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long-hot-stories · 10 days

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The Peddler & the Fairy: Part 10

A night of drinking at a most unorthdox establishment.

In 10 parts, by Scholarly Mori. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

The temperature rapidly fell as the sun set behind the horizon. A light snow had begun to fall, muting the steady click-clack of the carriage as it meandered under garlands of holly leaves and colored lanterns.

"Why's it look so festive, Herd-mate?" Asked Reina, poking her head in the window.

"Hard to say. Depends on who's celebrating what. There are holidays the whole city engages in around the winter solstice, but it's not uncommon to see communities enjoy time amongst themselves to honor the end of a productive year with family and friends."

Humans and demi-humans alike were huddled in warm clothes, their breath mixing with the steaming mugs they held in mittened hands.

Not dressed in her warm winter clothes, Suvi crossed her arms. Jeni, wanting to be helpful, wrapped her wing around the shivering ratgirl. "This one has body heat to share. Friend Suvi should feel free to request it whenever she needs."

Suvi snuggled into the warm owl girl's feathers, surprised by how small she felt underneath all the fluff. "That's, uh, nice of you. I'm not used to being so close to people, but I'll try."

Devin smiled at the two girls' growing friendship. He was especially happy to see Jeni opening up to someone besides himself and, more recently, Azalea and Reina. Since her return from the academy years ago, he had seen her interact with customers, but it was always curt and brief.

Azalea popped her head out from Jeni's other wing. "What's your favorite time of year, Suvi?"

"Hmm, other than the cold, this is my favorite time of year because all the warm drinks are free."

"Agreed! Warm drinks are wonderful," the fairy voiced as she made eyes at Devin, "especially when it's freshly made and enjoyed with loved ones."

"You'll specifically enjoy tonight then," hinted Sable. "Not the one you're probably alluding to, but our girls are skilled in a wonderful assortment of beverages."

Reina trotted up next to the driver's seat. "How long have you worked at Whitegold, Miss Sable?"

"This is my tenth year."

"What do you do there?"

"I fulfill all the managerial work: finances, menu coordination, and act as scout and recruiter for potential new hires. Our turnover rate is rather low, though. The boss used to be more involved, but now she takes a very hands-off approach, but you are in luck tonight. She is gracing us with her presence this evening."

"I look forward to meeting her."

Sable hid a smile as she turned down a side street tucked away from the more festive pockets of people. She pulled back the reins, stopping in front of a three-story building made of dark walnut. Below a balcony jutting from the second story hung a giant cast iron sign embossed with two pitchers pouring intertwining liquids. The building was wider than it was long, and several brick stairways ascended to a tall set of double doors in the middle.

Sitting on the bottom step stood a familiar figure. Azalea darted out of the cab window and into an open embrace. "Mama Sanna!"

"Hello again, little Azalea."

"What are you doing here?!"

"I run the bakery during the day and work here part-time at night."

Sable slid down from the driver's seat and opened the cab door. "She's security. Also does a bit of the heavy lifting when we get shipments in."

"So you knew you were gonna see us tonight!" the fairy exclaimed.

"I hoped so. I didn't know when you were coming, so I wanted a chance to at least say hi before I go about my duties tonight. You are in for a lot of surprises tonight."

Azalea jumped up and down in the grizzly woman's large, clawed hand. "I love surprises!"

Sanna laughed. "Some of them, I'm sure you will, others; might be a bit harder to swallow at first, and a few," she commented while looking specifically at Devin, "might take some getting used to."

Before Devin could ask what she meant, she was already leading the carriage away and offered, "You folks have a good evening." With a wave, she and the carriage disappeared behind the far side of the building.

Sable climbed the stairs and held the doors open. "Now, since we are here," she cleared her throat to continue, "welcome to 'Whitegold,' a finer dining experience than you'll find anywhere in the western half of the kingdom."

The group entered the lobby, led by Devin, who stopped in front of a 'please wait to be seated' sign. "This is quite the opulent waiting room."

A five-tiered chandelier made of old antlers, with pine-scented candles hung from the arched ceiling entryway, the light reflecting off a gold and alabaster stained-glass wall.

Somewhere behind it were moving, shadowy figures holding lutes, pipes, and a tambourine and playing a relaxed and light-hearted melody.

Sable moved in front to address them. "We are a somewhat exclusive establishment with many noteworthy individuals, influential business folk, and city administration as members. While the general public can make an unsubscribed reservation, the wait time can be rather long."

"We wanted to create a relaxed but classy atmosphere and provide uncommon services to those willing to spend for it. While it's more common amongst smaller businesses, we do house most of our employees on the third floor."

"Looks like you've done well for yourself," Devin suggested.

"Our success is due to the accumulated effort of all our girls. This way, please."

She led them through the left of two arched passages. "We have twin wings on each side, allowing us to seat around forty individuals. We designed the main dining room to be circular. To that end, we've positioned the tables for larger or more uniquely shaped demi-humans around the outside and smaller ones toward the middle. We've found it makes diners feel like they belong. It also gives an unobstructed view of one of our centerpieces."

She motioned to the middle of the room. A tawny fountain with five sandstone likenesses of two satyresses and a human girl were arrayed in a circle. In the center, taller then the rest, posed a rarely-seen holstaur. Each statue stood naked, poised with chest thrust out and nipples spraying wispy streams of water into the collecting basin below.

"Makes quite the first impression," Azalea mused.

"It was an impromptu addition." Sable waved toward a pair in topless uniforms. "The flirty saytresses are Eija and Hija. They mainly serve tables. Our holstaur, Janina, runs the milkbar. As far as I'm aware, she's one of only three in the city. A real sweetheart."

The two goat girls were laughing and bantering jovially as they served customer-filled tables. At the bar against the wall, a huge-breasted cowgirl busily mixed her breast milk into customers' drinks.

Sable produced a small set of chimes from her pocket and flicked one of the metal tubes causing a sudden squeak from Suvi. Simultaneously, a human girl standing next to Janina and draining her own milk into a pitcher jumped. She looked up from her work and searched the crowd until she spotted Sable. Whispering to the other two, she trotted over with a big smile, her perky boobs bouncing.

"Hello, Mistress Sable. You called? Shall I prepare a large group table?"

"Not this time, Kirsi. We are headed upstairs."

"The private room, eh? Too bad; they looked like a fun group to serve." Addressing Suvi, "Are you ok, miss? You look a little flustered."

"Y, ya, I'm fine." Suvi flashed a suspicious look at Azalea, to which the little fairy held up her hands innocently.

Devin caught the exchange between the two. "Did something happen?"

"Our toys activated for a second, life-mate. Perhaps Miss Sable's device?"

"Toys?" Sable looked at the chime. "Wait, did you girls feel that?"

"We did."

"Maybe they know Eitri," Kirsi suggested.

"Yes, we know her, and her cousin!" Azalea proclaimed. "We went to their store during our shopping earlier today."

"I see. She must use a set number of sounds for her merchandise. All the tables are given a bell to call a serving girl to their table if they need anything." Sable held up a small tablet of twenty tubular pipes split into top and bottom. "This is the master set. I can call each girl using it should I need to get their attention. Depending on how I hit it, I can relay instructions."

Kirsi turned around and pulled up her dress, revealing an assplug decked with a five-petaled white flower with a yellow center firmly nestled in her apple-shaped bottom.

Azalea swooped down to get a closer look. "Oh! How cute! A plumeria?"

"Oh, is that what kind of flower it is?"

"Yes! They grew all over the fields near my home," Azalea divulged before flashing her own. "We got one too!"

"How lovely, like a little cut gem. It does a good job of catching the light. I've never had anything in my ass before, so I'm still getting used to it."

"You and me both," mumbled Suvi.

Sable patted the peppy girl's head. "Kirsi is our newest full-time employee."

"That's me! This is my third week. I'm mostly waiting tables and providing

supplemental milk when needed." She pinched her nipple, letting a few droplets fall onto her finger to show everyone before sucking it clean.

Kirsi felt a tug on her sleeve. "This one couldn't help but notice the uniqueness of your uniform, especially the way it draws the eye to your mammary glands."

"You like it? It's woven of high-quality sheep girl wool." She raised her arms and performed a little spin.

"Designing it together was such fun, but we had a hard time deciding because we all wanted different things. The sisters like to flirt and flaunt their bodies, so they wanted a lot of cleavage showing, but Janina wanted it functional -- also, her boobs are enormous -- so no tight clothing. We opted for a full cutout to let our boobies hang free."

"Since all our customers love our milk, I thought we should represent that?' I suggested the boob window be heart-shaped and framed with lacey bows."

Stable straightened one of the ribbons. "The proprietress and I wanted to make sure they felt they had a say in how they presented themselves. The girls comprised three groups, so each was responsible for their group's base design. After two weeks tossing around ideas back and forth to the manufacturer, this is what was settled on."

"Do you normally not wear the same uniform, Miss Sable?" Asked Reina.

"Only when we are at full capacity and need more hands helping out."

"Which is almost never because she thinks customers don't want to see a woman with small boobs. She's only one size smaller than me, and I keep telling her size doesn't affect how much milk she produces," Kirsi explained with a giggle.

"You girls produce more than enough."

"You're making your customers sad! She has a small handful of regulars who love how she tastes," retorted Kirsi.

"They don't miss me that much."

"Yes, they do!"

Azalea peeked behind Sable. "If Sable also has a uniform, does she have a plug, too?"

Caught off guard by the question, Sable stammered, "I, er, yes, all employees wear one."

"She has a special one only the boss has a bell for," Kirsi snickered.

Sable coughed. "We've spent enough time gabbing. Don't you have tables to attend to?"

"Yes, I just got buzzed! Enjoy your evening, everyone!" She bowed before trotting to a far table.

Sable led the company around the room's edge and to the base of a broad, curving stairway that led up to the second floor. "The balcony seating is for overflow or reserved for special guests and events."

Jeni placed her wing on Devin's arms to steady herself as she hopped up the steps. He lauded the owl girl, "I haven't had a chance to see you really interact with anyone outside your shop. You've come a long way."

She flapped her wings slightly at the compliment. "This one has been most appreciative of big sister Mavis' tutelage before going to the academy and of her fellow students for allowing the social interaction needed to communicate more effectively."

Reaching the top of the carpeted stairs, Sable pushed open a small set of double doors and ushered everyone inside.

A long, carpeted room stretching the length of the tavern formed a semi-circle at the far end. In the center, underneath, and behind the stained glass they had seen at the entrance, was a parrtly-curtained-off stage.

Half-obscured in the dim light sat a woman in a white and blue gown, legs crossed and her talons idly clicking. She gracefully stood up and bowed. "Welcome, eagerly-awaited guests, to an evening you won't soon forget."

Devin squinted. "Mavis?!"

Sable crossed the room and lit the sconces on the wall.

"Hello, little brother!" The smirking raven harpy crossed the room in three strides, embraced him in a light hug, and kissed him on the cheek.

He hugged her back, glad she wasn't going for the mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"I maybe should have mentioned I'm a major investor in your negotiations tonight."

Devin frowned, "You are?"

"I am. I have a lot riding on this, actually."

"That's worrying."

She looked serious for a moment. "Yes, but not entirely in a monetary way."

Devin looked at her, puzzled.

Mavis glanced over Devin's shoulder, "Jeni! Is that you?"

Jeni peaked out from behind Reina. "Greetings, older sister Mavis."

She pushed Devin aside, grabbed the fluffy owl, and spun her around, squeezing her tightly. "It's been too long! I'm so happy to see you!"

Jeni hooted happily. "This one is also joyous at our much-delayed reunion."

"You live in the same city. You should go see her more than once a year," Devin muttered.

"But that's what you're for when I'm too busy, silly."

"You know she loves you just as much as me."

"Not entirely accurate, little brother. Look at this face." She held Jeni out in front of her, "This is the face of a girl who wants to join your harem."

"Since when do I have a harem?" Devin challenged.

"You have three girls with you. Surely, you have room for your childhood friend."

"Um, " Suvi raised her hand. "I'm not really part of their, er, family."

"You're not?" Mavis asked, surprised.

"She was a guide I hired for the girls," Devin corrected.

"And then she became a friend!" piped in Azalea.

"Well, a friend is just a wife you haven't gotten together with yet."

Devin blinked several times, trying to unravel her logic.

"In any case, since you only have two, now you have no excuse," Mavis declared while leering at him.

Jeni, still being displayed like an auctioned item, spun her head backward to look at Mavis. "This one is currently involved in a joint venture with Young Patron in the hopes he will see the benefits one day of being this one's nestmate."

"See Devin? Don't let all this girl's effort go to waste."

Devin sighed. "Can we shelve this for the moment? Don't we have important business to conduct tonight? Speaking of, where is the other party?"

"Everyone's here."

"Eh?"

"I am the other party."

Devin stared at the smug harpy.

"I'm also the owner of this restaurant."

Devin's expression changed to dumbfounded.

"Oh dear, Reina, you should help Devin to his seat. He's looking a little unsteady. Come, come, please be seated while Devin comes to terms about my little surprise! I'll sit here on the far left, Jeni can sit next to me, and you, my dear, ?"

"Suvi."

"Suvi can sit in the middle with Devin. Reina should sit on the far right, and Azalea can sit anywhere."

Suvi sat down. "Are we going to watch a play while we eat?"

"Not exactly, but it is what makes our little establishment unique, as you'll see shortly."

Devin, finally collecting his thoughts, thanked Reina for her momentary care. He took a deep breath, "Mavis, can you please answer a few questions plainly and simply?"

"I will," she said, amused.

"Just to make sure I didn't mishear, you're the mysterious person who arranged this meeting so you could negotiate with me to be a long-distance liaison with an unknown person that I need to find?"

"Yes."

"And you just so happen to be the owner of this expensive-looking restaurant for I don't know how many years."

"Correct. Mine in every sense of the word: originator of the idea, negotiator for the land, designer, and purchaser of the building materials. The only thing I didn't do was actually build it, though I did lay the first brick and hammer the first nail as symbolic gestures."

Devin looked at Sable.

"What Miss Mavis says is all correct," she verified

Devin slumped back in his chair. "Why do you enjoy shocking me with stuff like this?"

"Precisely because you're the type of person who likes to know everything beforehand, and that's no fun! I was planning on telling you someday. I was waiting for the right opportunity." The harpy justified.

Suvi put a hand on Devin's shoulder. "Given the rumors I've heard, it could have been a worse surprise."

Mavis, in an overly-dramatic gesture, raised her wings, "ah yes, the rumors, given shape by overactive imaginations and our exclusivity. Orgies? Debauchery? Rich old men bathing in breast milk while virgins feed them grapes and lick honey off their bodies? Or are you referring to a place where mothers and daughters of the affluent come to get gangbanged by well-endowed demi-humans?"

"Uh, I guess they were along those lines," Suvi tentatively spoke.

Mavis snorted. "I can assure you, nothing even remotely like that has or ever will occur here."

"I want honey licked off my body," whispered Azalea.

Devin shushed her with a glance.

"Although, as I hinted to Suvi about, this is what we are best known for, " Sable rang her master chime.

The curtain parted. On the platform were three similarly-clothed barmaids. Their dresses had been replaced with short skirts hugging and barely covering their hips. Tiny white aprons did their best to cover their fronts.

They were each lined up in front of their matching statuary counterpart in front of another fountain. The most eye-catching of the three was a wolf girl with attentive ears, a bushy tail, and a little fang sticking out of her mouth. The chiseled facsimile behind her was squatting with knees splayed, a smug smile upon her lips, daring all to watch her pee into the pool below.

"Didn't imagine they could get more outlandish than the fountain downstairs," Suvi murmured to Azalea.

The wolf girl stepped forward, "Good ev'en, honored guests. Your host would like ta thank'ya for accepting her invitation to dine with us. This evening, we have been asked to be your exclusive servers to provide you with an experience of such quality you won't find anywhere else in the northern realm! Allow me to introduce your hostess', starting with myself."

The wolf girl took another step forward. "My name is Eeva -- eager to serve and ready to please my alphas, that being you folk, and I'm supposed to tell you something about myself. Well, I suppose I like to wrestle with this pint-sized goblin here." She motioned to the green woman seated to her right."

The she-goblin uncrossed her legs and stood up. "And by wrestle, she means having me pin her down and bully her."

"She exaggerates! She couldn't pin clothes to a line," Eeva retorted.

"Said the girl who denies getting turned on when her face ends up underneath this thick goblin ass!" The she-goblin jumped up, pulled Eeva back and took her place.

"Hey, all! Name's Truulté Gress, or shortstuff, or sexy, or cutie. I'll respond to most anything. I'm the resident shortstack. Second-oldest employee after the housepet here. I love to serve people; in all kinds of ways. Especially when it comes to cuddling our cute, little snowshoe hare, "

"Hallie!" interrupted Azalea.

"Oh, you know each other?" Truulté asked, surprised.

"Yes, we met earlier today at Mama Sanna's bakery for lunch."

Hallie took a small step forward and bowed. "H, hello Azalea, everyone! I look forward to servicing you; I mean, serving you again!"

"Oh ho?" Truulté sidled up to the taller girl. "What kind of service did you provide?" Did it involve bouncing with these strong bunny thighs or handling things with these squishy pawed feet?"

She pushed Truulté away. "Not that kind!"

"She did flash us," disclosed Azalea.

"Ah, typical Hallie things." Truulté put an arm around the bunny girl's slim waist. "We treat her as the little sister in our cozy work family. She is so soft and warm and we often take work breaks to fluff her fur and stroke her ears. Hey, wanna hear a secret? If you feed her her favorite food, her ass twitches."

"Truulté! That was a secret!" Hallie cried.

"If you tell a secret, it's not a secret anymore," the goblin cackled. She flashed a sharp smile, her eyes lively at Hallie's embarrassment. "Maybe I should go get a carrot and show you."

"Noooo!"

"Relax! You know I only bully those I love. I wouldn't dream of making my fluffy bed cuddler sad."

Eeva joined Truulté in hugging Hallie from behind. "And there you have it. That's all of us. Though, I should also introduce our girl-in-training."

Sable reappeared from the kitchen with a disinterested deer girl adorned with a gaudy amount of jewelry. She approached and placed two small buckets of ice on the stage, seemingly more preoccupied with checking the state of her nails than introducing herself. Noticing all eyes on her, she rolled her eyes. "Name's Tuuli. Eighteen. I'm only here because my herd wants me to learn manners or work ethic or somethin'."

"She's very bratty," snickered Truulté.

"M'not a brat; and you're one to speak; walking around with lewd drawings all over your body!"

"These are decorative displays of my marsh goblin heritage. My social status, skillset, and availability. It's common amongst all the tribes."

"Hmph! Looks like a display board for a broth, "

"Now, now," Eeva abruptly interjected. "Tuuli is staying with us for a time to gain valuable life experience. And hopefully a little maturity. She'll be assisting Hallie this evening if she runs dry."

"Whatever. Can I assist her sooner? I'm about to burst," she sassed.

Suvi regarded the deer-girls chest. Her meager sized breasts didn't look particularly full, or even lactating. After thinking a moment she swiftly glanced at the fountain again, and back to Tuuli's belly. With a hint of trepidation, "So, you don't only serve milk here?"

"We were originally called 'The Thirsty Maiden,' Sable responded, 'but we changed it. Now it has a dual meaning. Most people think it stands for the gold-quality milk we offer, which you already saw we do serve. The girls' milk is rich and sweet and is our number one ordered thing. The second most ordered item would be the golden liquid these lovely young ladies are going to share with you tonight."

Mavis smiled amidst the sudden silence.

"We are going to drink their pee?" Azalea queried.

Devin rubbed his forehead. "I should have guessed with you in charge there was bound to be something outlandish about this place. Dare I ask why, and what led to you coming up with, " Devin waved his hand toward the fountain. ", what these girls are offering?"

"Of course you may. It's a bit of a funny story. It originally started as a joke. But maybe I should start at the beginning? Shortly after Jeni left for the academy and you became a full-time merchant, I felt a bit listless with you two gone. One day, during a walk through town, I overheard a group of girls complaining their milk bar wasn't giving them enough hours and their chests were sore with all the excess. It inspired me to try my own attempt at it since the city was offering incentives to start new businesses."

Mavis placed her wing on Sable's arm. "Sable was my first hire."

The weasel woman crossed her arms. "You kinda manipulated me into it."

"'Manipulated' is such a strong word. I delicately tantalized her into saying yes."Mavis uncrossed and recrossed her legs. "You see, after I made the decision, I was headed to the administration building when I spotted Sable in an alley. Poor thing was a horny mess."

"I could have handled myself." she huffed.

"I believe you, but wasn't it so much easier getting to the sex shop with a supportive shoulder to lean on?"

Mavis turned her attention back to Devin. "You might have heard before, but when weasel girls go into heat, it can actually be life-threatening if they don't mate after a period of time. Or at least make their body think they did. So, one dildo and thirty minutes of orgasm denial later, I was rewarded with a yes and she received an orgasm she has yet to forget."

"What was I supposed to say in my condition?"

"Mavis, I'm disappointed in you," Devin chastised.

"It's alright, Mr. Ebonplume. What's done is done and I'm not actually mad. I wasn't in immediate danger, yet."

"Still, "

Mavis stroked Sable's hand affectionately. "I know I have many attributes that could use ; self-improvement, and I can be pushy at times. I hope I've gotten a little better?" She fluttered her eyes at her co-worker.

"Your teasing nature could be toned down."

"It's how I show my affection to those I care about. Just making sure you know I'm always available if you need my special touch. I don't want you to end up so needy, again. You are my closest friend, after all."

Sable exhaled and squeezed Mavis' wing affectionately.

"Anyway," Mavis continued, "we recruited Eeva shortly thereafter, and since then, the business took off, but it's hard to reach the top when you're like every other tavern. It was during our third year. We had two regulars who had come from another pub who were tipsy. I was drying glasses while they gushed to me about how pretty Sable and Eeva were, how much they enjoyed their milk, and the warm welcome they always received, etc., etc."

"Lady Mavis, your placsh alwaysh provide the bwst milk and servish than anywhere else in the sshity."

Mavis bowed her head. "You know we are just a humble establishment like any other. Though I'm happy we are able to please you."

"No, iisssh true, other placises drinks taste like piss compared. In factsh, gives piss a bad name. I bet your girl's piss would taste better then what they offer."

"It was meant to be a joke, obviously, but for an unknown reason that night, I kept thinking about what they said. I know a lot of demi-humans use urine for displaying their physical and social status -- basically advertising. So I thought, in the right situation, perhaps we could use it to advertise and enhance what no one has ever offered before. For humans, well, we probably wouldn't get many of them ordering unless they had a certain kink for it. But I don't mind a challenge, so we presented the idea to Eeva."

Eeva rocked back and forth on her heels. "I thought the boss's idea was crazy, but if she wanted me to pee in a mug for customers, I didn't have a problem with it."

Sable passed out utensils as she commented, "We wanted to keep our new drink category low-key, so we didn't display it on the front page of the menu. Several days passed before anyone even asked about it. We were sure the first customers to order it were going to be demi-humans. Imagine our surprise when it turned out to be two young human lads with too much bravado."

"After explained what it was, they dared each other to try it. Coincidently, that just so happened to be a time when Eeva was in heat," Mavis chortled.

"Mistake number one," laughed the wolfgirl. "While they themselves didn't notice, others did. Word quickly spread, and I had to swat down overtures all week. It was great for business, but with the wrong kind of advertising. Soon after, we hired Sanna to impose if the people got too pushy."

Sable handed out white linen napkins. "It gained popularity, but Eeva's bladder can only hold so much, so Truulté was hired to meet demand."

"I'm wondering, Mavis," Devin interrupted, "if this place was doing so well, why did you take the delivery job?"

"Simple. I wasn't satisfied. I believed we had the potential to grow, and I wanted to push us into serving more upscale clients. I called a meeting after we closed one night, and together we hatched a two-step plan: form a partnership with import merchants and appeal to a new demographic of customers who might have an interest in more exotic fare. Clientele with too much money, willing to spend for the rare oddity or novelty."

"The delivery business was only to establish the second part of the plan. I worked my way up to my current position to gain access to the upper echelons of society. You'd be surprised how far a little hint here or a little suggestion there to the right person will go when they are grateful to you for delivering their important things.

"Once we had a wide selection of drinks on the menu and the clientele to support it, we introduced memberships and used the funds to renovate, allow the girls to live here, and reinvest into the business you see today."

Devin looked down at the customers having a good time on the bottom floor. Typical Mavis -- capable and ambitious but with a tinge of reckless brazenness. She was the type of person who worked hard in the beginning so that later she could leave it in others' hands.

"Well, dear brother? What do you think?"

Devin looked up. "I'm still a bit overwhelmed by all of this. I don't know what to say."

Eeva eyed Devin and Reina. She smiled predatorily and crouched down. "How about looking at the menu and telling me what you want to order for starters?" She flapped the poor excuse for an apron alluringly. "I'm sure you'll like at least one of our drinks. My bladder is full, and you have exclusive access to all of it tonight."

Before Devin could make up his mind, Reina timidly raised her hand. "I, I would like to give it a try."

"Excellent." She leaned back and stretched the apron taut. Pinned to the fabric was a small paper menu. "Depending on what drink you order, we have a categorized list of appetizers designed to match."

Without missing a beat, she flipped the apron up, revealing her lack of undergarments. "On the back, we have the drinks available from me specifically. Of course, you're free to order from any of us. They come in three grades: grade one: light, grade two: middling, and grade three: strong."

"If you just want to dip your toes in, I recommend grade one. Hallie's drinks tend to be sweeter. If you're feeling a little daring, you should go with grade two. Truulté has a pretty unique earthy flavor and is a bit more potent, but If you want the full experience, I suggest three. A deep, rich taste with plenty of me mixed in."

"What determines the difference?"

"Time. Grade one is easy, chug a bunch of water and wait about thirty minutes. Middling maybe an hour or two. Truulté and myself are usually the only ones who supply grade three because we can hold it for a long time.

"I think I want to try the strongest."

"Going all in! My kind of girl. And how bout you, sir? Dare to follow in her hoofsteps?"

Devin looked at Reina. "She did offer to let me try her own once."

"Oh? And didja?"

"No, but; I guess it might be a bit rude, given all the work you put into setting this up. I'll try yours as well."

"Perfect. So which one would ya like me to make ya's? Or do you want it straight and pure in a glass?"

Devin ran his eyes down the menu.

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

Dark 'n' Uriney

grade 3

ginger beer

Golden Honey Rye

grade 3

rye

honey syrup

tangerine juice

dash of bitters

"Piss" co Sour

grade 3

lime juice

sugar syrup

dash of bitters

harpy egg white

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

He tried focusing on the list of drinks but the closeness of her cunt and the smell of her musk was too distracting.

She pushed her hips forward a little. "I don't mind you staring. It's part of the enjoyment. Unique, isn't it? Quite a bit different than most other demi-humans. Looks like a little triangular cookie, huh?"

Devin looked to Reina. She was staring as much as he was.

"It is quite a peculiar shape," agreed Devin.

"Isn't it hard to not make a mess?" Asked Reina.

"It was at first, but I've managed to make it work."

"This 'Piss'co Sour looks interesting. I will try that. What about you, herd-mate?"

"I'll have the same."

Eeva wagged her tail. "And how would you like for me to pour'em?"

Reina looked up questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Probably easier to demonstrate," suggested Sable. "Why don't you show your most requested way?"

"Alright." Eeva took the tray Sable handed her and set it to the side. "Oh, I should probably add, these are nonalcoholic since many demi-humans have a hard time handling it."

"I don't mind. I prefer my head to be clear during business negotiations." Devin confided as she set out two crystal glasses.

She crushed ice into each glass and set them aside to chill. Then she unscrewed a metal mixer and separated the halves.

Holding up a green fruit, she said, "Betcha never seen one of these!"

Devin thought for a moment. "I can't say I have."

Reina shook her head.

"It's called a lime and comes all the way from the southern continent." She picked up a knife and gave it a spin. "Slice it in half, place it in a vice, and squeeze one ounce of juice out. Then we add half an ounce of simple syrup. Next, a harpy egg, laid just this morning."

Devin glanced at Mavis.

"No, it's not mine, but maybe it should have been," she smirked.

"We place the yolk in a strainer and separate the egg white into the mix." Eeva dug out ice from a bucket and scooped it into the mixer. "I like using bigger chunks, so it whips up the egg well."

"And lastly, the main ingredient." She got down on all fours, turned sideways, and lifted her leg. "Before, I used to make drinks in the kitchen, but customers requested to watch the whole process often enough I considered making it more exciting, experimenting with different positions to make a show of it."

Running her fingers around the edge of her oddly-defined, plump lips, she splayed them, making sure everyone could see. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her bladder. Her pee hole quivered as a steady stream arched into the glass.

Eeva carefully crooked her finger, stroking a small protruding nub near the bottom; panting as the pressure in her bladder lessoned while the pleasure increased. With the two glasses nearly full, she clenched the stream, put her leg down, and wiped her fingers clean.

After screwing on the mixer top, she shook the contents vigorously. "Then we pour it through another strainer into each glass and add a few drops of bitter. Kirsi suggested I drag the drops together to form small hearts, saying it looked cuter. And for the final touch," She slid her fingers between her folds and traced the rim of the glass with her arousal before serving it. "I usually only do this when I'm in heat -- when my pheromones are strongest. Drives the demi-boys crazy. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Reina seemed to be more into this than Devin felt, but in the spirit of the moment, they clinked their classes and took a sip.

Reina nodded her approval. "I am quite taken by the silky tartness of it. I am inclined to try one in every grade now."

Eeva's tail wagged happily. "Told ya you'd like it!"

"I have to admit, it's surprisingly good." Devin agreed. "Never tasted these combinations of; flavors before."

"I'm proud of our girls and their mixology skills," Mavis effused. "Would you like to try one, Jeni?"

"This one's curiosity is piqued, older sister Mavis. This one would like to try Truulté's."

"Of course, little bird." The she-goblin flipped up her apron.

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

Wee Sting

grade 2

spoon of runny honey

pressed apple juice

splash of ginger ale

lime or apple garnish

ice

Cosmo"pee"litan

grade 2

lemonade

cranberry juice

syrup

squeezed lemon

ice

Mo"wee"to

grade 2

sugar syrup

soda

mint leaves

ice

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

Jeni bobbed her head as she read her options. "This one would like to try the cosmo'pee'litan."

"Exquisite choice, and I have a fun way to 'pour' it! Let's move things out of the way so I don't knock them over, and roll over onto my back. Place this here, and; up we go."

She raised her hips pulling her short legs over her head. Running a finger across her pee hole, she pressed down on her bladder with her thumbs. With her satisfied exhale, her golden stream arced up, landing in the container perched between her breasts."

Jeni clapped her wings. "This one is impressed with your flexibility and coordination. Would it be impolite to compliment the orderliness of your genitals?"

Truulté laughed. "Not a compliment I've received before but thank you. You must not have seen too many naked girls. This snatch aint dainty, but I've been told many times I'm fun to eat, and to that end, I keep myself as smooth as can be."

Patting herself dry, she righted herself, arranged the tray before Jeni, and held up an orange and yellow fruit.

Jeni thought for a moment. "This one would guess they are limes but different colors?"

"Close. They are all within the same family of sour-flavored fruits. This yellow one is a lemon, and this is an orange. Not the most original name but tastier to eat alone." She squeezed the fruits' juices into the cocktail.

"The lemon is used in many of our other drinks. The orange brings more sweetness." Adding premade cranberry juice with lime juice, she shook the contents before finishing with crushed ice.

Pouring the mixture into a shallow glass, she garnished the edge with a wedge of lime and served it. "Here you are! A refreshingly tangy, sweet drink with a delightful pink color."

Jeni brought the drink to her lips. Her face scrunched at the un-used to acidity. "It has exceeded this one's estimation and this one is pleased. Thank you."

Truulté placed her hand over her bladder. "Plenty left if you want more."

Azalea poked Suvi. "Are you going to try one?"

"I'm not, er, that adventurous. I think I'll just order milk if that's ok." Looking at Mavis.

"Of course it is." Mavie assured.

"Ask Hallie for her milk," encouraged Azalea.

Suvi eyed Hallie's perky chest. "You certainly enjoyed it at the bakery. I suppose I should give it a try?"

Hallie knelt down, gingerly squeezed her milk into a glass, and served it. "I hope you enjoy."

"Well?" queried Azalea.

"Creamy and warm."

Hallie fidgeted. "I'm glad you like it."

"And which drink would you like, Azalea?" the bunny girl asked, raising her apron.

The thirsty fairy took a moment to admire the well defined and neatly closed, pink bunny puss for the second time that day. She made a mental note to sketch it in her notebook and wished it was on the menu.

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

Pee Daiquiri

grade 1

lemon/lime soda

lemon juice

pinch of sugar

Ice cubes

"Pee"na Colada

grade 1

coconut juice

pineapple juice

pineapple wedges

crushed ice

Urineade

grade 1

lemonade

ice

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

"This is a kink i've never dabbled in and and I don't know what most of these ingredients are, but let's give the 'pee'na colada a try."

"Good choice. It's my personal favorite. It especially tastes good in summer. Unfortunately, I don't have a special pouring method. I'm not good at controlling it."

"No need to feel bad. I'm not either."

"Then, if you'll allow me," Hallie faced away and squatted in front of the expectant fae. Running her hands down her sides, they met between her legs where she spread herself. "Ca, can you see?"

"Every part! Your cunt's so cute.

Hallie's puff-ball tail twitched as she filled the mixer. Azalea unconsciously licked her lips as she watched the clear and water-like stream.

"I'm curious, Hallie. You seem so shy, what made you take up this job?"

"I, I like to be helpful, even if it is embarrassing."

The flow abated with a few final drops. Wiping her hands, she turned around and took two of the strangest fruits Azalea had ever seen. "What are those? Are they edible?"

"Of course they are. This one's a coconut. It's a pain to open, but the milky sap inside is worth it." She took an awl, placed it against the eye hole at one end and tapped the other end with a mallet. Then she poured the contents into the mix.

"Can you do what Eeva did at the end?"

Hallie blushed hard. "I, I, no one has ever asked me before. I, I'm not wet enough, so I don't think, "

"Sure she can," said Eeva, volunteering Hallie. "The customer gets what the customer wants if it's reasonable. Come on, lass, you can do it. Just like all those nights we cuddle together." The taller wolf girl embraced her friend from behind and stroked the fluff around her neck as her other hand wound down between her legs.

"Super easy for her. Eeva's fingers worked to coax the slippery sweetness from the panting bunny girl. Just have to stir up her little bunny pot. See what I did there? No. Ok, bad puns aside, want to hear another little secret about Hallie? Careful when putting your head between her thighs. When she climaxes, it's like a vice. Nearly took my head off."

Hallie flushed a deeper shade of red. Between having her embarrassing idiosyncrasies exposed and Hallie's skilled digits burrowing through her crotch, she leaned into Eeva's body and resigned herself to the pleasure.

With the squelching sounds getting louder, Eeva removed her hand. "That should be enough." She pulled her hand away from Hallie, feeling her thighs clenching around her hand, reluctant at the absence. "I'll finish you off later tonight if you want." She whispered.

She held up the viscid lubricant clinging between her fingers, tracing it around the rim of the glass. "Here you are Azalea. Sorry, we don't have a smaller glass. You are our first fairy customer ever."

"I am? I'm honored, and it's alright. I can tilt it." She brought her head down, inhaling Hallie's scent as she took a sip. Another drink followed, and then another. Her wings fluttered as she swallowed the syrupy fruit drink. "This is delicious! You should try it, life-mate! Reina!"

Devin took her glass and tried it before handing it to Reina. "It definitely seems like your type of drink."

-------

The rest of the meal passed with several more drinks complimented by decoratively arranged plates of hors d'oeuvres and finger foods.

Sufficiently full, Devin leaned back in his chair. "Thank you for dinner, Mavis."

"Yes, thank you," came several other voices.

"And for the girls making tonight lots of fun," Azalea added.

"You are most welcome. It was our pleasure," answered Eeva. "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to buzz us." The barmaids gathered the empty dishes and left the room.

"Now, let's hear what commission my older sister went to so much work to set up."

Suvi stood up. "I'm going to take this opportunity to leave early. This doesn't concern me, and there is someone I need to check on to make sure they are ok. Before I go, Miss Ebonplume, are you perchance hiring any more girls?"

"Are you wanting to work here?"

"I need a more stable job."

"I'm sure Sable can find something for you to do, although we have no rooms available."

"I don't mind commuting."

"Come on in the day after tomorrow, and Sable will set you up."

"Thank you, I'll be here! And thank you for the, interesting evening!" With a wave of her tail, she left.

Mavis began to preen her feathers pretending not to see Devin awaiting her reply, "Instead of telling you what this job entails, it'll be more fun to let you experience what I need you to find." Mavis rang her private bell, summoning Sable with a singular drink on a tray. She placed it in front of Devin and took her position behind Mavis.

A profoundly floral scent emanated from a golden liquid.

"It's not one of the girls' drinks; in case you're wondering."

Devin held the warm mug to his lips and took a sip. He was instantly surprised by the explosion of sweet, mellow flavor.

"Can you name the ingredient?"

"Honey?"

"Yes! But not just any honey; bee girl honey."

"Impossible. No one's seen a bee-girl in the north for generations."

"Precisely. Because of its scarcity and cost, we could only offer it to customers at a very high price. A little goes a long way, but you are drinking the last of it. I've had several individuals attest to its authenticity, and they are offering a significant amount of vol to acquire more."

"You know I mainly transport goods already available. I have no experience with searching out new markets. If you're asking me, then I'm guessing you have an idea where to get more."

"Yes, but the only lead we have is that it was bought from another merchant, who bought it from a different merchant, outside the country."

Devin passed it for the girls to try. "I've never been outside our borders before. I've always wanted to visit the southern kingdom."

"Unfortunately our contact is not there."

He sat up. "I hope you're not suggesting I sneak across the border to the middle kingdom.

"You wouldn't be sneaking."

"his mind sifting through all the information he knew about their neighbor. "Method aside, you want me to find a nearly impossible commodity in a country that is not, to mockingly put it, on amicable terms with ours?"

"Relations are a bit icy, yes."

"And for good reason. Raiding your neighbor's population doesn't help make friends. Frankly, I'm a little disturbed you would even consider this given their treatment of demi-humans."

"Yes, I am fully aware their society runs on conscripted labor."

"Slave labor you mean. What about Reina and Azalea's safety?"

"No one would bother them. With the right paperwork anyone would just think they were your slaves."

"I refuse to even pretend they are my slaves."

"I think you should take the offer, herd-mate."

"Reina, you should know as much as I do, maybe even more, considering your first hand experience. Even after the trauma you suffered, you still want to go?

She gave an ernest look. "I will ultimately abide by your wishes, but yes, I do."

Devin frowned. He ventured a guess what Reina's motivation was. She was probably hoping she might run into her sister. He'd ask her later to make certain.

"And how do you feel about all this, Azalea?"

"She kissed the back of his hand. "I'm already a slave to your love life-mate. I'll go where you go. I trust your judgment."

"I don't think you understand what we'd be getting ourselves into."

"Reina wants to go and that's good enough for me."

Devin looked down and ticked off different ideas on his fingers as he thought of them. Personal reasons aside, there are numerous logistical concerns. We'd need to convert all the money we'd use. Do we even know the exchange rate of the Zingar? Not to mention enough provisions for a five week trip, one way, and assemble spare parts in case the wagon breaks down. Will we even make it through the mountains before the snow gets too deep? I was planning to convert my wagon into a sleigh for snow travel but I'm skeptical it'd survive such a brutal trip over the pass?"

"I wouldn't be sending you three alone." Said Mavis, interrupting his calculations.

"You'd be going with an experienced group of individuals who've made the journey before. They'll assemble the bulk of provisions you'll need. They also have a friend halfway between here and the capital you'll be stopping at. We'll dispatch someone to inquire as to the conditions. And your guild membership should offer you some immunity. There's a branch office in the capital, isn't there? You'll just need to acquire visas and the proper documentation. We are not at war and technically, you are not doing anything illegal. It's not a lawless country. You're just going to inquire of information, discreetly."

"Our milk money can go to help buy or build a new wagon life-mate. I'm sure we can find someone who'd pay a lot for a rare and delicious delicacy as these two lovelies will be producing." She pushed her breasts together.

All eyes were on him as he processed all the information. Even Sable was peeking out from the door to the downstairs kitchen curious what'd he decide.

"I won't believe you're doing it just for the money or merely fulfilling your patrons desire for a rare ingredient, Mavis. Are there other reasons?

Mavis tensed, hoping he wouldn't guide the conversation back to her.

"Aside from some personal reasons. I'd hoped if you found the producer, you could buy her freedom. Or if she's hiding out, entice her to come back with you."

"I'll make a note of it. And what are your personal reasons?"

"They aren't important. Just trivial feelings."

He folded his arms.

"Devin wasn't going to agree to anything till he knew every single detail. She locked eyes with Reina, hoping she would pick up on her hesitation to speak plainly."

Reina, guessing she wanted some privacy alone with Devin, abruptly stood up. "We've drunk a lot tonight. If you would excuse us, Jeni, Azalea, and I need to visit the outhouse. We'll be right back."

"But I don't need to pee."

"Yes, you do." Reina plucked Azalea from the table and took Jeni's wing.

Jeni, quicker on the uptake but slow on the reason, stumbled to her feet., "Is this the bonding ritual girls engage in when visiting the lavatory?"

"I'll tell you later," she whispered as they left Devin and Mavis alone.

Devin watched them exit. He didn't need his merchant sense to pick up on what just happened. Whatever reasons Mavis was hiding was obviously for his ears only.

"Alright, just us dear sister. Let's hear it. Based on the expression you let slip in your office, I'm guessing it's something you didn't want me to know about in the first place."

"No. I told you it's just silly feelings that shouldn't interfere with business."

"So it's about me? Not to sound self-centered but a lot of stronger feelings you have are usually about me."

Mavis stopped preening. The soft murmur of voices and muffle of clinking glasses became audible as Mavis held the silence.

I'm just scared you won't come back."

"That's it? That's your big reason."

"Pretty much."

"I was torn between offering you a lucrative adventure and feeling responsible for you."

"You know I'm an adult right?" Devin relaxed. "For crying out loud Mavis. Why must you be so melodramatic? Why didn't you just say that. You had me concerned it was some big thing."

"I don't like anyone, especially you seeing me unsure of myself and vulnerable."

"I don't know how you got it in your head but i would never think less of you."

When you first moved in with us, I told myself I needed to be the big dependable older sister who you'd look up to and help you take flight."

"So the real reason you check in with me all the time flying your routes, ?"

"To make sure you're safe and checking if you need anything."I'm sorry I'm such a clingy, flirty big sister."

"Why don't you find some male harpy."

"Don't you even dare suggest such a thing. You're all I need." She fluttered her eyes at him and laughed.

Devin wasn't sure if she was teasing him again or not. Either way, she was providing him with a chance at breaking well out of his norm.

"If I'm successful, I'll have quite the tale to tell when I return."

"Does that mean you'll say yes?!"

"A tentative yes. There is still the issue about a new wagon.

"We're back!" announced Azalea. "Are we interrupting?"

"No, I only needed to clear up a few misconceptions. Where's Jeni?" replied Mavis.

Reina placed two drinks in front of Devin. "She's downstairs filling out a membership form."

"What's this? Two drinks we haven't tried yet?" Devin inquired while reaching for one of the glasses.

"Yes! Compliments from us, life-mate!"

"You and Reina, ?"

"Uh-huh!"

One was light, almost like water, with a wedge of lemon on the rim. The other was darker in color.

Azlea had her hands together in barely suppressed, excited expectation.

"Tart with a familiar sugariness. You made this, didn't you?" Devin asked Azalea after taking a sip.

"I did. Do you like it? I actually did have to pee shortly after we left. Eeva suggested I try making the urineade as a surprise."

"So this must be Reina's then."

"Dark 'n' Uriney. I know you declined my first offer, maybe with some added ingredients you'll be more inclined to try it." Reina offered. "It's made from ginger beer and myself."

"That aspect of your culture is important to you isn't it?"

"It makes me happy to do all I can to share myself with you, in every way."

"I thank you for thinking of me," he praised. He sipped to bitter draught. "It's flavorful. I still don't know if I could handle it raw."

"I understand. Reina returned to her seat. "Have you finished making plans for our trip?"

Azalea landed on the table and sipped Reina's drink. "Yes, are we going life-mate? To satisfy our craving for adventure and profit?"

"Profit is only valuable if you're free and able to use it, and you, Reina; you hope to find your sister, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Mavis, this group we are going with, how many times have they, "

"Spy? Sneak? Clandestinely infiltrate? This will be their fourth. They are made up of a mix of humans and demi-humans. I can't disclose which of their group is going till the day they leave."

"So I guess we are all in agreement?" Devin questioned his ladies.

"I would have tried to persuade you if you had said no, herd-mate."

"Well, regardless, before any of that, we have to make a run to Merport to fulfill that order for Jeni. We should be ready in a week or two."

Mavis stood up and responded to Devin, "That works! They need time to prepare, as do you, I'm sure. Since you are doing this in winter, it will be harder to get there, but since you have Reina, it should be doable. When you return from Merport, I'd like for you to come back and meet them."

"I'll send a notice when we do."

Mavis embraced both girls and Devin. "Thank you for doing this. Let's just hope this venture proves successful."

Mavis led them down the stairs and toward the front entrance. At the doors, Jeni placed her stamp on a document and handed it to Sable.

"This one has found the older sister Mavis' establishment's services to be conducive to relaxation and useful in social improvement and wishes to frequent this place."

He lightly ruffled the feathers on her head. "I will be comforted to see you getting out of your lab more frequently."

She happily pushed her head into his hand.

Mavis held the door open. "We'll see you in two weeks then!"

"I'll bring the coach around," offered Sable.

Devin shook his foot, which had fallen asleep while they were seated. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'm feeling like a walk."

Jeni hopped down the stairs and lost her balance, her wings flailing wildly. Reina grabbed one of her wings and guided her down the remaining stairs. "You can ride on my back if you want, Jeni."

"Physical exertion is not this one's forte, but if our progress is slow enough, this one should be able to keep up," Jeni replied, panting from the shock of her near fall.

Azalea landed on Reina's back and waved goodbye to Mavis and Sable standing at the door. "Thank you for the fun night!"

"I'm going to sleep the moment we get home," declared Azalea, collapsing on her friend's back. "So tired and full."

"Same. A lot happened today. Let's hurry. It's freezing out here."

Scholarly Mori for Literotica.

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brisbanehipnkneeau · 2 years

Text

How to Recover From Knee Replacement

There are a number of surgical options for custom knee replacement Some of these procedures use the patient's own cartilage, which can be grown in a test tube. This technique is typically used for people with limited compartment arthritis. In cases where other nonoperative treatments have failed, a knee replacement may be recommended. However, there are also risks associated with this procedure.

Infection after knee replacement is an uncommon but serious complication. Patients should monitor their symptoms carefully. Fever, chills, swelling, and increased pain in the knee are all signs of infection. Patients should contact their doctor immediately if they develop these symptoms. Patients may experience stiffness in the knee after the procedure, even after physical therapy has been started. After the procedure, you will need to take small steps and avoid bending excessively to avoid injuring your new joint.

After knee replacement, you may need to take some pain medication to help you recover. Most patients are given oral pain medications such as Tylenol #3 or Percocet Vicoden. In addition to providing pain relief, these medications can also help you with the physical therapy and home exercises you're supposed to do after surgery. To get the best possible result, aggressive rehabilitation is required following knee replacement surgery. To ensure a successful recovery, patients should be highly motivated and dedicated to the rehabilitation process.

A knee replacement procedure involves cutting the bone and cartilage on the tibia and femur to create a new surface for the joint. This new surface mimics the shape and structure of the original femoral condyles. Some procedures also include replacing the underside of the kneecap with a polyethylene implant.

Patients will usually be required to rest after knee replacement surgery, and some patients can return to normal activities the next day. Physical therapy can help speed up the healing process and prevent dislocation of the new joint. A physiotherapist will guide you through this process, and you will be able to begin physical therapy as soon as possible after surgery.

In most cases, knee replacement surgery takes between 45 minutes and two hours. Depending on the complexity of the procedure, you will need to stay in the hospital for one to four days. The recovery process can take anywhere from three to six weeks, depending on your needs. During this time, you'll need help with household chores and exercise prescribed by your physical therapist. Once your recovery period has completed, you'll be ready to go home.

There are a number of complications associated with knee replacement surgery, but most patients can avoid them by following proper care afterward. One of the most common complications is blood clots in the leg veins. These can be life-threatening if they travel to the lungs. Your orthopaedic surgeon will discuss this risk with you during the consultation and outline a treatment plan for you to follow. This may include periodic elevation of your legs, lower leg exercises, and medication to thin blood.

A patient may return to work several weeks after knee replacement surgery. This is typically six to eight weeks for people with desk jobs, while it may take between 10 and 12 weeks for someone with a manual job. However, if you are doing any heavy work, your surgeon may recommend you consider a less-heavy job. As a precaution, heavy lifting may damage the knee replacement.

As with any surgery, knee replacement surgery should only be performed if the pain in your knee prevents you from doing everyday activities. Your doctor will carefully evaluate your condition and your medical history before recommending a knee replacement procedure. He or she will also ask about any medications you are taking, as some medicines must be stopped before surgery.

Another risk associated with knee replacement surgery is wound infection. About 1 in 50 patients will develop an infection after surgery. If the infection is too severe, the surgeon may have to remove the new knee. In severe cases, the doctor may even have to fuse your bones, which will require amputation of your leg above the knee.

Patients who choose to undergo knee replacement surgery are generally satisfied with the results and feel that their knee functions better than before the operation. Exercise after the procedure will improve the strength and mobility of your knee. You can resume hiking, walking, golfing, cycling, and other light activities, but you should avoid high-impact activities until your doctor advises otherwise.

#knee replacement

0 notes

outofstatemovingwashington · 2 years

Text

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1 note · View note

yeahimaloser · 3 years

Note

Hi lovely! I adore your writing style and noticed you were taking requests. This is my first request ever so if it comes off a little awkward please forgive me! 👉👈

I was hoping for a scenario where Hawks has been wondering why y/n has been skipping out on get-togethers with him for the past week or two. He gets curious enough one day that he just-so-happens to patrol the area where you run off to after you reject another date with him.

He finds out that you have been going to an outdoor avian clinic and taking classes on how to pamper/massage or preen bird wings in order to surprise Hawks for your anniversary coming up.

But not like totally before Hawks confronts you and blurting out “Have you been cheating on me with a parrot?” 😂

Thank you! I hope this all makes sense. Hugs and kisses!

Hello there!! You are so sweet! and you didn’t come off awkward at all! <3

I am so sorry I didn’t actually mean for this to become an angst fic in the beginning ;-;

but it is fluffy don’t worry!

warnings: avian Keigo (Keigo having bird like tendencies)

Also I schedule this to be a bit later than I normally post, I’ll most likely be asleep when this goes up so I just wanted to say to everyone thank you for reading!!

word count: 3.3k

------

He tapped his foot against the floor of the restaurant, his patience deteriorating every second as he stared at the door.

As the fastest hero, Keigo never really had any patients for just about anything. One thing he hated more than anything was people being late, he moved fast, he wanted people to move fast with him.

All he wanted to do was go on a nice date night, have some dinner, and go home and watch a movie or something. He just wanted to spend time with you.

You normally never skipped out on dates, so why now?

He had noticed your absence in the last few weeks, more and more you would skip out on him.

The anxiety bubbling in his heart was starting to spill over, seeping into his attitude in daily life. In his head, he wondered if maybe you were trying to signal to him that you weren’t interested in dating anymore, that maybe you were just silently drifting from him. But he loved the 11 months he got to spend with you, he’d never experienced anything like it. It was fresh, new, loving, he didn’t want it to end. Those thoughts had made him feel miserable for the last week or so, but he was still confused by you. Although you skipped out on dates and such, you still acted so lovingly towards him. You would still come home and snuggle up to him, you would still run your fingers through his hair at night, you would still talk mindlessly about your day, as though nothing was remotely bothering you.

So, maybe you really were busy, perhaps he was just looking too much into the issue.

But still, getting stood up for the 4th time in a row would make anyone a bit upset.

He left the restaurant, paying for the drink he had ordered, and went on his way home.

Maybe it was a side effect of his quirk, but when he had these sorts of thoughts his wings would get all twitchy. He had done the research and found that when birds were in a high-stress situation they plucked at their feathers. The article also said that when a person that said a bird was attached to someone that abandons them, they get even more stressed and irritated. Which he supposed made sense. He would never admit it to very many people, (and if the press got a hold of it he would honestly shoot himself) but he had some bird tendencies.

Not big ones, just small ones.

He would bob his head in time with music sometimes, his pupils would dilate and contract when he was concentrating on something, he would mindlessly coo and cluck randomly as well.

Luckily, the commission taught him to control his bird-like tendencies, they told him that some of his bird traits were “off-putting”. But he really wasn’t sure what they were talking about, animal quirks weren’t uncommon, but he didn’t complain, he didn’t mind the help.

But since he’s been dating you, he found himself getting more and more of these tendencies.

A few times, he would find random shiny objects and give them to you, he acted all excited about it too, saying, “I saw it and thought that you could keep it! It’s super pretty so, I don’t know, I thought you’d think it was cool.” After he said that, you just took the objects and told him he was so adorable.

Another time, when you two were just out and about, he had seen you talk to someone with a similar bird quirk to his. He didn’t even know what came over him, but he squawked at the man, effectively freaking him and you out.

He apologized profusely after that.

There was one bird-like quality he didn’t mind all that much, and that was the preening of his feathers. It was honestly so relaxing, the dirt and dust from flying seeped into his feathers, so he always found himself soaking his wings in water and then rubbing them with a special kind of oil.

There were some days, however, were all he could do (or all he had time to do) was take a warm towel and gently rub off his feathers.

And lately, he had found himself going overboard with his preening, pulling more aggressively at his feathers, sometimes even hurting himself. He suspected that it was due to the stress of worrying about what was wrong with you (or him).

He hated all of it, loathed it even. Worse was how hard it was for him to broach the subject with you, whenever he got close he always wussed out. In his mind, even though it bothered him, he didn’t want to lose you. He was so scared that if he brought it up he would hear something he dreaded, and you two would fall apart.

He loved you so much, he wanted you to stay with him. Another bird trait he learned, some birds mated for life, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel that way about you. He just...he didn’t want to lose you.

There was one possibility that was the worst, and yet the most likely. You had been cheating on him.

He really didn’t want to admit it, but it all sort of added up.

You skipped out on dates so you could go out with this other person. When you would become affectionate with him could be a sign of guilt, he read about that online. And the way you wouldn’t see his texts or missed calls when he knew you were on a lunch break, maybe you were seeing someone else.

Was he a bad boyfriend? He thought that he had become better at this whole relationship stuff, maybe not perfect, but he was getting there. He knew he was hard to deal with, he wished he could be better for you, he really did. He knew he was busy a lot, tired from work, he knew he wasn't the most affectionate guy, but he wanted you, he wanted you so much it hurt. Keigo thought that you loved him because he really loved you.

The thought of having to let you go crushed his heart crushed his spirit too. He really did care for you, he knew that you were the one for him, so the thought of you not returning that feeling hurt him.

He flew through the night sky, looking down at the lights of the city. Normally, a sight like this would have made him smile, made him feel like he was on top of the world.

But his wings just felt uncomfortable, the wind blowing through them just increased the feeling.

He just felt… done. Like the whole world felt heavy to him. Maybe he really was overthinking everything, but he couldn’t help it, he was made to be observant.

He knew he had a strange habit of over-complicating things, but it was just his nature he supposed. A trained government agent always has to look into the fine details, at least, that's what he was taught. So, with your absence, he found himself becoming more and more paranoid.

He brought it up to his side-kicks and hero friends, and they all said the same thing; he was just being paranoid. They told him that, “sometimes in relationships, things get a little rough, it happens.” But Keigo couldn’t help but hate the whole ordeal.

He sighed, flying faster to his home.

One time, he had tried to follow you on your lunch break. He supposed it was pretty stalkerish, but he was getting desperate. All he needed was reassurance, just to know if you were actually busy or if that had been a bullshit excuse. He told himself it wasn’t a huge deal, he was just making sure you were doing ok.

...ok maybe it was a bit of a breach of privacy.

He had perched himself on top of a building near your workplace. Keigo had made sure that you wouldn’t be able to see him as he followed you, keeping out of sight as best he could.

His initial thought was you would go to a coffee shop, maybe some sort of expensive restaurant if you were meeting someone.

Yet, to his surprise, he saw you scarf down a sandwich as you entered an animal clinch.

Were you cheating on him with an animal clinch employee?

He wanted to confront you then and there, but from where he was, he didn’t have any reason to.

It looked innocent enough, you were just going to an animal clinch.

He immediately felt guilty. There was no reason for him not to trust you, you had done nothing wrong in this situation. Maybe you really were working overtime and he was just overthinking everything.

He shook his head, sighing, he unfolded his wings and flew off the building he was perched on.

That was a week ago, it was after the third time you stood him up. And now, although he didn’t have any proof of you cheating, he still felt like he had a reason to confront you. He just felt sick of worrying and overthinking everything, and in all honesty, you weren’t helping the situation. Every time he asked you about it, you always came up with some sort of excuse.

He landed on his balcony with a loud thump, not caring all that much about the noise.

As he entered his home, he lifted the hem of his shirt off his head, throwing it on the floor unceremoniously. Walking over to the bathroom, he filled a special bowl full of water and made his way back over to the bed.

It was probably a bad idea to preen himself when he was so aggravated like this, but he wanted to do it, his wings felt so uncomfortable.

His right-wing raised a bit as he sat down, pulling the feathered stump closer to him.

But before he could even graze the feathers with a damp cloth he had, he heard the front door open and close.

Before he had even realized it, he was already zooming down the staircase of his luscious penthouse, knowing full well you were already inside of his home.

“Hi honey,” you slipped your shoes off, not looking at him yet. “How was your day- Oh,” he crossed his arms over his chest, he was sure his expression was one of utmost anger.

“Where were you,” his tone was irritated, his wings twitched behind him.

“I was working. Baby what's wrong,” he nearly rolled his eyes at your concerned tone.

“Don’t baby me, you stood me up,” he huffed, “again.”

He didn’t miss the sorry expression that flashed on your face, “Kei, I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve just been so busy lately. I know I haven’t been fair to you, but I’m not doing anything tomorrow! Look I’ll even make dinner for you, ok? Really, Kei, I’m ”

“Y/N,” here it came, “if your gonna break up with me, just do it already

Well, that certainly shocked you (and him if he was being honest). Your whole expression fell into one of confusion, your eyes looked up at him with genuine hurt.

“What? Keigo what are you talking about? You’re not making any sense, why would I want to break up with you?”

“I don’t know Y/N?! Why have you been avoiding me for so long!?”

You sighed, “Is that what this is all about? Well,” you pulled out some sort of form, reaching it out to him, “here, I wanted to surprise you on our anniversary, but I don’t want you to think that I’m doing something dishonest.”

He snatched the piece of paper out of your hand, maybe a bit too harshly. He looked at it and was immediately confused.

It was information on a class about… how to preen birds?

He gave you a confused look, to which you gave him a light smile, “I see how frustrating it is for you to preen them, so I wanted to help out. I saw that I could learn how and thought it would be a cute thing for us to do together.”

He stood in shock for a few moments, letting the guilt wash over him.

“I-I’m so sorry.”

You chuckled a bit, “Don’t be, it was wrong of me to leave you high and dry on dates, I just had to work overtime in order to get these classes in.”

Now, he felt twice as guilty.

This whole time he had thought you were drifting away from him, and worse, he thought you were cheating on him. He felt sick. His friends were right, he really was overthinking the whole situation. And worst of all, you were working overtime to do something so nice for him, and here he was, yelling at you.

“I-I’m so sorry, Y/N. Jesus,” he shook his head, “I’m an idiot. You were off doing something so thoughtful for me, and I was being a prick, yelling at you. I’m sorry honey. Is there something I can do to make it up to you?”

But you just chuckled, “Keigo, really, it’s ok. I should have at least done something to convince you, or rescheduled our dates. It’s ok honey, don’t feel bad.”

You moved in to give him a hug, which just happened to be the moment you realized his shirt was missing.

“Uh,” he saw your body straighten up, and your face makes a flustered expression, “why is your shirt…”

“Oh, well,” he scratched his feathers nervously, “it’s kinda funny, I was just about to preen my wings. So I have to take off my shirt in order to get the water to the back. Kind of a weird coincidence, huh.”

“Well,” you looked at him, eyes softening, “can I help?”

Keigo was sure his heart had frozen, after a moment or two, he answered, “S-sure.”

-----

You pulled a stool for him to sit on as you sat down on the bed.

Keigo wasn’t sure why, but he felt so anxious. To tell the truth, he never really had someone preen his wings before. He would always do it himself, it was an annoying effort sometimes, but the commission was very big on him looking good for the public eye.

His wings weren’t super sensitive, but the light touches of your fingers running through them felt like pure heaven to him. The sensation was like having someone giving a message, but… different. It felt nicer, more loving, more slow and nice.

The whole sensation made him shutter.

“Is this ok,” he didn’t miss the anxiety in your tone.

“Yeah,” he said, breathlessly. “Perfect, keep...keep doing that babe.”

The little pulls of his feathers relaxed him more and more, making him seep into the back of the stool he was sitting on.

When you had started to add water to the mix, he didn’t notice his cooing.

“Kei?”

“Hmm,” his mind was so far gone in the relaxation of your hands that he barely registered your voice.

“Are you cooing,” you had to suppress your smirk as his body went rigid, as well as his wings.

“I,” his face was almost as deep red as his wings, “s-sorry.”

You giggled, “Don’t apologize,” you pressed softly into the apex of some of his feathers, “if it feels good, it’s fine if you coo. I won't judge you.”

Softly, he let out a few coos, but he didn’t want to freak you out.

But soon, he realized he couldn’t keep them in, you were just doing so well.

You moved softly to grab his feather oil, “Uh, so how does this even work? Do I take a few drops and run them through each individual feather or something?”

You’ve seen him preen his wings before, but until recently you had just started to pay attention to how he exactly did them. You had noticed that the oil he used on his feathers gave a shine to the red plumage, but you had noticed he was a bit cautious with the serum.

“O-oh,” you didn’t miss the light stutter and the soft up-take of his voice, “Um, if you want you can just put a few drops in your hand and rake them through. You don’t have to do each one if you don’t want to.”

You thought for a moment, “Alright, I think I’ll just do each feather. I wanna get this right after all.”

And, honest to god, Keigo gulped.

You’ve never seen him this relaxed and yet so tense, you would have thought he was drugged. You would be lying if you didn’t enjoy it though, the way Keigo melted into you, it was weirdly adorable.

“Yeah,” he let out, “yeah ok.”

After that, it was like Keigo could barely talk.

For a moment, you considered something. When you and Keigo had started to date, you had noticed how he was a bit touch-starved. He craved affection, whether he was aware of this or not, you weren’t sure.

But it made sense, his childhood past, and plus, this was his first real relationship. You wondered if Keigo had ever been shown so decent, honest love before.

Perhaps his bird instincts also played a part in how affectionate he could be. You read once, that when male birds became attached to their mates they tended to get affectionate as well as loving. Plus, some birds preened their mates as a show of love, you wondered if what Keigo was doing was just his way of showing how happy he was with you preening him.

After you were done, Keigo’s head was light and tired. The whole experience for him felt magical, he wasn’t sure why though. He preened himself a bunch of times, why was this the first time he felt this way?

But Keigo’s head couldn’t really process the question at the moment.

“You wanna go to sleep,” you asked, bringing your hands lightly over his shoulders, kissing his forehead.

He let out a small, “Mhm,” as he stood up. You had to help him to his bed because of how wobbly he was.

After you carefully helped him into bed, you turned to go to the bathroom to wash your hands, but Keigo dragged you down.

“No,” he whined softly as you tried to get out of his grip, “cuddles.”

(You couldn’t lie, this had to be the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen him do)

He nuzzled into you, his body flushed against yours.

That’s when you heard it, the little chips. You didn’t say anything, scared that if you did he would stop. You played with his hair as he chirped into your neck, his wings shivered a bit.

You decided to ask him, “Hey, Kei.”

He hummed lightly.

“I’ve never seen you like this, does it have something to do with your bird instincts?”

Keigo thought for a moment, “Maybe,” his voice was light you noticed, “it could be. Kinda just something I experience because that’s what birds do with their...mates.”

You chuckled, running your hands through his wings again, “Maybe it’s because you're also, like, really touch starved.”

“Oh yeah, maybe. I mean,” he looked at you, like a lovesick puppy, “you are my first time in a real relationship.”

You laughed lightly, going back to lightly stroking his hair and feathers.

“Hey Y/N,” Keigo’s voice was tired, and yet, it was soft.

“Yeah honey,” you asked in an equally gooey voice.

He nuzzled in closer to you, giving you a soft, yet deep kiss, “I love you.”

#bnha hawks #hawks x reader #mha keigo takami #hawks x y/n #keigo takami #mha keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha fanfiction #keigo x reader #hawks imagine #hawks headcanons #hawks reader insert #keigo x y/n

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bingoluka · 3 years

Text

Need You

Summary: After a case gone wrong, and an injury left unattended, Loki realizes that even Gods need somebody.

Notes: Includes wound depiction and good ole' angst! Also a lil' Wowki but I'm a little bitch baby.

...

When he said it hurt like hell, it hurt like hell.

Each case tended to go wrong in its own unique and terrible way. Whether one of them leaves with a torn shirt and headache, or a deep gash and a broken spirit, one thing was certain; that Mobius and Loki looked out for each other.

Though, Loki would hardly admit he had grown quite fond of the man he called his partner.

Beyond that, he would hardly admit when he really, truly needed his help. He was independent, he knew this, and sometimes asking for the help or pity of another more than once seemed too much mental strain- for both him and whoever had the bad fortune of being alongside him. He hadn't realized the severity of the injury at the time, as a large piece of metal tore away at his abdomen while swimming from an impending tsunami. His magic had already begun to heal him, fixing the initial trauma while the freezing water numbed him.

He has assumed the blood in the water hadn't been his.

Now there he was, wandering aimlessly along the TVA corridors, wishing desperately he could lay his inhibitions to rest all the while sparing his friend the worry. Though, he knew it was unlikely.

The air felt cold against his skin, each step sending a fiery blast of pain across his stomach and up to his back. He grimaced. Pathetic, he thought to himself weakly. Who are you without your power?

"Loki? Loki!"

His voice sounded distant at first, so much he grew concerned he had never heard it at all. A sharp exhale left Loki's mouth as another pang sent shockwaves through his body.

"Oh no- oh no-!"

He stumbled, his legs crossing wildly over each other and he fell into the wall next to him. He began to sink to his knees, the pain becoming overpowering as he fought to stay present. How was it getting worse?

He realized then the wound no longer felt cold. It felt hot, burning as fresh blood spilled from the wound. Loki realized then how little healing had taken place.

"Loki? Hey, hey look at me."

Mobius's voice was soft, calming as it was fearful. Loki wanted to melt into the other, hide from the agony.

"I-I'm sorry," he gasped. "I thought it had healed- I thought- I thought it wasn't this bad-"

"Shh," he whispered, keeping a steady hand on Loki's back. "Loki, can you walk?"

Loki stopped for a moment, his eyes falling to the ground in shame. His breathing was already erratic, jumbling his thoughts and rationality to the point he wasn't sure of anything. He looked up at Mobius now, his eyes scanning his for a sign.

"Come on."

Loki hadn't realized how many people were there with them. Maybe it was adrenaline, or his partial loss of vision from the wound, either way, the voices began to filter in at that moment. Agents and hunters, some workers he had never seen all gathered around them. Mobius had taken one side, while a hunter had him on the other, leading him out of the hall when his body began to go limp. He fought against it, begging himself to stay upright just long enough to prove he was capable. But he wasn't, and they knew this. His knees buckled beneath him, sending both him and the other two staggering forward with an "oh-!"

He could feel them ease him to the ground, pain shooting through him again as he made contact with the floor- causing him to cry out.

"We need to address the wounds here," Mobius said, his voice sharp and heavy. "He's deteriorating, either we let him use magic or we heal him ourselves."

"We can't just let that happen, we have to be outside of the TVA," someone said. "We need to take him somewhere else."

As they spoke, others had taken to pressing against his wound to suppress the bleeding. At first, it was agony. But after a while, he felt a warmth come over his body, a peace he had never felt as the pain melted away. He knew it wasn't supposed to happen, Mobius frantically calling his name being a sure sign, but the relief was something he couldn't deny.

"Loki! Stay with us, come on-"

Before he slipped into sleep, the last thing he saw was Mobius over him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. God, he was tired. But he regretting falling asleep all the same.

...

"If I would've known he was hurt, I wouldn't have taken my eyes off him, what more is there to understand?"

Mobius looked at Renslayer for a moment. Defiance wasn't typically in his nature, though he'll admit his actions spoke otherwise. He was more a calm deviant, not driven by a harsh nature but rather a calm and collected one. She sighed, resting her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose.

"I know, I know. But we can't have events like that happen, Mobius. Half our team was distracted, imagine if the variant had struck then?"

"You know I respect you, Renslayer. I really do, I admire you and you know that. But this just seems wrong, he's still a person," Mobius said, frowning. "I know in the grander scheme of things we have a lot to worry about but I saw humanity out there. A collective force of good working toward an unspoken goal."

"Which is?"

"Making sure variant or not, we're taking care of each other."

...

Loki woke on the couch that night.

Wait, couch?

He had expected to still be on the floor. Though he knew Mobius would never, it wasn't out of the picture that another agent might let him stay on the ground. After all, they weren't too fond of him. He went to stretch, the sharp pains from his stomach stopping him in his tracks as he remembered why he was there.

The room was dark, dark enough that beyond his fixed point on the couch, Loki could hardly see a thing. A voice pierced the air, causing him to jump.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

As Loki realized who it was, he sank back into the couch.

"Fine," he mumbled. Mobius raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You didn't seem too fine back there when you were bleeding out in the halls of the TVA."

"Well, I was," Loki snapped, staring up at the ceiling. He realized how foolish he sounded, but at that point, he didn't care.

"Loki, what happened on that mission?" Mobius asked gently, ignoring the other's outburst. Loki sighed a bit, trying to shift his position.

"I didn't-" he cut himself off with a wince as he moved wrong, the pain burning at first, then turning into a dull ache. Mobius looked down at him worriedly.

"I didn't think it was that bad," he said hurriedly. "I was so cold from the water I didn't feel it. I just assumed the blood hadn't been mine."

It was grim. The idea of the blood in the water was so common for that moment, so anticipated that he had nearly bled out yet speculated it was from somebody else. It brought into focus the severity of even human apocalypses.

"But the blood," Mobius said, frowning. "I should have been able to see it on your shirt when we got back. I didn't see any."

"My magic had healed it for the most part," Loki said. "Just not enough. Once I returned it must've begun to reverse."

As Loki spoke, he noticed Mobius reaching for the hem of his shirt. He quickly blocked his hand with an offended "Hey." Mobius chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm just trying to see it, come on."

"You don't need to," Loki glared. But of course his efforts didn't deter Mobius, who kept his steady gaze.

"Loki," he said gently. "Come on, let me see."

Loki sighed, wordlessly lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal the array of wounds, accented by the much larger wound that ran across the bottom of his abdomen. He heard Mobius's breath catch.

"Geez..." He murmured, gently brushing a finger across the uninjured skin, which even then was sore.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked sadly. Loki cast his eyes to the side.

"An unspoken rule amongst warriors in Asgard was to each their own. It wasn't uncommon to receive wounds in battle, it was seen as noble to keep them to yourself."

"Well, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Mobius said with raised eyebrows. He added a hasty, "No offense."

"No, I agree. They were all morons," he said lightheartedly.

Mobius laughed now, bowing his head as he did so. Loki smiled a bit, still somewhat troubled by the pain but not enough to mention it.

"This is your apartment, then?" He said, trying to initiate conversation so Mobius wouldn't see as he began to sit up.

"Hey, not so fast," Mobius said, placing a hand on the small of Loki's back. "Your powers may be back, but you have a ways to go."

"I'm alright, really."

"I'm beginning to think that phrase holds less ethos each time I hear it."

Loki huffed, barely managing to sit all the way up. He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted. It was a small apartment, most of his items being placed in the living area. Books, dusty empty bottles, wooden furniture accented with water stains and loose change. The carpet was plush, he noticed, like something you would see from the nineties. It was all very cozy and welcoming.

"Sorry about the mess," he said, assuming that's what Loki had been looking at. "I didn't really have time to clean."

"Mess?" Loki frowned. "Mobius, you bring me into your home and you really assume I'm going to judge the state of it?"

"Well, to be fair, I don't get a lot of visitors," he smiled. "Now you need some rest, alright?"

If Loki had just an ounce more strength, he would've shot back some snarky response. This time, however, he found himself too tired to think of one, so instead, he flashed a quick smile.

"I'll be here if you need me."

If you need me.

Loki pondered on the words for a while. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the weariness finally catching up with him. Before he never would have admitted he need someone, much less someone with no relation to him. But in that darkened room he gathered he had a change of heart. As he felt himself slowly fading into the warm embrace of sleep, he felt a hand run across his head, gently brushing his unkempt hair back in a stroking motion. He wanted to open his eyes, to see Mobius, but he stayed still just long enough to hear the words,

"Glad you're alright, Lokes."

Before contently falling asleep.

#self indulgent fic #loki #loki series #loki show #angst #loki angst #wowki #lokius #wowki fluff #wowki angst #i wrote this on my phone #in my notes app #hurt comfort #whump

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mrwinterr · 3 years

Text

All For You

Pairing: David Budd x Female Reader

Summary: After the incident on the train that night, David returns to the apartment replaying different scenarios in his head had things gone wrong; specifically, one with you involved.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual and unprotected sex, snuggle-fuck, vaginal penetration and fingering, breath play, some roughness and dirty talk). Infidelity. Language. Sad vibes.

Disclaimer: Bodyguard (2018) TV series spoilers. This may effectively spoil episode one if you haven’t watched the show. This is set towards the beginning of the episode, but before the rest of the series plays out.

Title Inspiration: “All For You” by Night Riots

A/N: 1) The song mentioned above is beautiful. Please give it a listen. It sets the mood for this piece. 2) Here’s to our fragile babe.

It was late when David made it back to the apartment. The room was dark, all the lights were shut off, but there’s a considerable amount that shone out from the window of the city, illuminating his path around, and there was a faint smell of food that filled his nostrils from the half empty box of cold pizza laid out on the coffee table in front of the television.

The small details sent a warm feeling throughout his body. Countless memories scrolled in his head as he looked over at the empty couch, thinking back to all the times he’d watch you eat food there while your favorite show that season was on, him joining you to cheer on your hometown sports team, the both of you falling asleep during a movie. He swore y’all dined more at that coffee table than the table in the kitchen.

He lifted the lid of the box and thought if he was really hungry or not. It had his favorite toppings on it, but no matter how appealing the dish was, tonight’s events were too fresh and powerful to brush aside.

He had successfully foiled a terrorist attack on the train taking him and his kids back home. David had been through a lot during his term in Afghanistan, but he’d never been more scared in his life than when he thought about all the things he’d be robbed of had Nadia pushed the button on the trigger of the bomb strapped around her.

Ella and Charlie always came first in his life. His children meant the entire world to him. As much as David loved the time he had with them even if it was the dreading moments of having to send them back to their mother, he cherished every single second. The weekend the three of them spent at his mother’s was what he needed to help him clear his head. It’s insane to think just how quickly life can turn around.

After properly storing the food into the refrigerator, he shrugs his jacket off and sets his footwear against the wall and out of the way before heading towards his room except he never goes inside. He looks over to the room across and he can see you tucked and in bed from the slit of your opened door.

So many thoughts run through David’s mind, he feels like he could explode at any minute. The world was a mess enough as it is. The war didn’t do or leave him any favors. His unpredictable moods left him and his wife Vicky estranged. He couldn’t be there all the time for Ella and Charlie as they had to bounce back and forth between each parent. The only light in all of this was knocked out in the next room.

Aside from his comrades, not a lot of people stuck around long enough to tolerate the new version of himself that returned from the war. The relationship between David and you was something that never reached its potential. It was one of those never in the right moment sort of things. You met during your days at University. You had loved another before him and when studying abroad proved a long-distance relationship wasn’t possible, by the time you came back to graduate David was in love with someone else.

Soon enough, he was married with two children. You held no distaste for Vicky at all. You felt for her when she divulged to you about David’s episodes. The pair of you still communicated and you often found yourself watching over Ella and Charlie while she or David were busy with work.

When David’s PTSD started to get really serious and he profusely refused to get help, Vicky no longer felt safe with him in the house, she had no choice but to kick him out. You knew she was only doing it for the sake of Ella and Charlie, but secretly you already knew she was moving on.

You welcomed David into your apartment and let him stay for as long as he needed granted you had a spare room he could occupy. There was no sense in denying you always loved him and would support whatever his heart desired whether that meant helping him repair his relationship with Vicky or not.

It doesn’t go without saying that there have been casual slip-ups. You had both kissed before, felt one another, and even satisfied the other, but all that still didn’t define the relationship. He was still legally married to Vicky. The topic of their relationship was almost forbidden. You knew David held a high amount of respect for you and you couldn’t blame him for not knowing where his heart stood.

It hurt to see how much torment he got left with from trying to defend his country and you’d experienced first-hand those very episodes Vicky talked about and more. Time after time, there’d be arguments enough to deduce you to tears from his booming voice and ill words when the proposition of him seeking professional help arose. Then other times he’d break down right in front of you.

Grateful he hadn’t exhibited any violent behavior yet, as much care as you could offer to him, you knew that you still had to watch out for yourself too. Again, you’d always love David, whatever version of him. The same one you fell in love with was still in there. Your heart had ached for David’s well-being. If you could heal him with just your touch, you’d do it. Everything you did was all for David.

The room that offered him a preview of you compelled him enough to slip through the crack. It wasn’t uncommon for either of you to slide into the other's bed at this point. He removes his shirt and jeans, setting them on a nearby chair, and gently sits down at the end of your bed.

Given the events of the past 24 hours, the last thing he wanted was to be alone. If things had gone wrong, you would be alone.

The only sounds that could be heard were of the bustling city outside and if he paid close enough attention, which he did, your soft sighs of slumber were also audible. He leaned his elbows on top of his knees and stared straight into his reflection in the mirror of your vanity that was set in front of him.

David couldn’t help but think of all the possible outcomes that might’ve happened had he not been able to stop the attack.

First, he thought about Ella and Charlie and their safety foremost. At only ten and eight years old, they had so much to live for. If they were taken with him and the other passengers, he hated to imagine how Vicky would feel.

Vicky was another thought and how broken beyond repair they were at. He had felt so stupid thinking he could try and make a move on her hours ago. She was already adjusting to her new life without him. He also felt guilty and ashamed because he felt as if by that advance he was betraying you.

You were a thought in of itself. The second his life was in danger and he came face-to-face with the suicide bomber, he knew he was going to leave this world without ever setting things straight between you two. All the things he shared with Vicky, their wedding, their honeymoon, the birth of their children - all of those life moments he once dreamed of sharing with you, without him, you’d end up sharing with someone else.

There’s nothing stopping you from doing that right now with him alive actually. He could lose you regardless of the outcome on the train, but when life flashes in front of your eyes and the main source of your survival and happiness are at the forefront of your attention, you want nothing more than to seize opportunities at the second chance you’re given. It was a wakeup call.

David diverts his eyes from himself and over to your sleeping figure. He studied the peaceful aura you radiated, with the rise and fall of your body and soft breathing, you were quiet in a world so full of noise. While he held so much admiration for you, he also envied you. You had your life under control, at least enough to let you rest at night. However, David couldn’t hold that against you because you tried tirelessly to help him.

By some miracle, he was able to coax Nadia into trusting him and surrender. He lived to see another day and perhaps this was the world telling him this was his chance with you. Aside from his doomed relationship with Vicky, there was really nothing in the way of you two being together this time. He survived a war and tonight...and you were right there. Could he really live a life without him proclaiming his love for you? And that was it for David. He’d had enough.

He moves over to the space behind you, your back facing him. He carefully draws the blanket draped over your body up so he could get under them with you. The covers settle in their new spot on the lower halves of your bodies, just barely above the hips, and David starts to run his hand on the smooth skin of your exposed arm.

The contact stirs you awake, but your eyelids weigh too heavy to open them in your tired state. You’d fought for as long as your body could allow you to, waiting for David, before succumbing to sleep. You revel in his tender touch, the warmth of his body transferring onto yours, and not realizing your body starts to rub up against his until you feel the puffs of his hot breath behind your ear along with a string of small incoherent noises.

By now, the front of his body is flushed and parallel behind yours, his legs tangled with your legs. The hand that was previously caressing your arm had snaked its way around your midsection resting on your abdomen, cheekingly on the patch of skin that wasn’t covered by the ridden-up camisole. You reach down and grab that hand to bring it up and place it at your breastbone, allowing him to feel the beat of your heart, with your fingers interlocked. Never had either one of you felt perfectly fit with another than with each other.

Featherweight kisses are stamped all around the back and crook of your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine, creating a domino effect that rippled through your body as your legs, still weaved in his, start to tousle with one another. The top of his thighs occasionally brushing the underside of your panties increasing the friction and your grip on his hand grows tighter. When his tongue licks along the shell of your ear, you let out a breathy response from being caught off guard by his actions.

You’re not in control of your body anymore as your hips buck backwards and grind rough up against his groin on their own. You loved to hear him, whether it be his ragged breathing or the sultry moans or the filthy words that spewed out of his luscious lips - whatever because it was you that caused it.

The hand that was held hostage by yours against your sternum, trapped between each breast, broke free. Now in control, it snuck underneath the thin clothing material, and back to its previous position in front of your breasts before grabbing a handful of flesh. Your shirt twisted and stretched from the movements, and all your hand could do was go along for the ride as he kneaded your breasts.

When he had his fill, his hand wandered all over your body, abandoning yours, as it ran along your ribs, your curves, your hips and then slithered into the front of your panties. The palm of his hand ignites a tingle in your lower region until his fingers glide along the slit of your pussy, and in an up-and-down motion gathering some of your arousal. Once his digits are wet enough, he settles them on your clit and begins rubbing small, delicate circles. Your breathing increases and your free hand reaches out to grab a hold of the bed sheets due to the pressure he applied every now and then.

He switches up the routine by taking turns rubbing your clit and teasing the entrance of your opening, to gradually and expertly slipping in and giving a curl or two inside of you.

“You feel that?” He asks, his finger hooking inside, “I can feel you,” he says before extending the digit to dive in deeper. David comments huskily in your ear, “so wet,” then teasingly nibbling on it, “so warm...and ready for me.”

Your arousal overflowing, slicking your thighs and staining the bed. His fingers were beginning to move faster, running off course, and just begging for the dam to break. The lewd wet noises mixed in with the moans, you choke out a gasp, no longer able to keep hold of the reservoir as you come from his handy work. His wet hand grips your waist in an attempt to hold you still all while you’re drowning in the pleasure.

You mumble swears into the side of the pillow while also trying to wipe the sweat that had built up around your forehead on the fabric. You’re not sure what brought that on, but who were you to complain? His release is your pleasure. Whatever he needed to work out, you were more than willing to be at his disposal.

Shuffling noises could be heard behind you, but you’re still recovering from the first orgasm. It’s not until the crotch of your panties are being pushed to the side and you feel the tip of his bare cock, the velvety skin rubbing harshly between your folds, when he pushes in your eyes snap open. There’s a slight sting at the intrusion with every inch of his thick cock sinking in deeper and deeper, stretching you out. He’s got almost a death grip on your hips as he basks in the warmth of your walls. His hand loosens its hold only to hoist your leg up, as it now rests on the bed, giving him more room to properly fuck you. All you can hear is his jagged and warm breaths pounding at your eardrum.

The force of his thrusts pushes you little by little away from him, he has to wrap his arms around you to keep you in place. Now unable to escape his embrace, you hold onto his forearms tightly as hip hips continue to collide into yours.

“Oh-oh my...God,” you can barely muster up a full sentence, “Fuck! Dav-...you’re-...it feels so good, David,” and it sounds as if the words are being knocked out of your mouth with each thrust. He liked hearing his name spill from your lips and as if you read his mind you give him that until your throat is dry and the intensity of his actions render you unable to do so.

Your hands itching to grab a hold of any part of him, you release your death grip on the bed sheets and reach behind you, over your head, and fist a handful of his short dark hair. It’s hot and sweaty, but you don’t care because the noise you pull out from deep in his throat ignites a new spark in the pit of your stomach and your walls to involuntarily squeeze his length.

He reluctantly pulls out of you and presses your body down to lie flat on your back. The fervor coursing through his veins causes him to pull your underwear all the way down your legs, a light snap could be heard from the rough tug indicating the damage done. After he peels off the sweat stained top off of your body and rids himself completely of his boxers, David settles in between your legs, braces one hand on the side of your head to support himself as the other cradles it.

David brushes the matted hair away from your face. It’s still considerably dark and only the moonlight that peaks through the slit of the drawn curtains help his eyes settle on you and take in the vulnerable look on your face; both bare open for the other. You can feel the ridge of the head of his cock glide against your clit and you wonder why he’s taking so long to finish what he started.

“David, please,” you plead softly. Your hand had come up to trace the outline of his jaw, the first signs of an early stubble pricking the skin on the palm of your hand.

He nods in response and slowly slides his body down a few inches to glide right back in. Your back arches and presses up against his, your hardened nipples poke into the soft faint tresses of hair on his chest. David’s hips ground into yours in wavelike motions, hitting deeper and deeper. He dips his head down closer to you, your mouth hung open in ecstasy, allowing him to tug your bottom lip with his teeth then sucking on the full muscle. David runs his tongue along it to soothe the swollenness before dipping in the cavern of your mouth.

Your tongues instantly collide with one another’s. Your eyes shut tightly, wetness pooling at the corners from the ardent passion radiating from both you and David’s actions. He felt so damn good. You wished you could have this, be like this with him, for the rest of your days, but the reality of it all wasn’t going to just hand it to you so easily. His children, Vicky, his profession, his PTSD - despite all those, you’d go through it all. All for David.

You pull your mouth off his for some air. You open your eyes to see him staring right into you. The bright blue eyes turned a deeper shade, almost black in the night and from want, but you could still make out the sadness behind them. The tears that had run down the side of your face for him burn your ears. Now more than anything you wanted to make him feel good, even if it was only temporary. He needed this release.

“It’s okay,” you’re still struggling to communicate, trying to block the pleasure so you can speak properly, “it’s okay, David...you can use me,” finding one of his hands in yours and finally giving him permission.

David stills, eyes never leaving yours, he’s looking for confirmation that he heard you right. Why would you want him to do that to you? His heart swelled at the notion that you trusted him, but he couldn’t trust himself. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You see his mouth open and close, but nothing audible comes out, so you take the initiative and grab the hand that wasn’t supporting him over your frame. You crane your head back, baring yourself to him, and then place his hand on the column of your neck, his fingers settling themselves around it naturally. He shakes his head in protest, you start to feel his hand slipping away, but you’re quick to reposition his hand back on you.

“Are you sure? I might not be able to stop,” he says hesitantly. Your eyes silently let him know you’re certain. This time he nods and leans in for a bruising kiss to your lips, the close proximity of his face momentarily blocks your airway. When he pulls away, he gives you a few seconds to transition.

The quick and sharp thrusts don’t make it easy because that alone knocked the wind out of you, yet you won’t deny the sweet sensation of his dick probing your spot. The pleasure is almost enough to do the job on its own until the pressure from David’s fingers around your throat tightens gradually.

You’re rendered helpless underneath David as he gets back into rhythm. He maneuvers his legs to get him into a slight kneeling position, lifting your hips up, your legs dangle off his thick thighs, but this allows for him to use the hand previously supporting him to join the other on your neck. The realization of him kicking it up a notch sends a warning signal to your brain and you suddenly start to get scared. Sure, you trusted David, but that didn’t block out the fact that he still wasn’t stable.

You struggle to swallow down any fear and even to widen your eyes as his grip grows tighter and tighter. You can’t even gurgle out a whimper of protest. You’re lucky enough to raise your arms and bring your hands on his and desperately attempt to pry his fingers off you. You stare right back at David and notice his empty eyes. He wasn’t in control anymore and you didn’t dare think who he was seeing in front of him instead of you.

In a heat of frenzy, your legs kick up wildly, frantically trying to push his body off yours. Your efforts prove successful as David’s body falters, however only letting his full body weight collapse on you. Before your vision turns black, you manage to pull one hand away from your neck, creating a sense of ease to creep back in, but the hard look on his face crushes your hopes when you think you’ve lost him.

“Dav-“ you attempt to speak, “David,” his name comes out choppy, but you’re able to get something out. “David, it’s me…,” you plead, hoping that’s enough to bring him back.

“David, please,” the grip of his hand might as well have been iron shut around your neck, you’re like an animal clawing at a door. So just when you think that wasn’t enough, that you weren’t enough, you use the last bit of oxygen to admit your feelings, “I’m sorry, David…” you swore you saw his eyes blink, but nothing changed until your next three words, “I love you,” that all movements ceased. You’d given up, but he stayed hovered over you in shock. Then he instantly lets go allowing oxygen to start flowing through you regularly again.

David slides out and off of you, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed in a sitting position with his back to you once more, a hand over his mouth. He can’t believe he’d actually lost control of himself around you. He saw you had trusted him, but he knew he wasn’t well. He should’ve never let you go through with it. He could’ve unintentionally killed you.

You greedily sucked air back into your system and rubbed the soreness on your neck before looking over to David. His sobs wreck his body and you can tell by the slight whimpers and sniffling sounds. You pull yourself up, paying no mind to any modesty, and scoot closer to him. You cautiously lie your head against his back. You feel his body stiffen a bit, so you begin to softly trace the lines of battle scars that scattered his back, delicate touches on the soft tissue, hoping to calm him down.

“David, it’s okay,” your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s still audible and clear, “I’m okay,” you assure him. He finally turns his body around to face you and your heart breaks at the distress on his beautiful face. You feel guilty you let him do this, but you’re not allowed to feel sorry for yourself too long because David wanted to talk about something else.

“You love me?” He questions and your mouth hangs open, at a loss of words, because you’ve already forgotten that you let that slip. There’s a forlorn look of hope etched along his features and your heart stops. There’s no sense in denying it any longer. If it hadn’t been clear before it sure as hell would be by the end of the night.

You nod and confirm, “always...I’ve always loved you, David.” There wasn’t a need to explain for how long. The admission of feelings alone were enough for David to forget about all the wasted time as he dove in, his lips in search of yours again.

He keeps a hand at the back of your head to keep you close, more “I love you’s” spewing from your mouth each time your lips separate for a split second before reattaching themselves. The declaration never goes deaf on both your ears, hearts beating faster and faster.

With your lips resisting to pull away from one another, you manage to crawl onto his lap, straddling him, the moment reignites the fire inside you. You rise up on your knees, giving you a slight height advantage, you brace one hand on his shoulder, the other reaches down between your bodies to grip his still hardened cock. It’s hot and heavy and slightly sticky in your hand as you rub the tip of the head along the pathway to your entrance, effectively coating him for an easy route.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” you say with bated breath and focused only on him, “please.” Not much convincing was needed, and David’s cock slips back in your wet heat with no protest. You sink all the way down, grinding your hips in circular motions, your clit rubbing against his skin and ensuring he’s bottomed out.

“Oh, you feel good,” he says, voice growing deeper, and at first he’s cautious before laying his hands back on you, but they settle on the sides of your hips and begin to help guide you up and down his cock, “too good,” he growls when you quickly catch on with the movements.

He’s able to drag your bodies to the center of the bed, but when the boiling point rises back up, you push him down, lean back with your hands on his legs to support you, and head thrown back. David picks his head up and the position allows for him to see not only your naked body but how your pussy engulfs his cock repeatedly sending him into overdrive.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” David chants each time his cock is hidden inside you and he resorts to chewing on his bottom lip to contain the expletives.

You feel his hand reach behind you, grabbing a handful of your ass, his strength pulls you in closer by the hips so he’s in all the way once more, you can feel his balls pressed up tight against your bottom, then your body topples over his. You brace your palms of his pecs to prevent you from falling headfirst into him, but his other hand is already at the back of your head bringing your lips back to each other. David’s hips start bucking up into yours to get you back into the groove, but the ache in your legs don’t allow you to perform at 100% anymore.

David rolls your bodies over, with you underneath, and his hips quicken in pace. Your body heaves uncontrollably as you’re close to the edge again and the sweat glistening on your skin has David’s mouthwatering.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he comments sliding a hand down your slick body from between the valley of your breasts and to the top of your mound. He wants to say I love you so badly but feels the moment he does he’d break down once more. He knew he loved you and always had too, but in his mind, he didn’t want to give you the hope of having to live with his damaged self. You didn’t need to hear it though because you could feel it.

“Come on, baby,” you encourage him, “give it to me, David,” and your hands finding a new spot on his firm ass to pull him in deeper, “I want it all,” you resort to a begging tactic. It deems successful when you start to feel the sting of each brutal thrust of his hip bones knock into yours causing you to hiss and your nails to dig into his buttocks as he chases sweet euphoria.

He tackles it at the finish line, stilling deep inside of you, and the feeling of his cum spraying straight into your spot, spurts in different intervals, is more than enough to help you tackle your own release. Your legs keep his body locked in, waiting for the aftershocks to subside, he’s quivering from your walls uncontrollably contracting tight around his cock and he does so much as to let out groans in gratification.

Once the waves of pleasure die down, your limbs drop, and he carefully pulls out. He doesn’t know if it was a mistake or not watching his sensitive cock emerge from you, covered in a glossy coat from your release, and his seed spilling out of you slowly then slide down your sore lower half and stain the bed sheets because it begins to elicit more dirty thoughts, but both of your heavy breathing and aching bodies help suggest to put those ideas away for now.

In these rare moments, you were enough to help him block out the world’s harsh realities. He doesn’t regret Ella and Charlie, but never stops wondering how it’d been like if he had kids with you first. Had he waited just a little bit longer for you, but what was the point in dwelling in any of that now? The internal conflict in his mind caused droplets of tears to splash against your cheeks and you start to notice his hurt.

All you do is wrap your arms back around him to pull him into your loving embrace, him nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and you placing kisses on his head while also running your fingers through his hair. Both of you can feel each other’s heart beats returning to its regular cardiac rhythms. The heavy breathing starts to fade away and the faint sounds of the city start to take over once more as you both begin to drift off.

David would work. He’d work on himself for you. You deserve the best version of him. It was going to take a lot of hard work and willpower, and there would sure to be many obstacles, but now that life presented him with a second chance and allowed him the privilege to be loved by you, he desired nothing more than to return the same compassion. All for you. It was always there within him to love you but locked away when it found no hope or chance to be fulfilled.

He didn’t dare think about what the following morning at work had in store for him or what would result in the catalyst of it all because in that moment he had you with him.

A/N: There are only two shows I’d willingly have my memory wiped of just for the thrill in rewatching: Prison Break and Bodyguard. I’d have said Twin Peaks, but that’s always going to lie a mystery within. & maybe GoT, but that ruined my life. Anyway, give this some love for our fragile babe! Thank you for reading!

#mrwinterr writes #david budd imagine #david budd smut #richard madden imagine #richard madden smut #david budd x reader #david budd x y/n #richard madden x y/n #david budd x yn #richard madden x yn #bodyguard imagine

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fated-imaginings · 2 years

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Emiya, the Cù, and Diarmuid all find out their friendly but seemingly anti-social Master isn't actually anti-social, Master's just been busy with their secret wall to wall farm in their room which explains the random junk(used to make planters), dirt and plant bits they randomly grab while on missions and the random medical herbs and produce that appear in the infirmary and kitchen respectively. Master feels the need to explain themselves and sum it up to "so basically "magic farmers" is what my family decided to be instead of regular mages, we use magecraft speed up growth of plants and make them higher quality to make supplies for spells and stuff, I figured we could use said supplies seeing as we aren't getting help from outside chaldea.....wanna help me with this and convincing people to let me turn a bigger room then my own, into a greenhouse?"

- They hadn't all been sure exactly what Master was up to, at first. Sure, a bit of gardening or house plants were expected, given the signs. But something of this scale was a shock. There were so many plants, and grown to such an extent! The explanation, at least, clears plenty of things up.

- Really, all of them think it's a good idea. Medicinally of course, and CasCu being a druid is fully willing to help out there...though Emiya might secretly be hoping for some spices to be added to the roster with the benefit of more space.

- Luckily, Chaldea is huge. One of the entertainment rooms was easily converted into a greenhouse, and the gaggle of Servants were happy to help their Master get everything moved, and to set up shelves, a watering system, and the like.

- Emiya surprisingly has a green thumb, and the plants do well around any Cu...poor Diarmuid is the one a little left out, never one for gardening. Perhaps his father has something to do with it, being a god of the dead. Still, he's quite happy to help where he's able.

- That day, they heard Master talking more than ever, about their different plants, their ideas for the greenhouse, about what they had so far and what they would like to add. Certainly not anti-social indeed.

- From then on, it isn't uncommon to find the Master in their greenhouse, tending to the ever increasing roster of plants. CasCu is the most common sight with them, although Proto and Lancer also are quite happy to work with them. Alter isn't as enthused, especially if it's busy...but he doesn't mind lending a hand now and then. Diarmuid most often comes by to chat, or do a bit of heavy lifting, while Emiya...Emiya puts the new spices to good use for everyone to enjoy after a day's work.

#Emiya archer #diarmuid lancer #diarmuid ua duibhne #cu chulainn lancer #cu chulainn caster #cu chulainn prototype #cu chulainn alter #fate grand order #fate series

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Corruption Zone (Dabi x Reader)

Summary: You and your little group of surviving heroes are trying to make the best out of survival in a decaying city, torn apart by Shigaraki and his League of Villains. You’ve weathered many storms and many hero hunting villains, but as it turns out, the worst is still to come.

Pairing: Dabi x Reader Rating: E+ Warnings: Apocalypse AU. Dubcon, coercion, blackmail, mind break, major character deaths (I mean, hello apocalypse AU), yandere. Word Count: 8k+ Note: My entry for the BNHarem Discord collab! The theme this time around was apocalypse AU, and I had a lot of fun world building. I feel like I pushed myself out of my comfort zone with this one, so I hope you all enjoy it! The full masterlist can be found here, so make sure you check out the fics from all of the talented writers!

You sigh heavily as you glance around an old abandoned warehouse where you and your party are hiding out like rats in filth. You've been working on making the place habitable for you and your group, cleaning out some of the trash, unpacking what little supplies you have, and shoring up the place's defenses. It's not particularly hard work, but it's time-consuming and has left you exhausted.

But when you hear one of the doors open, all your exhaustion leaves you as you turn quickly on your heel to see who the intruder is. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Shouto enter, fresh off a supply run. Your relief quickly turns to concern as you see that he's bleeding, and you rush over to check on him.

The fact that both Shouto and Katsuki were injured on a supply run is terrifying to you. They are your two most skilled fighters, and the ones doing the heavy lifting when it comes to protection. You merely help out as you can, acting as leader and support of your little band of fugitives.

"What happened," you ask as you begin to check out the wounds. You realize you graze a particularly sensitive spot as Shouto hisses out a curse under his breath.

"There were no supplies or food at our usual spots. Bakugou decided to go deeper into villain territory to try to find something."

"And you just decided to go along with it," your voice comes out sharper than you mean, your concern for both of them showing through your anger. "We've discussed this, villain territory is too dangerous to just waltz right into."

"You know how he gets," Shouto gives a deep sigh. "And he hates the fact the group is so hungry."

"I know it's been a while since we've had real food, but it's not going to do us any good if you get yourselves killed. "Unfortunately, this is a massive understatement. The fact of the matter is your group is starving, and if something were to happen to Shouto or Katsuki, your group was done for.

"You try telling him that. He thinks we should be taking the offensive against the villains instead of hiding, anyway." Shouto sounds worn down, exasperated by his fellow pro-hero's attitude.

You know how right Shouto is. Bakugou believes that your group will be wiped out, one person at a time, if you continue on your current course. If you don't stop trying to simply survive.

Secretly, in the deepest darkest part of your heart, you agree. You have been losing members of your party slowly but steadily, and every loss seems to ripple through the group like an open wound. Worse than the starvation, worse than the hiding, was the heartbreak of all the friends and family your group has lost.

You hear the door slam open, and then closed as the explosive male himself storms into the room. He's also injured, but looks far better than Shouto does. "You're damned right, Icy-Hot. I'm sick of this hiding shit, we're not getting anywhere with it. We need to take the fight to them."

"And how are we supposed to do that, Bakugou? We don't know enough about what happened that day to keep blindly running into villain territory. For all we know, Shigaraki could still be alive."

You know Bakugou has been railing against stealth, against the hiding ever since hero society broke down. But Shouto has a point, as much as it terrifies you to admit it. The notorious League of Villains leader is MIA as far as you're all concerned, and you have no idea if he still lives or was killed in the spread of decay that happened on that horrible day several months ago.

"Tch, he could also be dead," Bakugou scoffs. "With all communications gone, the only way to find out for sure is to go into the Corruption Zone."

The Corruption Zone was the epicenter of it all, the place where this whole thing was believed to have started. The only reliable information anyone could get was that a catastrophic event spread across the city center like a creeping rot. There was no telling how many innocent people were caught in the crossfire, no reliable death toll.

"Yeah? You know that we have no information to go by. We'd be rushing in blindly." Shouto snapped back. You place your hand on your forehead, feeling a headache coming on with the argument you know is about to happen.

"We have reports from heroes coming out of that area," Bakugou pointed out.

"The reports are unreliable and conflicting. Until we know more, we should be cautious."

"The fuck is the use in being cautious? If we don't have good information, then we should get it on our own!" Bakugou storms towards Todoroki, and you begin to make a move to step in between them. But you're saved from having to break up a fight when Bakugou abruptly turns and storms to the door leading outside the building.

"I'm doing a perimeter search. There might be villains around."Todoroki glances at you before falling into step with him as he moves to follow. Despite their differences, the two work well together, and you have been with them for several months now. You had met up with them as you were fleeing the destruction on the west side of the city, being one of the few heroes to make it out. Some might call you lucky for surviving and meeting up with them. You call yourself cursed.

You make a move to go with them before Bakugou gives you a death glare over his shoulder. "I sure as hell don't need you to come with me, so stay here," the words coming out in a growl. His words sound gruff, but they come from a place of fear. Fear that something will happen to you and the rest of the group. "Icy-Hot, let's go."

"We'll be right back, I promise," Shouto reassures you with a small smile after he sees your look of worry, and you nod your head at both of them. You trust both of these men with your lives. If they say they're coming back, then they will be.

While they're busy outside, you're about to do your own quick search of the warehouse when you hear a voice rise up from behind you. "Well well well, what do we have here, fellas?" You turn around to see three men blocking your exit. They were all dressed in black, with black combat boots and so many weapons strapped to their bodies that you could barely count them all. "Such a pretty little whore, running around all by herself." He glances at the other two men before smirking. "You a hero, little thing? You don't look like one."

Ah, low-level villains, obviously. Annoying, but not truly a threat to you. Your quirk isn't exactly the best for combat, being a supportive and not an offensive quirk, but you have a group backing you up and you're no pushover. You simply need to stall for a bit of time before the rest meet up with you.

"Would be a shame to leave her on the streets like this, don't you agree," the shorter of the men chuckles. "I don't think this one looks cut out to be a hero, do you?" The third simply nods his head at the question directed at him, his expression barely changing. He appears to be the follower of the group, content to simply await his next command.

Encounters like these aren't so uncommon. Some villains have moved on, content to rule their little territories in whatever way they liked. But others still have a grudge against heroes, choosing to continue to satiate their bloodlust by hunting them down and making examples of them.

These were obviously the second type, and that usually meant they had more rage than common sense. The type to hunt down heroes were never usually the brightest of the bunch, and were equally as prone to dying by the hands of other villains than they were of actually killing anyone. They have no ideology, nothing keeping them going but their pure rage.

What seems to be the leader of this ragtag group makes his first move, lunging out at you with surprising quickness for a man as large as he is. But you're quicker, and you launch yourself easily out of the way and use his momentum to throw him off balance and down to the ground. The shorter one lets out a disgruntled noise before making a go at you himself. This one is quite a bit faster, and you're not able to dodge in time before he's on you. You do a sharp twist before bringing your heavy steel-toed boots down towards his ankle. You connect and hear a cracking noise as he begins to howl and attempts to limp away from you.

You glance over at the remaining one, confident that he won't make a move on you after his partners humiliated themselves so badly. And you're proven to be right as he gives you a quick, respectful nod before turning and fleeing. He barely makes it two steps before ice covers his feet and crawls slowly up his legs. You grin as you see Todoroki, but your grin falls as you see his look of cold fury at anybody daring to attack you.You're pulled away from Todoroki by the sound of cursing and explosions as a loud, angry male comes flying down from a nearby ceiling. You can't help but roll your eyes at his sense of overdramatics before you notice the leader of the group out of the corner of your eye. You're going to be too late to dodge, you think with quiet fear, as you see him running towards you with a knife in hand. But Bakugou has already noticed, activating a burst of explosion from his hands to launch himself at the villain and throwing his arm out to block.

You see the skin on his arm split as blood gushes from the wound, but it doesn't even phase him as he throws a hard punch to the leader's head. There is a sickening crack as he connects, and the villain falls to the group unconscious.

You give the man an unimpressed stare. "Do you always have to be so damned loud, Bakugou?""Tch, fine then, don't thank me for saving your ass." He scoffs at you with no real venom in his voice. "And next time, I won't."

"You shouldn't have done that, you know," you give a long-suffering sigh as you grab what little medical supplies remain. You take out the gauze, disinfecting the wound before starting to wrap it up in bandages. "I had that covered just fine without you."

He gives you a snarl before pulling his arm roughly away from you. He's anything but dumb, and he knows how much of a lie your comment is. He knows how much of a skill gap you have between the two of you, even without taking his arrogance into consideration. "Yeah? Should I have let you die?"

"No, that's not what I -"

"Because that's what would have happened," he glares at you. "You're support, not offense. You need people to shield you, and he was closing in. Bastard had you, and we both know it. And I can't - we can't afford to lose any more people."

"I know that you feel responsible, that you weren't strong enough, but none of the losses were your fault -"

"Tch, whatever, I have shit to do," he scoffs as he quickly stands up to walk away. To avoid the conversation that he didn't want to hear. "I wish that he wouldn't blame himself so much." You glance over at Shouto, standing there with a stoic look on his face. "He has done everything in his power to protect this little family of ours, same as you. Beaten himself up over every loss we've had."

"You know how he is. Thinks if he were better, stronger, than we wouldn't have lost anybody at all."

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of everything and everyone that you've lost up until this point, all the friends you've watched die. But you are still carrying on, still surviving. Your group has united together, your places and your roles all sorted and running smoothly.

But things have changed recently, a strange atmosphere seeming to fill the air. Nothing that could be described precisely, but something the entire group felt. As if the world was holding its breath, waiting for some event that would yet again change the course of this world. Something was coming, something big. And you have no idea what it was or what to expect.

But you are all still heroes even in these circumstances, and you have long ago learned to trust your instincts. So you began to move more frequently, find better hiding places. You don't stay in any one place for long, because staying still means villains being able to hunt you down. Staying still meant death.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the sound of someone rustling through their bag. As you glance up, you see one of your group pulling out a rope to tie up the villains. She notices you looking and smiles. "I don't think these two will be any sort of threat anymore." You mentally curse yourself for getting distracted enough to forget you still had villains in the area, even if they are unconscious.

You glance at Shouto, the more level headed of your group, and he gives a quick nod. "I agree, I think they are too much of a coward to come after us again." You give a nod as you quickly move to help the woman tie them up, trusting his expertise on these things.

You all know that this could either be a cruel or a merciful action. If other villains, even a few other heroes find these men, they could be killed outright. But if they can escape, then they earn their freedom, provided they don't come back after your group to take revenge. Villain or not, you feel the weight of this, having to make these decisions to protect your group.

Shouto sees the look on your face, and knowing your thoughts, walks over to put a hand gently on your shoulder. "It's getting dark soon, and we need to bunker down. We all know how dangerous it gets when it's dark." He gives you a meaningful look, but doesn't point out the painful truth. Doesn't mention the night a month ago when your group lost several members due to being caught after dark. That incident is what led to a group decision never to let that happen again. It was simply not worth the risk, even with your group at full power. And lately, none of you can claim full power.

"Everything is clear, right?" You ask both men. At their nod, you move to leave the area.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Bakugou snarls at you as he makes his way to stop you.

"There are a few people still outside," you explain as patiently as you can. "I'm just going to grab them really quickly. It will be fine." You wait to see if Shouto will agree, being the more relaxed of the two. He's not any less protective than Bakugou, but he is usually the more reasonable of the two.

He gives a quick nod at you. "Just make it quick. We'll go the other direction and grab the rest. I'm not sure what's taking them so long."

You turn on your heel quickly as you make your way out of the building, hurrying before either one of them can change their mind. You know they're concerned about you, but you've taken on the role as leader within your group. It's your responsibility just as much as theirs to keep everyone safe.

But as you make your way to the area where everyone was gathered earlier, you hear nothing. No chatting and laughing as they keep themselves entertained like they were earlier. Pure ice seeps through your veins as you run the rest of the distance. But you stop cold at what you see there.

Blood. Blood on the ground, blood on the chairs, blood splattered everywhere. There are no bodies anywhere that you see, only the blood. "No no no," you whisper to yourself in horror. "Please, this can't be happening. Please don't let us lose anyone else."

But before you can decide what to do, you hear the sounds of battle and the crackling of distant fire. Shouto and Bakugou, you think with alarm, they must have gotten into some danger back at the warehouse. But as you run in that direction, you see something alarming.

The crackling you heard are flames, bright, dazzling blue flames. The scent of smoke is heavy in the air, fog covering everything as you stop to stare at the devastation. The warehouse that was to be your hideout has gone up like kindling, fully engulfed by the strange blue flames. A distant memory hits you, something you read during a news article about a villain with a flame quirk that was described similarly. But those thoughts all fly from your head as you see something that makes you stop in your tracks.

A still smoldering dead body was lying on its side away from you. Please please please, you send up a silent prayer, please don't be any of my group. But your hopes are dashed as you run over. The outfit looks familiar, jeans and a pink shirt with sneakers and a backpack lying behind her. You know this woman, have known her since the beginning. She was kind, gentle, and like you, she was not a front line fighter. For her to be dead, the enemies had to have cut a swathe through your defenses. Had to have gotten through Bakugou and Shouto.

You stand up quickly as you scan the area looking for enemies. As much as you'd like to cover her up, mourn her, you know that this is not the time for that. You have to protect the rest of the group from meeting the same fate. After their safety is secured, you can either count your losses and grieve, or you will no longer be around to care.

You creep slowly into the warehouse, trying not to jump at every shadow you see. You see no villains, but you do see more bodies—all from your group, all smoldering with that same blue flame. The smoke begins to fill the room, causing your eyes to burn and a coughing fit to start.

Before you can try to leave to get some fresh air, you hear dark laughter from behind you, and a wave of heat rush towards you. You throw your body to the side as you roll to prevent any injury from slamming into the concrete ground. As you whirl around to face your attacker, you are shocked by what you see.

It's a tall, lanky man dressed in black leather pants, a white shirt stretched tight against his chest and a black leather jacket over the shirt. Most distinctive, however, were the noticeable burn scars covering most of the exposed skin you see. His face, arms, and hands are all littered with them, with staples buried in the skin as if to hold it in place. You unintentionally meet his eyes, and you see they are the same shocking blue of his flames, staring directly into you as if trying to analyze and exploit every weakness you have. And his cocky smirk says he has the confidence to do just that.

This isn't one of those aimless villains you've encountered before. No, this is a hero hunter with a purpose. With an ideal. One that genuinely believes in the deaths of all heroes, who will stop at nothing to end his target. You instantly know that this one would fight to the death for his ideals, and in this tragic landscape of a former city, that was exactly what had to happen to make him stop. You are hopelessly outmatched. He knows it too, by the way he carries himself so casually, by the way he looks at you like you are nothing but an obstacle in his way.

"I don't know what you want, but you need to leave." You back slowly away with your hands up as you try to convince him you're not a threat. "The rest of my group will be here any minute now." It's a bluff, a large one at that. You don't know how many of your group are left alive or where Katsuki and Shouto are. But it's the only option you have. There is no way you can fight a villain of this caliber on your own, not with your pure support quirk.

"Aww, princess, you're a terrible liar." He tsks at you as he begins to saunter towards you. You back away a few more steps as you make your way to a back exit. You remember where it is even without having to look, having memorized the warehouse hours before you even decided to stay here.

The villain's smirk widens when he sees your body tense, and flames rise to his palm as he lifts his arm. This is it, you're dead, he's far too close for you to dodge the flames that are about to come for you.

But instead, he sends the fire towards something behind you and your blood freezes in your veins as you hear a blood-curdling scream behind you. You whirl around and see another member of your party on fire, but before you can run to him a wall of fire surrounds you, trapping you in with the villain.

You turn to stare at him in horror, unable to comprehend what is happening. Unable to understand that you just watched someone else you care for die a brutal death.

"Speechless, sweetheart? I know I have that effect on people."

There is no way out, flames surrounding you on all sides except for where the villain is standing. As you study him one more time, you realize you've heard of someone matching his description before. You sort through all the information you have of known hero hunters, trying to match his flashy appearance with a name. But when your shocked brain supplies it, you almost wish you didn't know.

"I know who you are," you try to sound confident, but your voice lacks power and comes out timid. "You're the League of Villains member, Dabi. The one who attacked the training camp at UA. Known for arsons and murders across the city even before this began."

This man is one of the League's most elite members, and happily took to the task of hunting down remaining heroes after the catastrophe began. He is well out of your skill range, and even with Katsuki and Shouto, this would be a difficult battle. With you alone, you stand no chance.

"Oh? So nice to be recognized," he grins at you. "I keep killing the stupid ones who don't know me. A little disheartening, I must admit."

"Where is the rest of my group? Are they - "You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence, to ask the burning question of how many of your friends are still alive.

"Hmm, and what would you say if I told you they're not all dead?" He cocks his head to the side as he stares at you.

"I'd say you're probably lying, or they'll all be dead soon." "

Wrong on the first count, right on the second. Unless…" he drags out the last word, watching your expression as it turns to cautious hope.

"Unless what?" The words stumble out too quickly, making you seem too eager, and his expression sharpens with amusement to see it.

"Unless you do a little favor for me, doll." A sense of dread crawls up your spine at the thought of doing a favor for the villain standing in front of you, but you feel like you have no other option but to hear him out. At worst, it's something you won't do and you'll die here and there with the rest of your group. At best, it's something you can tolerate and you all live to see another day.

“What's the favor? I'm not saying I'll do it, but I'll hear you out."

"Don't really have much of a choice there, do you?" He rolls his eyes as he waves his hands around to indicate the fire spreading across everything.

"Just get the fuck on with it," you hiss at him, not wanting to play this little game with him anymore. "Tell me what you want."

His smirk turns dark as he gives you a long, lingering glance up your body. "What I want is you, doll."

Your eyes widen at his words, and you try to think of something, anything else that he could possibly mean by such a statement. But you know deep down exactly what this man wants from you. "I - I don't, I mean…"

"You're acting like a blushing virgin, doll." But he looks surprised when you do blush, eyes shifting away to look at anything but the man standing before you.

He throws his head back and lets out a deep laugh. "You really are a virgin. Fuck, I lucked out finding you, didn't I?"

You want to back away, run, and get out of this situation, but the fire behind you prevents you. So you're forced to simply watch as he begins to approach you, coming to stand far too close for your comfort. He reaches out a burnt hand to cup your chin as he forces you to look up into his eyes. They are even more of a brilliant blue this close, and you can't stop yourself from staring into them.

"What will you do if I say no," your fear preventing you from raising your voice above a whisper. "Then your group dies, simple as that." A casual statement, as if it means nothing for him to wipe out an entire group of innocent people. You begin to tremble at what you know you're about to do. You don't want this, not at all. But you want your group to die even less. What is a little indignity if it secures their safety?

You give a quick nod, not wanting to say the words that mean you agree to this.

His hand goes to your neck as he squeezes, putting enough pressure into the movement that your breath is forced out of you. "Use your words, doll."

Not surprising that he'll be cruel about this, making you utter the words that agree to this proposition despite the fact that you have no real choice in the matter. "I agree."

His grip tightens on your neck again, even harder this time as he doesn't immediately let go. He waits until you reach a hand out to grab his arm, trying to pull it off you before he finally lets go.

You take a quick gulp of air before talking. "Fine, I'm yours, is that what you want to hear?" You snap the words out at him, fear making you bolder than you should be.

Your question is answered as his hand comes to tangle into your hair, lips crashing into yours as he pulls you roughly into him. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he dominates the kiss, teeth nibbling at your lip as he massages your tongue with his own. It's a sloppy, heated kiss that has drool dripping down your chin when he pulls away, lips already looking red and swollen from his biting.

"God, I am going to enjoy ruining you, doll," he growls into your ear.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer into his body, hand going under your shirt to rub up your back. His hand is almost hot enough to burn, and you try to wiggle away only for him to clamp down harder. He drags you over to a clean area of ground as he shoves you down onto the hard cement, settling in between your thighs.

"You - you want to do this here?" You manage to choke out in shock.

He grinds himself against your core as he laughs. "And why not? Good a place as any." He runs his hands along your sides as he pushes your shirt up, leaning down to kiss the skin around your stomach.

"But - the fire, and what if any of my group comes in -"

His hand glows blue for a split second as he grabs your shirt, burning it off of you and throwing it to the side. "Then I guess they get to see you fucked like the whore you are." He pulls you up enough to place heated kisses along the column of your neck, sucking dark marks into the skin as he continues to grind against your core.

You pant a bit, feeling like you're burning up yourself as sweat rolls down your body from the heat of the fire and the heat of him. He traces a finger along your bra, a plain white number that you found when you were desperate for new clothes. "Nice bra," he snickers as he unhooks it with one hand, throwing it aside just as casually before taking a breast into his hand. "I should find you something prettier than that."

He kneads the soft flesh of your breast and tweaks the nipple with his other hand, taking it into his mouth. He sucks just the side of too hard, and you squirm at the slight stab of pain as he grazes it deliberately with his teeth.

"Would you just get on with it already," you snapped, wanting this experience to be over with as quickly as possible so you can move on.

"You agreed, doll," he smirks, "and that means I'm going to take my time with you."

He reaches down to unzip your pants, tugging on them as he looks at you. "Unless you want me to burn these off of you, I'd suggest taking them off."

You quickly raise your hips and wiggle them down a bit, not wanting him to use his fire so close to your skin. It's a bit hard to pull them off, the heat of the room causing you to sweat. Eventually, Dabi gets impatient at your progress and rips them off with one quick movement.

He spreads your legs quickly with one hand as he runs a finger up your clothed sex. You quickly look away from what he's doing, only to feel his palm on your legs get hotter. You snap your eyes back at him as he stares at you with a menacing look.

"Don't you dare look away, doll," he growls, "I want you to watch as I eat this pretty pussy."

His vulgar words cause a jolt of arousal within you, and you timidly look into his eyes as he pulls your panties to the side. He rubs two fingers up your folds, causing you to let out a small gasp.

"Mmm, doll, you're already so fucking wet for me." Dabi groans as he licks his fingers. "You DO want this, you little hero slut."

"N-n-no, I don't, I really -" But the rest of your sentence is cut off as he dives down in between your legs, licking along your folds as his nose prods against your clit.

"Oh shit, please stop," you moan as you throw your head backward, trying to ignore how good it feels. But the feeling only gets more intense as he spreads you apart enough to take your throbbing clit into his mouth. You let out a surprised shout, the pleasure of it taking you by surprise as you feel yourself getting wet.

Dabi doesn't mind as he licks up your juices before lashing his tongue against your pearl, slipping a finger into your tight heat at the same time.

"Oh fuck doll, god you're so tight." He works his finger inside of you as he tries to loosen you up, sucking at your clit the entire time and making you feel dizzy with pleasure. You can't stop your panting, hips bucking almost against your will as you try to seek the feeling you sense building up inside you.

"I bet you've never had someone do this to you, huh?" He slips another finger inside of you, this one going in easily because of how wet you're becoming. You whine at the feeling of his fingers scissoring inside you, opening you up so that he can slip a third finger inside. This time, the feeling stings as he forces his finger past the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You can't stop yourself from clamping down on his fingers, trying to push them out.

He pumps three fingers inside of you as he takes your clit back into his mouth, curling his fingers inside of you until he finds that sensitive spot that has you writhing against him. He slams into that spot over and over again as you feel waves of pleasure building. You don't want to cum, you really don't. Not for this man who is forcing you into this. But you don't seem to have a choice in the matter.

"Fuck, I know you're close doll," he lifts up just enough to whisper, the vibration of his words only causing more pleasure against your throbbing clit. "Don't fight it, just cum for me." His fingers increase their pace even more, pounding his fingers inside of you against that spot that has you seeing stars. "I want you to cum all over my tongue."

Your legs are shaking from trying to hold off against the pleasure, but as he grazes his teeth lightly across your throbbing clit, you squeal as you finally reach your end. Your walls flutter around him as you feel liquid gush out of your cunt. Dabi happily laps it all up like a starved man as he lengthens your orgasm, refusing to stop his fingers from moving inside of you.

When he pulls away, you feel ashamed to see that his mouth is coated with your juices. "Taste yourself, doll, don't you taste delicious?" He chuckles as you try to get away, simply forcing his tongue into your mouth.

He lifts up to undress himself, pulling his jacket and shirt off and revealing a scarred but toned chest. His pants are next to go as he unzips and pulls them off quickly, revealing his lack of underwear when his cock is pulled free from his pants. He is an average length, but girthy with a bead of precum already leaking from the tip. Even more concerning for you are the metal studs that run down his length and a Prince Albert piercing at the head of his cock.

You shiver in fear at the thought of those piercings rubbing against your insides, but it also sends a bolt of arousal straight to your pussy. You quickly glance away, not wanting to look any longer. But Dabi doesn't appreciate you looking away from him. He reaches out to grab your chin, digging his fingers in as he turns your face to his. "You like what you see doll," he whispers, reaching down to pump his cock a few times with a closed fist. "Because this is about to be inside that wet cunt of yours."

You blush furiously at the vulgarity of his words, but you don't dare to look away from him. "You can stop here," you plead in a quiet voice, "you don't have to continue."

"Mmmm, but I want to continue." He grabs your legs as he drags you closer to him, pulling a gasp from your throat as your back is scraped across the cement. He settles himself firmly in between your legs as you feel something prodding at your entrance. "You have no idea how much I want this, doll. Ruining a little hero like you is a chance I can't pass up." He drags his length down your folds as he gathers up your juices to lubricate himself, and the feeling of one of his piercings rubbing against your sensitive clit has you letting out a small moan.

"See, doll?" He grins darkly as he spreads you open with one hand and begins to push in slowly. "Don't try to deny it, you want this. Ahh fuck," he hisses at the feeling of his cockhead breaching your entrance, "god, you're so damned tight."

You let out a whine as you feel him slide in, little by little, into your throbbing cunt. It hurts a bit more than you expected, and you throw your hands up to his chest to try and slow him down. But he simply laughs as he makes a small but hard movement to thrust himself even further into you. You let out a little whimper, head lolling to the side as you try to ignore the pain.

He finally bottoms out inside you before stilling for a second, his legs shaking with the need to be moving inside of you already. You're surprised that he paused at all to let you get used to his size. But your gratefulness vanishes quickly as you feel him grab your hips, shifting into a position that allows him to enter you even deeper. You squirm in pain as you feel him press right against your cervix.

"Am I too rough, little hero?" He mocks as he begins to thrust into you, tearing a small scream from you at the pace that is too quick to be entirely comfortable. "I want this tight little cunt of yours to be sore for days once I'm done with you." His hand runs up and down your body as he fucks you, feeling so hot that you feel like you're on fire. Your skin is drenched with sweat at the heat of his body and the fire still blazing around you. Even the cock pounding away at your throbbing cunt feels too hot. But the piercings dragging against your inner walls are cold, and the contrast in temperature has you moaning unintentionally, feeling pleasure despite yourself.

"That's a good little hero, moan for me." He reaches down to tweak your aching clit between his fingers as he pulls you up just enough to plant open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest. "I want you to cum around my cock, doll, think you can do that for me?"

"N-n-no," you choke back another moan, "I'm not gonna cum for you, you bastard." But you feel the telltale tightening of your lower abdomen, feel the throbbing of your clit like a heartbeat at the need for orgasm.

"Is that so?" His smirk turns vicious. "Guess I'll just have to try harder then, won't I?" You scream as his hand between your bodies gets hotter, two fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit. He begins to change the angle that he's thrusting, watching your reaction closely as he seeks that sensitive spot inside you. He chuckles darkly when he finds it, pulling a loud squeal from your throat as he begins to aim for it mercilessly.

The slap of skin against skin becomes louder, balls smacking against your ass as his fingers rub against your clit even faster. Your cunt clenches down around his cock, and you let out a choked sob as his piercings grind even harder against your inner walls, catching on that sensitive patch inside you.

"Please, fuck," you plead with the villain, not knowing if you're begging him to stop or never to stop. "Please, I need -"

"I know what you need, doll," he hisses out a curse as your pussy contracts around his cock again, lewd wet noises filling the room. "You need to cum, don't you, babygirl?"

When you don't respond, his fingers lashing against your clit suddenly come to a complete stop. "Tell me, is that what you want," he snarls into your ear before trailing lower to sink teeth into your neck.

“God, please yes, I need to cum" you sob out, wrapping your arms around the villain pounding you into submission as you trail your nails down his back. "Dabi, please -'

His fingers instantly go back to your clit, grinding hard against the sensitive bead as he continues to suck bruises into your neck. "Then cum for me, doll, cum all over this cock."

As if on command, you're thrown over the edge, screaming out your orgasm as your cunt flutters around his cock. He doesn't slow down, continuing to move his hips as he fucks you through your orgasm. Tears are running down your face from the overstimulation, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

"Too much," you gasp out as you try to catch your breath, "it's too much."

"Aww, doll, would you be that cruel," he tries to taunt you before cutting his sentence off with a choked curse. Fuck, your cunt is squeezing me so hard, fucking shit."

He no longer cares about your pleasure, wrapping your legs around his waist, thrusts going erratic as he seeks his end. You're so oversensitive that you feel another orgasm building up directly after your last one, and you wail as you feel liquid splash out of you and onto Dabi's chest.

"Fuck yes, good girl," he grunts, "squirt all over my cock as I fill you up."Your eyes widen in shock and alarm as you furiously shake your head. "No, shit Dabi please not inside, I'm not - "

But it's too late, the look on Dabi's face turning into an evil smirk as he locks his hips in place. He lets out a deep groan as you feel thick ropes of cum coat your inner walls, almost burning you with how hot it is. It seems to take forever until he stops cumming inside of you, and tears run down your face as what just happened comes crashing over you.

He pulls out of you with a sigh, sitting up as he looks down at you. "You make such a pretty sight, all fucked out and dripping my cum like a little slut."

You shiver at his words, looking away so he doesn't see how his words send a thrill through your still tired body. You sit up slowly, wincing as you feel how sore you are between your legs. "That's it then, I'm free to go and my group is safe, right?"

He doesn't answer immediately, choosing to dress as slowly as possible with a look on his face that says he's considering the question. "Hmm, I don't recall saying you're free to go."

Your veins turn to ice as you stare at him in confusion, desperately hoping you're misunderstanding. But a deep, dark part of you tells you this is no joke, no misunderstanding. Tells you that you were stupid to trust a villain. "But that was the deal, that my group would be safe and we'd all be free to go."

"Ehh, I changed my mind." You're rendered speechless at the casual tone to his voice, as if he were telling you what the weather was.

"You - what the fuck do you mean, you changed your mind?" Your rage is blinding, leaving your vision to turn red and fury to boil the blood in your veins. You leap up, ignoring all the aches and pains of your body as you rush at Dabi. "Do you mean you're going to kill them?"

He seems unphased by your outburst, merely choosing to laugh at you. "I mean, dear old Shouto is probably already dead."

Your hand flies up to your mouth to stop the scream bubbling up in your throat. "You're lying," your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You shake your head repeatedly, backing up away from Dabi as if to ward off his next words.

"Go see for yourself then." He barely finishes pointing towards one of the exits to the warehouse before you're off, door slamming behind you as you hope and pray that he's lying, that it isn't true.

But it is now fully dark outside, and you're unable to see where you're going. You're in too much of a blind panic to care though, continuing in the direction you think you may find something and not caring about the dangers. You come to an abrupt halt as one foot slips out from under you, causing you to land roughly on your butt.

Your hand lands in something sticky, and you raise it to your face as you try to determine what it is. It's so dark in this area with the power cut off that you can't make out anything besides a mysterious substance. But then a blue flame catches a nearby trash pile on fire, and the blazing light from the flames illuminates the area.

As you slowly look at your hand again, you don't want to acknowledge what's there. Your brain tries to stop you from processing the truth, but it happens anyway. With sharp clarity, you recognize that your hands are covered with blood. That's when the smell comes in, the entire area reeking of iron and smoke.

But the thing that catches your mind the most, that makes you want to scream and never stop screaming, is the body that you see at your feet. Shouto Todoroki, the man you saw just hours earlier, full of life and willing to risk everything to protect you and your group. The man who now lays lifeless at your feet, sightless eyes staring into the sky at nothing. His complexion already looks ashen, and you reach out gingerly to touch him only to realize that he's still warm. This must have been recent, you think.

"Wondering how long he's been dead, doll?" You were so absorbed in staring at Shouto that you didn't even hear Dabi approach.

You slowly nod your head, not able to trust your voice.

"Oh, he was hanging on to life when I found you earlier, doll," Dabi's smile widens into a truly devastating smirk."No no no no no, that can't be the case, it's not true, you're lying, you have to be -" You can't stop the words from tumbling one after the over. You want this all to be a horrific nightmare, but you know this is reality. And you know deep down that Dabi isn't lying this time.

You glance down at the body - no, Shouto, not the body, never the body - and you notice there is wetness on his face. You wonder when it started raining, until you see another droplet hit Shouto's face. You reach your hand numbly up to your face to realize that you're crying, not even realizing when you started.

You feel nausea churning up in your stomach, and you barely stop yourself from throwing up. Hot shame courses through your veins at the thought that while he was dying, hoping for help, you were in there -

Dabi appears in your field of vision as he kneels beside you to peer at your face. "Ohh, that look on your face. Guess you realized the truth, huh? That you were getting off around my cock while my poor, sad little brother was out here dying."

"Brother?!" You're surprised you're able to say anything at all, but the word spills out before you can even stop it."Yeah, brother," he scoffs with disdain. "I was the black sheep of the Todoroki family, the one that got discarded. Always said I'd get my revenge, but I never thought it would be so satisfying."

You know some of the missing persons cases, having researched some of them yourself while you were a student. So you're able to supply the true name of the man in front of you with relative ease. "Touya, you're Touya Todoroki, aren't you?"

"I'm not that man anymore." The villain looks surprised at you knowing that name, although you can't tell if he's impressed or angry. "Just call me Dabi, dollface."

"If all you wanted was revenge, then why your brother? He suffered too," you fail to choke back a sob. The pain of knowing that someone went through so much only to end up like this pushes you into more despair than you thought possible.

Dabi simply shrugs his shoulders. "I already killed dear old dad when this began. It wasn't enough."

This is news to you. Although you never personally cared for Endeavor, the fact of the matter is that he was the number two, and then the number one hero. His loss would be a massive blow to whatever surviving hero community was left. "What about the others then? The other heroes, what happened to them?"

"Your little group really was ignorant, weren't you? Don't you know the truth? You have to suspect it, at least."

You lose your patience and snap at him. "How the fuck would I know what happened to the hero community? I wasn't there!"

"Well then, I'll let you in on a little secret, doll." He leans in towards you as if whispering a juicy secret. "There IS no hero community left. That damned hand freak won."

Pure chaos swirls through your brain. All along, your little group hoped to one day reclaim the city. Reclaim hero society, build it back up to be even better. But maybe it still wasn't all for nothing, perhaps if a hero had taken Shigaraki out, things could still be okay.

You stare closely at his face as you ask the next question. "And Shigaraki?"

"If you're asking how he's doing, then I can tell you he's doing just fine. Alive and well in his little den of filth within the city." He cracks up, laughing at the look on your face.

Everything was hopeless. Everything and everyone you loved, dead and gone. The villains won, Shigarkai was alive, and Shouto was lying dead at your feet. Bakugou was probably dead as well, and you can't muster up the courage to ask the truth.

You cover your ears with your hands as you rock back and forth, trying to ward off all of the information coming at you. But Dabi takes your hands into his as he pulls you into his lap. "Shh, shhh," he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "You still have me, now don't you doll?"

You whimper as you curl your face into his chest, trembling with unshed tears that no longer want to come. "Yes, I do." As sick and fucked up as it is, it's not a lie. He truly is all you have left.

"And you want to stay with me, don't you?" He whispers his poisonous words directly into your ear, all the while rubbing comforting circles along your back as he holds you like a child.

"I do want to stay with you, Dabi." Another horrifying truth.

"Such a good girl." He kisses along your face and forehead, cooing at you in such a mocking way that it makes you feel sick to your stomach. "My good little girl, aren't you?"

You give an empty nod at his words. This is fine, you think. You'll be fine. It's better than wandering the wastelands alone, better to have someone to talk to. No matter what he wants you to do, no matter what you end up becoming at his side. It's still better than being alone. And as one last tear falls down your face, you cuddle up into his arms, close your eyes and pretend you believe it.

~~~~

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#dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere bnha #yandere dabi #tw: dubcon #tw: coercion #tw: yandere #bnharem collab

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

Text

A Twist of Fate

doing this thing | day 13 - poison

After so many years together, Geralt and Jaskier have developed a system of sorts for large gatherings. Jaskier loves being surrounded by people, loves the food and drink and song and will gladly spend hours upon hours dancing with whichever lord or lady catches his eye. Geralt is very much the opposite. The only reason he attends is either to keep an eye on Jaskier or to support him if he's performing. Otherwise, he'd rather be in the forest sharpening his swords or something.

As such, they've developed a signal for when Geralt has reached his limit of entertainment; he'll catch Jaskier's eye over the crowd - not difficult to do when Jaskier always has one eye on him anyway - and nod toward the door with his head. It's a statement as much as it is a question. I'm heading upstairs but also are you coming? Most nights Jaskier will remain for a while, enjoying the energy of whatever party they're attending, but on rare occasions, he'll turn in early.

Tonight it's the latter. He's finished his set and the main event is over - the engagement announcement of an old friend - and Geralt is looking quite spectacular tonight if he does say so himself. It’s an important event for Jaskier, so Geralt had let him pick out his outfit and had only complained once. Which, to be fair, was about the tightness of the sleeves around his arms. Next time, they'll just go to Elihal and have something made for him. But either way, he looks stunning tonight in black and gold and Jaskier is overflowing with pride that he's the one who gets to leave with him. Even if it doesn't lead to anything more than getting to sleep by his side.

So when Geralt rises from his seat, Jaskier is already prepared to leave. Being alone in their room is certain to prove frustrating because even surrounded by old friends, Jaskier can't keep his eyes off of him. Geralt nods and Jaskier smiles and mimics the gesture, earning him a soft smile from Geralt that makes his stomach flip. He bids a quick goodnight to the group he's talking to and quickly slips through the crowd to say a final congratulations to his friend before sneaking away.

There's a table of drinks to one side of the room and he grabs one on his way out; he'll certainly need the encouragement. He quickly downs the drink, setting the cup back down on the table before making his way through the halls.

He's barely left the hall when his head starts to feel strange, but he puts it down to the liquor being stronger than expected and continues on. But by the time he reaches their room, he's sweating. Heat prickles at his skin and there's an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest that he can't quite place. In a terrifying moment of realization, he wonders if he's been poisoned because something is certainly not right here. He's had his share of drunken nights and no matter how much he's had to drink, he's never felt like this. Even as he turns the handle and pushes into the room, his body continues rapidly heating up and he knows from experience that that is never good.

But when the door swings open, the rest of his body becomes a background thought as his cock twitches in his trousers. He must be gawking because Geralt lifts an eyebrow at him skeptically but Jaskier hardly registers it. Geralt is standing in the room, clearly in the process of getting undressed. His fingers linger on the buttons of his doublet which is open, baring his barely covered chest to the world. Despite his brain ceasing to function, Jaskier thinks this might be why Geralt so often calls him promiscuous. He does look quite lewd like this and oh the things that does to him.

Arousal burns through him and Jaskier swallows hard in an attempt to tamp it down, to no avail. If anything the swell of need increases, which is... not normal. Jaskier has spent half his life forcing down his attraction to the Witcher, so much so that he'd call himself an expert at denying himself. But tonight, his body has different ideas.

Geralt's eyes flick downward then back up, skeptical.

"You didn't have to come up with me," he says, "if you wanted to find a partner for the night, I wouldn't have minded."

Jaskier frowns in confusion. He learned the hard way long ago that Geralt can smell many things, his arousal being one of them, but this is not an uncommon occurrence. He shifts his stance and- oh, when did that happen? His cock is hard, pressing uncomfortably against the front of his trousers now that he's aware of it. That is... not the worst thing that's happened to him in Geralt's company, but the fact that he didn't notice worries him a little.

"Oh, er, I- I didn't."

"Jaskier," Geralt says slowly, taking a step toward him. "Are you alright?"

"Well actually, now that you-" Geralt steps into his space and Jaskier's skin prickles all over. "No, I don't think so."

"Your pupils are dilated," he mutters and Jaskier just shifts uncomfortably. This close, he can feel the heat radiating from Geralt's body and his body burns with the need to touch, to get his hands under that shirt and just touch him. "How do you feel?"

"Hot."

Geralt presses a hand to his forehead and Jaskier groans as a wave of pleasure washes over him. That is definitely not normal. His body is incredibly sensitive in a lot of places, but his forehead is not one of them.

"Oh," he breathes and he presses forward into the touch. "That feels incredible." Geralt's frown deepens but Jaskier finds it hard to be concerned when Geralt's fingers slip down to tip his chin up. He shuts his eyes and hums.

"Did you take a drink from anyone?" Geralt asks and the words almost go unnoticed as Jaskier is overcome with another surge of arousal. "Jaskier," Geralt growls, pushing firmly with both hands on his shoulders, "focus." Jaskier looks up at him and his mouth goes dry.

Geralt's face is pinched in concern but it's hard to worry about that because with his hair tied back like that and that doublet he looks so fucking sexy. He always does, but seeing him like this makes Jaskier's stomach drop in the most delightful way.

"Hmm?" he asks and Geralt sighs.

"Drinks, Jaskier. Did you take a drink from anyone you don't know."

"No, I'm not stupid, Geralt." He leans in, pressing his hands to Geralt's chest without thinking and oh- Gods, he could touch him all day and never tire of it, but- "I did grab a drink from the table," he hums and Geralt takes his hands, gently removing them from his chest, much to Jaskier's displeasure.

"Fuck."

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't drink so much but sometimes it's hard." He curls his fingers around Geralt's, stroking his hands. "I just want to touch you all the time and it's so hard not to."

"Jaskier I think you drank a love potion."

He freezes at that. "So I haven't been poisoned?" he asks cautiously.

"Unlikely," Geralt confirms, quickly detangling their fingers and pulling away, "but this could be much worse."

"How?" He's already reaching for Geralt again, desperate for the smallest touch, but Geralt steps away, crosses to lean against the wall at the other side of the room.

"Love potions vary depending on their intended purpose," he says and Jaskier climbs up on the bed where he can be closer. He flops down on his stomach and his cock slips against the inside of his trousers, pulling a soft moan from him as he tries to get comfortable. Geralt clears his throat and continues.

"Some twist other emotions to make someone fall in love - usually with a designated person. Some just enhance already existing feelings. Those ones can go very wrong very quickly if you ingest too much or if the formula isn't correct. Some of them create a false sense of love for as long as the potion remains in your system."

"For how long?"

"It depends on your metabolism. For me? Much shorter than for you. Some of them aren't love potions at all but are still classified as such. Probably because it's more acceptable to make love potions than sexual enhancers."

"And those ones?" Jaskier asks weakly, resisting the urge to rock his hips against the mattress.

"Make you desperate," Geralt says blandly, which seems cruel when Jaskier's whole body feels like it's about to combust.

"Which do you think this is?" he asks, but he suspects he knows the answer already considering it's taking every ounce of his control not to reach out and pull Geralt onto the bed with him.

"Tell me how you feel."

"Like I'm burning up from the inside out. Like I'm losing control."

"Hot?"

"Very."

"And still aroused," Geralt comments. Jaskier just presses his face into the covers and groans. "Is it constant?"

"No," Jaskier mumbles, "it uh, feels better when you touch me."

"Hmm."

"What does that mean?" Jaskier looks to see Geralt uncrossing his arms and coming toward him. His pulse spikes and it feels like his heart is in his throat.

"Like this?" Geralt asks, pressing a hand to his shoulder. Another place Jaskier isn't particularly sensitive, but the simple touch makes him ache and he groans as his hips press forward instinctively. "Does it feel like it's getting any worse?" Jaskier pulls himself up, crossing his legs under him as Geralt pulls away.

"Not really."

"It will."

"What?" Jaskier squawks. It's the first time he's felt anything but overwhelming need since he came up to the room, but the fear of more isn't better.

"Don't worry," Geralt says gently, "I'll be here."

"That's... actually not comforting, Geralt. What does that mean?"

"You're going to get far more desperate before it gets better, you'll need touch and I'm not going to just sit here and watch you suffer." Jaskier's breath catches and he can't believe Geralt is saying this to him.

"Do you mean you'll-"

"Just be glad it wasn't intended for you or I wouldn't be able to help. I'd have to take you to Yen or you'd have to fuck the idiot who did this to you to ease the discomfort."

"I'm not sure it was done to me, per se. I am glad it's not poison though."

"You won't be saying that in a few minutes."

Geralt is right, unfortunately, and after barely five minutes, Jaskier can barely stand the way his skin prickles with the need to be touched. He's hot all over, sweating through his clothes, but taking off his doublet does nothing but apparently make him more sensitive to the fabric of his shirt against his skin. He whimpers as it brushes against a nipple and arches off the bed.

He's propped up on the pillows and it's taking all of his self-control not to roll over and rut against the bed. Even the thought of it makes his cock throb in its confinement and he very nearly shoves a hand down his trousers to ease the need. A sound catches his attention at the last moment and he looks up to find Geralt, divested of his doublet and tugging his shirt out of his trousers.

Jaskier's eyes catch the thin strip of skin above his waistband and he moans out loud as the shirt lifts, giving way to a vast expanse of skin practically begging Jaskier to touch it. Geralt tugs his boots off and climbs up onto the end of the bed, crawling up and pushes Jaskier's ankles apart to kneel between them.

"Geralt," Jaskier chokes, shaking his head.

He can't get the words out, but Geralt can't do this, he doesn't understand what it means to him. Suddenly the ache doesn't feel so bad and he's sure if he went off somewhere for a little while, he could work through it on his own. How long could it take for the potion to work through his system, anyway?

"Shh," Geralt whispers, leaning forward on his hands.

He's too close now and Jaskier has to shut his eyes because feeling him so close is already hard enough. His fingers twitch against the bed and he wants to touch, even to slip his fingers around Geralt's, but he knows he can't.

"You can't-"

"Jaskier," Geralt breathes, much closer than he was a moment ago, "I wouldn't do this for just anyone." Whatever protest he had prepared dies on his tongue and Jaskier chokes out a moan instead as Geralt's palm slides up his hip. "I can find someone else if it's easier for you-"

"No," Jaskier says a little too quickly. "No, please, I want you. Only you."

"You don't mean that," Geralt breathes, nosing at his neck. The second his lips touch skin, Jaskier moans softly.

Tentatively, he wraps his arms around Geralt's shoulders, careful not to be too quick, too needy. He fails miserably, but Geralt doesn't seem to mind as Jaskier's fingers dig into his skin or the way he whines with every little shift of Geralt's mouth against him. Geralt's lips press against his neck, slowly moving up as Jaskier tips his head back and with a sigh.

It does nothing to ease the burning in his skin, but it feeds another need, one much older and grounded than the lust that sears through his veins now. It's a welcome diversion but the insistence returns quickly and Jaskier finds himself squirming to get free.

He wants to get Geralt out of the rest of his clothes, to press against him with nothing between them, indulge in every secret fantasy he's had over the last two decades - but he doesn't get a chance. Before he can move, Geralt's mouth finds his own and any thoughts are chased away by the softness of his lips.

Jaskier's hands slip into his hair and he tugs Geralt closer, biting at his bottom lip and moaning against him. Surprisingly, Geralt doesn't withdraw, he presses closer, fitting himself between Jaskier's legs. He pushes under his thighs, folding Jaskier's up and rocking against him.

"Geralt," he moans, "oh fuck."

Jaskier wraps his legs around him and rolls his hips, rutting shamelessly against Geralt's hip. Geralt is hard against him, and Jaskier has never felt anything so incredible in his whole life. In some way, Geralt wants this too, even if it's just for the sex. He reaches down, squeezing Geralt's ass and pressing him down against him. Geralt is surprisingly welcoming, but it only lasts a moment before he's pulling away, rising up to his knees again.

Jaskier keeps his legs around him, but he reaches up, running his palms up Geralt's chest as he rocks under him. Geralt pushes his shirt up and Jaskier shudders at the first touch of his fingers against his bare skin. He arches off the bed at the faintest nudge letting Geralt push his shirt up over his head

Geralt's hands are rough but gentle, sliding back to his hips and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, dreading the moment he eventually wakes. Because this can't be real, can it? Even if he is helping him, Geralt couldn't possibly want this from him? With him? Surely after all this time- His thoughts are abruptly interrupted by Geralt's mouth on his own and dexterous fingers working open his trousers.

Geralt draws away, just as one of his hands snakes into Jaskier's trousers, wrapping around him and stroking gently.

"Stop thinking so much," he breathes, "don't worry, I want this." He rocks his hips forward as if to prove his point and Jaskier groans.

Geralt spares a moment, leaning over to brush a hand down the side of Jaskier's face. It's soft and intimate in comparison to the raging heat and want inside him and Jaskier melts under it, sinking back into the bed as his hips press up. A hand slides under them, holding him off the bed and Geralt holds him like that, bending down to kiss his chest. His mouth is somehow still warm against Jaskier's skin and it feels good despite him already being overheated. He craves the heat and Geralt drops him back against the bed, bending lower to kiss his way down to Jaskier's waistband.

He takes his time licking at sucking every inch of exposed skin, tugging Jaskier's trousers out of the way when he runs out of room. When Geralt's tongue meets the vee of his hip, Jaskier squirms, grasping blindly for Geralt's head. He winds his fingers through his hair, whimpering at the intensity of it. This is a sensitive spot for him, but he can't help wondering if it's just the potion that brings about this heightened sensation or if it's Geralt. Either way, his cock aches with every new touch, hips twitching up, seeking more.

Geralt mumbles against his skin and Jaskier has no idea what he's saying, but suddenly it no longer matters because Geralt's fingers wrap around the waistband of his trousers, tugging them down without hesitation. Jaskier shuffles as Geralt sits back up, moving to help the removal of his clothes.

His eyes are shut, but he hears the sharp inhale and then a pause as Geralt gets him naked, tossing his clothes to one side. Normally, Jaskier might be inclined to go and gather them up and fold them nicely, but when he opens his eyes, Geralt is watching him with intense concentration. His eyes are dark, pupils wide with barely a rim of gold around them and Jaskier doesn't think he has ever looked so sexy. He moves reflexively, wrapping his arms around Geralt's neck and hauling him down and kissing him hard. He gets a soft laugh in return and when Geralt draws away again he presses his face into Jaskier's neck.

"You can't be feeling too badly," he hums, but Jaskier groans at him.

"You make it better," he breathes, "it doesn't feel so... overwhelming."

"It's not me," Geralt mumbles, "that's just how it works. If you give in to it, the desperation eases."

"That's not what I said. I said you make it better, not that I wanted this less." Geralt's laugh tickles his neck and Jaskier twists his fingers into his hair again, pressing his hips against him.

Geralt's trousers are rough against his cock, but it feels good and Geralt is surprisingly responsive, meeting every thrust with his own. It's hardly fair that Jaskier is undressed and Geralt is not. He loosens one hand from Geralt's hair, sliding his palm down Geralt's chest.

He wants to keep touching him, to just run his hands over Geralt's entire body, but he doesn't have the patience right now. A small part of him is regretful that he may never get the chance, but his body protests the delay. Finally, he gets his hand on Geralt's hip, shoving his trousers down just far enough to free his cock and get a hand around him.

Geralt groans at the touch, shuffling forward to press his cock against his hand and he nips at Jaskier's neck. He works over the same spot and Jaskier shudders. He aches. He wants. He struggles to wrap his hand all the way around him and the thought of having that cock inside him makes him lightheaded.

"Geralt," he pants, "please, I want you. Please."

Geralt barely moves, slipping a little further down his neck. He continues nipping at the skin, sucking at it, leaving soft kisses over each mark before moving further down. His tongue leaves wet spots in its wake, cooling against Jaskier's skin in the evening air, a harsh juxtaposition to the heat still simmering under his skin.

By the time Geralt reaches his hips again, Jaskier's mind is foggy with need and his cock leaks steadily against his hip. Just as he's about to sit up, wet heat engulfs the head of his cock and Geralt's tongue slips over the head tasting him and he sucks hard as he pulls off again. Geralt looks up at him and Jaskier barely lifts his head off the pillow to see him, dropping it back with a groan.

"You're a damned tease, Geralt of Rivia. I fear I shall grow old and die before you fuck me."

Geralt dips to kiss his hip once more, laughing softly against his skin before rising up and climbing off the bed. He strips out of his trousers and Jaskier leans up on one elbow to watch. Geralt is magnificent and Jaskier only wishes something other than mistakenly drinking a love potion would have gotten him into his bed. The thought doesn't linger though as heat creeps back up into him, prickling at his skin now that Geralt is no longer touching him.

He wraps a hand around himself to try and ease the ache, stroking himself slowly and squeezing around the head of his cock. It feels good but does nothing to quell the urgency.

But Geralt returns, kneeling on the bed and sitting back on his heels. His cock just proudly from his body and Jaskier can't help but stare at the way it curves back up enticingly. He wants to get his mouth around him, but more than that he wants to climb into Geralt's lap and sit on him, wants to fuck himself on that incredible cock.

There's the sound of a cork popping and Jaskier looks up to find Geralt spilling something over his fingers. He doesn't have to ask what it is because a second later his legs are being nudged apart and Geralt shifts, reaching back behind his balls and slipping against his hole. Jaskier's eyes drop shut involuntarily and he groans, spreading his legs further to give Geralt better access. A wave of pleasure rolls through him and he tightens his grip on his cock, stroking a little slower.

When Geralt first presses into him, he thinks he might implode. But Geralt keeps going, pushing deeper inside him, first with one finger, then two, and he stretches him, thrusts into him until Jaskier can barely breathe - though miraculously his body remains intact. He doesn't realize he's even speaking until Geralt crawls up over him and covers his mouth with his own to quiet him. Jaskier lets himself sink into it, moaning into his mouth and pushing his fingers through his hair.

Geralt's fingers slip from his body and Jaskier groans at the loss, but he's not wanting for long. As Geralt shifts above him, he aligns himself, nudging against Jaskier's hole with the head of his cock. Jaskier holds his breath as Geralt pushes forward, but he wraps a soothing hand around the side of Jaskier's neck, soothing him.

"Breathe," he whispers, "relax, Jask." He rubs his thumb just under his jaw and Jaskier exhales slowly, blinking up at him. "Better?" Geralt asks and Jaskier hums, rolling his hips into him. He slides deeper and Jaskier moans softly, pressing his nose into Geralt's cheek.

"Please," he whispers, "I need you. Please, darling." Geralt tips his head back with just his thumb, nuzzling against his neck and pressing his lips to his skin.

He says nothing, but he moans softly as he pushes deeper and Jaskier whimpers at the stretch but he pushes back against him. As Geralt settles deep inside him, Jaskier shifts his hips, adjusting before rocking onto him again with force. Geralt is by far the biggest cock he's ever taken, but Jaskier revels in the stretch, in the intense feeling of fullness.

Geralt fucks him slowly at first, picking up speed as Jaskier wraps around him. He's quick and hard and Jaskier is overwhelmed at just how good he is, always knowing exactly where to touch him, where to kiss him. And when he shifts his hips just so, Jaskier sees stars,

He whimpers, arching off the bed and rolling his head back and the pleasure rushes through him, threatening to overwhelm him. He finds himself wondering again if it's just the potion or if Geralt is just a fantastic fuck. He finds it doesn't really matter as Geralt's hips snap again and he finds himself sinking back into the bed, eyes dropping shut in pleasure.

It's not long before he's shaking, his legs twitching around Geralt's hips. He's close, so close he can practically feel it already and he can hear Geralt's arousal in every huff of breath against his ear, ever little grunt and groan as he brings him closer and closer to the edge.

"Jaskier," he huffs, burying his face in Jaskier's neck, "fuck."

"Yeah," Jaskier agrees. He pushes Geralt's head back up, biting his lip and moaning against him.

When he comes, it's with his nose pressed against Geralt's, panting so hard he can barely think straight. Geralt buries himself deep, keeping his thrusts hard and shallow and Jaskier cups the back of his head, whispering to him.

"Come on darling. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Fuck, you feel good."

"That's right," Jaskier runs his fingers through his hair, taking advantage of the few moments he has left with Geralt like this. He slips his hands down his back, rolling Geralt's hips forward even as he thrust stutter and falter.

He kisses Jaskier as he comes, shoving an arm under him and pulling him close. They fit together well, Jaskier thinks, but as Geralt comes down from the high, he rolls to the side, hauling Jaskier up against him.

"Feel better?" he asks, pressing his nose into Jaskier's hair.

"Very much. Thank you."

"Any time," Geralt hums shutting his eyes with a soft smile. Jaskier lets himself be pulled into a warm embrace, rolling so he's facing Geralt. “You’re sure you feel okay?”

"Really?" he asks and he thinks he's pushing his luck but Geralt just presses a kiss into his hair.

"Hopefully next time you won't have to be poisoned first."

Jaskier pulls back to look at him, pressing a hand to his chest. "Darling, if I knew it was this easy to get you into bed I wouldn't have been downstairs long enough to drink the damn thing."

Geralt leans forward, catching his lips in a slow, passionate kiss. "I'll remember that next time."

#this is... not poison at all #so sorry #geraskier #rex writes #october prompts 2k20

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delta-roseblr · 3 years

Note

Hi sweetie! I want to ask for a prompt about Cecil and Lou Ellen talking about the cute guy that he met. Thank you!

What? It's like three years later but I didn't forget!

Enjoy!

Cecil had just collapsed in his bunk, ready to sleep the day away in hopes of shaking the lingering effects of shadow travel. The sounds of quick footsteps entered the cabin. The Hermes cabin was a busy place being one of the largest cabins, so noise wasn't anything Cecil wasn't used to sleeping through. Even though it was the middle of the day, it wasn't uncommon for one of his siblings to come or go, so Cecil didn't even think anything of it until someone dropped next to him on his bunk.

He groaned in hopes that would be enough to get the person away. It wasn't a long shot, so he wasn't surprised when the person chuckled, patted his back, and didn't leave, but he was a little disappointed.

"So, how was Tennessee?" Lou Ellen asked, apparently ignoring the fact that Cecil was trying to sleep. That was pretty on-brand for Lou, and considering she was Cecil's best friend, he couldn't complain, although, at the moment, he wanted to. "What's Will's mom like?" She continued in that rapid-fire way that she had mastered over the years, "Were Will and Nico just making out the entire time? Did you see Felix and Dean? Were Felix and Dean making out the whole time too?"

Cecil didn't move, but he did crack open one eye to look up at his friend. "Lou, that was a lot of questions without breathing," he pointed out without enthusiasm, "How are you not out of breath?”

"Years of practice," Lou replied with a shrug. "Are you going to answer?"

Cecil was still a little woozy from Nico's shadow traveling him back to camp and tired from the whole trip, and he considered telling her no he wasn’t going to answer. He considered telling her he didn’t want to talk right that second because, in general, it wasn't the safest idea to tell a daughter of Hecate no. The chance that Lou would have accepted that answer and let him sleep was slim, and Cecil wasn't THAT tired.

"Which question?" he asked in a somewhat exaggerated grumbly voice to get across the point that he had been trying to sleep.

"Don't be difficult, Cecil!" Lou Ellen huffed, "How was your trip?"

That was a loaded question, not that Lou would know that. Still, Cecil couldn't help but smile a little to himself as he thought about it. "It was kind of great," he admitted, his voice still half muffled from his cheek being pressed against his bunk.

There was a short pause. That was an uncommon thing for Lou Ellen and a clear indication that he had managed to take her by surprise. "Great?" she asked uncertainly.

"Um, yeah," Cecil replied. Lou Ellen's uncertainty was catching because Cecil found himself wondering if that was the proper adjective. The uncertainty lasted only a few seconds before the memories assured Cecil that it was pretty great. He lifted his head a little and actually met Lou's gaze. "Why?"

"Not the adjective I was expecting," She admitted with a shrug, "I mean, I love Will and everything…."

She left the rest of the sentence to go unsaid, but Cecil got it. Will was genuinely fucking awesome, but he was a total fixer. It came from being in the infirmary all the time, literally fixing people. If you came to Will with a problem or just some heavy thoughts, he wanted to fix it for you. That wasn't a bad thing. Actually, it was awesome a lot of the time, but sometimes you weren't looking for things to be fixed or getting a pep talk, and then Will didn't know what to do with himself. Traveling with Will and Nico also came with the extra fun of being with the cutest, most in love gay couple on the planet. Good for them and all, but when you're currently trying to deal with your own feeling about being gay and work your way out of the closet, that can bring on some feelings.

"It was just nice to get away from camp," he explained. Being a year-round camper, Cecil didn't get to leave camp often, and even when he did (and it wasn't for a battle), it was just day trips to the city. "And Will's mom is a really good cook," he continued honestly. It wasn't the same as the food the nymphs put together at camp but still just as good, and she was always checking in to make sure that everyone had enough food. Her maternal energy was just soothing.

Cecil gave up on sleep, at least for the moment, and turned over to fully look at Lou Ellen because she wasn't going anywhere. "Felix said hi," he informed. It was sort of a perfect statement because it was true, and Lou would get a kick out of it and because it could get her on to another topic. He was sure something happened around camp that she wanted to talk about since he was gone.

"That's nice," Lou Ellen commented without the enthusiasm that Cecil had been expecting. Worse yet, after that, she fell silent, and her expression turned more and more suspicious with each passing second.

A sense of pressure increased with each passing second of silence, and it didn't take Cecil long before he hit the point where he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a nervous laugh despite himself and asked, "What?"

"Did you hook up with someone?" She asked as she continued to stare at him like she was trying to read his mind.

Cecil would freely admit that Lou Ellen knew him better than just about anyone but even he didn't know how she had gotten so close to the truth of the thing. She wasn't dead on because he hadn't actually hooked up with anyone, just a kiss - a truly life-changing, amazing kiss, but she was so close. Cecil honestly didn't know what he had said or done to give it away.

Usually, he would jokingly accuse Lou Ellen of reading his mind, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to do that. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk about it. In some sense, he absolutely did. A hot guy kissed him; why wouldn't he want to talk about that? But on the other hand, he was still sort of unpacking his feelings about getting kissed by a guy he probably would never see again. Sure, Cecil gave Kyle his number (because Lou Ellen had made him take a phone), but that didn't mean he would call or text him.

Okay, technically, Kyle had already texted him a few times before Cecil left Tennessee, but that still didn't mean anything.

Cecil sat up completely before attempting to counter with something resembling a denial. "What?" he asked, trying to sound surprised and a little confused rather than nervous. He wasn't sure if he was successful at that, which considering he was dealing with Lou Ellen didn't bode particularly well for him, but he didn't see a better option than committing to the plan. "Why would you even think that?"

Lou Ellen still managed to look suspicious even as she arched a dismissive eyebrow at him. "Because your trip was great," she explained with a level of finality that seemed misplaced considering.

"That seems thin," Cecil pointed out.

Lou Ellen huffed with annoyance and rolled her eyes hard enough. If she were anyone else, Cecil would have been sure she had hurt herself. "Cecil, I figured out you were gay before you did," she reminded, "I know you better than you know yourself."

Cecil loved Lou Ellen, he did, and weirdly he appreciated that she forced him to face his sexuality even if it had been hard at the time, but he wished she wouldn't bring it up so much. It always brought him back to a weird place. He probably could have just said that to Lou Ellen, but it was always hard to tell how she would take things. At times she would accept it at face value and never bring it up again, and at other times she would make it a big fucking deal. He would rather avoid the latter if he could.

"When are we going to get past that?" he questioned as casually as he could manage.

Luckily or maybe not (it did depend on how you looked at it), Lou Ellen remained focused on the information she was trying to extract from Cecil. "Just accept it," She dismissed with a simple wave of her hand, "Now spill, because I want details."

"Lou," Cecil protested but came out sounding a little like a whine.

"Cecil," Lou declared, sounding very much like a parent preparing to reprimand a naughty child, "I will beat them out of you if I need to."

Cecil accepted his fate with a loud huff and a roll of his eyes. "I didn't hook up with anyone," he corrected before adding, "But I did sort of meet someone."

"Oh, my gods!" Lou Ellen exclaimed before clapping and jumping a little where she sat as a show of excitement, "Details, Cecil!"

Cecil could feel the heat creeping up his neck and toward his face. He knew in a matter of seconds his face would be bright red. "Lou, there isn't much to tell," he muttered bashfully. There wasn't much to tell, so he wasn't lying exactly, but it had felt like something as nothing as it was. It had forced him to come out to Will, so that was something. Lou would make it into so much more, and she would have so many questions that Cecil hadn't even thought of and definitely would not have answers to.

Lou Ellen let out one of her long, overly dramatic sighs. "I'm assuming this someone has a name," she pointed out with one of her looks, "And you met him somewhere."

Okay, so yes, Cecil didn't want to answer big philosophical questions about his sexuality and sexual attraction, but at the same time, there was part of him that did want to talk about it because he met a boy. Not just a boy, but a hot boy who had seemed interested in him.

Even though he knew it was a trap of sorts, Cecil couldn't resist the urge to gush at least a little. "Oh, his name is Kyle," he answered. He couldn't help but smile just saying the name. It reminded Cecil of Kyle, and Kyle was something worth smiling about. "I met him at a gay bar."

"You WENT to a gay bar!?!" Lou Ellen exclaimed with complete and utter outrage.

"Oh, ya yeah," Cecil admitted. He probably should have figured Lou would be bothered by that. Not that they went but that she wasn't there to join them. He and Will were probably going to pay for that slip at some point, but he could do nothing about that now. "Will and Nico went because Dean and Felix were going, I think," he offered as an explanation.

"So, all of my gays went to a gay bar without me," Lou Ellen summarized with clear displeasure, "I'm a little hurt, can't lie."

Cecil was careful not to be too obvious about rolling his eyes as he apologized without any real sincerity, "Sorry." Lou Ellen made too big of a deal about things sometimes. It didn't come from a bad place, so he didn't see the point of calling her out on it. Still, it wasn't like he or Will ever made such a big deal about Lou being bisexual.

"No," Lou Ellen dismissed, apparently either unaware or ignoring the fact that his apology was anything but genuine. "If you met someone, it's fine," She assured before turning to look at Cecil with that excited glint back in her eyes, "So did your eyes meet over the dance floor or what?"

That is exactly how Cecil had imagined that sort of thing in the past, but remembering the actual guy bar they had gone to, the thought made him cringe a little. "Um, no," he answered instead of explaining that most of the guys at the bar were way too old for him. "He came with Dean and Felix," he explained, "I think he is a friend of Felix from school."

"Why am I not surprised?" Lou Ellen declared with a chuckle, "Felix is like the ultimate wingman!"

Cecil didn't really get why Lou Ellen got along so well with Felix. He was pretty sweet to Dean, but with everyone else, he could be a little abrasive. He could understand why Will hadn't gotten along with him more, but Cecil might have been biased because of what had happened. "Yeah, Felix sort of yelled at me," he told Lou Ellen. He didn't know why he was lightening the blow because there wasn't much question on if Felix yelled at him or not. He definitely yelled and cussed a fair amount. "I don't think he was cool with a demigod potentially flirting with his friend."

Lou Ellen's eyebrows furrowed momentarily, and Cecil wasn't sure if it was from concern or confusion. He didn't have much time to figure it out before it was just gone and replaced with an expression much more familiar coming from Lou Ellen, unwavering confidence. "What does Felix know? Don't worry about that," She dismissed with a wave of her hand. Cecil doubted even she would have been so confident if she had heard Felix's angry tirade. He might not have been a demigod, but Felix had Cecil hesitate for his safety.

Cecil thought about saying as much to Lou Ellen, but she didn't really give him a chance. "So, you were flirting?" Lou questioned with excitement in her voice as she bounced excitedly where she sat.

If Cecil's cheeks weren't burning before, they definitely were hearing that question. "I don't know," he muttered with a sheepish shrug. Part of him didn't want to say it because it felt like an almost private thing, but part of him honestly wasn't sure. He had never really been good at flirting, at least not the times he cared to try. He just got nervous and sort of bumbled the whole thing. Kyle was cute, and he had made Cecil nervous. Cecil had wanted to flirt, and he had thought he kind of was, but without the usual bumbling, he couldn't be sure. Maybe he had been doing it wrong. "Maybe."

"Okay," Lou Ellen dragged out the word before letting out a little annoyed puff of air. "I love you, but you are by far the most frustrating person ever," she declared as she shook her head in disappointment.

"What? What did I say?" Cecil questioned with genuine confusion.

"Nothing," Lou Ellen dismissed, although she still sounded somewhat disappointed. "Let's backtrack a little," she declared, "What's the guy's name?"

As much as he tried, Cecil couldn't help but smile as he uttered the name, "Kyle."

"M’kay," Lou Ellen nodded and smiled. Apparently, Cecil was back on the track Lou Ellen wanted him to be on. "And what does he look like, and if you want to objectify him a little by rating his general hotness, I will support you."

Cecil's stomach did a little flip just at the thought. Kyle was so good-looking, and Cecil could probably go on for days talking about just how hot he was, but that was sort of embarrassing. Or at least he felt a little awkward about it. Maybe it would be better to stick to the facts and not wax poetic. "Um…well, he's….um, average height, has dark red hair, and green eyes," he began.

"And did he rob your convenient store?" Lou Ellen interrupted with the tone of an absolutely exasperated woman. "Gods, Cecil! I'm not drawing a wanted poster here, you can talk with a little enthusiasm!"

Cecil could have been more enthusiastic if he talked to anyone else, but with Lou Ellen, it just felt a little weird. They had dated, and sure they had both agreed to break up and all of that, but it still made Cecil feel weird about some things at times. He couldn't gush about how hot Kyle was with her. He just wasn't there yet. "He used to play football, so he's…..um….in really good shape," Cecil explained.

"Oh, my gods, he's a beefcake!" Lou Ellen explained before reaching out and slapping him lightly on the arm, "I didn't realize that was your type!"

"I wouldn't say it's my type," Cecil muttered. His face was so hot he absolutely could not understand how he hadn't just exploded from it. Cecil had never thought he had a type, but Kyle definitely would have been it if he did. So maybe beefcakes were his thing.

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therandomfandomme · 3 years

Text

Mechs dance headcanons

I made a quiz about this, these are the answers. Mechs dancing has been living in my brain for weeks

1. Jonny does line and square dance

Texan Jonny stuff lives on my brain rent free, he mostly likes it because you need a few people to do it and it's pretty informal. He knows quite a few of folk dances from planets all around the galaxy, because he likes the social affair that comes with it wherein you don't need to put in a lot of effort to get to know people on a lowkey level. You can sometimes find him doing the steps through the halls, mumbling the instructions under his breath. He also knows moves from the showgirls in Jacks casino, but will rarely do those

2. Nastya does ballet

Instert "it means I know how to crush you with my feet" meme. Did she hate every ballet lesson ever? Yes. Is she grateful she can do it now? Also yes. It is great to do with Aurora, since she can provide music and the bars. It also gave her the balance that helped with her new heavy blood. She also likes tricking other mechs in dancing with her, only to laugh at them when they fail, some surprised her though (i have opinions about which ones, but I'll allow you to fill in your own mental picture)

3. Ashes does the waltz

I know this was one of the options on my very first quiz, but I love Ashes who does the waltz. They are a pro at leading and will gracefully sweep their partner across the room, no matter how many left feet they have. With Ashes is the only occasion TS can do the waltz, which delights it to no end

4. Ivy rhythmic gymnastics

Is this classified as dancing? Not sure. Ivy likes the ribbon and will use it as bookmark from time to time. She first read about it and then got really excited. She taught herself along with Nastya and it's something they still do together. With her training it makes it really easy for others to lift her, which she uses when dancing with someone else. Though she mostly likes that it can be done alone, it helps keep her mind off things

5. Brian does the tango

Tango is all about the beat and Brian is very good at that. He also likes how intimate it gets and how much you have to know the other to be fully in sync. He also likes to dip, twirl and lift people, which he is very good at with his metal body. It also isn't too unusual for a man to get lead, and Ashes often leads for him, which is always very fun

6. TS does one-step

This is leftover from the old lady, but it doesn't mind as much since it was created for social situations and it is the best dance for talking. During dancing the others are much more likely to be in a good mood and TS enjoys talking to them whenever they dance. It likes being dipped, but it also loves turning

7. Tim does tapdance

He likes stomping his feet, that was how he got into it in the first place. Now he mostly does it to irritate or delight fellow mechs. Some of their songs were born of Tims bored tapdancing. He also dances morsecode from time to time, but that's mostly when thinking about the moon war. He learned tap dancing with Bertie.

8. Marius does the quickstep

My boy saw people do fast steps and turns and was sold. He took lessons back home and prefected it through the ages. He mostly likes using his metal arm to practically throw his partner in the right direction when they're failing to keep up. It took a while for him to be able to dance properly with the new weight at his side, Brian was a huge help in getting him back in stepping shape

9. Raph does mating dances and air dances

She loves studying dances from animal life forms and tries to duplicate them. It is not uncommon for her to make weird movements and then tell you which animal seduces mates like that. Depending on the mood of the mech she is seducing, they will shoot her or copy her movements. She also likes sweeping people of their feet, literally, and dancing on air with them. If she is too excited it can be terrifying, but also very fun

#the mechanisms #the mechs #mechs headcanons #dancing #mechs dancing

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tartagilicious · 3 years

Text

[CN] Lucien’s Birthday Event R&S

💌 see Lucien’s birthday date, which this rumour and secrets is connected to, here!

💌 also, a huge thanks to @elainabearie for providing me with screenshots of the event, because my gems really said no <3

[event story:] It’s a warm and sunny afternoon. I looked at the heavy package in my hands and carefully opened it. Inside the three-layer packaging, there is a book that looks as if it’s been in use for several years.

MC: Great, it seems that there was nothing wrong with the transportation.

Xu Mo’s birthday is coming soon. I thought about it, and decided that I would give him a meaningful out-of-print book this year. After visiting the major bookstores in Loveland, it was quite easy for me to find even this out-of-print book. Unfortunately, however, due to the age, the condition and storage of the books was not very proper. When the book arrived in my hands, it was already a bit damaged.

So, in addition to the book itself, I also bought glue for repairing the pages of the book and thread for binding the cover. After patching it up, I plan to give it to Xu Mo. Because I worried I couldn’t patch up the book correctly, though, I also practiced on spare paper for a long time.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Today is the day of the real endeavour, but I just hope that my hands can keep up with my brain. I need to prepare the gift perfectly for him.

I slowly opened the spine of the book attentively. Just as I was about to begin cleaning up the pages, a loud beating sounded abruptly.

MC: Who would come at this time…

Hastily, I pack up the repair utensils on the table that I had just opened. A gentle and familiar voice then entered the room; the one that I was most familiar with.

Xu Mo: When you hadn’t opened the door for a while, I was worried that I’d knocked at a bad time.

Those deep black eyes looked at me with a smile. It’s softer than the setting sun in the late afternoon.

MC: It’s nothing, I’m here.

I spoke and turned my head halfway, ready to invite Xu Mo into the house. Halfway through the conversation, though, it suddenly occurred to me that the birthday surprise for him was still lying on the table.

MC: Well… you came to me so suddenly, is there something wrong?

I changed the subject, trying to block the doorway discreetly.

Xu Mo’s eyes turned a little playfully to my face and back to the living room. Obviously, it was the look of someone who knew I was hiding something, but he still followed me up with a reply.

Xu Mo: By chance, my company got two tickets for the exhibition. I thought it may help you accumulate program material, so I just wanted to invite this producer.

Xu Mo: But it seems you aren’t free today? The time of this exhibition is very long, but you can come to me whenever you’re free.

Not giving me time to answer, Xu Mo put one of the tickets in my hand. After I took it, he walked back towards his own home. Before entering, Xu Mo turned his head and looked at me again, smiled and added something.

Xu Mo: And also, although I don’t know what you’re doing, I wish you success.

Sitting back at the desk again, I looked at the book that needed to be repaired, and the sound of Xu Mo’s last words seemed to linger in my ears. If the book is fixed and given to him, he’ll still be happy with the result, right?

Bringing a gift of human affection will definitely reap a smile from his heart, right?

Thinking of ths, I continued the restoration work more carefully.

----

CHAPTER ONE:

“Hey, kid, tomorrow is a new day, let’s continue to compete!”

“I know, see you tomorrow brother Zihang.”

The boy waved his hand to the tall man politely, then turned around and sighed slightly. It’s not that he doesn’t want to compete with this foolish policeman who’s worried about chess, but this is after the 587th challenge statement he’s heard. Before he knew it, this time of waiting for his parents to return home after school gradually became his daily routine. Even if he had yet to find the vocabulary to define his mood, it makes school time unexpectedly brisk.

“Would you like to have potato roasted ribs tonight?”

“Sure.” The boy said as he put his changed shoes into the shoe cabinet properly. Carrying a small school bag, he turned around and walked towards the bookcase in the living room. Dad finally couldn’t help but stop him.

“Were you unhappy at school today?”

The boy turned around and shook his head suspiciously. He pursed his lips. For a while, he didn’t know why Dad wanted to do this, but soon, he found the answer. Maybe it was because he had heard the sigh just now.

“I’m happy. The teacher and classmates are very nice.” He paused. “Brother Zihang still can’t make any progress in chess. Obviously I’ve secretly given in.”

A warm touch covered the top of his head. Dad squatted down and gently rubbed the head of his little genius. The corners of his mouth had already lifted considerably, and he made no secret of it.

“Then it seems that you can only show him more openly next time!”

The boy blinked, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw his father joking so seriously.

Half an hour later, a familiar concerto sounded from the kitchen.

“It seems a bit salty, can you try it?”

“It’s not salty, but it does need to be processed. You put it here, I’ll do it.”

“Obviously it’s salty… you lied to me. But, I really followed the steps written above. Could it be the quality unit of the excipients?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” The man’s tone seems undoubtedly like a rigorous experiment report can be produced in the next second to verify it.

“You go with your son.” He said, deliberately lowering his voice. “It’s rare that we are at home. Don’t crowd the kitchen.”

The boy who hid by the doorway with his ear keenly adjusted reacted immediately. He hastily slipped back to the seat beside the dining table before Mom came out, and rearranged to read his book seriously.

For the boy, ordinary daily life like this is extremely precious. So, at the happy dinner, he hesitated for a long while. He had a problem that had been bothering him lately.

“Dad, what is the law of conservation of energy?” He raised his head to look at his father and added crossly. “I have worked with a teacher, but she said this question will be answered when i grow up… I don’t quite understand. Is the answer related to my age?”

“The law of conservation of energy. The change in the total energy of a system can only be equal to the amount of energy transferred into our out of the system. Energy is rather a measure of the movement of matter.”

“This is one of the most basic rules of this world.”

Dad said this as he put a piece of ribs into the boy’s bowl. The tone naturally seemed to be answering an ordinary question, but the boy stared at the ribs, and his pretty little face twisted together unconsciously.

“I think the teacher said that because she hopes you can find the answer yourself when you grow up. But she may not know you well. My son might find the answer soon.”

“Really?”

“Of course. When has Dad ever fooled you? So, eat first.” Dad beckoned and scratched the boy’s nose. He then picked up another piece of meat and put it in his wife’s bowl and started eating.

CHAPTER TWO:

The boy is always curious about the puzzles of the world. For example, why is the sky blue? What are the floating clouds? Why are people on the ground and why are fish in the water? He is interested in answering too many questions. The fields involved are quite different but have subtle similarities. These “secret questions” seem to be hard to get answers for all at once.

But, the boy never had a boring process in finding answers. He likes the moment very much. For example, now-- In the study, the boy was sitting on a small ladder, looking through a thick professional book. He tried to find out more about these “rules of the world” his father had spoken of.

But this question really is too difficult.

Looking at the complicated patterns and uncommon characters that keep jumping in his eyes, the boy lowered his head, somewhat discouraged. The sound of the minute hand ticking can be heard in the silent room. Moonlight sheds down the skylight, stars of light and shadow gathered around the boy’s feet.

Still, he should try to look for it again. He pouted while thinking like this, and exhaled as if to cheer himself up. He jumped off the ladder and then raised his head to look up at the giant bookshelf in front of him again. Slightly squinted eyes quickly lit up, and he pushed the little ladder under the shelf next to him.

Securing it carefully, he shook it cautiously to determine its stability. Then, he nodded contentedly, leaning on both sides of it to climb up blatantly level by level.

The study had always been his favourite place at home. Whether it was sitting on the ground and looking up at the densely packed bookshelves that were too tall for him, or like it was now, standing high and looking over the same silent room.

Here is his secret place where no one will bother him, and his treasure-trove for finding answers. It’s like his channel for getting to know the world. There seems to be an infinite amount of knowledge waiting for him here; waiting for him to walk in; waiting for his recognition.

“Found it!”

With excitement, the boy drew out a book of some ancient purpose from the depth of the shelf. Gently brushing the dust from the cover, he then blew carefully. It wafted up into his nose and he coughed a few times before he raised his little hand up to wave the dust in front of him away.

He climbed down the ladder holding the “treasure” he had finally found. He placed it carefully on the ground and bought a thick English-English dictionary from where he was just sitting. The boy took a deep breath, and when he was about to begin the big job, there was a slight creaking noise coming from the door before a gentle knock.

“Mom, can I read a bit longer? I finally found this book.” The boy glanced at the clock on the wall and looked at his mother aggrievedly. “One more hour will be fine.”

Mom didn’t speak,and beckoned to turn on the light in the study. Then, she took a few steps closer and bent down to spread a blanket out in his arms. The familiar temperature gently wraps him, and mom smiles and curls her long finger to hook with the boy’s little one.

“That’s a deal.”

“Ok!”

CHAPTER THREE:

In the middle of the night, the boy stared at the faintly fluorescent “Milky Way” on his ceiling, and did not sleep. He felt that his brain was traveling to outer space. After tossing for a long time, he fetched the secretly hidden book from under the pillow, and took a small flashlight from the deeper part before settling back under the quilt.

The beam of light instantly lit up the small space in the dark, and circled a quiet little world that belonged to no one but the little boy.

“Can Mom come in?”

The question sounded as if spanning time and space.

The boy embarrassedly emerged from the quilt, and sullenly responded. He put the closed book and flashlight on the bedside table obediently.

Should he take the initiative and admit his mistakes? After all, his parents have never allowed him to bring books into the bedroom, let alone peek at them and get caught doing so.

“Mom, I…”

“If you can’t fall asleep, Mom will continue to tell you the bedtime story that I didn’t finish last time.”

The boy finally summoned the courage and pursed his lips. He raised his head to meet his mother’s eyes somewhat inconceivably, doubt flashing in his black eyes.

“I’m almost 6 years old.”

“Aren’t you not there yet? Listen and see, maybe the story of your mother can let your disobedient brain cells find their way home.” Mom said, knocking his little head mysteriously.

“Okay..”

Although psychologically repelling his parents to regard him himself as a child, he honestly approached his mother’s open arms. The faint woody scent wrapped him, and he took a heavy breath of his favourite smell.

“Then he said again: I thought I had a unique flower, but all I have is an ordinary flower. This flower, plus three volcanoes as high as my knees, and one of them has been extinguished forever. All of this won’t make me a great prince. So he laid in the grass and wept.” Mom’s voice lingered in his ears, sweet and soft, and seemed to be slightly different from her voice when she was preparing for a report, but still felt very good at any of those moments.

The boy did not speak, he was actually a little sleepy, and listening to the story, he had new questions that could not be answered. But he ended up not asking, because it seemed to have been a long time since he last heard his mother tell him a bedtime story like this.

He doesn’t care about the follow-up of the story, he just wants to make this moment last longer. Thinking about this, he moved closer into the embrace that held him.

Perhaps sensing the boy’s rare silence, his mother took the initiative to stop, smoothed the messy hair on top of his head, and suddenly asked, “Is there anything you want for your birthday the day after tomorrow?”

“Any gift is fine?” He blinked, looking at his mother expectantly as she nodded, and could barely wait to say, “Then I want an answer to the rules of this world.”

He regretted it as soon as he spoke. After all, he had promised his father only hours ago that he would find the answer to the question himself. So, he hurriedly changed the subject.

“Mom, in this story you’re telling me, will love help?”

“To be precise, love can be an answer.”

“Then ‘love’ will abide by the rules of this world?”

Mom smiled helplessly and stroked his head.

“You have to look for the answer to this problem yourself, okay? Your little head is being worked too hard, let it relax,” She paused, “Mom sometimes selfishly hopes that you can… be more naive.”

“It’s not like asking you to do age-appropriate things, I just hope that you don’t lock yourself up in a scientific manner and have the opportunity to see the world in different ways. You should know that the answers to many questions in this world are not through equations.”

As she raised her hand, she booped the boy’s mouth, nose, eyes, and ears, and then took his hand and put it over his left chest.

“Goodnight, my little prince.”

CHAPTER FOUR:

That night, the boy slept very deeply. The world in his dream was like a colourless planet, quietly waiting for him to fill it in. He walked in the endless universe until a dazzling spot of light appeared before his eyes.

The morning sunlight jumped over his eyelids, and the melodious trumpet slowly penetrated his ears. The boy rubbed his sleepy eyes and sat up in the bed. He remembered this melody, which seemed to be a fragment from the second movement of the Symphony from the New World.

He folded his quilt, opened the curtains, and opened a small slit in the window. There was already a noticeable coldness in the November air.

Through the balcony, flying gold osmanthus dotted the entire hillside. The autumn sun seems to have a special temperature and magic power, giving everything a warm golden edge.

Dad’s figure appeared on some distant mountain top observation deck, and the silver trumpet gleamed in the dawn. This is one of his many hobbies. Especially when something is worth celebrating, he will play a few songs. Even the flowers and plants in the flower beds that have just been watered will seem to be listening to this melody.

The boy’s mood couldn’t help but jump up. After a brief wash, he ran straight to the top of the mountain. The approaching trumpet sound was like the background of his running, becoming a special mini recital in his head.

After the end of the song, the boy just arrived near the viewing platform, and his father turned around to bow.

“You got up so early. I guess yesterday’s question now has an answer?”

The boy shook his head honestly. Dad smiled and beckoned him over without any surprise, then put the trumpet into his hand and raised his chin. “Want to try?”

The city he overlooked seems to have just woken up, and the scent of fresh grass fills the air. The boy looked at the trumpet in his hand and tilted his head in thought. He recalled the appearance of his father playing the trumpet, trying to put the trumpet to his lips, and took a hard breath.

The surroundings were quiet as if nothing had happened. The boy looked at the trumpet in shock and tried it again, but it was still as silent as ever. Seeing his son’s red face, his father laughed.

“It seems even young geniuses have things they aren’t good at. Come, prove your learning ability!”

Dad patiently guided the boy, from how to blow into the trumpet to the frequencies of breathing. He didn’t deliberately avoid obscure professional vocabulary, but when the noticed the boy had some doubts, he would explain two more sentences for that part.

Time seemed to slow down then, quietly hovering between father and son. Finally, the boy successfully sounded the trumpet. The sound was bright and crisp, as if it could directly penetrate the night before dawn.

“The trumpet is a musical instrument that can emit a loud sound or use the strength of the airflow to make a gentle sound.” Dad took the silver trumpet from the boy’s hand back. “Many people have some inherent ideas about things. People who don’t understand certain things will make one-sided judgements casually.”

“There are many casual people in the world. They think that the many rules are what people say, so they gradually become a part of the rules.

Dad put his mouth to the trumpet again. “They never know that even an ordinary trumpet can contain the secrets of the entire universe. Find the answer in your own way, even if you question it, it doesn’t matter.”

The high-pitched trumpet accompanied the distant sun slowly rising, illuminating the quiet land.

CHAPTER FIVE:

The sunrise on Friday seemed to arrive with blessings. After school, the boy sped up his normal pace going home, not looking forward to his birthday, but knowing that his parents rarely took time off to prepare dinner at home.

After the family of three happily feasted, Mom sang a birthday song and brought out a cake. He had never liked sweets, so according to the usual practice, only the step of making a wish was left. The boy sat upright, and when he was about to close his eyes, his father opened his mouth suddenly.

“How about dad teaches you a special way to make a wish this year?”

He looked up at his dad’s face softened by the candlelight, and nodded in cooperation. Maybe this is the habit of scientists, creating new ways to do things all the time. He thought so.

“Let’s make wishes with our eyes open in the future. Tell your wishes to your heart, but use your eyes to record everything that’s happening on this day. Because today is a particularly beautiful day, those who accompany you on this day are also beautiful.”

“Yes, now it’s me and your mother, but there will be others who love you in the future. You must keep that in mind.”

Dad fixed his glasses, his tone very serious. As if affected by such emotions, the boy also nodded vigorously. He looked at the candlelight swaying in front of him and silently drew a small wish from his heart.

I hope I can grow up soon, learn more knowledge, and become as knowledgeable as my parents. I hope that the research that mom and dad are doing goes well. It would be better if their work made them a little less busy. I hope that today next year, we can be together as a family.

The candlelight was against the boy’s shining eyes, and there was a sudden sticky touch to his cheeks. The moment the boy raised his head in astonishment, another source of light flashed, and his mother poked out her head from a camera triumphantly.

“A successful capture!”

His father beside him gave a thumbs-up of affirmation, the cream of the cake still on his fingertips.

“.....”

Occasionally when these similar situations happen, the boy will wonder about the authenticity of his parents’ occupations.

The moon quietly climbed up in the night sky, and the boy observed that his father would look out of the window from time to time after night fell. Finally, he walked towards him with a smile, and with a mysterious expression, he pulled him out into the yard.

The wind blew the small blue and white flags with the leaves, bringing out a hint of autumn. Dad took off his white coat and put it on the little boy casually. A large astronomical telescope was placed in a part of the yard, and the boy suddenly had a guess in his heart.

“Even if the birthday gift a kid wants isn’t ‘cute’ at all, a good dad still has to work hard to satisfy his wish. So -- this is the birthday gift that mom and I will give you. Happy Birthday!”

The boy turned his head to look at his mother who was leaning against the door. She shoved her shawl together and blinked at him. He couldn’t help but sigh again, but his heart was warm.

Dad adjusted the telescope to a suitable height, and even praised the boy for growing taller again. Through the binoculars, he clearly saw the universe.

“There are so many huge and unknown secrets in the universe we live in. Your mother and I are honoured to be the ones who explore and study it.”

“Then, can I be the same as you?”

“Of course. So, what dad is trying to tell you is that the world is big, but also very, very small. Don’t stop and stay where you are because of something unknown, and move forward with questions. Go, and one day, you will find the answer.”

The boy looked away from the telescope, looked at his parents who were always watching over him, and then looked up at the vast expanse of the night sky.

The galaxy just within reach has now become a distant point.

He was lost in thought. After a moment, he raised his head, and there seemed to be a flash of light in his eyes.

“I think I know, what is the answer to the rules of this world? Mom and dad, you can listen to me, right?”

CHAPTER SIX:

In the study, the fireplace flickered and made crackling noises.

In Einstein’s special theory of relativity, as a component of the four dimensional momentum, energy is conserved in any closed system, and when observed in any interior system, time changes. The length of the vector is the static mass of a single mass point, and will also be conserved.

The boy knelt on the ground holding a piece of chalk, surrounded by books, dictionaries, calculation papers and tools that he had been reading these days. His parents surrounded him, and by his side, they patiently watched the formula and reasonings he wrote down stroke by stroke.

“But the book says, for physical theories in flat space-time, since quantum mechanics allows for short-term non-conservation, energy conservation is not observed in quantum mechanics.” The boy frowned, but the chalk in his hand did not stop. It seemed that the entire universe was paved in front of him, and he tried his best to use those jerky and unfamiliar words to know and break down the door separating him from the answer he needed.

In fact, there are still many things he doesn’t understand. In such a short period of time, he really couldn’t cross those unknown letters and equations to get those answers. However, he did not intend to admit defeat. He has his own views on this world.

“To sum it up, the rule of the world is that it may only have a rule within a certain period of time, but it may appear as more cognition, and new rules will appear.

The rules of this world will always be broken.

After he finished speaking, he pushed the slightly large glasses up the bridge of his nose like his father. Dad frowned, thinking about the rationality of this reason. After a moment, he nodded thoughtfully:

“It’s a really interesting theory.”

The boy did not show a hint of a smile, and dad’s conversation turned.

“It’s just your idea, I'm afraid it’s challenging Einstein.”

The small head that was originally straight couldn’t help but deflate, like a ball that had leaked a bit of air.

“But then again…” The boy’s eyes lit up.

“It is worthy of recognition and encouragement. Keep going.” Dad patted him on the shoulder approvingly. “Unexpectedly, my son now has the potential to discover new things and world truths. It seems that becoming a great scientist is just around the corner! But for now, let’s be a happy birthday kid.” He said this and rubbed the top of the boy’s head vigorously.

“Six years old is no longer a child.” The boy whispered. “

“Then this big kid can’t tell his dad what the wish he made was?” “No, the birthday wish won’t come true.”

“Haha, you seem like quite an ordinary kid in this moment.”

“....”

“My wish is to know the same knowledge as my parents, so that I can learn about the world with you.”

The boy’s sudden opening stunned his parents for a moment.

Mom didn’t speak, but took the boy in her arms with satisfaction. Dad raised his chin pretending, looked at the boy carefully, and put on an expression saying ‘this is a bit difficult’.

“This wish is quite big. Hey, why did you say it? It’ll be even harder to realise now.”

It seems that he felt his wife’s speechless gaze, and the man finally took off his permorative mask and laughed.

“But I’m not wrong. It’s really not easy to realise that wish. Because I will move forward too. By this time next year, not only will you have grown one year, but I will have as well. I understand that you’ll have more knowledge than now, but your father is already a more educated old man.”

“But I can catch up faster than you can learn.”

“Then what we’re facing now is the dilemma of catching up.”

The mother who has not spoken picked up a scattered piece of chalk and wrote on the ground, saying, “Assuming that the amount of knowledge is composed of a fixed increase in the learning rate of the previous year, and an additional increase in the learning rate this year, dad’s knowledge amount is 290 times the amount of yours.”

"His learning rate also increases at a constant rate of 6 units per year. But dad will start declining in 10 years, and his learning speed will decrease by 2 units year to year on the basis of constant growth. Your initial learning speed is 1/30 of dad, but it will increase at a constant rate. So, there’s one question, how long do you need to catch up with dad in the future?”

The boy opened his mouth, but had no answer.

Dad looked at the formula on the ground and frowned slightly. After a brief silence, he seemed to have calculated the answer, and took a breath before rubbing his hands. “It turned out to be faster than I thought. It seems that I can’t be too slack! But before time can give an answer, let's make an appointment at this time of your birthday next year, and we’ll come back!”

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc lucien #mr love queen’s choice lucien #lucien #translation

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Text

Mr. Lonely

What a Wonderful World Masterlist. Also on AO3!

Day 4 of Whumptober! On the menu today is: buried alive.

~~~

He startles awake in the dark. Not an unusual occurrence, really – it’s not uncommon that he wakes up in the middle of the night; he’s always been a light sleeper. That had changed when he’d started travelling by Geralt’s side, his subconscious feeling safe enough around the Witcher to delve into the lands of dreams further than it previously dared to.

He lets out a soft, content sigh at the thought of Geralt. It’s nearly spring, now, and soon enough, Geralt will come down from the mountains, from Kaer Morhen, and he and Jaskier will start travelling together again. It’s a pleasant thought that makes something warm settle in his chest, though that has to take a backseat for now, when he feels his own breath wafting back into his face.

Strange. He shifts a little, suddenly noticing that he’s not on his usually so soft mattress in his family’s estate. Sure, he’s lying on cushions, but there’s something underneath it that hurts his back. It almost feels like he’s lying on wood, even.

He frowns. Why would he be lying on wood? That makes no sense. He shifts again, trying to turn around, ready to stretch his hand out in search of a nightstand or something of the like that can at least give him some idea as to where he is.

But his movement is stopped short when his shoulder hits something soft right above him, mere inches in front of his face. He reaches out, touching the cushions tentatively. He presses into the velvet and goose feathers, and feels something hard and unyielding underneath them. Almost like a plank of wood.

He closes his eyes, trying not to hyperventilate, as an image is conjured in his mind. A terrible, horrible image.

Don’t panic, he tells himself, as he lowers his hand, carefully moving them to the sides, only to be stopped after a few inches by more wood covered in cushions. He stretches out, the tips of his toes and the top of his head touching… once again, cushions and wood.

It’s then that he hyperventilates, when he realizes that he’s in a coffin.

He tightens his hands into fists, desperately trying not to scream out his panic. He’s got a limited supply of air left – who knows how long he’s even been in here before he woke up – he can’t use it on something as wasteful as screaming if no one can hear him.

But maybe they can. Maybe he’s not buried yet, maybe he’s still in the grand hall at the Lettenhove estate, where people say their goodbyes to him, or maybe he’s still in the funeral home, awaiting his own burial. Maybe it’s not too late yet.

He feels his fingers with his thumbs, and blesses all his lucky stars for the large, bejewelled rings his parents put on him before they put him in the coffin. They’re sharp enough that, when he pushes his fist against the cushions, he can hear the tell-tale pop of a jewel breaking through the fabric. A swift, jaggy movement of his arm, and goose feathers are spilling all over him, hand reaching into the newly created hole to touch the wood of the coffin.

He balls his hand into a fist, pulling it back as far as it can go, before slamming it against the lid. A dull thud resounds through the coffin, and it might as well be a death sentence. The sound tells him that there is something heavy lying on top of the lid – something like six feet of dirt, perhaps.

He’s going to die in here. He’s going to die a slow, horrible death. He’s going to suffocate in this coffin as air slowly runs out, each breath he takes now another step closer to his demise.

He closes his eyes. If he’s going to die like this, might as well try to figure out why all this happened in the first place.

He remembers this winter, remembers the freezing cold, remembers sitting in front of the hearth with a mug of tea and a nice book, remembers snowball fights with his younger cousins, always ending with him getting tackled into the snow by five kids and two toddlers, before finally managing to usher them inside in their soaking clothes, lest they catch something out in the cold.

Except he did – catch something in the cold, that is. He remembers feeling worse and worse each passing day, fever developing, his mother sitting by his side and dabbing at his sweaty forehead with a cold, wet cloth, a worried crease in her brow.

And then he remembers nothing.

He frowns into the darkness. That must’ve been it, then. His sickness must’ve become so bad that his parents thought he was dead, so they buried him. It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened – he’s heard the terrible stories of people unearthing bodies to make place for newly deceased, only to find scratch marks on the inside of the coffin lids.

He just never thought he’d become one of those people.

So now what? He can’t just lie here and do nothing and wait for the end. There must be some way to escape. He can’t push the lid open, since it’s probably nailed shut and there’s six feet of dirt lying on top of it. So, he’ll have to make his own path through.

He reaches up again, making the hole in the cushions above him bigger, spluttering a bit as he gets goose feathers in his mouth. When he’s sure it’s big enough, he puts his fists against the wood, bejewelled rings digging into his skin. He reaches down, before punching up against the lid with one hand. And he does it again, and again, and again, and again, trying to keep his breathing as even as possible, as to not waste any air.

When his right arm grows tired, he continues with his left. And so on and so forth.

It must be hours when he finally feels something crack under his fingers, though unfortunately, the sharp, throbbing pain in his hand tells him he may have actually broken a bone instead of the coffin lid. Fuck. It hurts like hell, but he doesn’t feel like he’s got much choice but to continue.

So he does, trying to do most of the work with his right hand instead of his left, only resorting to the left one when his right hand is screaming in agony, muscles quivering with exertion. Every punch is like someone’s poked a knife into his hand and is twisting it around, and he can’t hold back the whimper he lets out every time his left fist makes contact with the wood.

He tries not to cry as the hours pass by fruitlessly, he really does, but he can’t stop the salty tears from leaking out of his eyes and down his cheeks, as hope dwindles with each passing hour, minute, second, breath.

He’s going to die in here.

He can feel the oxygen running out. His heart is beating faster, breathing coming quicker and quicker as his body fails to pull in the air he needs time after time, head slowly spinning as his eyelids begin to droop. He doesn’t have long left. Not long at all.

And, when he finally resigns himself to his terrible fate, when he drops his hands and feels all hope leaving him, he hears a soft thud above him.

He frowns. Could it be? He’s got nothing to lose, except the last few minutes of his life, though he’ll surely spend those in misery anyways.

He takes a deep breath, gasping in whatever oxygen is left in the coffin, and screams. He doesn’t have the energy to form words or sentences, doesn’t bother with those – he just screams like his life depends on it. Because it does.

He screams and screams, until he can barely breathe anymore, until his throat is raw and his head is spinning, and he feels the last few moments of his life slipping through his fingers, eyes falling shut. His breaths are shallow and fast. He coughs, choking on the empty air in the coffin, body trying everything in its might to keep him alive, to breathe in fresh air, but its attempts are fruitless.

He feels his eyes slipping closed one last time, descending into the darkness, as he hears a distant thwack above him.

---

He gasps in lungfuls of air, eyes slamming open before squeezing shut against the sudden onslaught of light. He distantly registers someone holding him and saying his name in his ear, telling him they’re here and he’s safe and thank the gods I heard you scream, Jask – but his entire mind is filled with the utter ecstasy of getting to breathe fresh air again, head spinning as he sucks in breath after breath.

Slowly, his mind comes back to him, and bit by bit, he pries his eyes open again. The sky is a pale blue above him, the first pollen of spring dancing through the air, though his field of vision is almost completely blocked by a head of white hair.

“Geralt,” he gasps, voice raw and ruined from screaming, and he barely manages to lift his arms to weakly return the crushing hug.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asks against his hair, and when Jaskier looks to the side, he notices the open lid of the coffin, purple, velvet pillows torn open, goose feathers spilling out, the inside of the wood covered in notches and scratches and blood, a single jewel sticking from it.

“Yes,” he whispers. But tears well in his eyes when he realizes what fate would have befallen him if he’d been in there a little longer, if he hadn’t heard Geralt walking towards his premature grave, if he hadn’t screamed for help. He sobs quietly, burying his face in Geralt’s shoulder, curling in on himself as the adrenaline and panic return, chasing away the numbness he’d been floating in for the past hours.

Geralt holds him more tightly, soothingly rubbing little circles into his back. “You’re safe, Jask. You’re safe, it’s alright, you’re going to be alright.”

And though his mind won’t let him believe that just yet, he nods, quietly grateful for every breath of fresh air the gods have granted him.

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #buried alive #the witcher #fic #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #what a wonderful world

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thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters · 4 years

Text

Calm After the Storm

Summary: A storm brings back memories, and an unexpected gift.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury, anxiety, fluff.

Word count: 2.2K

Prompt: ‘Trampoline That Got Sucked Up in a Tornado’

A/N: This is for the Unfic Challenge from @spnfanficpond It’s my first time participating in a challenge and I had so much fun turning this prompt into the oneshot it’s become!

Beta: @princessmisery666

|| JJ’s Masterlist ||

(gif)

An uneasy feeling took hold of you when the bare lightbulb above your head started flickering. It was simply a reminder that big storms had an influence on the town’s electricity, but you couldn’t help seeing it as a bad omen of sorts. As if every flicker went paired with a whispered warning.

Brace yourself. Brace yourself.

And so you did.

Dean had his arms wrapped around you, and at the feeling of your body tightening, he dipped his head to bring his lips to your ear. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

He was trying to soothe you but all you could do was whimper in response. “I hate this.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “I know, sweetheart.” One of his hands was in your hair, gently stroking. The other cupped your cheek and lifted your head so your eyes met. “I’m sure it’s not gonna be much longer.”

You knew he was right. Through the anxiety fogging your brain, you could grasp at some common sense. It told you to listen for the wind, or any other sounds coming from outside. The worst was over, you could tell.

It should have calmed you more, but you were still on edge. Ever since the storm a year before, the biggest one in a decade, you were a wreck whenever the weather reports said another was on its way.

Tornados weren’t uncommon where you lived. You were actually more used to them than Dean had been when you moved to this town. Unlike you, he hadn’t grown up in the area and dealt with extreme weather conditions like these for as long as he could remember.

However, your advantage had vanished the moment you got hurt during another one of those storms. It was right after you and Dean moved into the neighborhood. Most houses had still been under construction and it had been a loose wooden beam from one of those constructions that gave you the scare of your life.

You had been cleaning up in the kitchen, when a strong gust of wind forced the beam through the window you were standing only a few feet away from. The impact had shattered both the glass and your left shoulder.

Throughout your recovery, you had seen Dean go from feeling horrified, to being haunted by a heavy dose of guilt you failed to talk him out of, and, eventually, to being overtaken by a sense of determination that had led him to build a storm cellar in your backyard.

One in which you were currently hiding out once again.

“Las Vegas,” Dean spoke quietly into the dimly lit room. “Weekend trip, two years ago.”

Your mind needed a few seconds to catch up, but then you realized what he was doing. It was a game he had invented the first time you were hiding out in the storm cellar. A way to distract you from the fear wrapping tightly around your throat. He would mention a happy memory you two shared, and then you would take turns sharing a specific moment you loved most about it.

This time, you couldn’t respond. You were already finding it hard to focus again, and your body had started to shiver in Dean’s arms despite him already having taken off his jacket and tightly wrapped you in it earlier.

Dean went first instead, he wasn’t giving up. “You wanted to go on that hike,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I remember thinking, ‘A hike, really? There’s so many things to do in this city and she wants to go trekking in the desert?’”

You closed your eyes as you focused on his voice and the rhythm of his hand still stroking your hair.

“But then that sunset happened and the shades of orange light hit your face in a way that knocked the damn ground out right from under me. Even winning the biggest jackpot in town that night wouldn’t have compared to the way I felt when I looked at you on top of that hill.”

Dean kissed your forehead and you nuzzled into his neck. His breath was hot on your cheek, sending the first good kind of shivers down your back since entering the cellar.

“The first night.” Your voice was merely a whisper. You were afraid it would break if you attempted to speak any louder. “You spilled your drink at the restaurant and after you had left for the bathroom to get cleaned up, I heard the people at the table next to us talk about how they thought you peed your pants.”

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the wind outside. Then, Dean’s chest started rumbling beneath yours. His hearty laugh startled you at first, but then you found yourself joining in with a careful chuckle of your own.

“That’s your favorite part of the whole trip?” he asked, but he didn’t sound at all offended. Knowing Dean, he was probably just happy his distraction tactic had proven to be a success once again.

“Well,” you mumbled, already sitting up a bit straighter and feeling less like simply trying to breathe was using up all your energy, “there was also that thing we did afterwards, in the hotel room…”

Dean’s goofy grin sent surges of electricity through your body that made your heartbeat flicker like the lightbulb above your heads. He reached out to pull your face closer to his but right as your lips were about to touch, he paused.

“Listen,” he whispered.

You did as told and immediately understood what he was trying to tell you. Silence. That was all you could hear as the two of you held your breath. The storm outside had to have settled down enough for the noise to have stopped.

“Should-” You licked your lips because they had suddenly gotten dry at the realization you might be heading out into the open. “Should we go back to the house?”

“Only if you’re ready,” Dean said softly, sitting back a bit to give you room to breathe.

You took a moment to think about it. Of course you wanted to stay in the bunker for as long as possible, because you wanted to feel safe as long as possible. But if the storm was over, if the two of you could go into the house again, you’d rather spend the rest of the day there.

Dean stirred when you stayed quiet. “How about I go first?” he suggested gently. He was already moving away from you when he saw the worried look in your eyes. “I’ll only be a minute,” he assured you, placing his hand on yours for just a moment. “Promise.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand before he pulled it away. Within the next few seconds, Dean had gone up the steps and you were left alone. In the dim lighting, you could see your own fingers trembling.

At first you thought it would be a good idea to start counting. After all, Dean had said he would only need a minute. Though you knew that shouldn’t necessarily be taken literally, you thought counting to sixty might help keep you from going stir crazy.

You had to start over a few times because unhelpful thoughts, fueled by worry, tried taking over your brain. You had barely gotten to fifty after the third try when the sound of the latch opening almost made you jump out of your skin.

Light poured into the room and Dean’s head appeared in the opening at the top of the steps. He was smiling at first but when he saw you, hunched over and trembling, his face fell.

You closed your eyes and sighed in relief at the sight of him unhurt. His heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and then he was next to you again. Arms wrapping around your body, hands covering yours. You could feel him trying to pry your fingers open and you opened your eyes in surprise at the realization you were clenching your hands into fists.

You blinked a few times, looking at the crescent moon imprints in the palms of your hands, where your nails had dug in deep. Dean brushed his large fingers over them, and though his skin was rough, the feeling was soothing.

Dean didn’t say anything, just held you until you eased up again. And that’s when you realized he had left the ledge open. There was still light pouring in, as well as the sound of the wind blowing outside. You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air.

“It’s all good up there,” Dean finally spoke, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath tickle your skin. You weren’t sure that was the reason you got chills, or if it was the thought of going up. But you trusted Dean. If he said it was safe, you would follow him.

You didn’t let go of his hand as the two of you left the bunker. Dean closed the latch behind you while you took a moment to let your eyes adjust to the natural lighting. You took a look around the yard. The place was a bit of a mess. Some of the backyard furniture Dean had tried to secure before the storm, had gotten loose and made its way across the lawn. There was a bunch of trash that had blown over. And there, turned on its side, leaning against the back porch, was something else that didn’t belong in your yard.

“Is that…” you started, a frown on your face.

Dean turned around and followed your gaze. “Yup!” he said, a bit too excitedly for your taste. “Must’ve blown over from one of the neighbors’ backyards.”

You took in the giant trampoline and imagined it being forced up into the air and across multiple properties. The thought of such a dangerous thing caused you to shiver for the umpteenth time that day. Dean noticed and wrapped and arm around you, pulling you close against his warm body.

“Let’s get you inside,” he offered, already leading you over to the backdoor. “I’ll clean up out here. You look like you might enjoy a little nap.”

“That’s just your way of saying I look like crap, isn’t it?” you guessed while making your way through the hallway and up the stairs.

All you could hear was the sound of Dean’s laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen, but it was enough to answer your question.

You woke up feeling relaxed. All stress and anxiety from earlier seemed to have been erased from your muscles and mind. Turning over onto your other side, you spotted the empty teacup on your nightstand.

Dean had come up before you had fallen asleep, to bring you some calming chamomile tea, before he headed into the yard to tidy up. He always knew exactly how to take care of you.

You smiled at the thought of how lucky you were to have a man like Dean in your life, but your face fell the moment you had made your way downstairs and into the backyard. Despite knowing the storm was over, you felt uneasy at the sight of the dark sky. Your hair was swept up by a gust of wind and you shivered.

An unfamiliar sound made you turn your head to the left. There was that trampoline again, the one you noticed earlier before heading into the house. And from the looks of it, the journey which had led it into your yard, hadn’t caused any damage.

It was standing on its steel legs now, looking steady, and creaking steadily every time Dean landed in the middle of the surface, only to be launched back into the air. He twirled and did a backflip before his eyes finally landed on you and he stilled himself.

Dean was smiling from ear to ear, and as you walked closer, you noticed his eyes were twinkling with excitement. He walked over to the edge of the trampoline carefully and held out his hand for you.

“C’mon, give it a try,” he coaxed.

You looked up at him with uncertainty, and there was that beautiful smile again. It made you feel warm inside, chasing away every last bit of anxiety that was left.

The first bounce felt a little unsteady. You needed a moment to get used to it. The last time you jumped on a trampoline was so long ago, you couldn’t even remember when it had been exactly.

Dean joined in after a minute of letting you find your balance.

The two of you laughed and bounced around each other. At some point, Dean came down at the exact time you did, causing you to be thrown up into the air even higher. You squealed happily, closing your eyes as you felt weightless, like you could fly.

You both felt like little kids again. Everything else was long forgotten. The storm, the cellar and the tension. You were free of worry, without a care in the world.

#unfic challenge #JJ's fics #supernatural #dean x reader #spn oneshot #fluff #angst #dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #spnfanficpond

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