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#I don't know if I could even count it as a mistake
strawberrymochin · 1 day
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liar
The slap you landed on shoko's right cheek has its sound echoing through the air surrounding you guys. The force of your hand left it's imprints on her cheek, blazing red as her eyes widen. Never she thought, you— her timid, gentle and kind junior would slap her.
"Why did you agree on such horrendous thing?" You scream your lungs out. "Why?"
"I — ah— tha—"
"Why? Why didn't you stopped him? Why didn't you informed me? All these mess were happening right one after another and you kept lying." Your eyes burned with tears pooling, threatening to fall. You couldn't breathe, it seemed as if your lungs went stiff, even drawing one breath could be fatal to you. Still you couldn't help but scream, give up on the rest of oxygen you still had hold off. "Liar. Liar. Liar. You're a liar. Gojo's a liar. Megumi's a liar. You all lied to me. You said everything's fine when nothing was fine. Why?"
"Y/n try to understand—"
"NO! Don't take my name from your filthy mouth who only knows to sew lies!"
Shoko forwarded her palms indicating you to calm down, "List—", a slash of cold current passed through her body in a millisecond.
Her eyes turned from your figure to her hands— now bleeding, her palms layed on the floor messing the floor in red. What?
What exactly was that? She looked at you, your eyes fixated on her, however there was a sense of uncanniness in your presence. It wasn't normal. Not at all. 'Did she just used her cursed technique on me?' thought shoko.
You were a healer, then how could you use a curse energy to land a blow, cutting off her palms. Unless you manifest that beas— shoko's eyes scanned around the entire room in horror. There's no sign of that curse, then how? But it's not the right moment, she needs to regenerate her hands. 'Focus.' she chanted in her mind. Continuously.
If you did really landed that blow on shoko, everyone's doomed. A bigger threat looped around everyone's necks and she knew, she sensed it's even worse than sukuna. One mistake and the threads of patience snaps, it's death they will be greeting. Maybe she knew it, she shouldn't have underestimated you, she found it bizzare when she first met you.
You had no such aura she could sense, yet yaga sensei introduced you to them as a user of healing energy. Normally when sorcerers are born, they emit a special aura which could be picked up by people born similar to them— and by the curses, however you had none.
She thought you were weak, then why did the higher ups ordered to kill you? If you were weak, weakness that can't even emit a healing aura then why assign assassins to take life out of you? Wasn't that just a waste of time?
"She's weird." Muttered gojo, sitting beside her as principal yaga assigned them to watch you as you practice your healing on geto's small cuts and scratches. It was 2005 probably, shoko smirked at him, lips creasing in a teasing smile, "though you seem to find that chick cute. Is that why is sense jealousy from you? Since that chick's treating geto, you seemed to be anxious not even trying to focus on keeping your infinity on...."
"S-shut up!"
Shoko laughed turning your and geto's attention towards them, geto shouted asking what she's laughing about, whereas you just smiled next to him.
The memory is so distant yet so clear, just like the buzzing sounds of insects in a warm day under the sun rays blazing the ground.
"Don't tell her the truth. I'm counting on you shoko!!" These were the last lines gojo said before leaving to face sukuna. After he was gone, she pondered on those lines a while, how long is he going to conceal the truth? She wondered. Though she thought he would handle it. Make it somehow. She was wrong.
Everyone tends to make the same mistake to the point it cannot be counted— mistaking the weak for powerless, useless and trash whom they could crumble at any point.
Shoko's eyes filled with terror, she couldn't move, as if you were entrancing her, taking control of her body, piercing into her each nerve. In a moment you were there, right infront of her, closing the distance between them, your hands stroke her face, making her shudder from your deadpan look. The clinic which was lit with dull LEDs suddenly engulfed in darkness.
She made the same mistake as others. Thinking you as of mere weakling was the biggest mistake of her life. There must have been a reason the higher ups saw you as a threat. Even the day you manifested that huge curse from your soul in 2006, she thought that was a mere circumstance driven by emotions which caused the curse to appear. It died down soon. Only lasted for five minutes or so, but the destruction was formidable, she thought maybe you could have manifested such huge curse capable of destroying the entire town, but it's effects were temporary. Thus the weak tag, something she tucked on your first impression, was never removed from her mind.
That was her mistake. You were never weak, rather you were unaware of your capabilities. The day you manifested that huge curse, it died down within minutes without any sorcery, since you— it's creater sucked back the power given to him— your emotions, your memories, turning it into mere dust.
You didn't remember any of that simply because you, yourself were cursed.
Your soul was cursed.
Shoko's memories flashed infront of her as you kept stroking her head. She could see her entire life up till now in your eyes. "Shall I kill you?" You asked her, your tone's completely different, even unfamiliar to you yourself. Never in life you felt such rage. It's was boiling your blood, making you want to dig your nails into your skin a scratch it till you draw out blood. You felt pulling out our hair, stabbing yourself, scorching yourself till every muscle on your body limbs out.
Yet before that, you felt that immense hunger crawl through your nerves, wracking every cell of humanity through you. Your bloodlust was on its peak.
'Kill her!'
'kill.'
'wipe out every single human being.'
'death'
'avenge his death.'
Several words rang in your ears, you were unsure which one to listen. The fury inside you had not even dimmed a bit rather taking a peak in shoko's memories fueled it even more. The look of Gojo's dead body in her memories shook you till your core.
Why did he choose to lie?
Why couldn't he just say the truth, why didn't he inform you about tsumiki? Why did he had to force himself to go through all this alone? Why?
Are you that incompetent that he couldn't even share his grief with you?
Not only the guy you loved, the boy you raised and the girl you trusted as your sister betrayed you.
While you were away in foreign, they blinded you from the destruction happening in here. Why didn't they consider it would hurt you?
Your nails grew digging out flesh tearing her ear, blood dripped down her neck and she could do nothing but stare into your eyes.
'if anyone bullies you, come to me, i will beat the shit outta them.' shoko's voice lingered around you, she said that when you first joined jujutsu high. Her voice was warm and gentle. You didn't remember when anyone last talked to you in that calming tone.
She may have lied, underestimated you, but you never sensed any harming intent. You admired her, wished her to be your big sister in another life.
'What am i doing?'
Tears fell from your eyes, as shoko was out from your trance, falling to the ground, gasping for breath overwhelmed.
"I didn't — didn't wanted to lie. But gojo wanted to keep you away from the danger. I'm sorry." She managed coughing out blood.
What have you done? Is this why you should have better off dying? You shouldn't have ran away from those assassins. If you were dead long ago, then you wouldn't have hurt shoko. You wouldn't have tore her ear, cut her hands. 'I'm indeed a monster.'
You looked down at shoko, bleeding, coughing, too dazed to heal herself. What you've done could never mend the bond between you two, but you could atleast try saving the bond you shared with your treasured memories, among which shoko played an important role, she made your days happy, she gave you courage to live out life. It's time for you to repay.
You crouch down to her level, inhaling a deep breath. That's it you could do this, taking her disfigured half healed hands, you drown yourself into the void. Your memories with shoko flashed, lighting the void, your chest pained as your mind fuzzed with the distant laughs and sweet moments spent with her.
You can't back away. You need to give up. Burn her memories with you. Sacrifice a part of your soul. Heal her.
The flashes burned into the void.
Shoko raised her eyes suddenly feeling lightweight. Her hands had regenerated, she touched her ear, expecting it to be wounded, but rather surprise took her, her ear is there, right in its place, attached.
"Did you healed me?" She asked y/n, who seemed to have stilled for a while. Shoko waited for your answer. "Y/n?"
"Who are you?"
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Part 2 ?
© strawberrymochin 2024 - plagiarism won't be tolerated | divider made by me - don't use without my permission |
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delicatebarness · 2 days
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cry baby | chapter five
Summary: John's at it again, but can Bucky control his anger this time?
Warning: John Walker. (You didn't think he was gone, did you?). Bullying in the workplace. Crying.
Word Count: 1141
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A/N: I don't have any words. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos
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Each tick of the clock echoed his taunts in your mind, he made it his mission to make every day of your working life unbearable.
Tuesday, he found new ways to undermine your every move, affecting your confidence—another meeting where he questioned every idea you had. “Do you even understand the client’s needs?” he would sneer, raising an eyebrow as you sat back down. Your colleagues would shift uncomfortably in their chairs, yet none spoke up to him. 
He would then proceed to pile extra work untoward you. “I need you to fill these out by the end of the day,” he said as he dumped a file containing more documents on your desk. “Surely, this is something you can do without backup,”
You fought back tears as the stress began to blur your vision. Your hands shook as you typed, making the day drag on longer than it should.
Wednesday, he started the day by calling you into his cubicle. Your skin began to itch with every step of the way. “I noticed more errors in your presentation,” he said, not bothering to look up from the computer screen. “It’s sloppy.” 
“But I, I triple-checked everything,” you protested, your voice trembling as you stuttered—the frustration beginning to bubble up.
“I-I-I…” he mocked, his gaze snapped to yours with a cold and unyielding glare. “Do it again.” 
The rest of the day was spent correcting mistakes that didn’t exist, the task gnawed at you.
Your exhaustion was visible by Thursday, dark circles framed your eyes, and your posture had begun to deflate into a slump. John relished in your deterioration. “What’s the matter, Baby?” his tone thick with fake concern as he leaned against your cubicle. A shiver sent down your back, your stomach felt nauseous at the sound of the nickname coming from his lips. “Work too much for you?” 
The peaceful workplace had become a battleground, your eyes welled up as you bit your lips to suppress the sense of overwhelm. Another day dragged, and with each keystroke, the air felt heavier. 
Friday was the worst. Another call to his cubicle, “You’ve been taken off the project,” he announced, “You’re not up to the task.” 
You felt humiliated as he stood, towering over you. “But I’ve worked so hard on it,” your voice was barely a whisper. Another day of your eyes burning with the sensation of tears welling. 
“Exactly,” a cruel smile played on his lips as he reached out, tilting your chin up with his finger. His gaze bored into yours. “And it’s still… not good enough.” 
The feeling of defeat settled in as you returned to your desk. For the past few weeks, you listened, took notes, planned, and braved public speaking for this project. Only for him to take it away from you at the last hurdle. 
You lingered as the office began to empty at the end of the day, unknowing how you could face the weekend knowing you failed. 
~
That evening, you sat on your couch watching re-runs of a 90s sitcom with a tub of chocolate ice cream. The tears you managed to keep contained for the majority of the week, finally spilled down your cheeks. 
Sensing something wasn’t right, Bucky called, your phone vibrating on your coffee table. You hesitated to answer, you knew he’d hear your cries from the tone of your voice. Yet, you felt a pang of guilt. 
You hadn’t seen your friends, not even your brother, all week. Too focused on trying to please John’s requests, you skipped the bar and now skipped Friday night at Nat and Wanda’s. Even your text to them had been affected, only replying with short answers or failing to respond in the group chat altogether.
Before you knew it, the call ended, and for a moment, the only noise was your TV. 
“Open the door, Sweetheart,” you heard Bucky call out as the sound of knocking filled the apartment. 
You stood, wrapping your dressing gown tighter around your body, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves. “Hey,” you murmured as you opened the door. 
Bucky stood straight as he took in your complexion. Your eyes were red and tired, your cheeks stained with the previous stream of tears. Your smile was barely visible. 
“Are you okay?” his voice filled with concern as he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze searching yours for answers. His concern melted for your defenses as you found yourself collapsing into his embrace. The tears spilled once again as he held you tightly for a moment.
Without letting go of your frame, he picked you up, closed your apartment door, and carried you over to your couch. The scent of leather, smoke, and the bar enveloped your senses as you buried your face into his chest. Your sobs began to subdue as you sat with him. 
“He’s making my life miserable,” you mumbled against his Henley shirt as you managed to find your words. You felt his muscles tense around you, his breathing became heavier. 
You recounted the week’s worth of torment, each little detail painting a clear picture of John’s taunts. All the extra work, the humiliation.
Bucky never said a word, he listened to every word you said. His silence was more comforting than you thought it would be. His presence, arms wrapped around you all night, and the odd stroke of your hair or rub on your back, relaxed you.
Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep. Once Bucky had realized the steady rhythm of your breathing, he lifted you gently from the couch. He cradled you in his arms as he carried you through your apartment, careful not to wake you as he made his way to your bedroom. The exhaustion of the past week had finally taken its toll and you remained in a deep sleep. 
The familiarity of your space guided him through your apartment. Nudging the door open with his foot, the light from the hall cast a gentle glow across your room.
Laying you down on the bed with tender care, he rested your head comfortably on the pillow. Stirring slightly, Bucky pulled the covers over you, tucking you in. He stood by your bedside, eyes tracing the lines of your face. His anger towards John was simmering as the seconds passed, yet, in this quiet moment, his focus was on you.
Leaning down, he wiped a stray tear from your cheek and brushed a soft kiss against your forehead. Silently promising to protect you.
Standing he began to leave your room, closing the door slowly to not make a sound. “Goodnight, Bucky,” a soft murmur escaped your lips, but you weren’t awake. 
He stopped, standing in your doorway for another moment. “Goodnight, Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he closed the door behind him. 
---
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thehollowwriter · 3 days
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Warnings: Injury, swearing, probably full of mistakes. Word count: 5k+
Key: Regular text is for the present. Italics is for flashbacks, bold is for journal entries
(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)
Lamentations Pt 5
There is a term, more of a feeling, really, that humans use called "walking on air." An elated, fluffy feeling of delight.
I can't "walk" since I don't have legs, but that's a perfect way to describe how I felt when Morrigan kissed me that night. When he wrapped his arms around me and looked at me like I was the only thing that ever mattered to him.
I think about that moment a lot, when dusk settles into night and life slows down for a short moment. I think about how different things were all those years ago, how different I was.
Silas stopped writing and stared at the page for a long, long time. He found himself back in that dim, dingy shop, gazing into those bright, loving eyes. Those eyes... so intelligent, yet so innocent at the same time.
What had he done to deserve Morrigan, really? What could he have possibly done, in his life filled with death, to be blessed with such a loving man?
Silas pressed his pen against the paper again so hard he nearly broke the tip.
I'm... I'm not going to sit here and tell myself I'm a good person. I'm not. I have killed and eaten hundreds of my own kind in my lifetime, and I still do so today.
I have torn them apart and swallowed every piece until there is nothing but bone to indicate their existence. I've lied, cheated, and stolen whatever I possibly could to keep myself alive.
I am a murderer. A cannibal. A monster.
What is the worst Morrigan has done? Land some kids in the hospital as a teenager and nearly get expelled? Almost kill someone? Almost.
Morrigan, for his smugness and cockiness and aggression, for all his violence and rage, is not an evil person. He is not perfect, but he's not a monster.
I cannot truthfully say that Morrigan's parents' and the other citizens of Atlantica's fear and distrust of me is wrong. I cannot say they are being too quick to judge, that they just haven't taken the time to get to know me.
I fit the Abyssal merfolk stereotype like a glove. I'm the horror story spread when the lights go out brought to life.
I told this to Morrigan that night, after my grandfather had taken his medicine and gone to bed. I suppose you could call it a warning, a flashing sign telling him to leave.
He simply smiled me, sharp teeth glinting and eyes burning with passion and desire, and shrugged.
"I know," He said. "I'm not changing my mind. I love you."
It was stupid. Insane, even. And yet Morrigan spoke as if he were telling me the earth revolved around the sun. Like it was an unshakable fact, something that cannot be changed.
Oh... oh, how I love him.
Morrigan was surprised when Silaa began pulling him upstairs. He had never been on the second floor. For all their time together, he had been limited only to Silas' little shop.
Silas began calling for his grandfather, and the dopey grin that had been affixed to Morrigan's face was briefly replaced with a confused expression, but he schooled it quickly.
"Well, I've horribly misread the situation." He murmured so Silas couldn't hear, perking up when Silas' grandfather swam in with a yawn.
"Mm, Silas, is it time for that awful drink alr-" He stopped short when he caught sight of Morrigan, surpised. "Well, if it isn't our favourite city boy. I'm surprised Silas brought you up here."
He squinted at them, then gasped.
"Are those-"
"Yes," Said Silas, reaching to grab Morrigan's hand. "We are... together now."
Morrigan grinned and clasped their hands together. "I hope you don't mind me stealing your grandson, Mister Emrys, sir."
The old mer laughed and drifted over to them to take Morrigan's free hand in his own. "Why, of course not. You're perfect for Silas, my boy. You should stay the night with us. We can celebrate."
Morrigan's grin widened. "I'd like that, sir."
It was a lovely evening. Morrigan and my grandfather, Emrys, got along well. It made me happy to see them banter with each other.
My grandfather retired to bed after taking his home brewed medicine, bidding us goodnight and leaving us to our own devices.
There was nowhere for Morrigan to stay. No guest room, no lounge. There was the kitchen, my bedroom, and my grandfather's bedroom.
Morrigan didn't mind. In fact, he said he'd be happy to share with me with that grin of his. I considered nipping him for that, but I don't think he was trying to be funny.
It was nice, actually. Sitting together, tails intertwined, talking through the night. Morrigan held me tightly, as if I would drift away from him.
He was very affectionate, as I soon came to learn. Kisses, holding me, complimenting me, and so on. He always asked first, and he always seemed so gleeful every time.
I never expected to enjoy physical affection, but it seemed Morrigan was always the exception. I often found myself melting into his kisses and holding his hand tightly, feeling warm and safe.
Our new relationship altered our routine once again. Now, Morrigan visited as much as he could after his classes, greeting me with a kiss and hugging me gently when our games finished.
Then we would sit close together, our tails curled around each other, and just... talk. We often got distracted, though, finding ourselves kissing roughly and... well, perhaps I should write that down somewhere else.
I was delighted that he came over more. Morrigan's visits were the highlight of my week, after all. There was just one issue I unknowingly stumbled into.
Morrigan knew me well by the time we began dating. Almost too well. He knew my personality, my tics, my likes and dislikes, and so on. But even with our games and our long talks, there are things you miss when you only meet once a week.
I always made sure I was feeling or at least appearing to feel my best when Morrigan came round, even if hunger clawed at my insides and the pain that shot through my body made me feel as if I were being branded with an iron.
I wanted to have fun, and I didn't want Morrigan to worry.
I think I was also too cocky. I put too much faith in my own abilities, even though my health was probably the worst it had ever been.
This overconfidence came back to bite me when Morrigan and I got into a playful tussle one day and... well.... I broke a rib.
It wasn't Morrigan's fault, no. I could never blame him for that. It was mine. I had perfected the art of making myself seem stronger, bigger, or more threatening than I actually was for the sake of my own survival.
My magic was strong, yes, but it wasn't something I used often. It was precious, a resource only used for emergencies, even before I learned what blot was.
Silas winced at the word, then continued writing.
I was so convincing, it seemed, that I overestimated myself far more than Morrigan did.
A sickening crack wiped the smile from Morrigan's face, and he instantly released his pinhold on Silas. He carefully moved and turned Silas over, his eyes wide with horror and concern.
"Oh shit, oh shit, shit shit shit, Silas, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- oh, Sea Witch, how bad is it?"
"Ngh..." Silas blinked up at the rippling kelp above them, wincing at the mind numbing pain that exploded somewhere around his ribs. "I'm fine. Just a little... ngh, sore..."
Morrigan shook his head wildly, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Darling, no, I heard something break o-or fracture when I pinned you, oh no, what did I do to you-"
Darling. Morrigan said, "darling." Not Silas. Darling.
Silas didn't know why, but that made him incredibly happy, even though the situation didn't really call for such a feeling.
Morrigan, still alarmed, carefully hoisted Silas into his arms. "We need to get you to a- a doctor or a hospital or something-"
Silas' hand shot up to grip Morrigan's wrist tightly.
"No doctors." He hissed, struggling to take in a breath.
"Silas, your rib is broken-"
"And my grandfather will help me treat it. I've dealt with worse. Take me inside."
Morrigan bit back a protest and obeyed, swimming inside and placing Silas down on his bed.
"Just call my grandfather, please," Silas mumbled, wincing.
Morrigan didn't answer at first. He stared at Silas for a moment, tapping his claws together, and swallowed.
"I really think you should go to the hospital."
"No hospitals."
"Silas, you could end up with a pierced lung!" Morrigan snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I never said anything because you seemed fine, and I didn't want to pry into something so personal, but... even without a broken rib, which I will repeat is very bad, you and Emrys should go to the hospital. Should have gone, actually. Long ago."
Silas laughed, taking in a sharp breath at the pain. "Hah, for what?"
Morrigan raked his left hand through his hair and clenched his right one into a fist. "Both of you are skin and bones, literally! I can see your ribs, Silas! That's not normal! Have you been eating anything at all?"
Silas let out a soft sigh. "I... I have a few scraps a day. Eating anything more... makes me throw up. Grandfather as well."
"That's even worse! You need to go to the hospital, both of, you or something-"
"I said no hospitals." Silas growled.
"Why not?"
"Morrigan, please. ...I... I can't. You think a doctor would want to help us?"
I suppose you could call a distrust of doctors a family tradition in a way. Not a single one of us trusted medical professionals, not because we thought they didn't know anything, but because we feared what they could do when given access to us at our most vulnerable.
I trust Morrigan with my life, however. I trust he will protect us and ensure nothing happens while we are in such a strange place.
The first obstacle was convincing my grandfather to go, too. He did not have the same amount of faith in Morrigan as I did. His history ran deeper than mine, after all.
My grandfather's grandmother was a child when our family was forcefully driven out of the Coral Sea and into the Abyss. The horror stories of before and after were passed down to him, and then he passed them unto my parents and to me.
Unlike me or my parents, my grandfather had a clear memory of my great great-grandmother's face when she told him of her experiences. He, young and impressionable, could see the fear glistening in her eyes, the way she seemed to be taken back to those moments, reliving the terror all over again.
There is a little saying, a proverb, she passed down to us. It was short, but it said all it needed to.
"They will hate you with a veil kindness. They will smile at you and fill your veins with poison."
And really, what else would such a saying do other than strike fear into your heart?
My grandfather was horrified at the very idea of going into Atlantica, never mind the hospital. It was the closest thing the two of us had ever had to a fight.
I told him Morrigan would protect us, and if he were to fail, I would make sure we got out and home safe. He needed to get better, or else he wouldn't last the rest of the season.
My grandfather eventually agreed, saying that it was only because he wanted me to recover safely, and then we began our trip to the city.
This experience was well over thirty years ago. My recollection of most of the events is fuzzy, but the little details aren't too important anyway.
What is important is the fact that we ended up staying in that hospital for a very long time, as there was far more wrong with us than even Morrigan could have guessed.
It was a very distressing experience. I was surrounded by doctors and nurses taking my temperature, asking me invasive questions, poking and prodding at me, shining lights into my eyes, and pricking me for blood.
Morrigan had to hold me back from breaking someone's face when they wanted to draw my blood for testing, telling me it was going to be okay and to let them do their thing.
I hated it. I hated it so much. It was a terrifying experience, and it is not often I feel genuine terror. But they... they just carried on, like it was your average weekday. Cold. Uncaring.
It didn't help that I barely understood half of what they said. Medical jargon. Utter nonsense.
Morrigan's doctor, the one he told me he trusted, did her best to make sure I was comfortable. She noticed I was confused and started slowly explaining what they were doing to me.
I don't know if she was genuinely trying to help or talking down to me, but either way, it did help. I felt better understanding what was happening to me.
There was... so much wrong with me. The doctors were surprised I hadn't died of malnutrition, but concluded my magic had something to do with my survival
I could never figure out why I kept throwing up food if I tried to fix my own starvation. It made me angry that I finally had a steady stream of food but couldn't actually eat much of it.
As it turns out, it is because of something called Refeeding Syndrome. Medical complications caused by aggressive nutritional rehabilitation. That is, too much nutrition at once after a prolonged period of starvation.
The best way to treat our malnutrition was by feeding tubes. Slowly giving us the nutrients we were lacking in a controlled environment. Morrigan had to hold me back again, as the idea of these strangers sticking a tube into me and pumping my body full of fluids terrified me.
I can't remember exactly how long we were in that hospital, but I do remember my recovery was slow and painful. Morrigan stayed by my side the entire time, making sure I was alright and using his magic to block my own when it lashed out when I caught sight of a needle.
There was an issue when we realised that neither I nor my grandfather had any form of identification. No ID, no birth certificates, nothing. Just our names, and we had no last name we could recall.
I distinctly remember a nurse muttering, "This is what happens when you leave them to breed down there." Morrigan shot her a look so dark it seemed to make the lights flicker, and she shut her mouth.
When we were healthy enough to move around and eat solid foods again, we had to do physical therapy. It was something that irritated me, even if I was glad to no longer be confined to a bed.
Being led around and told what to do by a stranger like I was a child made me feel the urge to throttle someone. Morrigan... Morrigan calmed me down, though. He was good at that. Rubbing my hand with his thumb and whispering words of comfort to me.
The worst was the psychiatrists. Morrigan couldn't stay with me during those little sessions, and I was trapped alone with a bored shrink who quite clearly didn't want me there.
It was quite obvious how they felt. I was taking up what could have been a free slot. I was taking time away from city merfolk.
They, the psychiatrists and the doctors, and the nurses, thought I was stupid. I know they did. It was soaked into their tones, bleeding out from behind plastic smiles.
Staying there was a terrible experience. I hated it, even if Morrigan's doctor tried her best to make things better. However... I don't regret it.
I still clearly remember looking into the mirror in the hospital bathroom one day and seeing the true colour of my skin for the first time.
It took me by surprise. My whole life, I had been a dull lilac-grey. But in that bathroom, I saw I was a deep flourishing purple. I spent ages tracing my skin and picking at my scales, entranced.
"You look amazing," Morrigan said to me, wrapping his arms around me. "Big I'm just glad you're healing."
My grandfather, who always appeared to be a dull brown-ish hue, was sunset orange. It left the two of us in awe, taking in the vibrant colours indicative of healthy skin.
It's strange how you sometimes only realise the extent of your problems after you've healed or gotten away from them.
When we were finally discharged, I had never felt so alive. My ribs no longer showed, my body no longer screamed with constant pain, and my insides no longer felt like they were being torn apart.
This sudden strength, this sudden joy and energy, made me realise just how much pain I was always in. How sick I was. I was one mishap away from a death that had nothing to do with starvation or being eaten, and I didn't even know it.
I was, unfortunately, instructed to "take it easy" for a few weeks until I could get back to hunting.
I couldn't do that. I had work to do, bills to pay. Morrigan could cover medical costs, but he couldn't also pay for my house and my staff's wages. I couldn't risk so much as a cent.
"It'll be okay, Si." Morrigan said to me with that warm smile of his. "You can still tell your party what to do. You just can't join them."
Morrigan was always optimistic.
My full recovery was much quicker than expected, but still very boring and nerve-wracking. Spending all my time inside, flitting about the shop, or lying on my stone slab of a bed, staring at the ceiling, was mind-numbing.
My grandfather was not so lucky. He still spent much of his time sleeping even though he was healthier now. His health always was much worse off than mine.
"We think Emrys was exposed to an oil spill," said Morrigan's doctor, whose name I can't remember. "His magic cleared most of it, but it still caused erosion on his fins and enlarged his liver."
It didn't help that he was nearing eighty. Merfolk can live much longer than that, but when your body has taken so much damage, that lifespan is cut short.
I looked after him the best I could. Helping him eat, giving him his prescribed medicine, thar sort off thing.
It was pretty miserable. The only thing that made it bearable was the music from the radio and Morrigan's visits.
He brought sweets for us. Can you believe it? Candies. Chocolate. Fron the surface.
"A friend from land sent it down," Morrigan said with a grin, unwrapping a bar and handing it to Silas. "A congratulations and a get well soon mixed together. Don't worry, the doctors said it's okay."
Silas blinked at him questioningly, and Morrigan quickly clarified.
"Oh, right. I told a few friends I'm officially taken... and that my new boyfriend was unfortunately in hospital. They sent this stuff down as good wishes."
Silas hummed, an amused smile crossing onto his face, and took a tiny bite out of the small piece of chocolate he broke off the slab. It was delicious.
Silas' grandfather politely declined Morrigan's offering of chocolate, telling the two to enjoy it and that he was going to lie down for a while.
Silas stared at the chocolate in his hand, and his eyes suddenly felt very wet.
"I don't... I don't think he's going to be with us for much longer." He said softly. Morrigan pulled him into a tight hug, and Silas tried his hardest not to cry.
It's nice to be cared for. Morrigan visited every second day to make sure we were alright. It was annoying to me that he didn't let me fight him, but I understood his reasoning.
When I was finally cleared to hunt again, the first thing I did was challenge Morrigan to a fight. I won, and I'm partially sure be let me, but I don't mind.
He looked ethereal, laughing in delight, covered in bruises and bitemarks, with his hair splayed out on the sand. Happy. Happy I was finally healthy.
This whole experience brought on a new issue. Morrigan had not yet told his parents we were dating at the time. I didn't care whether he told them or not, as it wasn't their business, but it was strange to see him stress over it so much.
I told him if they had a problem, then they weren't worth his time, and he just laughed. It sounded hollow.
He couldn't keep us secret forever, of course, especially since he took time off to stay with me while I was in the hospital.
He eventually told them a few months after I began hunting again. The day he did, he came storming into my shop, not even bothering with our game.
Silas perked up at Morrigan's presence, frowning when he saw the state he was in.
Morrigan was breathing hard, fists clenching and unclenching angrily. There was a raging fire, a maliciousness sparking in his magic that made Silas' skin prickle in all the best ways.
"What happened?" Silas didn't ask out loud, but his questioning and concerned look said all it needed to.
Morrigan looked at him, and his aquamarine eyes burned.
"You know what she said?" He asked, his voice set to a whisper, almost trembling. "She fucking said 'no'. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I'm not asking for her permission or- or approval. And dad, Seven damn it, shaking his head like I've broken some fucking rule-"
Morrigan was on the verge of hyperventilating and Silas drifted over to wrap his arms arms around him and press his face into the crook of his neck.
Morrigan stiffened in surpise, then relaxed. He rested his chin on Silas' head and sighed.
"Sorry, darling. They're- my parents- not happy. But I'm not breaking it off so they want to meet you. Next week."
I was never unaware of meeting the family as a custom. It is a custom we even have in the abyss, if you're lucky to find a partner.
However, something that still perplexes me today about both Coral Sea and apparently land culture is the idea that you have to consider your partners family your own, and you must get along at all costs. If you dislike them, you smile and tolerate it.
Perhaps I don't understand it because keeping up appearances and faking getting along was a waste of energy in the abyss. If you didn't like a family member's partner, you could say so and carry on.
That's why I always felt so confused whenever Morrigan complained about his sister-in-law, muttering about how she got on his nerves with her smart alek quips and obnoxious way of talking.
"Then tell her that." I told him, and he looked at me like I was insane.
"I can't say that! She's my sister!'
"She's your sister's wife, not your sister. She doesn't need a free pass."
I think my way of thinking was part of the reason he avoided telling his parents about us for so long. I'm not offended, though. I never was.
There is... a trope in movies and TV I've come to notice. The overbearing in-laws. It's very strange to me, parents who are so obsessive and controlling over their adult children and, by extension, their children's partner.
I found it stupid and unealistic at the time. Who would behave like that? Who would try to take control of a wedding or decide their word is law in someone else's marriage?
Well, the answer to that would be Morrigan's parents.
They don't like me and I don't like them. They are not my parents or my family, not matter how much they insist they are.
I disliked them before I even met them. The snippets of how they treated Morrigan like their trophy I caught onto, the way they seemed to unashamedly hate me already, that was telling enough for me to dislike them.
I was unsure about meeting Morrigan's parents at first. They refused to come to Midway, instead insisting I come to them.
"I'll keep my exposure to the abyss limited to just the butcher, thank you," Morrigan relayed to Silas in a high-pitched voice, mocking his mother. "At least then we'll have a lesser chance of being infected with something."
Infected. Infected, she had said, in a snobbish upper-class accent, at least according to Morrigan. As if I were diseased.
Still, it was best to bite the bullet and just go see them. We made the trip there the next week, leaving at sunset to travel to a suburb near the heart of Atlantica.
I felt uncomfortable the entire trip there. The streets were busy even at night, bustling and noisy, lit with all too bright lights from advertisements and streetlights.
We finally arrived at a quaint house constructed from stone and metal. It was big, at least to me, and quite fancy.
"Hey, mother, father," Morrigan called out, unlocking and opening the front door. "We're here."
"Hello, Morrigan," came an aged voice, feminine and shrill. "And... you."
A small, thin woman with saggy skin and pursed lips stared at Silas with turquoise eyes as cold as ice. Her hair was silvery white, and her skin and scales were pink.
Silas silently stared back until her resolve wavered, and her gaze turned elsewhere, and she gestured for them to come inside.
"They're here, then?" Came a louder, deeper voice. Morrigan's father blinked at them with a pair of bright gold eyes. He was also thin, his skin the same deep green as Morrigan, but it didn't suit him. It was ill-fitting.
"Mother, father," Morrigan said slowly, sounding much quieter than usual. "This is Silas. Silas, this is Cyrus and Kiran, my parents."
Cyrus and Kiran stared at Silas, picking him apart, narrowing their eyes at every scar, every hole in his fins, every little imperfection.
Silas stared back. They were thin but not too thin. They were unnmarred, perfectly comfortable. Well-fed.
Weak. Spoiled. Prey.
Kiran cleared his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Silas." He said, like a liar. "I hope our Morrigan isn't too much for you."
Silas didn't answer, and an awkward silence fell.
"Well," Cyrus said suddenly. "I suppose we should thank you for your services these past few years. Buying from you has been a big help financially."
Silas nodded his head and continued to gaze at them. Morrigan gently elbowed his side, and he blinked.
"Ah- it's... no issue."
The silence descended again, and they all floated there, staring at each other. Morrigan's parents were quite clearly uncomfortable with Silas there, neither coming near him nor looking him in the eyes.
"I must ask," Cyrus said after a while, her icy eyes glimmering. "Why are you dating Morrigan? I didn't think someone like him would pique the interest of... someone like you."
She tried to phrase it so politely. As if it were a mere difference in culture. But Silas knew what she meant.
"Because I love him," Silas rumbled. "That's reason enough, I'm sure."
"W-Well yes, but surely there are other factors-"
"No."
Cyrus looked taken aback by Silas' curt response, exchanging an aghast look with her husband.
"T-That's good, I suppose. Make yourselves comfortable, I'm making a prawn salad for a light meal. Kiran, you can get the wine out, and Keres, stop lurking over there and say hi to your brother."
Another mer, pink with dark blue scales and fins, swam into the living room with a huff. His hair was white with dark blue highlights, and his gold eyes glistened in annoyance.
Morrigan started, looking between this new mer and his parents.
"What's he doing here?"
Keres pulled his lips into an exaggerated pout. "Come on, Morrigan, that's no way to greet your little brother." He said, his voice dripping with manufactured sadness. "I'm just here for a visit to our loving parents. And to meet the lucky guy."
He waved at Silas and grinned. "Hi there. Keres Clearcove. Second oldest of the our clutch. Nice to meet you."
Silas blinked at him, unsure of how to answer, and Cyrus laughed. "Oh we'll let you three chat for a bit." She said, grabbing Kiran and making a swift exit.
"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit today." Morrigan hissed at Keres. "You've said hello, now go away."
Keres raised his hands, looking offended. "Sorry, Your Highness. Forgive me for forgetting my place. Just the lowly brother of special great mage Morrigan."
"That's not what I meant-"
"I'm sure it wasn't." Keres smiled. "Let's not fight in front of your man. Though I doubt it'll affect him much, considering his... background."
Morrigan drew his lips back threateningly, and Silas gently touched his arm. "Calm down. I'm sure Keres knows better than to run his mouth."
Silas stared at the mer in question until he swallowed and nodded his head. "Y-Yeah, of course! I'm not looking for trouble. In fact, I'm here to tell mother and father about a new client of mine."
"Client?" Silas glanced at Morrigan.
"He's a lawyer." Morrigan muttered.
"Indeed I am." Keres said proudly. "While Morrigan here babysits magic wielding brats all day, I consistently work with very high calibre and high paying clients to buy nice things for my children. I recently scored a CEO. Can you believe it?"
Morrigan's eye twitched, and Silas decided against answering.
"Tough crowd. Well, I'll be on my way to hide in my room while you-" Keres pointed at Silas. "-get scrutinised down to the tiniest detail and hounded about babies. Have fun."
He then left as quickly as he arrived, before either of them could respond.
"What a brat," Morrigan hissed, looking more irritated than Silas had ever seen him.
Keres was not wrong, unfortunately. I was, in fact, scrutinised down to the last detail, asked questions that ranged from odd all the way to invasive and rude. The topic of children was briefly brought up, though Cyrus expressed poorly hidden disgust at the idea and recommended adoption instead. As if we were planning to have children at all.
It was worse than the doctors at Atlantica General, I dare say. At least they weren't asking about my fertility since they "wanted grandchildren from their eldest."
Morrigan seemed to be on the verge of either punching someone or slamming his head against the wall the entire time but opted to dig his claws into the dining room table and grind his teeth instead.
Silas couldn't blame him. The fake kindness, the mock sympathy, the plastic hospitality made his teeth itch to bite something. He wanted them to stop lying. Call him a monster if they really wanted. He hated those forced smiles so much
Finally, finally, the conversation was coming to an end, when Cyrus said... something rather odd. And stupid.
"Listen, Silas, you seem... Nice." The lies kept spilling. Flowing out of her mouth like a winding river. "But we don't want you dating Morrigan. It isn't safe-"
"That's not for you to decide." Said Silas, and Morrigan sucked in a sharp breath and nearly tore through the table.
The facade cracked and Cyrus' face twisted into an angered expression.
"Now listen here, I will not have our son bee manipulated by-
"Shut up!" Morrigan snapped, wrenching his hand back and tearing through the table. "If you can't behave then we're going to leave."
"Come now, Morrigan, think carefully about this." Said Kiran. "You know, the merchant's son is a nice young man-"
"I said shut up." Morrigan tugged on Silas' wrist and began making his way to the door. "Come on, Silas."
Morrigan stayed with us that night, fuming silently. He wasn't just angry. He was hurt. Very hurt. I did my best to comfort him, though I don't think it was much help.
Unfortunately, that was not nor will it ever be the last time Morrigan and I clashed with his parents. They're a stubborn pair, hellbent on getting what they want even if they repeatedly fail.
They won't ever truly accept me as Morrigan's husband, and I can accept that. They can continue being hateful cretins, and I will carry on as I always have.
A knock on the door broke Silas from his writing trance. He put his pen down and took in a deep, slow breath. Even writing about Morrigan's parents gave him a headache.
"Coming, Timo." He called, then packed his writing away and left.
...........................................
Guide: Start, Prev
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It really was a wild ride
Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle
@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker
@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline
@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy
@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch
@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord
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antiendovents · 22 days
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i just wanna make another post addressing the whole issue of the vent that told pro endos to kill themselves (link to original post here, link to response / explanation post here)
I just wanted to say that one; I do not condone harassment or telling people to actually kill themselves (I mentioned this in the tags of the original post but I'm not sure if I made it clear enough), by that I mean I don't support people actually going to pro endo blogs and telling them they should kill themselves and stuff. But, I also do not support harassing people for "thought crimes". Sure, it's not the nicest thing to wish death upon those you hate, but as someone with NPD who does this quite frequently in my head I kind of understand it. And I'd rather that person come here to vent their frustrations than say actually go around telling people to do it. You get me?
Two; this is a vent blog, made for frustration at it's core. We made this blog because endos made us mad. They made us frustrated and upset and hurt. So we made this blog for us and other anti endos to vent their anger about it, and that's what we'll allow. We have said multiple times we do not condone harassment nor do we condone actually telling people to kill themselves, but if you wish to come here and vent about it and about how you feel then you are welcome to do so.
And finally, about the delusional statement; I don't agree with that either. I don't believe delusional should be used as an insult but I feel it's important to recognise that they likely didn't mean it in that way or maybe didn't even know it was a insult.
I don't know, I'm not them and I can't comment on their actions or why they did what they did, but I can comment on why I posted it, which is because well, that's what this blog is made for. I'm sorry if you were hurt by their words, I can promise I didn't intend to hurt others, but this is a vent blog and while yes I do like to keep some things light hearted here it's also important to understand that well. As I've said. It's a vent blog.
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decamarks · 2 years
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@mysticetus's rainer for art fight... i've admired this design for a while now and i'm really glad i got an excuse to make something with it =D
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turbocao · 9 months
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I started my very first sewing project two days ago. I think it's going to be a complete disaster but I kinda don't care. At least so far. This shit is so therapeutic. Idk if it's because I'm a beginner but it requires my full focus in a way knitting doesn't. Every moment I have to concentrate on what I'm doing and it doesn't leave my brain any space to think about anything else. I love it. And it's so fun too. Even when I fuck up it's fun. I had to stop because I couldn't get the zigzag stitch right even after lots of tries and I wasn't even mad. It's just fun.
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redxriiot · 1 year
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Upon becoming a father, Ei would absolutely ensure he’s the most present parent possible for his kid(s). The worst possible thing in the world for him would be to miss something important of theirs ( milestones, school presentations, etc ); he would absolutely take it quite badly, even if the kid reassures him it’s okay/unavoidable.
#hc#//His old man was either too busy working or; in most cases after some time; actively avoiding him then later him AND his mom#//His mama pushed him away more often than not as a kid; then later most of their interactions were either super good or outright arguments#//But he'd strive most to be like his childhood bestie's parents; or have a family like that#//Is why he wouldn't be content having just one kid; tbh#//Bc in times he can't be there; as much as it'd hurt him not to be; then he can count on the kiddos being there for each other too#//Mans would move the WORLD for family#//Is so desperate and wanting to create the warmest most supportive one; everything he could have ever wanted#//Once things get better between him and his mama; he won't hesitate in asking her to move in with him too#//So his kiddos can get to know their grandmama; so she can catch up on the kid years she missed with him/do 'em properly#//And ofc so he can bond with her again; bc more than anything; he just rlly loves his mama and wants to make sure she's happy#//That he can 'repay' her for all the 'trouble' she went through raising him; esp since his dad didn't really help in that respect#;Mun has spoken#//I leave out mentions of partners; bc it's v ambiguous. Like; he likes the idea of having kids; with a partner or not#//And he wouldn't exactly be actively looking to get with someone once he does have kids prior to getting one#//Esp considering the main idea I have of him and how he gets Tatsu; he's generally going to start his Pro verse already with a kid#//Minus certain already set/plotted Pro verse ideas; but yeah; previous tag is the set plan for the Pro verse#//Anywho; he wouldn't be so inclined bc his main priority would shift to his Family; and making sure he doesn't repeat past mistakes#//Would even go as far as to let them have the final say if he should get with someone bc if his kids don't like them; why even pursue them?#//Tends to over-focus on them; could possibly burn himself in the process if he's not careful#//But he'd see it as worth it. Bc no matter how tired or upset he is; his kids would be the fucken lights of his life#//He'd NEVER be too tired or otherwise unable to vibe with them if offered the chance#//His mama (or close friends) would deffo help if they pitched in a bit. Like; pushing him to rest while they look after the kiddos#//Makes au's like Kit and my gumsquad idea so nice tbh#//Or having the bakusquad all raise their kids as close besties#//Bc everyone can pitch in and take care of the kiddos; and Ei gets the big happy fam he's always wanted without fearing the kids'll go#without the love they deserve. Bc there's many parents on hand to help; bc they have childhood friends to hang with/support#//Everything he truly wanted for himself#//it's v idealistic; yes; but he wanted/wants it so bad; and would want it for his kid(s) as well#//Not ashamed to say this was brought on bc of a game I've been playing (why I've been sparse here oops) and GAH; it hit right in the muse
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slippery-minghus · 7 months
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sometimes i look at things my mom has done... simple tasks.... and i see where the intellectual delays/disability i fought tooth and nail to overcome growing up came from.... 💀
#no joke my mother is the stupidest person i've ever met#like not even trying to be mean (much)#personal#so like. before she left she wanted to know if there was anything she could do for me that would be helpful#so i asked her to fill my pill cases - i have two for my nightly meds so i only have to fill them twice a month#i take four meds at night. one of each. pretty straightforward#...right?#but this woman is incapable of any sort of planning-forethought#so even though i explained it clearly i realized as i was explaining it that it mightve been too complicated a task for her#(how this woman survived this long i don't know. sheer boomer hutzpah i guess)#but she has a huge complex about being made to feel incompetent so i left her to figure it out#and lo and behold#it's a DAMN good thing i always actually LOOK at what just poured out from the case before i take it#(bc i'm not immune to mistakes either but... i'm just. careful not to make them to begin with.)#(and there's one med i cant skip and another that if i accidentally take two i'll be so ill i can't go to work)#so. i check.#and fucking hell. i've had to rearrange the contents of both cases and have had uneven amounts in each#like HOW is it too hard to count out 14 pills#to do that four times and drop them one at a time into a little box#i know she wouldve had her glasses on and was in a well lit space so that was no excuse#just like#it frustrates me bc this is exactly why i developed my own tendencies to be so careful#bc if i wasn't and just took the handful of pills that was due to pop out in a few days? i'd be fucked and wouldnt know why#i'm so frustrated by this bc it's just such a glaring reminder of the incompetence i was raised under and had to learn very early on#not only to compensate for but also to expertly dance around and never point out lest mother's mental house of cards catch a slight draft#and crumble to the ground#she KNOWS she's incompetent and makes sure everyone ELSE knows it too but donT YOU DARE treat her like she's incompetent#you'd better make sure yo give her tasks she's not up for! and then when she does a shit job you better not outwardly acknowledge it's shit!#even though you both know that it is!!!#fucking hell no wonder i'm so afraid of acting w/o deliberate care + attention!! bc look at the disgusting outcomes that happen if you dont!
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nicoliine · 4 months
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About the times when Alastor touched you and when he expected you to do it back.
☆彡 How in the world does the radio demon, who doesn't really like physical contact, end up looking for any excuse to have his hands on you?
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 ☆ Reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.
☆ Warnings: not really. Does a mental breakdown count as a warning? Alastor is a warning itself yk.
☆ English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake I sorry-
 
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You noticed that Alastor didn't like people's proximity when you first arrived at the hotel and he didn't even try to shake your hand. There, with your hand on the air, you stand waiting for his shake as you observe his ramblings about a whole different subject—not that you mind about all the weird souls that can be met in hell—watching him around the other hotel staff, you confirm it.
 
After a couple of days in the hotel and witnessing his power display, you made a mental note to not mess with him. That being said, you didn't really want to touch him.
You were a very touchy person, content to hug Pentious when you first saw him around in the morning or cuddle on the couch with Angel before he started to make a lewd comment about his job and you just ended up leaving him alone. Nifty seemed to enjoy being all over you, sitting on your shoulders while you were reading or just playing with your hair.
 
Another one who was happy about your touchy personality was Charlie, but she is just happy about everything.
 ☆◦•◦☆
It started a month from your arrival.
Alastor, being a self-proclaimed gentleman, didn't seem to be aware of your not touching Alastor rule, he started holding the door open for you then creating a shadow to lift up that heavy box that you needed to move, and you ended up—it was hard for you—just trying to move up your body away so you didn't end up too close to him, but he seemed to love your personal space so much.
 
One time, you were in the hallway, not really aware of your surroundings, until you felt an arm around your shoulders. When you heard his static voice, you froze on your steps, slowly turning your head to see him there, standing with that so-known smile of his. When he started to walk, still holding you, talking about that great idea for the hotel, you just couldn't pay so much attention. Your mind is running on thoughts about his proximity.
This wasn't the only time he ended up having you close to him; being honest, it seems to have a personal liking to your presence. You doubt he was like that before your arrival (as you already spoke with Charlie about it), but he could be found anywhere you were. If you ended up helping fix the balcony fence, he was there behind you—you're glad he's at least silent—or when you are in the bar just scrolling through your phone and he is watching you from the other side of the room, not wanting to be near your technology artifacts, is he just trying to drive you mad? Even though that look of his seems to be asking for something you don't know, you won't ask what it is. Just wait to see how it goes.
 
His touch soon became more frequent. You often end up with your own theory that it's something involuntary, like something he doesn't even notice by the way it feels, like deep in the end he just wants to be touched but don't know how to ask for it. But with that demon, nothing is sure; everything he does used to be planned. That's why you found yourself confused and don't want to test your luck.
 
When you are in the lobby in the middle of one of Charlie's activities and his arm ends up holding you by his side.
Or when he just kisses the back of your hand every time you first see him in the morning and every time he leaves, no exceptions, that confusing look of his is always there.
Just about that, your hands—he often takes your hands. While you are in the kitchen and waiting for the pasta on the stove, one of your hands is resting on the counter as you hold a recipe book, reading the next steps. He's by your side the whole time; one of his hands takes your free hand, making you pause your reading and look at him in surprise for the sudden action. He says nothing, and both of you are standing there in silence until you have to go back to cook. However, he doesn't seem to want to let you go yet because he will follow you as you move around the kitchen.
 
From them, it seems that everyone is aware of this weird Alastor thing.
Nobody talks about it though—you are surprised as they have stayed out of the subject, just making silent bets about the cause of this behavior of his—but you know it wouldn't take long for someone to talk about it.
 
 ☆◦•◦☆
The last time he put his hands on you, you were scared. So much has passed since the last time you felt this way. Anxious and terrified, everything around you was spinning; you had to run away from the hotel activities all day.
When Alastor found you in your room, you were a mess, all your stuff scattered around the room. You saw him from your seat in a corner on the other side of the room; the only candle in the nightstand seemed to be dead soon. He just stood there in front of you; you didn't even try to look up at him, just his shoes. You can tell so much about someone else by his shoes; his shoes seemed almost perfectly clean even after destroying his enemies. He's such a collected person that it scares you.
 
"Why, dear, would you look at me?" Alastor surely doesn't enjoy being ignored; you know that. You just couldn't find the strength to move when he spoke to you. It passed almost 5 minutes before you turned your head up, and he was so patient with you the whole time. "What is that troubling your mind, dear?"
 
You didn't respond right away; you're not sure how much time passed until you did it.
 
"It's just... everything." Your hands run around your face as you try not to have an attack right away in front of him. "I'm so scared, Alastor."
 
He just smiled; nothing was said; he didn't even try to touch your shoulder or hold you; he just smiled with that now so common smile of his, —you could swear it was the biggest smile you had seen on his face —one of his arms extended to you.
You have no idea why you did what you did; maybe he asked you directly, or you imagined it all, or his eyes showed what he wanted, or the candle in your room was one of Angel's drugs, or you just simply had a death wish. You don't know.
But you hugged him—just a hug—so hard that you could break his bones. When you took conscience about what you were doing, you tried to back down, not knowing how he could react to your contact.
But he didn't let you; his arm took you by the waist, and his staff was forgotten on the ground when he held your head against his shoulder.
 
You now understand why he always touched you. While you hands grabbed fists of his coat, he held you so tight, like it wasn't enough, and you just needed to be closer to him forever; he didn't want anything else.
So he did, he didn't let you go for a single moment that night; even when you were in bed, he held your hand the whole time. He just let you go the next morning when Vaggie insisted he needed to go do his job, even so he wouldn't forget to kiss your hand before he left. The ghost of his touch accompanied you all the time; it was like your body grew so used to his presence and his touch that you could feel it as a part of you.
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Touch Starved! Alastor folks!!! Alastor is such an interesting character to write! I want ro respect him so bad.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
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ghostgirl101 · 2 months
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
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You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
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elllisaaa · 5 months
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skz and their kinks
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-> pairing : skz x fem!reader
-> words count : 5.8k
-> genre : pure smut, what kinks i think the skz members have
-> warnings : dirty talk, swearing, use of 'slut', 'whore', 'doll', 'babygirl', 'kitten', 'princess', 'angel', 'good boy' and 'fucktoy', rough sex, spanking, impact play, dacraphylia, degradation kink, marking, biting, oral (m. and f. receiving), teasing, overstimulation, edging, thigh riding, lingerie, praise kink, size kink, public/semi-public sex, bondage, shibari, voice kink, fingering, dry humping, breeding kink, creampie, choking (giving and receiving), sex toys, hair pulling, begging, pain kink.
+ the way i'm depicting skz members does not represent them, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist
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BANGCHAN
DIRTY TALK
→ look at him flirting and teasing stays all the time, it's obvious he'll like to do the same with you in the bedroom. he loves seeing you squirm and whine because of his words only, enjoying how his voice alone can make you wither and beg. kinda fuel his ego too, how he just needs to tell you you're a whore - his whore - to get you on your knees. he sometimes adds a touch of degradation to the mix, smirking at himself when you clench around him tighter. 
"my needy little slut, can't even wait one hour for me to finish my work you have to touch yourself. are you that desperate for my cock doll ?"
→ he also loves to explain all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he wants to have you. and that reduces you to a babbling mess every time, anticipating the pleasure you know you’re going to receive. chan loves to know that he can almost bring you to an orgasm without even touching you and just by reminding you how good he can make you feel. 
"and then, i'm going to fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name. got it little whore ?"
SPANKING
→ part of the hard!dom channie agenda and i'm always here for it. like yes, he can be the best service!dom ever, but piss him off a little too much and it's over for you. he'll bend you over the armrest of the couch, flipping up your cute little skirt just to find your panties already soaked in your arousal. i swear he’ll let out the most sinful groans at the view.
"bet you got on my fucking nerves just for me to punish you doll, didn't you ?"
→ he wasn't waiting for an answer, and you figured it out as he landed his hand for the first time on your ass, the sound echoing through the room along with your broken moans. you loved the burn on your cheeks, loved feeling chan's large figure standing behind you like a silent threat. and he loved how your skin was getting more and more sensitive and red as he spanked you a couple more times, reminding you every now and then to follow his orders.
"you're losing count again babygirl. don't forget what I said. ten and I'll let you get my cock, understood ?"
MIRROR SEX
→ chan is a simp for your body. literally praises you every time he gets to admire you. and if you're ever insecure about any parts of you, he'll be there to compliment them specifically and make you feel better about your complex. and one of his favourite way of showing you how much he loves every one of your curves is to fuck you in front of a mirror. repeating over and over how beautiful and perfect you are while he got you moaning his name.
"- look at you baby. I said look at you. that's it babygirl. see, you take me so well. fuck... it's like you were made for me."
→ and all you could do was agreeing with him. he'll force you to repeat his words, or else, he'll stop and leave you crying for his cock until you said what he wanted. he also loves to see your teary eyes through the reflection of the mirror, desperation pouring out of them. loves to make you see how much of an effect you have on him too. 
"you're so perfect, you're going to make me cum."
LEE MINHO
DACRAPHYLIA
→ he's very passionate when it comes to sex. and that means he often gets a little rough (not that you're complaining), but he doesn't always realize that it may be too much for you, especially at the start of your relationship. that's how you ended up with tears rolling down your cheeks, with minho between your legs, far too lost in the taste of your sweet cunt to carefully listen to you. only when you sobbed did he notice your watery eyes and ragged breathing. you thought that would deter him, but that's when he clearly discovered a new kink of his.
"is that already too much for you kitten ? can't wait to watch how you'll cry for my cock then."
→ and you see that grin of his ? yeah, that's definitely how he's looking at you everytime you start crying for him. from now on, minho discovered a new goal whenever the two of you fuck : make those tears spill out from your beautiful eyes again and again. hearing your broken sobs makes him groan louder every time, it’s like music. minho would be so cocky about it, cooing at you everytime he sees tears gathering in your eyes. 
“are you crying again kitten ? so cute, my little crybaby cannot handle being fucked that good.”
MARKING
→ for me, minho is not jealous that easily, but he is really possessive, only proud to show off that you’re his. always has his hands on you when you’re out with him. so another way of signaling that you’re taken is by littering your whole body with marks. and we all know that he loves teasing, so it’ll be a good way to tease you to slowly suck and kiss every inch of your body. he’ll get you whining before he even reaches your pussy.
“purple really is your color baby, you’re so pretty like this…”
→ also discovered that he kinda loves having your marks on him too. for example, one time you kissed his cheeks before going out with your friends and left a lipstick stain on his skin. minho couldn’t help but smile to himself when he saw that in the mirror. also very cocky about waking up with the imprint of your nails on his back or to hickeys covering his neck, he wouldn’t resist the urge to make snarky remarks (but really, he’s so proud of them, don’t stop doing that).
“i’ll have to mark you again for us to match, what do you think ?"
OVERSTIMULATION
→ goes with dacryphilia because that’s the easiest way to get tears from you, and also just loves to see you fall apart under his touch. minho has pretty hands and he knows how to use them to make you cum at least three times before he even fucks you. and when he finally does put it in, you’re so tight he has to restrain himself from blowing too fast. he also loves how shameless you become after the first two orgasms, moaning out loud and dirty talking. 
“you’re so nasty baby, it’s so fucking hot.”
→ minho would love how sensitive you are when he overstimulates you with his tongue,
gripping his hair tightly when it becomes too much. you could feel his smile against your cunt while he got you to your climax again and again, and he would hold your shaking thighs so hard, wanting nothing more than to bury himself deep inside of you. would definitely always make you cum for the last time on his cock.
“come on kitten, i know you can give me one more.”
SEO CHANGBIN
THIGH RIDING
→ have you seen this man's thighs ??? of course you’ll want to ride them, it’s like the first thing you’ll fantasize about doing with him. it’ll happen for the first during one of your makeout sessions, you straddling his lap and unconsciously grinding against him, whining into his mouth. since then, he’ll push you down on his thigh all the time, watching you mesmerized as you ride it. he could probably come just from the lustful sight in front of his eyes, gripping your hips but not doing anything to guide you because he’s too lost into his contemplation.
“you’re beautiful baby… shit, how did i get so lucky ?”
→ after a while, he’ll start using that as a punishment : forcing you to ride his thigh until yours gave out, making you cry but not fucking you until you came all over him. i feel like he would love to make you ride his clothed thigh as much as his skin. on the one hand, seeing your arousal soaking his jeans makes him go feral, but on the other hand, the feeling of your wet cunt on his bare skin is so good too. either way, he’s got you trembling on top of him before he gets you shaking underneath him.
“that’s it, make a mess on my thigh… and then i’ll let you make a mess on my cock.”
LINGERIE
→ your body is literally a work of art in his eyes. let me tell you the first time he saw you naked, his jaw hit the floor. and to this day, he’s not immune yet to the effect you have on him. usually, changbin doesn’t really care about what underwear you’re wearing, but that one time you welcomed him from work in that red lingerie set, something inside of him switched. that night, he fucked you on the kitchen counter, in the shower and again in your bedroom. that’s the easiest way to drive changbin insane.
“you’re so fucking sexy, and that’s all for me ?”
→ he particularly loves how the lacy one's compliment perfectly every one of your curves, and how different certain colors makes you look like. he adores when you wear red, black or dark green, and how slutty you seem to be. he’ll happily let you ride him, with his face buried in your breast (he’s a boob guy). but he also has a thing for you wearing white and pastel colors, and how innocent it makes you look. it gives changbin an urge to corrupt you, make you go down on your knees for him and take his cock in your mouth. also, if you ever bring him with you to go buy new lingerie sets, don’t get surprised if you end up being fucked in the dressing room, because this man cannot contain himself when you ask him if this or that looks good on you when you’re simply a goddess to him.
“of course you look good baby, you’re stunning… makes me want to fuck you right now.”
SIZE KINK
→ changbin is buff, that’s a fact (and he’s hot), he knows it and you know it too, and that turns you on a lot. he loves when you throw yourself at him whenever he comes back all sweaty from the gym, unable to resist the urge to touch him when he looks so good. it was your kink at first, but it grew on him after a while. and now he gets a boner everytime he takes you to the gym with him and you lift so light weights compared to him, or when he sees your tiny figure besides his huge one in the mirror. changbin has definitely fucked you more than once in the changing room.
“your little cunt is so tight baby… fuck ! gonna fill you up so good…”
→ another thing that drives him crazy is how small you look underneath him, when he fucks you so roughly he thinks he’ll split you in half. but all you do is ask for more : more of his big cock forming a bulge in your abdomen, more of his big hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re unable to move, more of his big muscles tensing up when he holds you down. and he always gives you all of that without any hesitation because he really just wants to please you. he’ll place his hand on the bulge that formed in your tummy and press down on it, loving how you moan louder every time. 
“see how big i am baby ? your pussy so tiny i can feel myself…”
HWANG HYUNJIN
BONDAGE / SHIBARI
→ he would love to tie your hands to the bed, usually with pretty ribbons or ropes with a color that contrasts with your skin tone. don’t mistake him, he loves the way you’re always gripping his hair or clawing your hands at any part of his body you can reach, but to have you unable to move underneath him excites him to no extent. then, hyunjin has all the time in the world to explore your body how he likes it : licking, kissing, touching every part of you until he remembers every one of your features. 
“just let me spoil you princess.”
→ and i think he would also love shibari, because of how artistic it looks. hyunjin’s creativity takes a new turn when he learns new ways to tie up your body. being the gentleman he is, he would always make sure that the knots are not too tight. but when he starts fucking you, he’s using the ropes as a leverage, especially if he’s having his way with you from behind. also loves to tug on them as he’s eating you out. and he definitely grins when he sees the red marks it left on your skin.
“so beautiful, all tied up for me like that… you’re going to let me use you how i want now ?”
VOICE KINK
→ he drinks up all the little noises you make when he’s touching you in any way, it’s like music to his ears. at first, you were too shy to let him hear your moans, but after he told you how much he loved them, it became a concert. every sound coming out of your mouth goes directly to his cock, especially when you whine his name and ask him for more. and if you ever start to whisper something in his ear before going down on him, bet that he’s a babbling mess under your hands in the next seconds. if you ever tried to silence your voice, he would immediately restrain you.
“no, no, no, princess ! don’t do that, let me hear you, please ?”
→ hyunjin is also fond of his own voice. but that’s something he’s ashamed of, and would never talk about if you don’t bring it up yourself. it probably started when he realized how he cummed quicker when he let himself be loud. and it goes on from there. he adores to hear your mixed moans and whimpers, ensuring him that you’re both equally desperate for each other. he’s not as slick as he thinks though, because you clearly noticed how he couldn’t stop himself from speeding his thrusts when he made you gag on his fingers to hear just his own noises.
“ah… fuck ! angel, your voice so sexy… i could cum just by listening to you.”
DRY HUMPING
→ i’m a firm believer that hyunjin is one of the most passionate kissers out of all the members. his plump lips are all i need to state that. so don’t be surprised if every one of his kisses almost always ends up in a full makeout session. he doesn’t care if there’s people around you or not : if he wants to kiss you, he will. that being said, he would 100% love to have you straddling his lap while devouring your mouth, the most lovesick eyes diving in yours everytime you pull out to breath. he’s obviously hard the moment his lips touch yours, and he doesn’t stop you when you start grinding on him. it feels so good even with all your clothes still on.
“don’t stop princess, you’re making me feel amazing.”
→ if for some person, it’s simply foreplay, for him, it’s just as good as fucking you. he doesn’t know if it’s the little rush of shame he feels everytime you make him cum in his pants, or how turned on he gets again just from seeing the wet trail you left on his clothes, but he finds himself craving this feeling. with you on top of him, grabbing his hair and kissing his neck, and the possibility for him to grab your ass and listen to your pretty moans of his name, there’s now way he’ll deny you when you start unconsciously grinding down on him. hyunjin also loves how intimate it feels, with your bodies so close, limbs tangled together and whining into each other's mouths. 
“god, i can feel how wet you are through my jeans…”
HAN JISUNG
BREEDING KINK
→ definitely the type of guy who needs a minute or two to compose himself everytime he pushes his cock into you or else he’ll blow immediately. so let me tell you that the first time he had fucked you raw, he had not been able to control himself and almost immediately spilled his load into you. when he pulled out and saw his cum leaking out of your sweet cunt, that’s where his breeding kink started. han doesn’t want kids, or at least, not now - and he’s always been very cautious with condoms and your contraception. but after that, all he could think about was filling you up with his seed until you couldn’t take it anymore. the idea of seeing you pregnant doesn’t even seem appealing right now. no. it’s just the thought of his cum inside of you that was driving him crazy.
“ah baby you’re dripping from my cum, so full… does it feel good ?”
→ i’m always here for pussydrunk!jisung so i think he’d kinda love to overstimulate himself after he had already come multiple times, still thrusting inside of you just to see his cum spill outside of your cunt. jisung would also be so vocal and whiny when he’s releasing inside of you - well, he normally is pretty loud, but even more so in this situation. his moans are always overpowering yours and he can’t shut up about how good you’re squeezing him and how bad he wants to paint your walls white. 
“fuck… b-baby your pussy s-so good, you feel so good ! please let me cum inside… please…”
PRAISE KINK
→ he needs to know that he’s doing good. well, he can almost always say by how vocal you are that you appreciate his actions. but he wants to hear it, wants to hear you call him a good boy, or tell him that he’s making you feel good. it’s unmistakable as he moans loudly whenever you do it, becoming a babbling mess every time a praise leaves your mouth. han especially loves it if you purposely do it just before he cums : he gets a rush of adrenaline that makes his orgasm ten times better.
“do you like that ? am i making you feel good ? please tell me baby…”
→ this guy is 100% a switch, and when you take control, he’s especially reactive to every praise that leaves your mouth. but he also knows that you’re going to make him work for that. honestly, that’s not even a punishment for him because he could spend hours between your thighs. that’s only after coaxing at least three orgasms out of you that you finally comply to ride him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as soon as you sink down on his cock. 
“tell me i’ve been good… ah ! yes ! yes i’m your good boy, only yours !”
CHOKING (RECEIVING)
→ jisung never knew this was one of his kinks before meeting you. well, that’s a bit of lie. he actually discovered it when stumbling on a particular video when watching porn. he tried it, just to test the water, and he was so ashamed of how fast he came with his hand squeezing his throat that he never really authorized himself to do it again. he felt silly, and he didn’t want to scare you off. however, soon into your relationship, you asked him to try something. he was so surprised when your hand settled on his neck he thought he was dreaming, hips jolting upwards in your cunt when you pressed down, restricting his breath. and if you do it while sitting on his face, it really is over for him. 
“oh my god… don’t stop please, squeeze harder, ah ! y/n…”
→ even when he’s domming, he just wants your hand around his throat. he’ll fuck you so hard if you do it, pounding into you and gripping you so tightly you find the imprints of his hands on you even three days after. he’s so weak everytime you touch the sensitive skin of his neck, but that also fuels him to ruin you, talking non-stop to let you know how good you’re making him feel, and how much he loves your body. he makes you cum over and over again until you’re both dripping from your arousal. 
“look at you y/n, you’re supposed to be the one choking me but you’re literally crying out my name. ironic isn’t it ? shh, don’t say anything, i’ll make sure you only remember my name by the end of the night.”
LEE FELIX
BITING
→ it would start innocently, like felix biting you playfully - just another way to show his affection towards you. and you love it so much, it reminds you how appreciated you are. but one day, you decide to bite him back, and since you were nuzzled against him, you go for his neck, your teeth gently nibbling at the soft skin. you don’t expect him to moan, nor does he. the vivid blush on his cheeks would be so cute when you asked him if he wanted you to do it again. and when he nobbed, he found his body littered in bite marks in no time. 
“shit angel ! please don’t stop… i love seeing your marks all over me”
→ felix knows that it’s a little risky, because these bite marks could be seen by anyone if his shirt lifts a little too much, but he’s too thrilled by the idea of retracing the pathway of your mouth on his body in the mirror. though, all the members already saw one or two imprints of your teeth on his skin, laughing and saying you were a vampire. felix would laugh it off, but deep down, he wants you to leave even more of them. it gives him the feeling that he’s completely yours, that he’s at your disposal whenever you need him, but he keeps that to himself for now.
“keep biting me, make me yours angel.”
SEX TOYS
→ he would do anything to please you, like really anything. and he also loves so much to make you fall apart under him, loves to hear you moan freely and see your beautiful glossy eyes. that’s why i think he would introduce you to sex toys. because even if he loves to satisfy you with his fingers and tongue, he wants to show you other forms of bliss. he’ll buy a selection of different types of toys, explain to you how to use the ones you don’t know, and then, describing how he plans on using them on you. 
“and when you’ll be wet enough, i’ll make you fuck yourself on that dildo until you cum again.”
→ as much as i see felix as a sub, i can also picture him as a really mean!dom if he’s particularly stressed or worn out. will ask you to stay still while he overstimulates you again and again with all sorts of toys. on other days, he’ll edge you to tears, but that’s really rare. most of the time, he’s really gentle and careful. i think he’d also be really into training you to take bigger dildos everytime, spreading you out enough for him to just slip his cock into you with ease. 
“your pussy looks so pretty like that, so full…”
DEGRADATION
→ i’ve already said that but sub!felix lives in my mind rent free everyday. and he would fall in love with you again if you started to degrade him. he loves it when you’re domming him, pushing his head between your thighs and riding his face shamelessly, and telling him how useless he is, how he’s just a fucktoy to you, only here to please you when you need it. also, please ride him while whispering in his ears that you only want him for his cock and he’ll go crazy. 
“yes ! i’m just a fucktoy, i’m your fucktoy !”
→ even when he’s on top, fucking into you at a sloppy pace, he’ll love to hear your mean words in between your contained moans. he knows this is only an act, and he loves it, but he’ll need a really good aftercare. felix becomes all clingy (in the best way possible), just wanting to be smothered in kisses and affirmation words of how good he did. he’s also (secretly) a sucker for you murmuring nasty words in his ears while both of you are with other person. expect a very passionate makeout session in his car, because he can’t wait to go home and would love it even more if you called him a slut for it.
“sorry, sorry, but you’re too hot i couldn’t wait…”
KIM SEUNGMIN
CHOKING (GIVING)
→ have you seen his hands ? of course you want them wrapped up around your throat, and that’s not like he doesn’t love it himself. when he’s fucking you in missionary, expect his hand to settle on your neck very quickly, squeezing lightly at first, just to make it a little harder to breathe. and then he would really apply pressure, making you dizzy with the lack of oxygen and teasing you for being a whimpering mess every time he did so. would also love to run his fingers along your throat and neck every now and then, smirking when he sees you shiver at how sensitive you are.
“my hand around your throat is all you need to cum huh ?”
→ he would love to make you beg for him to choke you out. and bet that he would make you work for it too. seungmin is either going to overstimulate you to death and touch you everywhere, or not touch you at all and make you touch yourself until you can’t take it anymore. either way, it’s not until you beg him that he’ll indulge and wrap his hand around your neck. adores to have you on your knees and fuck your throat before he squeezes it to force you up and finally choke you out properly. also likes to hear how hoarse your voice is after, and how broken your moans sounds.
“instead, i’m going to fuck your throat first. be good and take it, and you’ll get what you want.”
EDGING
→ most of the time, seungmin wouldn’t be mean to you. as long as you didn’t disobey, he would not keep things that you loved away from you. but one time, when you really got on his nerves, he decided to have you crying under him and not let you cum. yes, he touched you like you were asking him to for hours, but that was not enough, seungmin purposely stopping just as you were about to reach your climax. and he loved how tight you were getting every time he ruined another of your orgasms, relishing in the way you cried out every time he did stopped one more time.
“i don’t know why you’re complaining little brat, i’m fucking you just like you asked me to.”
→ one of the things he loves the most about edging you is how shameless you become as he ruins your orgasms again and again. after the third one, you start begging him to let you cum, a delightful sound if you asked him. and if he kept going for a little few more, you would start to moan loudly, to fuck yourself onto his hand or cock, to scratch his forearms with your nails, in a vain attempt of getting him to keep moving his fingers inside of you. he loves that he can get you to such a desperate state so easily. and watching you as you finally release all over him and the sheets, a litany of “thank you” leaving your lips, is certainly one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.
“not yet baby, i know you can handle one more, and after i’ll let you cum. just one more.
HAIR PULLING
→ of course this little tease would love to pull your hair whenever he can. i can picture him dragging you by your hair to the bed if you’ve pissed him off, or using them as a leverage to fuck your throat. his grip will be more loose when he’s in a good mood, but if you’ve been bad and disobeyed him, anything coming near to tenderness would disappear (and you love it). he would like to have you from behind for that one reason, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail to keep you from silencing your moan in the pillow.
“don’t act like that’s not exactly what you wanted brat, i’ll make you remember how much of a slut you are.”
→ and i think he would also adore you tugging at his roots when he’s going down on you, letting out a groan every time you do so. on a softer note, he’s a sucker for you scratching his scalp gently and running your hands through his hair. so it’s no wonder that he loves it too when you’re more rough. he’ll let you pull his hair for a second, biting his lips, before pulling at yours and making you moan loudly, a smirk spreading on his face. would call you out and pretend to punish you for doing that but really it makes him cum so much harder, but you don’t tell him that you noticed and neither that you do it on purpose. 
“don’t do that again unless you want me to ruin your tight little cunt.”
YANG JEONGIN
PUBLIC / SEMI-PUBLIC SEX
→ he would certainly be too embarrassed to talk about it to you in the first place, but you would catch on the way he always has his hands on you whenever you’re out with friends, or even if you’re alone. he would put his arm around your shoulder, his hand on your thigh to squeeze it gently from time to time, sometimes letting his fingers creep up a little higher. but it never got further than those lingering touches that made you wonder if he would love to fuck you in the bathroom of the restaurant. until it happened one day, during a dinner with the other members, after not seeing each other for almost a week, he would bend you over the counter of the toilet, making you watch yourself in the mirror as he pounded into you.
“you know what that dress does to me, don’t you ? you just wanted everyone to hear how much of a slut you are for me…”
→ and since then, it almost became a challenge between the two of you to fuck in the most unusual locations. what really got him going was the thought of not only someone hearing how good he was making you feel, but also to see how much of a mess he made out of you every time. he wanted everyone to witness this, wanted them to only be able to envy you because they could never have what you had, never be fucked like he was fucking you. and he’s definitely eager to make you scream particularly loud when you come to the dorms and that the others are here too, turned on by the fact that they could be hearing all the noises you were making.
“no, no, no baby, don’t cover your mouth, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”
BEGGING
→ jeongin is a sucker for all the noises you make, so don’t even try to cover your mouth or silence them. he would also enjoy to ask you question while he’s fucking you, just for the pleasure of hearing you struggle to answer to him, interrupted by whines and moans every now and then. but what makes him go feral is when you beg for him. sometimes, he would not force it out of you, you would simply start to beg him for more, or to go faster. and that’s such a turn on for him, because he takes pride in the fact that he’s making you feel as crazy as he is. 
“you don’t need to beg for that honey, you’re gonna get it.”
→ but at other times, he would make you work for it and he would absolutely love to see you fall apart under him. jeongin would only put one finger inside of you, not enough to make you cum but certainly enough to drive you insane and beg him to add another one. or he would fuck into you at an agonisingly slow pace, pinning your hips down to prevent you from fucking yourself faster on his cock. and he would not be satisfied until you’re crying for him, pleas falling from your lips non-stop. he feels so powerful, it’s as if you’re helpless and that only him can help you. and well, he kinda is because he has certainly ruined you for any other man. 
“you want me to fuck you ? beg for it. beg for it and i’ll think about it.”
PAIN KINK
→ i’ll never shut up about this one, because he definitely loves feeling pain during sex. first and foremost, pull his hair. he would let out the most sinful whimpers if you did. he also loves it when you tug not so gently at them when you two are making out, it makes him hard immediately. i think he also has a thing for scratches. like, scratch his back with your nails all you want, it will only make him go harder on you. he adores how the marks you left burn the next day, and how beautiful it looks in the mirror. it's like you claiming him as yours, and the delicious sting of pain when you’re sinking your nails into his skin makes him cum so much harder.
“fuck baby, i love it so much when you’re rough.”
→ also, even if he knows that he likes pain, he doesn’t know to what extent, and he would be glad to explore all the aspects of his kink with you. he would be down to try a lot of things, and he would also encourage you to bring your own ideas. that’s how he discovered how much he loved it when you slapped him. you were riding him, and he couldn’t stop being cocky about how much you loved his cock, and how whiny you were. the thought crossed your mind, and without much reflection, you landed your hand on his cheek. jeongin left out a noise between surprise and pleasure before asking to do it again, and again.
“slap me again, please… it hurts so good baby.”
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@minnies-babie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls
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phsychobanana · 5 months
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In your eyes
Pairing: Zuko x Firebender!reader
Summary: When Zuko falls for a member of the gaang, he fears that his mistakes may ruin his chances with them.
Word count: 2.3k
A/n~ I think this is gender neutral? I don't remember putting any specific pronouns, but correct me if i'm wrong. Enjoy!
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Funnily enough, the first time you met Zuko was at the northern water tribe. Two fire benders surrounded by waterbenders during a full moon. Not exactly an ideal situation for any firebender, but you were welcome, whereas Zuko was not.
You were running as fast as you could, your legs carrying you in a speed you didn't know was even possible. Katara was in trouble and the moon was slowly disappearing from the sky, fire nation soldiers were everywhere, the water benders were struggling with the loss of the moon and you were terrified.
"Katara!" You yell to her as you get closer to the girl. She was fighting a boy you had never seen before.
You jump on the boy's back and hold your hand to his throat, heating your palm up slowly.
"I would choose my next move carefully if I were you." You say as Katara puts her own hands to her neck and moves them around trying to mimic an explosion.
Suddenly, the boy moves his hands to your face and you feel a burning swipe across your eyebrow. You let go of him and move your hands to your face, a searing pain on your eyebrow almost making you drop to your knees. Katara rushes to your side in a panic,
You see the boy grab Aang and run off before you could do anything.
"Who was that?" You ask Katara angrily.
"Zuko."
***
Zuko followed you and the gaang around for weeks, those weeks turning into months. And the more he saw you, the more he wanted to see you again.
Unfortunately for him, the more you saw him, the more you wanted to smash his head through a window. But every couple has their problems.
You held a very strong grudge towards him, seeing as your eyebrow had scarred and you now had a line going through your eyebrow and over your eye. It made you angry every time you looked in the mirror.
Unbeknownst to you, Zuko felt absolutely terrible for what he had done. He didn't mean to scar you, he would never wish his fate on anyone. Not even his greatest enemy, which lamentably, happened to be you at the moment.
***
The next memorable time that you saw Zuko was in the crystal cave. You had both been thrown in there as a punishment and you were freaking out. Aang, Katara, and Sokka needed you.
You started hitting the walls, throwing as much fire power at it as possible, you even broke a crystal into one big sharp shard and slammed it against the door repeatedly, but it was no use.
"There's no point in doing that." Zuko says, looking at you with his blazing golden eyes. "We aren't getting out until they want us out."
You just scoff in response, unsure of why he was even talking to you in the first place.
He looks at you when he hears your scoff, "You don't have to be rude."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by being mean?" You mock him in a baby voice, causing him to roll his eyes.
"What's your problem?" Zuko asks, looking you up and down with pinched eyebrows.
"What is my problem? You're my problem, Zuko. You've been hunting my friends and I for months, you've hurt us -or attempted to- more times than I can count, you gave me this," You point to your scar, making him flinch, "And you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is?" You let out another scoff and turn around, giving him your back.
Zuko looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. He watches as you light each one of your fingers up like a candle to keep yourself distracted.
He walks over and sits next to you, doing the same with his fingers.
You look at him and roll your eyes.
He smiles softly to himself. You haven't moved away from him, yet.
***
If there had ever been even a sliver of you that had liked him in that cave, it was completely gone now. He had betrayed you that night in the cave and it hurt you.
It was the day of the eclipse and you were running through the underground tunnels, looking for Sokka. As you were running you bumped into something, falling hard to the ground.
"Ow!" A familiar voice huffed as the other person made contact with the ground.
"Zuko?"
He looks up, his hair falling into his eyes. You notice his eyes widen and light up, but just as he goes to say something you lunge at him.
With your hands around his neck, you yell at him through gritted teeth. "I trusted you!"
"I know, I'm sorry." He barely gets the words out, gasping and clawing at your hands.
You let go of him and slam him into the ground hard.
"I swear to the spirits, if you ever try to hurt my friends again I will kill you with my own two hands. No bending, no help, just me and you." You say and walk away to go find Sokka.
Zuko sits there for a moment replaying what you said in his head over again. A small smile spreads across his face and he jumps up, running after you.
***
"You have got to be kidding me!" You yell at your friends. They were letting Zuko, the guy that had tried to kill you and capture Aang on more occasions than you could count, into the group.
"Everyone deserves a second.....or 100th chance, Y/n." Aang says, placing a hand on your shoulder as Zuko takes a step towards you.
You clench your fist defensively, making him put his hands up in defense as he takes another step forward.
"I get why you wouldn't trust me, but I've changed." He says, taking one of your hands in his. You pull away with a hollow laugh and walk away.
"Fine, let this psycho join us. I don't care." You say as you disappear behind a wall.
Zuko looks down with a sigh. "Challenge accepted..." He says under his breath as he thinks of ways to win you over.
***
Two days after Zuko joined the gaang, you were attacked. A pack of firebenders found you, attacking the group. You all paired together, Sokka with Toph, Katara with Aang, and you with Zuko. You had begged Toph to pair with you but Sokka stole her, leaving you with the one person you did not want.
You were back to back, fighting off the soldiers when another fleet arrived. The gaang chose to run, not wanting to be captured. You stayed behind to fight off the rest of the soldiers so the others could get away.
"Y/n come on! Hurry!" Sokka yelled for you as you were running after Appa. A soldier dived at you and their hand grabbed at your ankle, making you tumble to the ground.
"Go!" You yell and Aang pulls Appa out of there. You kick your foot back at the soldier, successfully kicking them in the face. You run off into the forest, You can hear the soldiers running after you as you twist through the trees.
You feel something grab your arm and pull you toward them. Looking up, you see Zuko. He's not looking at you, instead looking at the soldiers running around looking for you. You notice that he pulled you into a clearing hidden by trees and bushes. He places his hand over you mouth as you go to say something.
His adams apple bobs as he swallows harshly, listening and watching for any signs that the soldiers might be headed towards the two of you. After no signs, he looks down at you, finally making eye contact.
His golden eyes shine as he looks at you and he smiles softly.
"Thank you." You say quietly, not wanting to be too loud.
He nods.
"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a barely there smirk.
You shake your head. "I don't think I ever really hated you." He smiles at you. "I just strongly disliked you. It was a very strong dislike. Very strong."
"Okay, I get it."
You laugh softly at his dismissiveness of the subject.
"Do you think I'm still a bad guy?" His voice is quiet. Barely a whisper, but you hear it.
You look at him, he's looking down at the grass, his fingers are playing with each other out of habit, his hair is fallen over his face and covering his eyes. You never quite realized how pretty he was.
"Of course not-" You begin to tell him your answer, but your words are interrupted by yelling.
The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the noises and see your friends running to you.
"There they are!" Katara calls to the others as she makes eye contact with you.
Zuko lets out a frustrated breath at the interruption, but he gets up and dusts off his clothes, offering you his hand.
***
The days after that moment in the woods would replay in your mind every night before you would sleep, every morning when you'd awake, every meal, every training session with Aang and Zuko, every group meeting, every day all day.
You had started watching Zuko more than you would care to admit. The way he tried to make up for all of his past mistakes always seemed to put a smile on your face. He helped Katara in the kitchen when he could, he always made time to talk about weapons with Sokka, he always played games with Toph and Aang, and he was especially trying to make it up to you. Though you didn't notice that part.
He always pulled your chairs out for you, he helped teach you how to control the lightning within you, he even got you flowers one time. Unfortunately the flowers backfired and Appa ended up eating them, sneezing petals for a week.
You were currently training Aang on the beach with Zuko. The sun was blazing down on your back and your cotton shirt was absorbing all of the heat, making you sweat more than you would normally.
You walk over to where Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki are sitting, sipping their little coconut drinks as they watch you and Zuko beat the arrows off of Aang.
You take both ends of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bathing suit top. When you walk back over to the boys you notice how red Zuko's face is.
"You alright over there, Z?" You ask, worried that he might be overworking himself in the heat.
His head snaps to look you in the eyes, his face going an even deeper red.
"Y-yeah, heh. Why wouldn't I be?" He looks around, avoiding looking at you with everything in him.
You decide to ignore his weird reaction to your words and go back to teaching Aang.
"This one is a partner move. So, I'll demonstrate with Zuko and then when you understand how to do it, you can try with him." You explain as you walk over to the spluttering and red as a beet, boy.
You move his hand to your waist and his other in yours, your own face heating up a bit at this position. You then kick his own foot out from underneath him and flip him over your shoulder. You light your hand ablaze and put it near Zuko's neck like one would a sword.
"I thought you said this was a partner move," Zuko groans out.
"Yeah, good guy and bad guy. Partners." You say with a smirk.
"You can do that, right Aang?"
Aang nods his head excitedly.
After another hour or two of flipping Zuko over your shoulders, you all sit down around a camp fire on the beach for dinner. You and Zuko offer to collect the plates and take them back up to the house.
"You did good in training today." He says as he takes the plates from your hands and places them on the counter.
You let out a small laugh.
"Well I would assume I did considering the amount of times I was able to flip you."
He rolls his eyes and you take this moment to admire him.
His hair falls in perfect strands across his forehead, his golden eyes reflect the light of the setting sun peeping through the window, his skin is soft as you place your hand on his.
He looks at you confused when he feels your touch.
"You did good, too." You say softly.
He smiles at this, looking down at your hand that was still on his.
"How do you see me?" He asks, breaking the peaceful silence.
"What do you mean?"
"What am I in your eyes?"
You think for a moment, pondering how your answer.
"You're a person who has made many mistakes." You begin, making his shoulders droop a little bit. "But you are also a person trying to make up for all of those mistakes. You're a kid, a kid who has been through a lot. Yet, you're still sweet and funny and kind and loyal. You try to hide how you feel, but I can still see every emotion you have in your actions. You're trying. And for that, I think you are amazing. That is who you are in my eyes."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, making you feel nervous about how he would react.
With a million thoughts racing through his mind, he decides not to say anything. You said that his actions meant more, so he spoke with an action.
He gently placed his hand on your cheek and leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away at any second. But you don't.
His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hair tickling your cheek. You smile into his kiss making him smile as well. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer as he pulls away from the kiss. You rest you foreheads against each other, catching your breath.
"I think I like you." He says, making you laugh.
"Oh shut up." You say and lean in for another kiss.
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inkedbybarnes · 2 months
Text
unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
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the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
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you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
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your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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serawritesthings · 5 months
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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.
OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND
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Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut Word Count | 10k A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡
While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.
Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in. 
The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man. 
You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth. 
“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body. 
“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.
“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger. 
Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.
“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject. 
“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.
As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.
“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.
“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.
You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.
“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.
You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.” 
Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.
“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll. 
Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door. 
He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur. 
You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose. 
“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look. 
“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure. 
Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach. 
“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn. 
He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn’t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.
He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.
“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.
“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.
“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”
As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West. 
Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.
Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.
Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.
What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.
“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.
“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.
“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”
“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”
He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.
“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours. 
“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing. 
“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff. 
“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.
Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height. 
“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much. 
It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.
You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.
“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.
“Cold?” 
“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.
“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work. 
Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.
“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.
“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.
“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”
“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”
He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words. 
“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled. 
It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”
“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.
Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.
It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.
“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.” 
“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.
“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.
“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”
“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving. 
Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.
You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.
His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.
“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.
“Yes, kind.”
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.
“Sure.”
It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway. 
It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.
Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.
Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite. 
If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.
And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby. 
Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.
He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.
It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.
Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.
“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.
“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.
Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.
Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people. 
Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.
“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.
You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears. 
As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.
How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.
How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable. 
“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.
“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes. 
You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls. 
“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.
“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”
“No, I-” 
“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”
His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did. 
“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”
You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.
“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.
“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture. 
You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.
Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes. 
He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being. 
So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.
“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.
He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.
“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle. 
“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”
A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”
As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.
“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him. 
Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips. 
Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.
“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something. 
Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.
And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.
“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.
Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.
“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.
And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.
It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground. 
“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm. 
“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.
It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.
You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch. 
It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.
“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.” 
You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.
You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking. 
“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.
“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.
You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck. 
Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.
Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own. 
He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.
And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him. 
But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh. 
His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.
It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.
The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers. 
“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night. 
Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.
“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval. 
You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.
He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.
A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions. 
For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.
And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.
“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.
“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.
Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.
“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.” 
He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him. 
While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck. 
You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.
Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else. 
You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you. 
God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.
“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.
“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control. 
Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.
He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.
Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements. 
Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.
“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.
He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.
Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before. 
Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.
Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.
“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.
“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”
“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.
They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.
“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.
“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.
“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.
“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.
“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face. 
The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.
You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.
Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly. 
Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you. 
“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.
The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.
As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.
“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.
“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come. 
“Are you jealous of Charles?” 
If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.
If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled. 
“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs. 
“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.” 
Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him. 
“Only me, right?”
“Only you, stupid.”
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Next caller.
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《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.
《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.
Word count: 3.9k
A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.
Mini series masterlist
18+ no minors
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Year 1990
Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.
Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.
Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.
He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.
You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house parties and girls, giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.
You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.
One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.
You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.
Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.
You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.
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A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.
You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.
"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.
You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"
You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.
You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."
You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.
The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.
The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"
You struggled to find your voice yet again.
"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.
"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.
He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."
"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.
"That's okay. We'll keep this anonymous." He replied.
His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.
You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."
"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.
"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.
His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."
"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.
"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.
He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "
"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.
Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.
Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct?"
"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.
"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.
You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.
"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.
"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.
"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.
'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.
A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"
"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.
"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."
You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.
"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.
"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.
"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.
You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."
"That's a good girl." He praised.
You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.
"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"
Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.
"I got it." You whisper into the phone.
He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."
You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.
"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.
"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.
"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.
He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."
"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.
"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"
"That's my good girl." He cooed.
You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"
"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.
You gulped into the phone." Yeah."
His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.
"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.
"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"
"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.
"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.
"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"
A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.
"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.
You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"
You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."
"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.
You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.
"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.
"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.
He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."
"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.
"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.
Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.
Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."
His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.
"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.
"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.
He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."
His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.
Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.
"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.
"S'close." You whined.
"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.
The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.
You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.
Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.
Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.
Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.
"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.
With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.
"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.
"How was it?" He asked, hoping you had a good time.
"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.
"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.
His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.
He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."
You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.
Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.
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httpsclarye · 8 months
Text
#GOOD LOKING+!
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Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
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Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.
Ao3: Good Looking
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”
“I could not sleep”
“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”
“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
“Are you and Luffy close then?”
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”
“I remember that. You were so naive”
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…
“Not anymore.”
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
“What dear? See something you lik-”
You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.
”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
“My love, you are so perfec-“
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
“Sanji, p-please more”
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”
“Next time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”
"And you should go shirtless more often too.”
"Only for you, my love.”
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023
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