“Without a script too?”

“Without a script.”

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #mitsuba sousuke #jshk mitsuba #jshk tsukasa #jshk kou #mitsukou #hanakokun #toliet bound hanako kun

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kurtty-drabbles · 4 years

Text

House of M au - Redone (part 2)

N/A: Let´s continue this au. I think.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @djinmer4 @tieflingteeth @muninandhugin

The Red Guard is a conception as old as Genosha itself-which is a bit ironic as Genosha is not as older as some people seem to consider- and Raven Darkholme is one of the few people that know how old Genosha truly is. Raven Darkholme is a shapeshifter and installs the idea of never asking a shapeshifter her/his age is a taboo that shouldn´t be disclosed.

Kurt Wagner Darkholme is one of few people to know sure secret and promises to take to his grave-an inside joke among son and mother-although, right now, his mind is far too focused on recent events to care for jokes.

Passing through some of his co-workers. Kurt slams the door to his mother´s office and is a pair of golden eyes look out, somehow bored at this entrance- Kurt has the mind to use his tail to close the door- and crosses his arms as he is ready to drop the bomb. "Who is Kitty Pryde?"

Raven Darkholme couldn´t be more bored with this question if she wanted. "Hi, son! how are you, son? Me? I´m fine, thanks for asking" her tone is dry as her eyes are back to the papers. You see, the Red Guards are all about action and it´s also involved in lots of paperwork.

Kurt doesn´t look too chastised at this. "I´m talking about Juggernaut´s accident...by the way, will Marko Kurt" and he looks deadpan by the fact a criminal shares the same name as him. "will be put in maximum security?"

Now, Raven shows her teeth. Is a fitting metaphor for the fearsome leader of the Red Guard. "Actually, Marko is powerless without his magic helmet...he´ll put in the common criminal cellar, along with the other common criminals" and her smile looks more devious. "As we´d inform him how his precious helmet is being melted...no more magic helmet" and Kurt arch his eyebrows at this.

"And it is?"

"Oh, Kurt...does it really matters?"

And this debate-and any moral implication- is deemed over. Well, Kurt Wagner disagrees. "mother, please" he pleads now and is unwavering sincere. "In the Juggernaut case...a woman, a civilian as far I can tell" and Kurt is showing such suspicious on his face is almost comic. Almost. "and she faces Juggernaut on her own and even had the nerve to ask for one of my swords ..." Kurt states. Raven is bored again.

"Kurt, if I were to give a fuck to every lady you meet that do anything to jump into your bed...I would be like this" and her face twist to an old crone with white hair and bad teeth. Kurt is not amused. "So, I do not see the big picture only you see"

"She stands Juggernaut...how many people can do that and be still alive?" and Kurt grins as Raven is no longer bored. "My point is, what if she´s from the Project X?" and now Raven is giving him her sole attention.

"Kurt, we dismantled that program way before you were even born. Way before Rogue was even born..." Raven commence. "Logan James Howlett is one of the last candidates...and he´s spending his life as a rich playboy...if, and I want to be clear here on the if, IF this woman is from the project X...why she would content herself in being a history teacher?" and Raven feels she struck a nerve on Kurt.

"Look, I´d not know. OK? Logan is a special case on its own. Maybe she wanted to have some normalcy...my point is: I need your permission to access the big data. I need to know more about this woman, if she´s part of the program X...we need to know...what if she gets some power up? Laura suffered that and if we´re not there...things would have turned grimly for everyone" Kurt concludes somewhat smugly. His reason has some base.

Raven rests her face on the palms of her hands. "Denial!" and it shocks her son´s to the very core. "I´ll not authorize privacy invasion for a flimsy excuse, yes, she may be from the program X, but, let´s be honest...there like 1% or less of a chance of being true...son, hear me out" now Raven is pleading. As a mother. Never as a leader. "the program was closed years ago. This Kitty Pryde is not from the Program X...but, if you feel there´s something wrong about her...you don´t need to use our data" she stops and looks at her only son.

"You´re Kurt Wagner" she starts in a sing-song tone. And Kurt starts to use the name Mom as a warning. "The heartthrob of Genosha...what lady would refuse such the Amazing Nightcrawler!" and she has a wide grin on her face and Kurt is completely bemused.

"Thanks, that´s useless"

"Anytime, son"

_______________________________________________________________________________________

The Sunshine School is not one of the elite- even if the name gives this impression- and it includes many professionals that are doing their best for the future generation of Genosha. There´re a majority of mutant teachers- a rule Magneto created in his first year and is hard to ignore it- however, there´re some humans working in the school as well.

Right now, Jono Starmore is teaching the kids about telepathy. Of course, as the man is mute. His entire class is in silence- if one is to look from outside, it sure paints an odd picture- as the teaching carries on.

Jubilation Lee is watching the class- Telepathy 101- from afar and is not thinking the scene is too strange. She watches as Jono being still and showing little changes in his expression and makes the mistake of making a soft sigh. A mistake the other teachers caught on pretty quick.

"Oh, someone is in love!" Bobby teased. And Monet-who is doing her nails- didn´t need to look up to Jubilation or Bobby to see what´s the image is being folded. "Jubilee is so obvious. Too obvious...is pathetic and adorable at the same time" and Jubilee remembers she promised to the principal she wouldn´t kill Monet- she made a promise and she is trying to uphold. She´s trying- even if the temptation is strong.

"I´m not sure what you guys are talking about...I´m just happy we have a telepath that has some morals....unlike your old buddy, Emma...how is she, Monet?" Jubilee hissed as Monet looks unimpressed.

"Still being the White Bitch we know. We love and we hate" Monet summarizes the situation in one line. "And you? Done pinning over a silent boy?"

Kitty pipes in. Her coffee is not that great, but, will keep her awake until she has time to take a nice nap. "Hey, leave her alone. If she has a crush" Jubilee vehemently denies even if she´s blushing. "let her deal with that. Teasing will not help our dear friend who is crushing someone"

"Et Tu, Kitty?"

And there´s an easy feeling among them. Bad coffee is more agreeable if you have a good company. It even helps to forget problems in the past.

Jubilee changes the subject quickly. "So, Kitty...how was facing Juggernaut?" and people forget about Jubilee´s crush-for now- as they bomb Kitty with questions.

Payback!

"Uhm...it was ok...I meet Nightcrawler...also I saw Rogue punching Juggernaut"

"Rogue?! She´s the coolest!" they all agreed. _______________________________________________________________________________________

"I mean, you saw Rogue!" Bobby is walking with Kitty as they´re responsible to clean the small festival their class made. Bobby is almost jumping like a little boy who got a present way earlier. "How is she?" and Kitty almost laughs.

"No one going to ask if I´m alright?" inquires poorly faking being angry. Kitty is not a great actress.

"Are you Kitty Pryde, right?" is all Bobby can respond. They pick the trash-the students abused in ribbons and glitter for their small festival- and are moving outside to throw away in the correct garbage can. "I can totally believe you punch God in the face...you and Monet have that bitch energy"

"I´ll not take offended because I know you and Monet. So, instead, I´ll say ...thank you"

"But aside seeing Rogue in all her awesomeness. You meet Nightcrawler...is he as handsome as the photos promise?" only Bobby to make this question. No, actually, many people would make this question.

Kitty mulls for a minute. Oh, many ladies would say how handsome he is. Kitty? She has to think about it. "He has golden eyes..."

"Man...you see Rogue and Nightcrawler and didn´t get an autograph?"

"Nah...Rogue was too busy and Nightcrawler was working...plus, my students record the whole exchange" Kitty promises to show the videos if Bobby truly wants to see. Kitty didn´t even need to ask. However, as they´re about to return to the school. Something happens. Rather...someone happens.

"KATYA!" his Russian voice is too familiar to Kitty and it can´t be no one else but Piotr Rasputin. "Are you cheating me with this man?" and Bobby is really confused.

"I´m gay buddy, and even if I wasn´t...she doesn´t seem to want to see you" and this was the wrong thing to say as Piotr is furious and is marching like a bull without thinking twice.

Bobby´s ice is strong, sadly, for once...Piotr´s stubbornness is beyond any logic and the ice is the first victim. Kitty touches Bobby making him and her unchangeable. And she quickly phases him down as Piotr is not thinking clearly.

"So...that´s your ex?"

"That´s my biggest mistake!"

___________________________________________________________________________________________ Kurt is more than aware of his effects on women. He´s acutely aware how some ladies do eye him different-his big sister often jokes she can go anywhere with him without a lady trying to flirt with him- accordingly, follow his mother´s suggestion wouldn´t be an impossible choice, however, Kurt is trying not to be a manslut-there´re limits he needs to respect and he needs and wants the ladies to respect his own limits- Kurt wants to know more about this history teacher.

Arriving in her school wouldn´t be too stalkerish-Oh, he sure hopes not- as he wants to inform her about the Juggernaut's case-nothing fair in this scenario and certainly not problematic on his part- as soon Kurt arrives in the school...he sees a man cover in metal slamming his fist on the ground shouting the word "Katya" like a lunatic.

And Kurt has to rescue whoever this Katya is. Fighting a man with metal skin is a tricky situation- Rogue would punch his face and be done. Oh, how he sometimes envy her super-strength- But thanks to his swords and his teleportations prowess. The lunatic was defeated.

And a woman phased in with another man. Kitty Pryde looks at the unconscious Piotr Rasputin and back to Kurt. "He´s not dead...he´s drowsy...is he your husband?" Kurt asked not sure what to ask. He saw this behavior with abusive husbands in the past.

Kitty frowns. "No, thank god...what will happen with him?"

Kurt looks at her. She looks shaken-rightfully so- and at the same time, her eyes hold a fury-direct to Piotr. Not Kurt, an important detail to notice- and then looks at her companion. "If you press charge...he´ll be arrested and won´t be able to hurt you or anyone else ever again"

Kitty is looking at Bobby as if asking his opinion. "That lunatic almost killed us...yes, let´s press charge..."

Kitty looks ashamed. "I should have press charges way back" she mutters and looks way different from the first time Kurt saw it- Kurt won´t lie and say he has any sympathize for Piotr- "I´ll press charges as well" _____________________________________________________________________________________

Queen Wanda is not exactly happy to know her sons- her precious boys- were almost kidnapped and it was thanks to the wannabe kidnapper´s stupidity that this grim scenario didn´t happen. In fact, she´s happy it wasn't her kids or even an innocent kid.

However, she´s the Queen. And a Queen shouldn´t let this incident goes by without taking some action. So, Pietro and Lorna are discussing what could lead Juggernaut, of all people, to try to kidnap the princes of Genosha.

"Juggernaut is strong and dumb...so, he wouldn´t come with this idea alone...or would he?" Wanda begins.

"He´s not a mutant, right? Are we sure this isn´t just a case of Mutant envy? Look, you´re really, really powerful and some humans seem to think you can give and take powers" Lorna adds to the conversation.

"Are we sure this has nothing to do with our father?" Pietro asked and Wanda sighs as she knows where this will go. Lorna and Pietro have different views in regards to Magneto.

"Pietro, the man is not even here...why he would do this with his own grandchildren?"

"Why he would try to kill his own kids?"

"Enough!" Wanda cuts them before the argument gets uglies. "Pietro, Magneto is not here...and Lorna, Magneto will forever be a bad memory for us, please, respect this"

"Look...what if Wakanda influenced Juggernaut?" Pietro pipes in and Lorna seems to take this idea.

"Yeah, Genosha and Wakanda aren´t allies nor enemies...and again, Wanda, you´re so powerful...people are bound to want some leverage against you"

Wanda frowns at such words.

"Let´s look at this way, maybe this is an isolated case...and we´ll not have to worry, but, if not...we can be ready to do whatever it can to protect Genosha and our family" Pietro promised and Wanda agrees.

"Revanche aka Kwanon is having a chat with Juggernaut...soon we´ll know what this man wanted...worry before time never helps anyone, sister" Lorna concludes softly and Wanda nods. She hopes this is an isolated case.

#House of M redone au #kurt wagner #kitty pryde #Piotr is Piotr #this is not me bashing him...this is me using what he did in canon against him #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #lorna dane #jubilee lee #jubs has a crush #In this house we respect Kwanon

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heythrrdelilah · 5 years

Text

Salted Carmel Cappuccino

A/N: THis was written as a request for @hermionejacobs who requested: ‘ I love you page and the holiday list idea, so I wanted to ask if you could write a Sam Winchester x reader for the hometown/new coffee shop owner prompt at Christmas time. Love you x’

Thank you so much for requesting! You are super sweet! Thank you for the compliment! Love Ya! I hope you enjoy! This was my favorite of all of the prompts and it was the only one requested so I’m excited quite frankly. This note is after I finished writing: Sorry that it ended so abruptly, i ended up liking it so much that i might turn it into a full fic on wattpad or AO3. If i didn’t finish it now I would get too carried away. Sorry. Also, if I do continue this, I will change up the way they get together.

Word count: 2,564

Warnings/tags: Fluff, abrupt ending, Holiday, Hallmark level Cheesy

Pairings: Sam x Reader au

As you stepped off the plane at 9 in the morning, you could only think of two things; where to get your morning cup of coffee, and the nearest heater. Luckily, the airport was warm after you got out of the long glass tube from the plane to the gate. You pulled your carry on behind you as you tried to remember the way to the baggage claim. It had been a while since you had been home. You helped film a baking competition in LA for the last 6 years. It was your lifelong dream and everyone knew it, however, with all of the holiday episodes and year round filming, you never made it home for holidays. This year, you managed to take a two week vacation for the holidays. You hadn’t told any of your family however. You wanted it to be a surprise. Especially to your parents. You knew that the family were all going to be at your parents house this year, your grandparents coming down from Niagara on the Lake. It was the perfect time to come home.

Your metallic pink suitcase came slowly around the carousel, the airport being small there were only four carousels for luggage making it easy to find yours. You pulled it off and walked outside. The cold peircing your skin. This was one fact you had never missed about your hometown. It was freezing. The snow covered the ground like a thin white blanket, the morning sun barely making it glisten. The airport traffic was slow, making it easy to find a taxi. You watched the familiar town pass before you as you watched out of the window. Your old high school empty, except for Mr. Stylinski’s car, your old theater teacher. He was always there late and it seemed nothing had changed.

As the car pulled into your old neighborhood, you noticed that the neighbors Christmas lights were even more extravagant than you remembered. The taxi pulled next to your driveway and you stared in awe at the Gastovs sparkly lights in their trees, fake Icecicles around their house that shown lights, and even the inflatable Christmas land that includes a Santa, elves, frosty, and a snow globe you could stand in with fake snow trickling around you by air. The snow on the ground only an accent. You stepped out into the brisk air and pulled your suitcase, carry on, and purse along with you. Your parents had their usual fairy lights on the trees and plastic reindeer out front. Classics. Your moms car was in the driveway, meaning your dads truck was in the garage. Everything was exactly the same. You took a deep breath, walked to your espresso colored childhood home door, and knocked three times. You heard chattering around and a jingle of the door knob before the warm air welcomed you. Your mothers face lit up. She was taller than you, as you are a rather short individual, so when she excitedly wraps her arms around you without a word, you felt as though you were tackled. “Hey mom,” You laughed, dropping your luggage and hugging her back. You had a stream of tears rolling off of your face out of nowhere. You had not expected to be this excited to see your mom, however, all of the feelings rushed out at once.

“(Y/N/N)... what...how… why…?” Your mom asked all of the obvious questions while in shock. You laughed and pulled away from her hug, “Let’s go inside and talk about it. I’m freezing.” She nodded, rubbing both of your arms with her palms like firewood. You walked into the familiar living room instantly feeling like you were 17 again. The suede couch against the wall, tv against the windows by the front door. You placed your luggage down by the entrance to the hallway. The air felt like you stepped into a fire pit, which was nice. "Where is dad?" You asked, walking into the kitchen. It was remodeled like you had planned. Your mom FaceTime you everyday after you had sent the money for the contractors. You two spent three months of face timing every minute you had to plan this kitchen. The marble tiles, the rose gold finishing on the white cabinets.The double ovens next to the fridge.

Your mom walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a coffee tin. "He went to work. You know your father. He can't ever relax. Coffee is empty. How about we head downtown? Catch up over some coffee?" She smiled, tossing the can into the trash. "Dads truck is in the garage?" You asked walking over to the door that lead to the garage. She shrugged shaking her head, "the garage door broke yesterday so he took a cab to work. I told him to take my car but he left it in case of an emergency." She explained, grabbing her keys. She took her purse from the table and walked back into the living room, slipping on her boots. They were like men's work shoes but had fluffr on the top edges. She was wearing jeans and a heavy coat now. She looked at you as she opened the door, "we need to go shopping, it seems. Looks like you've forgotten your coat." She walked right out of the door, you following close. She left the door unlocked. For a moment you forgot about safety, but in this town, neighbors watch out for each other. It was nothing like LA.

On the car ride you explained all of the funny stories working on the baking competition show, along with crazy LA stories in general. Your mom had missed you, you just hadn't known how much. You made a mental note to come back more.

Downtown, your mom pulled into a meter-less parking spot, one thing you missed most. You got out into the brisk air and followed your mom down the brick road sidewalk. "Let's get coffee first so you can hold something warm while we shop," She opened the glass door to a shop you hadn't recognized. The warm air and espresso smells swirled around your being. Enlightening you. "Is this place… new?" You asked, looking around the brick walked, wooden table, couch filled room. Your town hadn't had any thing new in years. If it did, it was usually a new business from someone already from town. The line was short and students were spread across couches and tables, on their phones or laptops. It was definitely the hot spot in town for college ages to be out this early. The town had a k-12 school that also doubled as a community college. This meant most of the people who were born here, never leave. You were rare.

"Well, it has been here for about five yeaes, " She smiled. You look at the menu, it was quite modern. It fit the LA style you were used to. The building was fashionable to a classic coffee shop as well. Kind of like central perk on F•R•I•E•N•D•S. You scrunched your brows, "the McCall girl? She finally opened one? " You stared at the menu board in aw. The baristas was no where in sight, explaining the line not moving. Your mom shook her head, "No, Scarlet teaches art for the middle school now. You wouldn't know the owner. He moved to town just for the location to open this shop. Smart business move." You nodded. Indeed. The first new business from an outsider in centuries. Also a coffee shop which was better than the McDonalds 20 minutes out of town.

The line began moving and you were next. As you saw the man behind the counter, in a red flannel, sleeves rolled up, hair a little long but tucked neatly behind his ears. His Kaliedescope eyes and kind facial features smiling down at your mom. He was making your stomach dance just by looking at him. This had to be the new outsider. "Mrs. (Y/l/n), good morning. Your usual? Winter special?" His deep voice made your mom smile, she nodded. His eyes darted to you. He stood tall over even your mother. This meant he towered over you. Even behind the counter, leaning with both palms ontop, arms extended. "I haven't seen you before? New to town? Mrs. (Y/L/N), is the perfect your guide I can say from personal experience," He spoke happily. You smiled shaking your head but your mother chimed in, "this is actually my daughter, (y/n)." She interlocked her arm with yours, wizard of Oz style. You waved, "nice to meet you…" You left a space for him to fill in his name.

"Sam. Sam Winchester. Wow! Your mom here raves about you. Says you haven't been home in six years? You must like California?" There was no one in line behind you yet, so he was able to have this conversation. “It’s not too bad. I’ve wanted to come home, just never had the time,” Why were you explaining yourself to a handsome stranger? You had no idea. “Well, let me guess, sugar-free salted carmel cuppaccino… bone dry?” how the hell did he know that? You nod once, eyebrows raised and eyes widened. “You’re good,” You giggled, handing over your card. Your mom tried fighting you off but you hadn’t allowed that. He shook his head, ringing your order up and tearing off the reciept, “It’s on the house. Welcome back.” He then turned and began making the coffee. Your mom pulled you to an empty red couch against a wall with a coffee table in front. You both sat waiting. “He’s handsome isn’t he?” Your mom finally broke the silence. You burst into laughter as your mom waggled her brows at you. This was embarrassing. “He’s okay,” You lied through your teeth. Along with the looks, he was kind and charming. A perfect trio. A few minutes later, Sam had brought your drinks over, setting them on the table. “Mind if I sit? It’s a slow morning,” Sam asked, sitting in the chair across from the couch. You shook your head. Your mom looked at her phone, swiftly picked up her coffee and stood up. “Come to think of it, I have a nail appointment I made last week, I was going to cancel when you arrived, however, honey these nails need to be done, " She spoke, leaving the shop before you could protest. You were left, awkwardly drinking your coffee in front of this Man, when you came to be with your family. "Your mom is really nice. she showed me around the first week, " Sam spoke, eyeing you intensely. "She talked about you always, yet she never showed me a picture of you. Kind of a shame. You're gorgeous, " He spoke nonchalantly.

Your cheeks turned red, you knew this because of the heat you felt radiating off of them. You were blushing. This was highly unlike you. "Um… thanks… you're um… not bad yourself," You flirt. Wait…flirting? What has gotten into you? You are asking yourself so many questions but all of the answers were clear. He was hot. He was kind too. He leaned over the table. "Maybe I could show you around too?privately?" He asked. You shook your head, "I'm from here. Remember? Also, I am back for two weeks for my family." You laughed, sipping your coffee. He watched you intently before quickly shuffling to his feet. He walked to the back and returned moments later. He carried a heavy tan jacket. "Take my jacket until you find a heavy one for yourself. Or just return it after your trip. An LA gurl must be broke with the high living expenses and al?" He placed his jacket around your shoulders and sat beside you on the couch. Wow! What a gentlemen? "I am not broke. I help direct and edit a baking competition show," You flick a grow at him, sipping your coffee. He leaned back nodding his head, seemingly impressed. “So you must know a thing or two about baking?” He questioned. You shrug. You had learned a lot more while on the job, however baking was a hobby of yours. “Well, yes. However, I am better at directing and editing. Need a commercial?” You were joking, obviously, however he did not see it that way. He nods, placing his elbows on his knees, intently looking at you, “Lets do it.”

As simple as that phrase may have been, you spent the next week setting up a commercial for him. You began spending more time with Sam, than your own family, which you didn’t mind. You two had connected in ways you never imagined you would with anyone.

On film day, you arrived dressed warmly, wearing Sam’s jacket as you had this whole trip. If you hadn’t needed to buy a jacket you wouldn’t. You were smart with your money. The local film students at the community college have been working with you all week on this project. This was a perfect opportunity to build their portfolio and they worked for free, which Sam liked.

“Scene!” You shout after the final shot was edited. You were pretty fast with editing, especially on commercials because they were short in length. The college students had left to finish their versions to put in their portfolios as their own, while you did the official editing. Sam walked swiftly over to you, your coffee in his hand. He sat back on the couch as you hit play. “This… this is amazing! You’re so talented!” Just then, his soft lips crashed into yours. It felt sudden. You only knew him for a week. Yes, your souls connected, maybe that is why you hadn’t pulled away. His lips were soft, warm, and had a slight hint of coffee. When he pulled away your heart sank suddenly. Had you wanted it to continue? “Sorry…” He stuttered. He looked worried, “I respect you. I promise. I just… i think you’re amazing.” Your cheeks turn bright pink as you looked at him. You press your fingers gently on your lips and giggle softly, “Since when do you drink Salted Carmel Cuppuccino’s?” He chuckled, relaxing once more. “It’s fine. I think you’re pretty amazing too,” You state, placing your hand on his knee. He lets out a deep breath, before leaning closer to you. His voice was shaky but rasp, “Stay? Your mom misses you. You could always run a show here? The city is only an hour away you could find a job there?” This was too fast for you. This wasn’t some lifetime christmas movie. “Listen… I just met you a week ago. Thats too big of a decision,” You state, feeling your heart pounding through your chest. “I get that… you feel it too though. This...this connection between us. How else am I supposed to see you? I want... this. I want you,” he has his hand on your cheek now. His palms were always warm from the coffee cups. “Facetime. Planes. For right now… that’s all this can be. A long-distance… getting to know you,” You state before getting up from your seat. You no longer could sit here and leave him hanging like this.

You kept your word, however. When you returned to LA after your eventful trip home, you kept in touch. Talking everyday.

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marshmallow-phd · 6 years

Text

Fighting Instinct

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Jongdae x Reader

Summary: He went out of his way to ignore you. You saw his kindness towards everyone else, but he showed you only irritation. And you couldn’t blame him, considering your first meeting. However, little do you know that he’s hiding a dark world, one that you’re pulled into against your will….

Warning: none

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I Final

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Jongdae was shaking violently underneath you. No one could speak, just displaying shocked eyes and dropped jaws.

Perhaps sensing a bad situation as Jondae’s current state, Chanyeol jumped up out his chair and tried to reach for you, but Jongdae tightened his grip to an almost painful level around your waist and let out a sound you could only describe as a roar.

“How did Eun Na do this?” Jongdae asked, his forehead resting on your shoulder in an attempt to stable himself. Worry washed through you as you rubbed your hand up and down his arm, trying to calm him. “HOW!”

“I can’t know all the specifics,” Soomi answered carefully. “But a spell like this would require a piece of the individual to perform the curse. Like hair.”

Jongdae’s breathing was getting shallower by the second. You could feel each burst of air escaping his lungs on your back. It was hot and angry, danger underlining breath. “Her hair? That bitch used her hair to curse her?”

“That’s the only thing I can think of that she’d be able to get ahold of,” Soomi replied. “Although, from what Junmyeon said, (y/n)’s been here for a while, so I’m not sure how she could have gotten it.”

“They were friends,” Ji Yeon explained. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she kept some around or stole it from her apartment. Just in case.”

“Um, hyung?” Baekhyun turned to the alpha. “He doesn’t look good.”

Moving his gaze over to your direction, Junmyeon approached the two of you at a slower pace than Chanyeol, hands held out like he was trying to calm down a wild animal. “Jongdae, listen to me. You are on the verge of turning. I see you fighting it. At this point, you’re not going to win. You’re emotions are too rampant. If you phase right here, you are going to hurt (y/n). Let her go and run this off.”

Jongdae’s entire body was vibrating now. A continuous growl reverberated out of his chest. But, seeing reason through his yellow eyes, he listened and let you go. He practically shoved you off of him as he ran out the back door. An ear piercing howl cut through the air not a moment later and you could feel the pain and torment he was letting out through it.

Running to you, Ji Yeon pulled you into her chest, rubbing your back to try and sooth you. As wonderful as a gesture it was, you softly pushed her away. You hadn’t realized that some of the shaking was coming from you, but it was subsiding now as your brain started to work again.

“What exactly does it mean to be marked?” you asked quietly, knowing full well even the mates could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room. With Jongdae’s reaction, you knew it was even more significant that you’d previously thought.

Ji Yeon looked to the other girls before taking a step back. One by one, the pulled the collars of their shirts over their shoulder. Each one of them had a scar located on the now exposed skin in the shape of a crescent moon. It wasn’t clean like a cut or burn. The edges were jagged, ripped… like a bite.

You cringed away from the sight. Baekhyun kissed the scar on Hae In’s shoulder, looking so proud.

“Being marked is the most important thing that can happen between mates,” Kimberly explained, releasing her shirt and covering up the moon once again. “It strengthens the bond between the two of you.”

“The urge to mark your mate to keep others away is strong,” Yixing added. “Overwhelmingly so. The emotions that come with not having your mate marked, especially with unmated wolves around, are erratic and at times uncontrollable. The mark tells others to stay away, like a warning about who that mate belongs to.”

“Jongin and Kimberly only lasted a week after he told her,” Sehun snickered.

“Shut up,” Jongin snapped. Kimberly looked like she was about to jump across the table at the youngest member.

You should have expected something like this. Marked doesn’t exactly leave room for the imagination. But being bitten? To the point of being marred for life?

You shook your head, digging your fingers into your hair, “This sounds like a cult.”

“She’s not wrong,” Hae In shrugged when some of the others widened their eyes.

“It’s not a cult thing,” Ming insisted, somewhat hurt by your comment. “It’s just in their nature. It comes with being a mate. And it really doesn’t hurt.”

You frowned. “How is him biting my shoulder not supposed to hurt?”

“I think it’s best that Jongdae explain the rest to you after he calms down,” Ji Yeon cut in. “Some details are more… personal.”

“In the meantime,” Junmyeon, “Soomi, do you think you can find a way to break the curse?”

The witch sighed, not looking very hopefully at the idea. “I can try. I’ll have to contact a mother first. Like I said earlier, that coven had to break our laws to perform this spell. My options might be limited.”

“A mother?” you questioned.

Soomi gave you a soft, sympathetic smile. “Someone who is higher up in the world of witches. Our system is a matriarchy. We have mothers, crones, coven heads. Mothers are those who are older and have spent their lives studying one type of magic in order to guide the younger generations. I think I should contact Mother Calla. She might be the most knowledgeable on breaking curses.”

“What did she specialize in?” You wondered if she too studied dark magic. Wouldn’t that be the best place to start?

“Defensive magic,” she replied. “Protection. However, with that comes knowing about different curses and how to break them. Even if she doesn’t have an answer, she should know a sister who does.”

Soomi kept referring to the witches as female – sisters and mothers – but you could have sworn there were boys there the night of the bonfire as well. “Are all witches girls?”

Her lips fell and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “No. There are male witches as well.”

“It’s a sensitive subject,” Junmyeon intervened. “Some believe that leadership roles should be expanded to all those who are gifted with magic, while others want to remain traditional and keep the female witches in charge. Some have even proposed not teaching male witches anything about magic.”

“Even in this day and age, a son being born into a witch family is taken as a disappointment,” Soomi added.

“That’s…,” you weren’t even sure how to respond.

“Tradition is a hard thing to change,” she sighed. Standing up, she put the envelope back in the wooden box and closed the lid. “Junmyeon, do you mind if I take this? Mother Calla will need to see it firsthand.”

“Go right ahead,” he nodded. “I doubt any of us want it staying here.”

“I’ll be back in a few days.” Soomi headed for the door and then stopped. “Oh, the wolfsbane–”

“I’ll clean it up,” Ji Yeon volunteered.

Eventually, everyone cleared the room. Minseok and Chanyeol volunteered to go find Jongdae and make sure he was okay and had calmed down enough to come home. Your room that you now shared with your mate seemed too isolated and gloomy with just your presence, but what else could you do? So, you sat on the bed with your back up against the headboard as your mind tried not to dwell on the current turn of events.

No one came to disturb you or try to tell you everything would be alright. You’d been cursed to die – by the person who you used to share all your secrets and wishes with, no less. Was she really that desperate for her plan to work? And what exactly was her reasoning? Was it revenge? Pure spite?

You couldn’t figure it out no matter how hard you worked your brain. You just didn’t know enough about Eun Na to pin down a theory. Enough of the truth, anyway.

A shuffling sound broke you out of your thoughts. Jongdae opened the door and entered the bedroom in a fresh change of clothes. You weren’t sure where he got them, but one of the boys must have had it handy for him. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were red. Before you could stand up to go him, he reached you first, dropping to his knees and wrapping you up in his embrace.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he whispered into your lap.

“I’m alright,” you reassured him, returning the hug with force and rubbing his back.

Sighing, Jongdae got up beside you on the bed, pulling you into his lap in the process and resting your legs on either side of him. He pushed a lock of hair out of your face, placing it behind your ear affectionately. “I really could have hurt you, (y/n). I just – that wasn’t what I was expecting when the curse arrived. To have that taken away… I just lost control.”

“Hey, look at me.” You cupped his jaw with both hands, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “You wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“My precious mate,” he murmured, closing his eyes and turning his face so he could kiss the palm of your hand. “Keeping you unmarked for so long has been driving me crazy. But you asked to take it slow.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” you reprimanded. “Besides, now this gives me a little bit of time to come to terms with the idea of you having to bite me.”

Jongdae growled, but you weren’t sure if it was out of irritation or something more… sensual. His facial expression was changing, melting away the sorrow that had been there just a few seconds before. “I wouldn’t just out right bite you, babe. I’d be… distracting you while it happened.”

You gulped. “D-distracting me?”

A smirk grew on his lips. As nice as it was that his mood was lightening, your heart was beginning to speed up in your chest. His hands trailed down until they were resting on your thighs. “M-hm. I’d occupy your attention. You’d never even know it was happening.”

Your palms were getting clammy. That predatory look was showing in his eyes, the kind you knew all too well. His run in wolf form must have burnt off most of the aggression, with the other emotions left in its place.

Agonizingly slow, Jongdae leaned in, barely brushing his lips over yours. You hated it when he did that, purposefully teasing you so you’d be the one to jump in first. And this moment, you took the bait.

You dived into the kiss, lifting yourself up on your knees just a bit as your fingers twined into his hair. Jongdae’s hands left your thighs, one resting on the curve of your butt, hooking you in closer to him, while the other held you steady by your back.

His lips took the dominance easily, guiding yours open to allow his tongue inside. You moaned into the kiss, only egging Jongdae on more. His hips pressed in yours as his broke the kiss and started his way down your jaw. The hand on your back had snaked its way up your shirt, teasingly pulling at your bra. You fisted a handful of his shirt as he took a little snip at your neck.

Maybe it was because of what had happened earlier in the kitchen or because you were just lost in the moment, but your fear of what might come next had subsided greatly. You were sure it’d come back in force once your mind was back to normal, but right now, all you wanted was Jongdae. Perhaps your own instincts were taking over.

His possessive growl was doing something to you inside. You started tugging at his shirt, wanting it off. Jongdae obliged, removing it with a swiftness you hadn’t seen before. He was back at your neck, attacking it with sloppy kisses as your fingers explored his chest. Against your skin, you felt something extend. Teeth. You gasped.

In a flashed, Jongdae had pushed you off of him. His fist slammed against the headboard. “Damn it!”

You reached out tentatively, making contact with his shoulders. His head was now hanging between his legs as his arms rested on his knees.

“Jongdae?”

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” he mumbled, still not looking up.

You crawled over to him, wrapping your legs and arms around him from the side like a koala, kissing his shoulder. “So, I’m guessing that’s the kind of distraction you’d be giving me?”

He actually chuckled, lifting his head and placing a kiss on your forehead. “That was just a taste. I’d hold myself back from marking you until the end when we’re able to. Right now, I just wasn’t thinking about anything but finally having you.”

“Oh.” You loosened your grip on him, taking your arms back as your cheeks heated up.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jongdae practically tackled you as he felt you pull away from him. You were now pinned to the sheets underneath him. He ran his knuckles over your cheek. “You blush so easily.”

“Jongdae….” You squirmed under him, only because his closeness was getting your heart rate up again. Stupid body and its betrayal.

He was resting between your legs as he lowered himself down to kiss you. “God, you’re so tempting.”

“We’ve got time,” you huffed down. Breathing was becoming hard and it wasn’t due to his weight on you. Damn it, he was corrupting you. The worst part of it was you were liking it. “Maybe we could… try things out? Work on your self-control?”

Jongdae chuckled. “Are you suggesting practice rounds?”

You hit him square on the chest. “You are such a jerk.”

He shifted the two of you so he was now lying down facing you, your limbs entangled. Using his free hand that wasn’t holding you to him, he brought your face to his, giving you a very light kiss on the lips. “You know, I don’t think I’ve said it in a while. I love you.”

Grinning, you tapped the spot you’d hit him at with your index finger, melting inside from his declaration. “I love you, too.”

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mikodaiyo · 5 years

Text

Shinto Maiden

Summary: When Kagome was a child, a demon fell out of her well and in love with her. But, Kagome is the Shinto Maiden, a delicacy for demons, promising eternal life in her flesh and unsurmountable power in her spilled blood. On her 19th birthday, who she is, is revealed, and all she can hope for is that if she is to be devoured, let it be by the silver haired demon of her childhood.

| a03 link |

reblogs and comments are not only appreciated but preferred :D

These are chapters 1 - 3 posted for convenience and enticement that anyone’ll be inclined to read the rest

Snowflakes fell quickly from a dark, blue sky dusted with gray cloud dusts and twinkling, white stars. Atop a tall shrine house, a chimney bellowed smoke and, lights brightened the entire house in an amber aura. It's doors suddenly slid open letting in a young, tabby cat with an annoyed mewl and letting out a tiny bundle of brown and red with green eyes twinkling at sight.

Higurashi, Kagome, a quiet child who had a Mama who told her she was wise beyond her years and a Grandpa who told her exciting tales of the magic in their shrine, showed her fantastic swords and samurai armor and taught her how to read old scrolls. Sometimes, she even got to dress as the shrine's priestess and greet people during holidays, leading them to the well to pray while her Grandpa gave fortunes and Mama did palm readings. On those days, children from her school would play with her, thinking her magical and cool.

Any other time however, when Kagome invited other children over to play they would call her strange, telling her to stop using her 'powers' when they played hide and seek or tease her by playing 'Kagome, Kagome' just to get upset when she won and, call her a cheater.

Kagome preferred it more when they liked her... and she blew big puffs of frosty air to distract herself from such sad thoughts.

“Kagome, don't forget to close the door!” She heard her Mama call from the living room, “And stay in the yard!”

“Yes ma'am!” Kagome responded, sliding said door shut and paddling her way to the first step to sit down and safely making her way down the steps covered in icy patches.

First, she would make snowmen-no, snow angels-no! A whole snow army to have a snowball fight with!

“Hurry up and be born, Souta!” Kagome spoke to herself she knelt down underneath The-Big-Tree-With-The-Name-She-Couldn't-Pronounce and dug her hands in a plush pile of snow to begin her first snowman, “Playing by myself is no fun.”

When her Mama had finally decided what her baby brother's name would be, Kagome wore the name on her tongue as if someone bet her she couldn't; Her Mama told her she was big now, bigger than she was yesterday, and even bigger than she was last week, and that meant Souta wanted to catch up. Kagome was excited to have a new friend, one that lived with her so he couldn't leave, one that'd be just like her Mama and Grandpa and like his big sister just the way she was.

Simply remembering that made Kagome extra cheerful, and she held her red mittens against her mouth to gleefully squeal into them.

Which made her miss the bright, blue light that suddenly shined out of the well house, and mistake her sudden shiver as a product of the cold.

Abruptly, a loud THUNK reverberated off of a branch overhead, making Kagome look up in time to see a large pile of snow headed for her. Yelp smothered, Kagome fell face first into her snow pile, so she let out an indignant cry when heaving herself up on her hands and knees.

“You there. What are you doing?” A voice called from up above. Following it, she spotted a boy, dressed in a blue haori and white hakama, with only a big fur around his shoulders like the models in magazines to keep him warm.

...Her Mama always said not to talk to strangers but, Kagome assumed that was just a rule for adults and kids bigger than her; Even though he was up higher, he was probably the same size as her. And the boy was much too pretty to be dangerous. In fact, Kagome thought he looked a little dainty, like one of the porcelain dolls they sold.

“...I'm playing.”

“Underneath the snow?” He cocked his head.

“I wasn't underneath it until you made it fall on me.” Kagome pointed out, standing up to dust her coat off while keeping her eyes on the boy, “Why are you in our tree?”

“My pet pushed this one into the Honekui no Ido.” He said, as if that explained everything.

“Which one?”

“This one.”

“This... you?”

“Yes. This one.”

“You talk funny.”

The boy glared at her, “As do you.”

“Just say 'me'.”

“Make 'me'.”

Kagome blinked, then stuffed her mittens against her mouth to hide her giggling.

“I just did!” She looked up at him triumphantly, and the boy in the tree looked at her in shock, making her laugh more.

Immediately, he jumped down, barely making an indent in the snow or noise in the air, making Kagome liking him to a snowflake himself with all his pretty, silver hair trailing behind him. Once he stood directly in front of her, Kagome saw he was a little taller than her. 'But, only a little', she thought, smiling on.

“What is your name?” He asked after growling.

“Higurashi, Kagome. What's yours?”

His eyes narrowed, “I am Sesshomaru. Prince Sesshomaru, of the West.” He spoke with all the authority his childish, scratchy voice could exude. Even those from other lands, maybe even stranger than this one knew the names of the Western Rule, so the Prince had little doubt that when he heard the name, she would remember herself.

Rarely did Sesshomaru feel the need to pull rank but, he felt a bit foolish at losing her game before even realizing there had been one to lose.

“That's too long, can I call you Sesshy?”

“You will do not such thing.”

“But it's too long!” Kagome whined, and he could smell the tang of oncoming tears even better in the crisp air.

“It is a fine name and you will cease before you insist at once.” He pressed, the growl in his chest growing louder in his ire.

“B-B-But-I c-can't say long things...” Kagome sniffled, and a low whimper escaped her before she was on her way to a tantrum. However, before her whine could escalate, Prince Sesshomaru put his hand over her mouth, and Kagome rapidly blinked her tears away to see again.

“You will say 'Sesshomaru-sama'."

“But-” Kagome began, stopped only by the look he gave her.

“No 'buts',” Sesshomaru sighed, rubbing at his chest to quell the burn inside from his growling, “I will teach you, simply cease.”

Hesitantly, Kagome nodded and Sesshomaru removed his hand, then gestured to the ground for them to sit; Kagome plopped down onto the snow while Sesshomaru gracefully swished his fur underneath himself.

“My name is simple in its beauty, and deadly in its design. Meant to strike a wonderful fear into the hearts of my enemies.” Prince Sesshomaru spoke highly of himself. He merely repeated what his parents had always told him but, he did so in such a way that the words became his own, just as he was taught.

“My Mama gave me my name. She said she saw a star on my chest when I was born.”

“A star?” The Prince blinked, something about such a thing sounded familiar, like something heard in passing the welcoming hall of his castle, something his parents spoke of with other adults. But, since he didn't recall strongly enough, it must have bore as much importance to him then as it did now.

“Yeah.” Kagome finished wiping her eyes and took the chance to really take in the boy's appearance. Big yellow eyes, like the moon sometimes, and even a pretty purple crescent on his forehead. While Kagome was sure her cheeks were nice and red due to the cold, his were without any hues or markings, and they looked soft, like dumplings! He really was pretty like a doll, no wonder he was Prince of a whole West!

“Are you Prince of our well, Se-Sess... Maru-sama?”

“No. To only reign over a well would be foolish.” Instead of sighing, Prince Sesshomaru raised a brow at her and asked sincerely, “Do the people here ask foolish questions so often?”

Kagome shrugged, “I dunno. I haven't met every person, Maru-sama.”

“Who have you met here?”

“My Mama... My Grampa... I'll meet my little brother soon... lots of other kids... lots of people that come to this shrine.”

Prince Sesshomaru eyed the shrine behind her. It was weak but, there was indeed a magical tingle about the place.

For the next few hours, this is how they continued. Prince Sesshomaru would correct her on his name, ask her questions about her realm, and decided to answer her silly ones for compensation.

#my fic #sesskag #my fanfic writing has been uninspired lately hopefully i'll get back into the swing of things. anime writing is always fun anyway.#demiko #fic tag: demiko #sk #I can't remember if I posted this on here with a different url but here we go again #i know its on dokuga i should get back on there some time

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marcoacesabo · 6 years

Note

In my honest opinion this world needs more 'Roger is being ridiculously overprotective and refusing to accept the fact that his son is growing up and has two boyfriends, neither of which Roger approves of' fics. Please?

Gol D Roger was a man feared far and wide. Among the emperors of the sea he was by far the most powerful, the one with the most control- everyone knew that all of East Blue was his and a vast majority of the New World was dotted with the Roger Pirates flags- He’s crew had thousands and thousands of members all under sub captains that could be their own emperor if they choose to.

Hell, Shanks was considered an emperor and he was but one of the sub captains that followed Roger around.

Out of the all the emperors, Roger was also the one you want to piss off the less, because unlike the other powerhouse he would hunt you down himself. He would not rest, would not stop until he found his target to punish himself.

Now it was rather difficult to piss off Roger, in fact, he was known for laughing off most offensives, just as long as you didn’t touch his crew or his biggest treasure. Other pirates in the world believed that treasure was One Piece, rumored to be where all the Roger Pirates treasure was located at the end of the world.

It is said that Roger would let you keep it if you managed to find it, simply because he thought the bravest and the strongest of them all should be allowed the power.

But that was just a rumor.

The truth was, Roger’s greatest treasure would never be up for grabs and the man would rather be skin alive than ever letting his little boy go.

After to a father, his child was the most precious thing in the world.

Gol D. Ace just wished his father would let attractive people talk to him. He wants a significant other, dammit.

“Heads up. Redhead and an older man on the move” Rayleigh said not looking up from his mug of beer. He didn’t even sound considered when Ace was in danger the ass!

Roger sprung up from his chair so fast his coat almost falls off, whipping his head towards his darling little angel who was smiling shyly up at a man that was leaning awful close to his boy, one of his large meaty hands placed on the wall near Ace’s head. He had his son trapped against the wall, from the way his lips moved he was telling Ace “Is it true you really never have? I could teach you. I think it is best for us to leave don’t you?”

Ace gave a breathless nervous laugh, face tilt just that bit red- obviously, he wanted nothing to do with this man!

Don’t you worry baby, Daddy will save you!

“I think the fuck not!” Roger sneered releasing a burst of Haki strong enough that some surrounding tables tumbled over. He would have thrown his haki at that bastard but his fainting form would land on Ace, and his child was already having to deal with him being in his bubble too much.

Luckily it was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the bar, including the redhead bastard. The redhead man turns around at the sudden burst of haki looking like a startled wild animal. His green eyes landed on Roger and then he stiffens in horror as the King of Pirates glared him down.

Good. He better fear him.

Roger stomped his way across the bar, people scrambling out of his way, some of them being his own men. His rage rolled off him in waves, making his skin feel tight and his face pull into a sneer so bad that his teeth made a loud clack sound when he snapped them into place.

The whole while he never took his eyes off the shaking bastard, who looked like he wanted to run but was unable to move. What felt like too long he was able to growl into the terrified man face “step away from my son.”

There was a small splash sound as the man pissed himself. What a fucking wuss.

Ace’s displeased “Dad! Leave him alone! Tom’s just buying me a drink!” was ignored as Roger reached out to grab his collar “I see your face ever again and I swear to you, no one will be able to save you”

Meeting go of “Tom’s” - if that his real name- landed on his ass before scrabbling backward, so pale his lips looked like someone slapped some red piece of meat on snow.

Ace step forward trying to help him up, “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this Tom. we can leave if you-”

“No!” The man gasped out tugging his arm free of Ace’s hold, eyes flickering to Roger who’s face was rapid darkening “No! I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry please don’t-I’m sorry!”

With that, the man turns around rushing for the door his stain jean pants scraping against his body with a wet slush sound. A sense of satisfaction filled Roger’s chest even as Ace shouted “ Call me!” when the man burst through the door and dispersed into the darkness.

Mentally Roger patted his own back. Ah, another disaster avoid-

“What is your problem!?” Ace snaps wheeling around with an angry red hue “You ruin everything!”

Roger frown at his child, crossing his arms. It looks like they were going to have the same argument again. It was becoming rather common as of late, which was saddling. What happened to his little boy who cheered each time Roger save the day? “He was dangerous”

Ace hands curls into fists, tight at his side “No he wasn’t! He was just flirting with me!”

“That’s why he’s dangerous Ace! He’s was just trying to get into your pants and I wasn’t-”

“I wanted him in my pants!” Ace cut in, voice filled with so much stress it could have been the cause of the sudden heart attack Roger was feeling “Or a least have him take me out! Dammit, Dad! I want a man’s attention on me without you coming in and ruining each of my chances!”

Roger clutch his chest back peddling as his son continue to rant about all the people he’s been trying to get to know over the years and felt his heart stopping at random moment.

“Ace” He wheezed “No. Not my little baby. He can’t be interested in hugs, kiss or s-sex-”

“I’m not little anymore!” Ace shouted throwing up his arms. His freckled face, so similar to Rouge, scrunched up as he screamed “I am twenty! I want to date!”

Roger started to hyperventilate “B-but you’re so young and you don’t really know what you want yet-”

“Agh! Forget it! I’m going back to the ship! ” Ace slammed a palm against his face, before turning around and leaving the bar ignoring all of Roger’s shouts to wait. The force in which the youth yanked the door, it falls to the ground with a loud bang and he stomped his way out into the street.

His shout of “I hate you!” reaching the ears of everyone in the 5-mile radius.

The pirates and civilian in the bar watched on with mute wonder as Gol D. Roger busted into tears “Whhhaaaa! My baby hates me! Someone help me! My baby!

The next few days, when the Oro Jackson sets out to sea again Ace barely leave his private room. He only comes out to eat or use the bathroom, otherwise, he goes back to his room.

Roger paddles around uselessly wondering what he can do to make his son happy again. The boy hadn’t spoken a word to him when he went back from the bar that night, had even acknowledged his presence as he climbs up the ramp. Instead, his son was staring at a piece of paper he had.

He then had shut himself in his room.

It was so hard to be a parent. You wanted to be your child’s best friends but you had to be stern when it came to keeping them safe and Ace just wouldn’t understand that men (and women) were just trying to use him.

Some might say he was overprotective but Ace was his world. He was his small bundle of joy, the last link between Roger and Rouge. He was the little baby that won Roger over the moment he looked into his son’s eyes the first time they open.

He was the tiny little being that smiles at him, not even an hour after being born. . Every time Roger looked at him he felt his heart warm, felt pride and love for his child. Being a father was the greatest adventure, if you asked Roger, it was almost as amazing as being in love.

Ace is precious

So maybe he couldn’t let go, not yet.

He just had to win his son’s forgiveness.

“What are you doing?” Shanks asks watching his captain balance ramen bowls on every balance part of his body.

Roger grin at him toothy “Bring Ace his favorite for dinner! I’m thinking of having some father-son bonding time”

Shanks’ eyes widen “In his room? right now?”

“What a silly question. Of course right now-”

“You can’t go to Ace’s room!” Shanks shouts stepping in Roger’s path. He seems to realize what he is doing before rubbing the back of his head “I- I mean you can’t right now. It’s pretty late and Ace might be asleep”

Roger frown at him “It’s seven pm.”

Shanks laughs, nose wrinkling slightly- a sure fire sign he’es lying “Well I know Ace said he would be sleeping early like around six so we shouldn’t bother him-”

Hearing enough Roger pushed past Shanks. The redhead tried to desperate stop him but after a firm order to stand down, he let the Captain go on.

Over the years the redhead had become a sort of older brother to his son, and often Shanks knew when he was doing something risk less- like that time he’s boy snuck out to go to a island party or that one time he ate a devil fruit on a dare- and who knows what the boy was up to this time.

Nearing Ace’s door he raised a fist to knock, pausing he heard voices through the door “So-So I just describe how I’m touching..myself to you?”

“That’s right Ace. Tell us in full detail” A unknown voice cooed back.

“Um..okay..I’m-I’m touching” Ace’s voice was laced in nervous trembles as he talked “My thighs and-”

Roger has heard far enough “I think the fuck not!”

He kicked the door open, to find Ace sitting in front of two den den mushi. His boy jumped from where he sat, while the den den mushi had leers on both their faces. His boy was flushed and only wearing boxers

“Aghghhhhh! ” Ace shouted, trying to cover himself.

“Ace? Ace what’s wrong?” The snail with a top hat asked looking worried. “Did you hurt yourself? You’re not pushing yourself are you?”

The one with the droopy eyes was frowning something fierce “If this is too much for you Ace we can just talk normally-

Roger ignored his fumbling child to go over to the sails snatching up the talk pieces to whisper into the speakers “I don’t know who you two are but I will kill you, I will hunt you down until both of your heads crack under my hands. No matter where you go, no matter who you hide behind, nowhere will be safe. You will live only long enough to fear every dark corner, every sound until the day I find you.I will drag out your deaths, till the point where you will be able to explain what purgatory is like right before the life leaves your eyes., ”

He finished his speech with a smile. Roger’s smiles were already far too bloodthirsty and ruthless sharp but this one had a more unhinge tilt to it. The sails looked appropriately horrified.

“Dad! Leave my boyfriends alone!”

“SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE BOYFRIENDS?!”

#marcoacesabo #NSFW-hinted #Roger doesn't his boy to grow up #Ace meet them on the way to the Oro Jackson #Ace is fustrated

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blastron01 · 6 years

Text

Ascendance of a Bookworm – 059

Working Towards Resuming Paper-Making

The snow has begun to melt, and the days have grown clearer. The days are still cold, but my family has said it's no problem for me to go out to Benno's shop, so Lutz and I get ready to make our way there to settle the final accounts for our winter's handiwork. Each person who helped with the work has entrusted me with a small bag to put their earnings into. I put these into my tote bag, along with the last completed hairpins, and we head towards the shop.

Traces of winter still remain: the center of the main road has been cleared of snow, but in the corners of the alleyways there's still some snowmen that have yet to melt, and along the sides of the road there are still mountains of snow that had melted a little bit and then refrozen hard. The faces of everyone who has gone out to meet the new spring are bright, and their footsteps are buoyant as they go to and fro along the streets. The number of carts and carriages on the main road has significantly increased as well.

It looks like the number of people visiting Benno's shop is much higher than normal, so even though we've arrived in the afternoon, where there are usually comparatively few people present, it seems extremely busy. As I ask Lutz if it might be best for us to come back later, Mark appears, walking towards us. It seems as if one of the employees that we've become acquainted with might have noticed us and called him over.

"Good afternoon," I say. "It's good to finally see you again, Mister Mark." "Ah, Lutz and Maïne! Blessings upon the thawing of the snow. May the goddess of spring bring you great favor."

Mark raises his right fist in front of his chest, then presses his left palm to it, fingers together, slightly bowing his head. I have no idea whatsoever what he could possibly be doing, so Lutz and I stare wide-eyed at him.

"Uh? What was that?" "...It's the way you greet someone in the new spring?"

Judging by Mark's tone of voice, he doesn't know how we couldn't know what that was, so I can guess that this is some sort of extremely obvious greeting that is exchanged around here.

"This is the first time I've heard it. Lutz, did you know about this?" "No, it's my first time, too."

If Lutz hasn't heard of it, then it may be something unique to this particular part of the city, or perhaps it's something occupationally-related.

"...Is this maybe a greeting only merchants use?" "It is something that has always been done in my family," Mark replies, "so I haven't given it much consideration, but all of the socialization I have done outside of work has been with other merchants, so that might be entirely possible. Since business booms as the snow thaws, we wish blessings upon the thawing of the snow, and greet our fellows by wishing that the goddess of spring brings them great favor."

Having said that, he teaches us this merchant's greeting. It looks like this is a greeting you give the first time you meet someone in the spring. I'm just going to file this away as something similar to "happy new year".

As Mark did a moment ago, I put my right fist in front of my chest, press my left hand against it, and try practicing the greeting.

"Blessings upon the thawing of the snow...?" "That's right," he says. "May the goddess of spring bring you great favor, I think."

I quietly mutter it to myself over and over, but I'm fairly confident I will have completely forgotten about this by tomorrow. It's times like this that really remind me that I very much want a notepad. I may have a slate tucked in my tote bag, but that's not a notepad.

"The master is presently conducting a negotiation. What matters of business might you need to speak with him about?

In response, I start ticking off the things I'd like to do today on my fingers.

"Umm, first I would like to settle accounts regarding our winter handiwork. Next, since I'd like to resume paper-making as quickly as possible, I'd like to verify whether or not the craftsman has finished making the larger bamboo mats by now. Also, I would like to speak with Mister Benno about my apprenticeship, but it seems he's currently busy?" "I understand. Very well; let us begin with settling your winter's handiwork. He should finish his business while we work."

He guides us to a small table inside the shop. Lutz and I sit down next to each other, and Mark seats himself opposite us.

"These are the last of the hairpins we made for our handiwork, if you please," says Lutz, speaking in much more polite language than he's used to using.

He presents the bag containing the hairpins. Mark removes them from the bag to count them.

"There are twenty-four here," he says. "Including the ones you left with us during the winter, this makes a total of one hundred and eighty-six, is that correct?" "Yes sir, that is correct." Lutz nods, having verified Mark's final count matches the tally we had made on a small board.

Each hairpin is worth five medium copper coins. From that, the handling fee Lutz and I are charging will be deposited directly into the guild. Then I take out the various bags that I'd brought with me in order to make distributing the rest of the money easier, and start dividing it up.

To make sure that Lutz's brothers don't fight, we divide their share evenly across the three of them, excluding Lutz. Splitting it up is easy: each of them gets six large and two medium copper coins. As for my family, my mother made eighty-three, Tuuli made sixty-six, and I made thirty seven. Since these numbers are all over the place, splitting it up is a bit of a pain. My mother winds up with one small silver, six large copper, and six medium copper coins. Tuuli's share is one small silver, three large copper, and two medium copper coins, and my share is seven large and four small copper coins.

"With this number of pins, we should have stock to last us until next winter," says Mark. "There's quite a lot of demand for these! Since there are so many colors to choose from, our customers seem to enjoy themselves picking theirs out."

I smile, imagining a parent and child picking out a hairpin together.

"Ah, is that so? I'm glad," I say. "I made myself a hairpin as well, you know!" "How might it be decorated?" I giggle. "That will be a secret until the day of the ceremony." Mark quirks an eyebrow. "Oh my," he says. "Then, I shall look forward to seeing it on that day. Now then, you next wished to discuss the resuming of your paper-making, did you not?" "That's correct," I say. "We won't be able to actually resume work until Lutz has had the opportunity to visit the forest and check on the state of the river, but since spring has come, I think that I would like to start as soon as possible."

Benno's investment will only continue until the early summer, when our baptismal ceremony will be held. Thus, I'd like to resume our work as soon as we can.

Mark nods slightly. "Very well. I shall ask the workshop about your order. If I'm correct, you wished for two bamboo mats, the size of a contract sheet?" "Yes, sir, thank you very much."

I notice several merchants leaving the back room, as if the negotiations taking place there finished at about the same time we had finished our discussion out here.

"I shall go inform the master of your presence. Please, wait one moment."

After he momentarily disappears into the back room, he returns to lead us in. Since this is the first time I'm meeting Benno this spring, I promptly press my left palm into my right fist in front of my chest, delivering the greeting I'd memorized.

"Mister Benno, it is good to see you again. Blessings upon the thawing of the snow. Oh, um... may the goddess of spring's, um, great favor... huh?"

As I struggle to remember something I'd heard just a moment ago without the aid of a notepad, Lutz looks at me in amazement. He steps in front of me, pressing his left palm into his right fist in front of his chest.

"Master Benno, blessings upon the thawing of the snow. May the goddess of spring bring you great favor." "Aha, yes, that! Blessings upon the thawing of the snow. May the goddess of spring bring you great favor."

Thanks to Lutz jogging my memory, I deliver the proper greeting. Benno, visibly trying not to laugh, returns our greeting.

"Ahh, blessings upon the thawing of the snow. May the goddess of spring bring you great favor. ...I have to say," he says, chuckling, "that was a very sloppy greeting. Make sure you learn to say it correctly."

He taps the table with his finger, beckoning Lutz and I to sit down. We do so, and then talk about the spring well-wishing.

"That was something we just learned from Mark a little earlier, you know. It's not something either of us heard growing up, so say something like, 'very good for your first try', please!" "...Oh, is that so? Then, good work, Lutz. Now then, you wanted to talk about your apprenticeship?"

Benno only praised Lutz, who'd completely remembered the greeting. I pout, briefly, before launching into today's main question.

"I won't be apprenticing here after my baptism," I say. "Huh? ...Wait. Why are you saying this? Is it because I didn't praise you just now? Well, you didn't say it right, but at least you tried?"

He rubs hard on his temples, uncomprehendingly, and forces out some praise for my greeting.

"That's not it! It has nothing to do with that." "If not that, then what?" "Umm, well, I'm kind of weak, you know?" "Astoundingly so, yes."

His interjection stabs straight into my heart.

"Urgh... You were worried earlier about whether or not I'd be able to properly do my work here, weren't you? If you had an apprentice who was always taking days off because of her poor health and was only being assigned easy work that wouldn't put a strain on her body then, if you think about it, wouldn't that be bad for human relations here at the shop?" "Is that all?"

He glares down at me with his reddish-brown eyes, and I remember the other concerns that Otto had raised with me.

"Also, if I'm earning profits from my goods, then isn't there the chance that I'd be making more money than even the veterans who've been working here for over ten years? Money's the easiest way to ruin relationships." "Who told you that?" he says, eyes narrowed. "There's no way you would have come up with that on your own."

I nod vigorously. Back when I was Urano, the only thing I ever did or ever really wanted to do was read, so my field of view was pretty narrow. This time around, I hadn't really been considering anything but my own physical strength. It took Otto pointing things out for me to start thinking about human relations.

"Mister Otto," I reply. "...I see."

Huh? I think his voice just now was pitched a fraction of a step lower... And then, he's got a sort of predatory aura going on now... or am I imagining things?

I tilt my head slightly to the side as I think about Benno's ferocious aura, then say the thing that's been weighing most heavily on my mind.

"Also, you know about my devouring, right? If I were making the decision, then I don't think I'd hire an employee that I wasn't sure would still be around in a year."

It's very likely that any resources spent on my education will go entirely to waste. I don't think a merchant would be capable of wasting resources like that.

Benno rubs his forehead, looking at me with sharply discerning eyes.

"Then, if you're not working at my shop, what do you plan to do instead?" "I'll be transcribing letters or official documents at home, working with Lutz to develop new products on his days off, and from time to time helping out at the gates... basically, I'll just keep doing what I've been doing. After talking with my family, I've decided that it's best for me to do things that don't place too much of a strain on my body." "And being an apprentice and so on would. Got it."

The strain goes out of his eyes and shoulders. He rubs at his temples, looking like he's trying to figure out what he's going to do next. As he mutters to himself, I speak up again.

"Umm, Mister Benno. Do you have any work that I might be able to do at home?"

In that moment, Benno's eyes gleam, and a slow, predatory smile spreads across his face.

"Your writing is very neat, hm. I can send some amanuensis work your way, so stop by with Lutz from time to time. Alright?" "Thank you very much."

What was that just now? I feel like I've just been cornered by a carnivorous beast...

Since my request was accepted so easily, I put aside my deep thoughts and move onto my other question.

"Umm, so if that's the case, what's going to happen to my guild card? I'm planning on selling through Lutz, but I'm not going to have an apprentice's card from your shop, right? I'll be unaffiliated, right?"

We had originally planned around my eventual registration as an apprentice at Benno's shop after my baptism, but if I'm not actually going to be his apprentice, then I wonder what will happen to my guild card? Since it'll be after my baptism, I don't think they'll let me have a temporary registration. However, if I'm not attached to a shop, I won't be able to conduct any business without being registered.

"I don't know what kind of products you're planning on making, but how about we call the storehouse you've been using 'Maïne's Workshop', register you as the workshop head, and get you a card that way? If you enter into an exclusive production agreement with my shop, then our business won't be much different from how it is now." "Workshop head?! That sounds kinda cool! If everything will be more or less the same as it is now, then yes, please, let's set it up like that."

I clap my hands excitedly, and Benno nods happily.

"So," I say, "this is something that I mentioned to Mister Mark, but we're going to be restarting our paper making as soon as we can go look at the river's current condition. We're currently planning on the two of us making the paper until our baptisms, but after that Lutz will be busy with his apprenticeship and I won't be doing an apprenticeship at all, so I'm hoping that we'll be able to pass the entire task on to a workshop you select. Is that okay?" "When you say the entire task, do you mean that you'll still be the one picking the workshop? Is that right?"

Our magic contract stipulated that Lutz and I would be able to have safe, stable employment at Benno's shop. Since this is turning into a new industry, I think the people and the workshop making it would be particularly important to Benno. For me, however, I won't have either salary or extra profit, so as long as a large amount of paper winds up in circulation, I don't particularly care who winds up making it.

"I mean, I don't know anything about workshops, and I also don't know anyone who might want to work on making paper. All I know is that since the process requires soaking tree bark in a river, it would probably be best for the workshop to be near the river, I think." "Near the river, huh... that'll be difficult. How are you doing it now?" Lutz shrugs. "Right now, we're carrying all of our equipment to the river bank in the forest, but doing that every day is really hard... oh, um, difficult, sir." "If you think about scaling things up for mass production," I say, "then the equipment will need to be much bigger, so transporting it to the river will be next to impossible, I think? Well, thinking about that is probably a job for you, Mister Benno, or the people at the workshop." "...Hmm, you're right."

Since it looks like Benno has understood, I'll just leave selecting a workshop and sourcing the tools to him.

"Please take care of selecting a workshop, getting the equipment, and finding suppliers for the materials before our baptisms. As the actual day of the ceremony gets closer, Lutz will go and instruct the workers in the actual manufacturing process." "Me?!"

Lutz's eyes go wide, and he gapes like a fish. I smile sweetly, giving him a big nod.

"I mean, aren't there steps that I can't do myself? I think it would be best for you to show them how to do it in person. If after spending the entire spring doing it over and over you're still uneasy about it, then I can go with you too, so you'll be fine!" "You're really passing the entire task off, aren't you," says Benno, with an amused chuckle.

I glance guiltily to the side. I'm definitely well aware that I'm seriously shirking a lot of responsibility here. However, more than just making prototypes, improving distribution, and setting up mass production, I already want to be setting my sights on the next project. If I spend all my time fussing over the particulars of making paper, then I'll never actually get to making books, no matter how much time I spend. This spring, I want to make enough paper for me to use, and then turn my attention towards printing.

"Then, please excuse us."

With my heart full of my time-limited ambitions, I depart from Benno's office.

The next day, the fast-working Mark delivers new bamboo paper mats to our storehouse. Hearing that, Lutz takes the opportunity to check on the condition of the river when he heads to the forest for his gathering.

"Lutz, how'd it look? You think we can make paper?" "There's a little more water flowing than usual from all the snow thawing, but not more than we'd get after a heavy rain, I think."

And, with that judgement, we officially resume making paper. First thing in the morning on the following day, Lutz fetches the key, then we immediately head off for the storehouse. As we walk along the alleyways, still cold enough that you need a coat, I spend my time thinking about the day's work.

To start with, when we get to the warehouse, we'll check to see if the outer bark we'd harvested from the tronbay back in the autumn and left out to dry is still alright. If it is, then we'll start by working on stripping that down to its inner back. While that happens, I'd like to use the preserved folin inner bark to start making actual paper.

"I'd really like it if we could wait for the water to get a little warmer, though..." I say. "Yeaaah, you're right. But, if you keep in mind that we're trying to save up money, the sooner we start the better."

Benno's support for our paper-making enterprise is only going to last until the day of our baptismal ceremony. Until then, we want to do as much as we can to earn as much as possible.

"I wonder if the tronbay bark's going to be alright...?" I say, wondering aloud. "That's been airing out this entire time, so it's probably going to be completely dried out by now." "It wasn't drying in the sun, so I've been really worried about mold growing all over it!"

Since we left it alone all winter, it's only natural that it would have completely dried out by now, but whether or not it dried in a way that we actually want is another question entirely.

"There aren't really any molds that grow on tronbay," says Lutz.

He may be shrugging it off, but since we completely skipped the sun-drying part of the process altogether, I can't help but worry.

We arrive at the storehouse and unlock the door. With a creak, the door opens. Through the gloom and the dust, dark, wavy strips of material hang from the shelves like strands of seaweed, giving the entire place a supremely ominous air.

"Is it really going to be okay?" I ask. "I think I'm a little worried now," Lutz replies.

I prod at a strip of outer bark, finding that it's completely dried out. Since the outer bark itself is dark, I can't really tell from the color alone whether or not it has mold growing on it.

"How about we bring these to the forest and try soaking them in the river for now?" I mutter to myself.

"What all are we going to bring to the forest today?" asks Lutz, sweeping dust off of the wooden box with back straps that he'd left in here. "Umm... Lutz, how about you bring the pot and some ash? And, hm, I don't think we'll need something as big as a tub, but maybe we should bring a bucket as well. It would be kinda bad if we couldn't find any firewood in the forest, so maybe we should bring some with us? I'll bring this outer bark and this preserved folin inner bark, and my 'chopsticks', too." "I don't get why we need a bucket, but if you say we need it I'll bring it."

I gather up the dried tronbay outer bark and the folin inner bark from where we'd hung it in the warehouse, fetch the pair of cooking chopsticks Lutz had made for me, grab a few dust rags, and put it all in a basket. The two of us strap our supplies onto our back, and rush off to where the other children are meeting to get ready to go to the forest.

We all arrive at the forest, and as the other kids scatter about to go foraging, Lutz and I head for the riverbank. Lutz starts getting the pot ready right next to the river. He sets it down on a stove made of piled-up rocks, then uses the bucket to fill it up with river water.

"Oh," he says, "if we use this then we don't have to get soaked when we get water from the river. I knew you had a good reason!"

If you want to fill up the heavy pot with water directly from the river, then you've basically got no choice but to get in the river yourself. It seems like Lutz hadn't quite been thinking ahead that far.

Now that the pot's full of water, we use the firewood that we brought to get a fire started. While we wait for the water to boil, I want to start soaking the outer bark in the river, if possible.

"Wow, that looks cold," mutters Lutz, staring at the river, swollen with water from melting snow.

If we want to make sure that the bark doesn't wash away as it soaks, we need to build a circle of rocks to put it in. The one that we had made during the fall, however, has fallen apart, and only about half of it remains. Our first step thus has to be building a new stone circle.

"You can do it, Lutz!" "Eek! Cold!!"

Lutz squawks as he wades into the river of ice water. If I were to go in myself, I'd almost certainly get another fever and my family would probably bar me from leaving the house for a while, so basically the only thing I can be doing to help is to cheer him on.

For Lutz's sake, I walk around the area, gathering up fallen firewood. While I'm in the middle of that, though, he calls out for me.

"Maïne, bring the bark over!" "On it~!"

As soon as the bark's in the circle, Lutz leaps out of the river, running to the stove to warm himself up with the fire. He holds his bright-red hands up to the fire, rubbing them vigorously together. I fill up the bucket with some warm water from the pot, then set it down in front of him.

"Put your hands and feet in here. If you don't warm them up, you'll get frostbite!" "...Ah, warm... this feels great!"

He sticks his hands and feet into the bucket of warm water, heaving a sigh of relief. The hot water starts cooling down almost immediately, but thanks to that foot bath, it looks like his body's warming up a bit.

The pot has started gently simmering, so I add the ash and the white bark to it, stew it well, then get Lutz to put it in the river to rinse out the spare ash. Thanks to Lutz's hard work, even if it did seem like the freezing river had him on the verge of tears, our job for today is finished.

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#honzuki #honzuki no gekokujou

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