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yuyan · 10 months

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The art of love

Kaveh x gn!reader (highschool au)

Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Tags: artistic/academic reader, bickering, academic rivals to lovers (but art class), Kaveh can't write essays, sumeru classes = honour classes, mild swearing

"Her nose is a little off-centre," you said absentmindedly.

"I know!" Kaveh said, "I'm fixing it."

"Just saying," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up and focus on your own painting."

You let out a laugh and continued painting the hair of your character. Art class would be a peaceful class with the lo-fi music the teacher plays and quiet chattering as ambient noise, if it wasn't for the two of you's constant bickering.

"Thats not how you paint hair," Kaveh said, side-eyeing your piece.

"I'm literally blocking in the shadows. It's nowhere near done," you replied, agitation seeping into your voice.

"Weeeeeeeell, if you ever need help, I'm always here," Kaveh said. The light and cheery tone was clearly mocking you and made you want to pluck his hair out. "After all, I am the only one here who truly likes art," he added, swiping baby pink paint on your right cheek and leaning in so close, you'd kiss if you moved even a millimetre in the wrong direction.

Suddenly, he fell back, off his chair and many eyes gazed at the two of you. You still had your arm extended from when you shoved him away from you and Kaveh was on the ground, a little stunned.

"Aww are you blushing?" Kaveh mocked, referring to the paint still on your cheeks. "You know it's quite rude to push someone, believe it or not, this elite academy's uniform is quite expensive. Though it probably isn't worth a dime in your eyes," he mumbled the last part.

You wiped the paint off your cheeks aggressively while Kaveh picked himself up from the floor.

"You too!" the teacher yelled,"I don't care what's going on between the two of you but it needs to stop, you're both sumeru students for archon's sake!"

"But-" Kaveh dropped his head and just nodded, stopping himself while you simply ignored the teacher and turned to face your painting.

The two of you were the only sumeru students in your art class. Your other "scholarly" classmates had left when they got chance, talking about how "art's a waste of time anyways" or "I have other more important things to do." They probably gave your head teacher so much of a headache that she just let them change. Poor Ms Nahida. Most of the students in your art class were from the mondstat and Inazuma stream with some from Fontaine as well.

"You know you can just quit like all of our other academic classmates, are you just doing art to prove you're better or more cultured than them?" Kaveh asked. "It's no point, they think it's useless and I hate people like you who do it even though they don't like it. Go back to them and receive praise for being top of the class like a dog again." ("Class" refers to the sumeru stream which has roughly 150 students—your grade alone—and is the top 14.29%)

"Who says I don't like art?" you replied coldly.

"Well-"

"If you payed attention in language arts, you'd know it's a rhetorical question," you cut him off. "Anyways, why would I want to go back to them? They're stupid anyways."

"After you finish your painting, please write an essay on it, it'll be 50% of you final grade," the teacher announced.

Kaveh groaned. Hearing the bell ring you packed up and left for lunch.

The cafeteria was bustling with noise. Everyone excitedly talking to their friends, exchanging gossip or complaining about the huge load of work they had. Most sumeru students came into the cafeteria and left, too busy perfecting their assignments or doing an extra research project either for fun or extra credit. It wasn't uncommon to see students score above 95% in the sumeru stream so to be the top of the class

"I'm gonna fail," Kaveh said, slumping across the table.

"I'm sure you won't, art is your best subject after all," Tighnari reassured, eating his lunch.

"We have to write and essay and last time we did that, I just passed!" Kaveh shouted. "It dragged my overall grade to a B!"

"Stop shouting, you're so loud," Alhaithem said, turning the next page if his textbook.

Kaveh's biggest weakness were essays, analytical essays. He could analyse just fine and find the meaning easily but his structure, poor vocab and ability to never know how to write and explain something, led to him only just passing because of his analysing skills. To anyone else in the elite academy, Teyvat high, his skills would actually be quite good but he was in the sumeru stream and to get into a special architecture degree in the university of teyvat, he'd have to suffer in the sumeru stream. Unfortunate.

"Just ask (name), they're in your art class and is top of our grade," Cyno said. "And-"

"If you say one more horrible joke, I'm going to throw you out of this cafeteria," Tighnari warned.

"Fine..." Cyno said.

"Like they'd ever want to help," Kaveh said, "plus, I hate them."

"Don't you have a crush on them?" Alhaithem said.

"Shut up!" Kaveh shouted, "as if!"

Cyno raised one of his eyebrows while Tighnari mumbled a "whatever you say."

"I don't like them like that, they're just..."

"Cute? I guess but," you pondered, trying to find the right words.

"Oh so you do like him," Dehya smirked.

"Omg! (Name) has a crush on Kaveh!" Nilou squealed, all giddy. "How cute!"

"As if," you said, rolling your eyes. "And you didn't even let me finish my sentence! I can't find the right words for it," you said, the memory of this morning flashing in your mind. "Annoying? Yes but no...Dumb? No not really...Ah! Obnoxious!"

Your friends' eyes slightly widened, their eyes fixated on whatever or whoever was behind you. Swiftly, you turned around, only to see kaveh.

"Well hello to you too," he huffed.

"What is it?" you asked.

"Could you help me with the art essay and in return I'll... I'll leave you alone?" His heart ached at the sight of the twinkle in your eyes when he mentioned the last part.

You thought back to art class. You had left in such a hurry when the bell rang, you forgot your pencil case. When you had went back to go get it, you heard voices coming from inside the classroom.

"Kaveh, you have to lift your grades," your teacher said. Kaveh merely nodded. "You have so much potential but your writing grade keeps dragging you down, please put an effort to improve it this time?" You saw Kaveh clench his fists as his whole body stiffened. You couldn't see his face but the look on your teacher's was a disappointed one.

You'd seen Kaveh poor his heart into every essay whether in art class or not and he'd always just pass. It was like nothing he did could get him over that C. Stepping back from the doorway, you watched Kaveh come out with hot, angry tear in his eyes. He hadn't even notice you and just stormed off to the cafeteria. As soon as he came out, you went in, greeting the teacher, took your pencil case and left.

The journey to the cafeteria wasn't long but it had you thinking. Should you ask if Kaveh wants help? Or would he see it as condescending? You two clearly weren't on the best terms.

Coming back to reality, you nodded and you saw a soft smile grace Kaveh's lips. "You have my number, does the library after school work for you?" you asked.

"Ah yes," Kaveh said, smiling like an idiot.

You had Kavehs's number since he was friends with your friends and you all exchanged numbers but the encounters after that weren't the most pleasent to say the least.

The day went by fast and with the final ring of the bell, you made your way to the library, shooting Kaveh a text when you reached there. The library was two stories and with endless categories and books from fantasy to ancient languages. You secured a small booth in the corner of the library. It has a whiteboard to the left, a decent table that had a comfortable booth seat on each side.

"Hi," Kaveh greeted.

"Hi, let's start?" you asked.

Kaveh nodded in response.

You two started to plan each of your essays, discussing the meaning behind both you and kaveh's painting. The atmosphere was tense and you held you tongue for the sake of a civil study session. Kaveh accepted each tip you gave him, begrudgingly.

The study break ended 20 minutes ago. Refining your plan, you scribbled notes down to the sound of kaveh's typing. You looked up, only to see Kaveh still texting away. He'd been text for half an hour now and each time you told him to stop, he'd just say "I'm almost done."

"What is so important that has you texting for the last half an hour?" you asked, rather impatiently.

"Nothing, just heard that Sam got her hair pulled out." Kaveh said, putting his phone down. (I'm sorry if your name is Sam)

"She got into ankther fight?"

"Yep."

"Serves her right, she's always been a bitch."

Kaveh laughed and you tilted your head to the side, a smile creeping onto your own face.

"Would you like to hear how it happened?" Kaveh asked.

"Yeah, that girl has been causing drama since her first day. Of course I want to know how karma caught up with her," you said.

"Ok, so..."

Time pasted fast as the two of you gossiped and chatted, work casted aside. Playful insults were thrown carelessly and eventually the librarian had to kick the two of you out because it was closing time.

The next day rolled around and both of you found yourself working on your essays, starting the first draft. Typing away, words flowed as you wrote about the composition, line quality and colours used in your piece. Finishing the first draft, you sighed as you saved it and glanced over to Kaveh who was dead asleep.

"I knew this would happend," you muttered. Your grey cotton blanket covered him while you snuck a small pillow under his head, careful not to wake him.

In return, you took his laptop and found he'd finish your first draft before you so you started editing it. Making little notes with the comments feature and giving feedback to pass the time.

"Hmm...how long have I been asleep for?" Kaveh asked, sturing from his slumber.

"Good morning sleeping beauty, you've been sleeping for just over an hour," you said, neatly placing your books and pencil case back into your bag. Kaveh watched you pack up intently. His eyes were still droopy with exhausten and his hair was fluffy and messed up. "I was going to wake you after I finished packing up but I guess there's no need."

You gave a sweet smile that made Kaveh melt into a puddle of water. He couldn't stand how adorable and innocent your smile was and how your eyes reflected it. The slight rosy tint to your cheeks was all it took for Kaveh to want to squish them and pepper them with kisses. He swore over and over again that he wouldn't fall in love with you no matter what he did yet here he was, completely whipped. Simp was an understatement.

"I also finished editing your essay and made notes on what I changed gave feedback so you can refer to it in the future," you said,"if you don't understand it, I can explain it tomorrow but I have to go now so bye." You saved and took your leave.

"Oh, oh ok, bye," Kaveh said, waving back with one hand while the other rubbed his sleepy eye.

Two weeks had gone by, the two of you either meeting everyday after school or the day after if it one couldn't make it. A week after your final meeting, all assignments and exams had been completed and handed in. Everyone let out a sigh of relief as the final week before summer holidays arrived. The final week was mostly preparation for next semester's topics, cleaning up and receiving marks back.

It'd been a week since Kaveh last spoke or argued with you. With the two of you sharing every class except one elective, it was easy to spot the two of you arguing with each other. Whether it was malicious or playful, no one really knew. The two of you didn't even know but an unsettling peace had made itself home in your classes. One that unsettled everyone because it must've meant something really bad happend, right?

You saw Kaveh receive his score on his essay, the look on his face showed he was estatic. In an instant he looked at you with a big heart-warming smile that made you smile even on your worst days but then he shut his mouth as if he remembered something and reluctantly turned away. It made your heart ache and all you wanted to do was scream at him that he didn't have to ignore you, despite the promise he made.

Kaveh: I got a full score!

Tighnari: Congrats!

Cyno: Nice, did you tell (name)?

Kaveh: Oh um...

Alhaithem: Did you forget Kaveh said he'd leave (name) alone if they helped them?

Alhaithem: Good job on your essay Kaveh.

Kaveh: Thanks

Cyno: Sorry, it slipped my mind.

Kaveh: Its fine.

Alhaithem: Well if that's all, stop texting in class, there's still ten minutes left.

Kaveh: Art teacher doesn't care and you're texting in class too!

(Read by Alhaithem, cyno and tighnari)

Kaveh: Don't leave me on read! Urgh!

Throughout the day, you caught Kaveh glance at you from across the class multiple times. Each time, his eyes would widened slightly and he'd whip his head back so fast you thought it might fall off one day. What you didn't notice was the small pout on his lips as he continued taking notes and the bright red that dusted his cheeks and ears.

Everytime you approached, he'd walk away. If you walked in the same room as him and he couldn't escape, he'd talk to someone, making small talk.

"What if he's seeing someone else and moved on already!" Nilou shouted from you left.

"Thats not helping nilou and I doubt that loverboy would move on so quickly," Dehya said from your right while you shrunk.

"Sorry," Nilou said.

"Its fine," you said, pressing the button underneath the traffic light. "This is where I part," you said with a smile,"Ill see you two tomorrow."

"Oh ok bye (name)!" Nilou said.

"See ya," Dehya called out, already walking the other direction.

"Hey wait Dehya! Wait for me!" Nilou shouted, chasing after her.

You looked to the ground and wondered for a moment. Kaveh had been ignoring you purposely and you even tried leaving a note one time on his desk saying you wanted to talk. Perhaps he really didn't like you and just said he'd leave you alone because he thought itd been a win-win for the both of you. Killing two birds with one stone. Getting a high score and also never having to talk to you ever again. Before you knew it, small tears escaped your eyes and you sniffed while furiously wiping the tears away. "No, no that can't be true. I-" words got caught in your throat. Words that wouldn't have been spoken to anyone in particular. The traffic lights beeping went off signalling for you to cross. You looked up staring at the green man start to flash red as you finished crossing.

"Whatever! Its fine!" a voice yelled. "Its not like I love them anyways!" a very familiar voice yelled.

You turned the corner, to see a blonde man standing next to his silver haired friend. Never would you have expected to fall in love University or that kaveh's words would hurt you so much but as you stood there and watched Kaveh's and alhaithem's retreating figure, as you watched Kaveh list all the things he hated about you, small cracks turned into big cracks as your heart started to fall apart and you couldn't be bothered to pick the pieces up.

Part 2 || Dont read part 2 if you don't want comfort and just want an angsty ending. || Requests: open

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saintjosie · 10 months

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Not you saying that menopausal women going on HRT so they can actually walk without pain and prevent osteoporosis is "gender affirming care".

You minimize women's physical health issues to just emotional issues (sound familiar? like maybe misogynists have been doing that since the dawn of time?), and minimize their treatments as being "gender affirming, it just makes them feel more like the gender they identify as!"

They take HRT to reduce debilitating physical pain in their physical bodies, not because of their poor little womanly feelings. You are a liar and a classical misogynist regardless of whether you identify as one.

it is absolutely insane the mental gymnastics that terfs go through in order to justify the obvious hypocrisy of their rhetoric.

i know there’s no point in arguing with terfs. you’re neck deep in an echo chamber of hateful propaganda and nothing i say is going to make you want to pull yourself out - mostly because i know that whether or not you know it, you love being in that cesspool. you want to have a scapegoat for your anger.

and as someone who used to wallow in self loathing, i feel sorry for you. i really do. fueling your existence with hatred, whether that be hatred of yourself, or funneling that hatred towards another, is a miserable way to live. and weirdly, trans women are going to understand that better than most.

but that’s the thing that kills you. i’m happy. i’m happy because i learned to love myself despite what anyone wants to believe about me. and in doing so, i’ve found an abundance of authentic love in my life.

if you pay real close attention to terf rhetoric, you might notice that none of it focuses on listening to or validating experiences. it’s all focused on invalidating the experience of someone else. a experience that you refuse to even listen to or consider. and if you pay even closer attention, then you’d notice that trans people don’t talk about minimizing each other’s experience, rather than focusing on validation and solidarity. one side focuses on division and hate and the other focuses on love.

i highly doubt that what i’m saying to you will make you pause and think but on the off chance that you’re willing, i’d like to ask you to imagine what your life would look like if you weren’t obsessed with hating strangers on the internet. if instead, all of that energy could be channeled into improving your own life and enriching the lives of the people you care about and who care about you.

i probably can’t convince you but it’s worth a shot.

#cw terfs #cw transphobia

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re-bee-key · 1 year

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I would like to talk about Brianna Ghey, but more broadly, i just want to vent about my frustrations with how some people are treating her death.

Specifically, the people saying she wasn't killed for being trans. #Trigger warnings for transphobia, death, racism, antisemitism, and other uncomfortable topics that are important to talk about right now.

Its hard to explain to people who really don't want to listen about the accelerating slippery slope of hate that is being experienced around the world.

What happened to Brianna Ghey is tragic. Its heartbreaking. It is not, however, surprising.

Brianna Ghey lived in the UK. And if you've been paying attention to any amount of trans issues you'd be aware that trans people are struggling for their lives in the UK.

In the UK and the USA and really all over the world, politicians and extremists are pushing to ban trans existance altogether. Bills and laws against where trans people can pee, how they present, if they can get surgery or transition, and in some places laws are made that attack how anyone presents - trans or cis.

And all this hateful rhetoric and change is being pushed under the guise of protection. Protection towards woman and children and society as a whole.

Which is sick and twisted and a heartbreaking world view to have on people just wanting to live their lives how they want to live them.

But this rhetoric riles people up. It sanctifies the hatred in their hearts. And pushes them to act.

Usually in harrassment and bullying. But as the pot begins to boil and tensions get even more strained, the wire snaps and someone gets murdered.

Cause thats what all this hate ultimately leads to. Death.

Hatred and fear of Muslims leads to immigration bans and then job loss and isolation and mosque burnings. Next people begin to fear anyone middle eastern. Anyone brown.

Hatred of gays and Jews and others led to the Holocaust.

Hatred of black people led to slavery and hangings and so so many other horrible things. And even when they fought for their rights, things have only incremently gotten better. The hatred still there. Still leading to inequality and death.

All of this to say, the progressive push against Trans people has reached exactly where it was going to reach with all this horrible shit going on.

I mean, fuck. Just the new stupid Hogwarts game coming out has increased anti trans hostility tenfold.

Trans people are at the forefront of any mention of Harry Potter and its making people mad. Those bubbling tensions are reaching the boiling point, and crazy awful people are taking action.

Brianna Ghey was a semi popular tiktoker and was open about her identity. She was bullied and harrassed on tiktok and at school. And its beyond frustrating that the police are denying this was a hate crime.

She was 16! In a park! Having a nice day and she was stabbed to death. Why would anyone do that? If not for the fanned flames of hate in their heart.

How can anyone deny what is happening?

How can people not care?

Trans lives are at risk. And honestly so is every minority at this point.

You have to push against hate for it to die. You have to keep speaking up. Keep standing side by side people who are different than you but need your support.

You cant just sit back in complacency and let bad things happen and pass you by because they dont affect you.

You gotta fuckin care about other people. This shouldn't be so hard!

Ive got a lot more i want to say but this is already so long and rambly. I just... Im so upset.

The world could be so different. We could all live alongside each other, different but embracing our differences. Sharing and exchanging culture. Progressing the arts and sciences and fixing the planet and pushing what it means to be human and our place in the world.

But instead, we are here. Sliding down the slippery slope. And its gonna take every single person who has the capacity for empathy and good to link arms and together pull ourselves back up to the top.

#trans rights #transgender #transphobia #racism #antisemitism #homophobia #death #death mention #trigger warning #trigger warnings #my thoughts #rambling #venting #long text post

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fengshenjunlang · 1 year

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im sorry if this is such a weird ask but is it weird that I don't block JC stans, not because i want to fight with them ( i dont interact with them at all) but because i genuinely like reading their metas and so on. it's fascinating to me how one character can have different personalities as long as you put your mind into it, you can convince yourself to see this as the subjective truth. its like how JC has WWX being the one on fault for nearly every problem he has, and hoe the cultivation world just accuse WWX of everything. That character may not have that ability to affect them because he is quite not alive, but as it was already engraved in their mind that WWX is to blame for everything, every logic must be bend to suit this truth. I do get angry most of the time but im sadistic enough to put myself through that then try to see how they come to such conclusions. ive been doing so for 3 years now and i really think its not a healthy coping mechanism. i have contracted a lot of headaches, but i thinks it's worth it as i have trained myself to see both sides. frankly after reading a lot of uwu jc and victim jc i still firmly believe in canon jc. say what, should i stop while its not too late, im quite afraid of reading metas made by literal children who are biased but I've suffered long enough, shouldn't i continue until i found something else to fixate on??

Hi, Anon.

To block or not to block is up to you. Personally, I think reading their metas is quite refreshing, it's like you're watching how a cult spreading their God and Savior things in earnest, and you just watch and hear them to amuse yourself by their ridiculous rhetoric. So, yeah, not to block them is totally fine and normal.

Though frankly speaking, reading too much of them aren't good either. Like, why do we have to read something that obviously are different to our views on a... Frequent basis? Especially JC metas are, prone, and almost certain, written by slandering either Wei Wuxian, Jiang Fengmian, Jiang Yanli, the Wen Sibling, or even other characters on the way. Their metas are mostly than not, end up feeling like a hate speech. It's exactly the same as JC and YZY's type of dialogues in mdzs. Unpleasant. Baseless. Ridiculous. Selfish driven logic. Delusional.

So, if you just want to amuse yourself it's free not to block them, but do remember to pay attention to your mental health as well, lol.

Oh, lastly, if you're someone who actively posting or reblogging about canon JC content or things that is against their belief, like posting XiYao rather than XiCheng (lol), then you better block them up, to avoid harassment. They're mostly kids who finds it difficult to control their emotion and attitude.

#mdzs #anon ask #jc meta

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wexlermendelssohn · 1 year

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I had posted this on my Facebook but I want to post it here as well just for posterity.

JK Rowling is a TERF. If you pay for the new Harry Potter game, you are financially supporting someone who hates people that you know and love for their gender.

Don’t do it.

Longer thoughts below:

Listen- I understand nostalgia. I was the first person in my school to read those books.

I should say book- only one was out when I started reading them! I got even more into the books in middle and high school. I went to midnight book and movie releases. I cosplayed. I wrote fan fic and engaged in that fandom more than any other.

When we were young we started seeing issues, but made excuses for Rowling. House elves are just like mythical brownies! It’s okay they love to work and totally not pro-slavery! It’s normal to use fat as a shorthand for bad! After all Roald Dahl did it! Goblins are just coincidentally falling into antisemitic stereotypes, sure it couldn’t be on purpose, look she named a good student Anthony Goldstein! (This is not a complete list of the issues by any stretch of the imagination)

But here’s the thing- if all of it hadn’t been on purpose, she would have apologized and looked for ways to do better.

Instead, she doubled down on hate and started spewing TERFish rhetoric so frequently that she’s now a figurehead of the UK’s anti-trans bigots.

I stopped making excuses for her.

I stopped engaging with her media.

I stopped supporting her financially.

I stopped making conversational references to her work, even to derivative works like RiffTrax “always life affirming to check in with Neville” or StarKid “Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders,” because not hurting anyone I know and love is more important to me than any fandom could be.

Giving up something you loved when you were young (especially when it was a substitute for personality in your tweens or teens) isn’t easy.

But when someone you loved is hateful, harmful, and doesn’t care to stop no matter how many chances they’re given, they aren’t deserving of your attention or your money.

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itspileofgoodthings · 3 years

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I love the gentle power that an intentional, well-timed act of kindness has.

#and I know I know. we can’t always see all the ramifications and/or reasons for an act of kindness being well-timed #and we don’t need to have it in order to BE kind #but i still think it matters #I actually am not a fan of ‘random acts of kindness’ or at least not the rhetoric of it #I hate how lazy and unspecific it is. as if the point of it is just ‘pouring good vibes out into the universe’#just. NO.#I mean I guess there are worse ways to spend your time than doing kind things randomly #but there are so much BETTER WAYS TO BE KIND #kindness for me means nothing if it is not tied to compassion and to a person.#I think of it as a response to something that you see. some need or opportunity or moment.#and no you don’t have to WAIT for some magical moment #but I really do think it is about listening and looking and watching and really just PAYING ATTENTION TO PEOE #*people #honing that skill of noticing and responding to people’s hurts #honing your imagination even. so that you are aware to situations that would produce pressures for people #and then reaching out to relieve it. to say ‘I see you. and I’m here. even in a tiny way’#THAT’s the way I want to be kind. not randomly #anyway SHUT UP MARIA #I tried to do this this week with a student and it kind of got fumbled #because I kept her after class to ask if she was okay but then her friends wouldn’t leave so I couldn’t #and she thought she was in trouble I could tell? anyway I let her go #and then emailed her and it was smoothed over #but it was kind of funny #anyway anyways I do think we need to trust God more than ourselves in determining what people need #but we can use our Brain and we can make it a habit to help where we see a hurt #and not just RANDOMLY #oh my gosh no really SHUT UP MARIA

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espritmuse · 3 years

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okayyyy but dom bully mikasa who starts being mean to you when you get too close to eren and tells you you’re acting like such a slut around him until one day she eventually fucks you stupid calling you the same names and making you tell her your hers

—𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄—

⌕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

⌕ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: semi public sex (school bathrooms), fingering, cunnilingus, meankasa and possessive Mikasa, a bit of degradation. [1.3 words.]

⌕ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: The beginning is just for a bit of context, you can just go right to the smut if ur too horny, it’s the best moment I guess…. (Yeah it is)

— 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 —

Mikasa knew very well where this little game was going. Since the very beginning. But can you blame her for playing with you like she did? it was so fun, seeing you getting all flustered, seeing your eyes avoiding hers when you both met in the school corridors.

A boy. A stupid and meaningless boy. It was the problem, or rather, her excuse for treating you like she always does. Accidents, like she calls them in front of the headteacher when she is, once again, sent to his office.

But the line was definitely crossed last Saturday night, when you went to her boyfriend’s birthday party. Eren Yeager. It took you some time, perhaps too much time to finally realise and understand that jealousy was the cause of all of your mistreatment.

Daggers piercing your skin. That’s what her dark black eyes would’ve thrown if they could when her boyfriend shared his cup of alcohol with you. You weren’t that close to him, you weren’t even really his friend, but that was already too much, apparently. Since then, insults and humiliations got worse, so much worse.

“Slut.” This is what you could read on the body of your car, written in red paint. Eyes wide and mouth agape, you tried to use the sleeve of your shirt to wash the paint out, without any success. You looked stupid, like this, on the parking lot; and she didn’t miss a second of it.

3PM in the school restroom. That was the time and the place you were supposed to meet her at. You accepted, for some unknown reason, after reading it on the piece of paper she had left on your car. Curiosity, as it may be.

And there she was. Awaiting for you, her back pressed on the white wall, an unamused expression on her face. Unamused, until she heard your footsteps walking down to her.

Black nail polish. It was what her nails were painted with when she slowly slid them down your pants, looking straight at you, eyes lost in your own gaze, searching for the slightest glimpse of disapprobation.

Nowhere to be found.

“Don’t make any loud noises. You’ll regret it” She advised spitefully, in an inaudible whisper, her lips almost caressing yours. “Understood?” She then questioned rhetorically.

“Y…yes” you answered uncertainly, still a bit confused of what was just occurring in front of you.

“Good girl. Open your legs.” She announced in a rough voice. An order, that’s what it really sounded like.

You did so, spreading both of your lower members without any difficulties on the bathroom cabinet, sitting in-between the two sinks. Your movement seemed to please her because her lips curved into a small angelic and exited smile. The black haired woman placed both of her hand on each individual knees before pulling you closer to her.

She put one knee on the floor, then the second, before pulling down your underwear swiftly with her fingers. It was delicate, surprisingly. Your eyes weren’t missing a single piece of this moment, amazed and still a bit shocked.

“You’re a dirty girl you know. Couldn’t have guessed that.” She remarked, holding your pink lace lingerie in her pale hand, her curious and mocking gaze all over your underwear. “I wonder if the top is the same.” She started after dropping your pantie on the bare floor, “or let me guess, you’re not even wearing anything under your shirt? Hm?”

“I…”

“Shh…bad girls don’t talk.” She said, standing back up quickly and placing her hand on your face, her thumb caressing your cheek. You couldn’t even tell what was going on in her mind, her movements towards you didn’t give any further details. Was she playing with you? Maybe one of her friends was hiding and recording all of that? You didn’t know. You should’ve stopped.

But you didn’t want to.

Mikasa took both sides of your skirt and lifted it a bit, exposing your pubis to her perverted gaze and, suddenly, her mouth was painted with a very big and bright smile, as if this scenery was all the needed, everything she always wanted.

You were now all naked, with the exception of your skirt, that was still covering your ass and not allowing the cold surface to come in contact with your bare skin.

And yeah, she was right, you weren’t wearing anything under your shirt.

Her tongue wandering playfully around your warm core, you mentally begged her to pleasure you. You needed it, so, so much. It's funny when you think about it; you just hated her more than anyone on this earth some minutes ago and now, she’s between your legs at your most vulnerable state.

“Mikasa…. Can you…” you tried to say.

“Quiet.” She replied spitefully, the sound of her voice slightly muffled since her head was buried in your lower body. The raven-haired woman placed both of your legs on her shoulders, your knees bending at the curve of her bones.

It’s her tongue that you felt first, sliding slowly between your fold, trying to find its way to your clit. And it did find, pretty quickly, like it always belonged here. She moved it very slowly, at first, making sure to not hurt you or making you uncomfortable.

You grabbed her black hair, trying to keep your noises for yourself, as she ordered you to some minutes prior. You could feel every little thing, her steady and serene breath on your vulva, her nose brushing slightly against your mons pubis and her right hand stroking gently your right knee.

“See? When you close this fucking mouth…” she said between loud respiration. It seemed like she was talking to herself, actually. But you still listened carefully. “You…you’re fucking delicious…I knew it.” She continued, her words feeling even better on your clit because of the air she was releasing when she was pronouncing them.

Two fingers. Or maybe three, you couldn’t even tell. She started moving them very slowly inside of you, trying to follow the rhythm of her tongue at the same time. It was the same identical pace, you could tell. It felt fantastic.

You couldn’t even stop the noises from escaping your lips, it was impossible. Never in your life you have felt that great, that pleasured.

Her lips and tongue sucking on your clit, you almost didn’t notice when she replaced her mouth with her thumb. She got up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and got closer to you and, as a whisper, planted some soft kisses on your temples and your nose. You glimpsed a change in her behaviour, almost unnoticeable, but it was here.

“Mika….Mikasa…it…” you tried to say once again, but this time she didn’t interrupt you or, not directly; you simply couldn’t talk anymore.

“It feels good doesn’t it baby?” She whispered in your ear sensually. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” She continued.

“V…very very good…” you mumbled.

“Very good? Is that so?” She questioned gently, her knuckles moving back and forth inside your folds. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you sweetheart?” She asked as well after noticing your hands, who tried to grab her shirt uncontrollably.

You nodded quickly. But she stopped.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?” Mikasa said, looking straight in your eyes, a devilish smile on her angelic face.

“Mhh…. Please….why did you…” You protested, not even paying attention to the things she was saying.

“I won’t continue if you don’t say it back.”

“I… I’m y…yours…”

You finally felt her hands moving back in your body, allowing you to properly cum, your head buried in the crook of her neck as she was trying to keep her balance with her free hand, positioned on the mirror behind you.

“Turns out I was right all this time huh?” She started, once out of the bathroom, both of you looking all innocent, as if nothing had happened. “You’re such a slut.” She quietly proceeded in your ear.

You were right too, it was jealousy all of this time.

Thank you a lot for reading <333 reblogs and comments are pretty much welcomed !! Have a nice day!

<- Masterlist

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY FOUR || ACCOMPLICES

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + nitta akari from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of curses + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 22 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but….

↳ previous episode : the origin of blind obedience 2

↳ barista’s notes : so here we are for the final episode of season one of jujutsu kaisen for my series, it’s been a long journey since i started this in early feburary and now it is late may ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ wow times does go really fast, doesn’t it? well, i hope you enjoy this cup of special classic black coffee and prepare for the jujutsu strolls that are going to be coming soon when you ask for a bit of milk in your coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’.

Hakufuku : 10:19-10:32

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better…

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 1ST YEAR

“Here you go, you’ll need this”

Turning his head to look up, Fushiguro quickly noticed someone standing over him with their hand stretched out in front of him leading his eyes to peer down, only to notice a bandage wrap within the palm of their hands causing him to turn away as if he was looking away in disgust.

“Here you go, you’ll need this, you drag,” you repeated with the insult causing an irk to appear on Fushiguro’s forehead before turning to look at you with an annoyed expression present on his face.

“Go away, I don’t need it,” Fushiguro mentioned with some hint of annoyance and irritation within his tone causing the same irk to appear on your forehead as you then turned your head to look at the pile of beaten bodies that were behind him - an unsightly common sight since you enrolled into Saitama Urami East Junior High.

Sighing out loud, you suddenly grabbed the back of Fushiguro’s collar and began dragging him across the floor towards the bench that was close by (much to Fushiguro’s annoyance) and threw his body slight causing his upper shoulder area to hit the wooden side of the bench which lead him to hiss in pain.

“I don’t need it~ well sounds like you do,” you teased in a nonchalant manner causing Fushiguro to give you a sharp glare only to see that you had no reaction to it. Reaching into your blazer pocket, you took out a box of painkillers with some plasters in different sizes and a small pot of ointment before placing them on the outdoor bench.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?” you rhetorically asked your classmate before turning back to walk away from the situation since you knew Fushiguro was going to question you on your knowledge about his sister even though he - on the outside - never really took the time to appreciate her or showed that he cared.

“What a drag,” you commented with another sigh before stretching your arms down to release the act that was slowly creeping its way to your shoulders as some students began to exit out of the school building to eat their lunch causing them to notice you as you gave them a little wave.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ever since that day, Fushiguro couldn’t help but begin to notice you slightly from the corner of his eyes as each day went by. At first, you sort of blended into the crowd in the sea of uniforms that was travelling around in the hallway, seeming to not want any attention from the teachers nor the students alike yet you seemed to somehow attract them leading you to offer the same small smile that he had somewhat gotten used to.

On the other hand, Fushiguro couldn’t help but get slightly annoyed at how your name was being called by the second, it was always “Y/N” this or “Y/N” that since you hated your last name being called. As in a matter of fact, he didn’t even have any acknowledgement or a hint of a clue of what your last name was at all. However, when you would say your name in your own tone, Fushiguro slowly began to notice how he then wouldn't get irritated causing a wave of confusion to hit him every time he would wonder why.

“Y/N, aren’t you going to participate in the elections for the student council, the teachers have nominated you?” one female student asked in a light tone causing Fushiguro to peak slightly over his arm as he was taking a nap for this lunch break, only to see you holding a book with a few other female students surrounding you.

“Nah, it’s such a drag...I don’t like taking responsibility for things,” you commented softly as you placed your thumb over the last word you were reading to keep a hold of your place causing the students around you to become confused before asking more questions causing some of your answers to perplex the erratic haired boy himself.

“I’m not good at organising things”

“I don’t have the time”

“I don’t like helping people”

“Liar,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath before closing his eyes again to fall into a quick nap while repeating the last words you had said to the students around you.

“I don’t like helping people”

If you really didn’t like helping people, then why did you help him a few weeks ago? As well as leaving some first aid kit items on his table at the end of lunch to restock shall he say? Sure, you had helped other people here and there from letting them copy your notes to little study sessions during lunch to help the other person concentrate but he was wondering why you would help a delinquent like him...but further yet, why didn’t you ask for anything in return.

“Y/N, I found you,” someone shouted, causing Fushiguro’s ears to spike up once he knew the familiar tone to the voice that decided to enter the conversation.

“I wanted to apologise for Megumi’s behaviour for the past weeks and wanted to pay you back for the medical items you had given him,” Tsumiki informed you causing Fushiguro to slowly open his eyes again to see Tsumiki’s arm outstretched with some cash within her palm while you looked down on at with a hint of disappointment in your face.

“Don’t bother your sister too much...okay?”

Placing your bookmark on the page you were on, you gently placed it down before folding Tsumiki’s fingers over the money she was kindly offering you as payment, leading her to give you a surprising expression since, with that action, she instantly knew you were declining.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to repay me...Just take care of him, okay?” you mentioned with a soft tone before smiling up at your senior leading Fushiguro’s curiosity about you to heighten up even further than it was at the beginning.

“I don’t like helping people”

SAITAMA URAMI EAST JUNIOR HIGH - 2ND YEAR

Walking in the school hallways, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice how the gloomy and mundane weather was reflecting everyone’s mood as it seemed as if everyone had a lack of energy this morning and to be honest, he couldn’t blame them one single bit.

It was the day after, Tsumiki decided to attempt the test of courage at Yasohachi Bridge causing her to become cursed as she fell into a sudden coma causing guilt to begin eating him almost wholly as he took each step in the hallway.

From what he recalled, Gojo had mentioned that Tsumiki was somewhat saved by a cursed technique leading her to not become physically injured at the attempt of jumping off, yet that didn’t save her from the curse that fell upon her since the lingering reverse cursed energy that was surrounding her body wasn’t enough or effective on her and the other students that decided to tag along with her leading him to wonder who was the person that tried to save his sister and her friends from that night.

Suddenly, Fushiguro heard something drop from behind causing him to turn his body completely, only to discover a fallen student leading him to widen his eyes on the sight before crouching down to check the pulse of the person only to discover that they were fine, as he then processed to turn his head to the side where more students from the classroom beside him began to drop one by one leading him to become more panicked since this was just the day after Tsumiki’s curse.

Unexpatantly, Fushiguro heard someone beginning to run towards his direction causing him to turn his head once again, only to find you running towards him with a somewhat worried expression on your face as you began to look at each classroom to see all the students within them passed out.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted in a panic leading him to quickly stand up on his feet as he reached out to you so he could rush you out of the school building to get you to Gojo to ensure your safety. If you were able to help him multiple times, maybe this time he could help you as his repayment.

Grabbing your hand, Fushiguro turned to his feet to begin running but for some reason, you weren’t running with him due to the halt of his movements when trying to pull you towards the exit of the school.

“Y/N, what are you doing? We got to run!” Fushiguro shouted in anger as he turned his head to face you eye to eye, only to come into eye contact with dark but glowing purple eyes causing his body to slowly become limp as his vision began to become gradually disorientated as an illusion of purple cherry blossoms began to fall around the both of you.

“Hakufuku”

Suddenly, Fushiguro began to lose his footing causing his body to quickly fall, only for you to catch him in your arms as you slowly lowered yourself to make sure his body didn’t harshly hit the floor due to any injuries he had gained from yesterday’s fight as you laid him on his side.

“Sorry, Fushiguro,” you whispered with a hint of regret before rapidly standing back up to run the other way which seemed towards the school’s computer’s system leading him slowly turn his head as he struggled to reach out towards your direction before the same arm dropped completely while his mind began to grow blank while your figure steadily disappeared from his sights while his memories of you began to gradually fade as he tried to maintain them with such difficulty.

“Y/N…”

THE DAY BEFORE THE MISSON

“You’ve been reading those books for quite some time, you know”

Turning your head away from the book placed upon your lap, you discovered Gojo in front of you with a teasing smile on his face as his body was leaning on the side of the doorway he had entered from.

“Well, there are quite a few to go through,” you muttered as you turned your head to the other side to see two piles of stacked up books that were somewhat in equal height right now with one pile of the books that you needed to read while the other was the books you had finished reading during the past weeks since you had moved into the Gojo’s clan estate.

From what you could recall the day you stepped foot into Gojo’s house, he had surprisingly guided you into a room that was filled with bookshelves that had books comfortably sitting in its place causing your eyes to widen at the sight only for him to inform you that all that books had belonged in your name.

“All of them belong to me?” you remembered asking leading your adoptive father to giggle slightly at your confused and flustered state as you began to roam around the pathway the bookshelves had given you, only to land on a particular shelf that had books written from your clan to which seemed to be addressed to you.

“I see you found the books, your mother was really smart to lock them and make sure you’re the only person who could read them,” Gojo mentioned to you when he had found you staring at them leading you to turn to him with a perplexed expression only for him to further explain that whenever he tried to touch the weathered spine of the book he would feel an invisible barrier blocking his movements and even when he attempted to use his infinity, there was no use.

However, when it was you, it just seemed like a normal book due to how easily you pull gently and carefully pull it out of the shelf and open it, only for Gojo to comment that all he could see what blank pages yet sense the linger cursed energy that was coming through the paper-based artefact. While on the other hand, you were able to view the elegant black brush strokes gracing the paper which was slightly confusing since you weren’t able to fully comprehend the poetic and outdated Japanese due to how influential the Chinese language was during the Heian era.

“I can’t believe you are technically older than me~” Gojo teased while wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye, causing you to immediately snap out of your daydream to fully turn to him with a completely annoyed expression painted on your face.

“I DIDN’T AGE ONCE DURING MY SEALING, YOU DRAG!” you screamed in irritation causing the servant who was coming to serve you some tea to stumble slightly before regaining her balance as she let out a sigh of relief, leading you to deeply apologise to her before rushing up to your feet to help her on carrying the wooden, circular tea tray that she was holding on for you.

“I wish I got to see you grow into the woman that you are by the time you are reading this, but may you bloom into the sorcerer that you dream to be” - Your mother.

ꕥ

“GOJO! GOJO!”

Slowly, from the loud shouting that was going on, you began to groan in annoyance while opening your eyes to find Itadori and Kugisaki kneeling in front of you with panicked expressions residing in their faces before steadily turning into relief once they noticed that you were smiling at them.

“Good job,” you whispered to them before resting your head back on the tree you were leaning on causing them to smile brightly back at you before high-fiving each other as they shouted on how relief they were as they already had a fright when they discovered Fushiguro laying on their ground before trying to find you.

“Did you collect the finger?” you questioned your classmates leading them to all freeze in a panic since they didn’t expect you to know about the issue with the special curse that was lingering within the domain that you were all previously in. As a matter of fact, you had already sensed it a few moments ago as well those three years back when you were in middle school.

“Ah...about that...Itadori ate it…” Fushiguro muttered in embarrassment, causing you to look at him with a blank stare before turning your head towards Itadori, who was now looking at you with a ‘trying to be innocent’ expression on his face as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

“Sorry, Gojo...It was an accident,” Itadori stuttered in a light tone, while you continued to give him the blank expression before hitting his head with the handle of your katana causing him to hold the area while wincing in pain as you began to stand up on your feet.

“HEY! YOU FOUR!”

Due to the sudden shouting, everyone head’s to shot up to find Nitta screaming at you and your classmates from above while waving her fist in such an erratic way, trying to emphasise her anger to all of you at this current moment in time.

“What have you four been doing? You wouldn’t answer my calls!” Nitta yelled, causing her voice to echo throughout the entire area causing you to wonder if anyone had turned on their lights due to the loud interruptions from their sleep.

“Oh, Nitta-san,” Itadori called out in surprise as he stared up at the irritated woman.

“She’s lost it,” Kugisaki mentioned, as she too was observing the shouting fit that all four of you were enduring right now.

“Well, shall we go home?” Itadori asked as he turned around to face you, leading the other two first-years to turn to look at you as well causing your eyebrows to raise up

‘Ah...I guess I did think about running away for a second....’

“Yeah, let’s go home,” you answered back before beginning to walk forward leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to talk about having Spendud Sushi as dinner while Nitta was continuing to yell at all four of you from above.

“I know as time passes, the more the Earth will push its fangs upon your shoulder and it’s completely my fault and I deeply apologise from the bottom of my heart. I knew the day that I was blessed with you that I desired nothing more than to give you the easiest route away from all the troubles the Zenin clan had put on us, away from the Jujutsu world and away from the loneliness that you will come face to face once I and your father are gone. I adore you with all my heart and want nothing more than your heart to be blessed with trust, happiness and comfort. Wherever you are, just know that I will always look after you, no matter how long I have to wait, I will always be the mother that I wished I could be for you” - Your mother.

ꕥ

“Why did you leave?”

Turning your head to the side, you found Fushiguro standing on the wooden terrace that you were sitting on with a stern look on his face while you just blinked at him before turning your head to face the garden with a book laying upon your lap as you tried a way to figure out how to bring up the topic that you tried to avoid since coming into acquaintance with the shikigami sorcerer.

“What do you mean?” you asked before closing the book in such a gentle manner, worried that you could damage more than it already was - even if it was such in a good condition after enduring itself for 1000 years.

“Why did you leave? Why did you erase my memory? Why did you go?” Fushiguro queried once again, as he decided to take a seat next to you causing anyone who would see both of you and Fushiguro to notice the contrast in your outfits. At this current moment in time, you were wearing a simple yukata due to being at Gojo’s estate - it was common/courtesy to wear traditional clothing - while Fushiguo was wearing a white jumper with what seemed to be black joggers along with some trainers causing you to come to the assumption that he had either can to talk to you or train with Gojo again like he did last time.

“I’m sorry Fushiguro...but I had to do it,” you answered before grabbing the cup of tea that was sitting right beside you as you then took a sip of the warm drink leading some of your nerves to calm down as you also took a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Fushiguro questioned again in a low tone while staring down at the ground trying to compose himself as more memories of you began to steadily flow in.

“It was too risky,” you answered again as you continued to stare at the garden that was blooming in front of you before turning your head to look at your classmate, who seemed to be in deep thought about the response you had just given him.

“I never got to repay you back from the kindness you had given me,” Fushiguro mentioned as he turned his head up to look at you, only to make eye contact leading the memories of your technique to come into his mind.

“I don’t need a repayment, I just did what I wanted to help you,” you replied back as you placed your cup down onto the wooden tray before laying your upper body down on the terrace while your legs were handing off to the side causing your hair to splay across the wooden platform the both of you were sitting on right now.

“But you don’t like helping people,” Fushiguro quickly mentioned as he turned his head to face you, causing your eyes to move from the sky above you to the boy that was now looking at you with a somewhat small smile planted upon his face causing you to remember the conversation that you had with him and Kugisaki about not telling Itadori the reason why numerous amount of cursed fingers that have been popping up recently - making you come to the realisation that he was technically asking you and Kugisaki to help him keep the guilt away from the vessel of Sukuna himself.

“Yeah...I don’t like helping people,” you answered with the same smile as he was presenting you, causing a light giggle to arise from the both of you.

‘I’ll recommend them for a promotion later...’

“Whoever you fall for the sky for, my dear. I wish you nothing but the world’s blessing to fall upon the two of you. May all the flowers that come to bloom will bring you grace and tenderness that you deserve, the same feelings that I wish I could provide to you as a mother like how the sun gives you its warmth” - Your mother.

448 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Beast

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 3,056 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Sub Aaron Hotchner, Inspection, Office sex, Semi-public sex, Oral sex, Tie as restraint, Multiple orgasms, Unprotected sex, Hickies, Subspace, Aftercare Summary: Aaron is having a no good, very bad week, and everyone in the BAU is paying the price. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :) Part of my Aaron/OC Sophie series but can be read alone.

Link to A03 or read more below!

Aaron is having a no good, very bad week, and everyone in the BAU is paying the price.

“He’s being a tyrant,” Morgan gripes as he and Sophie are in the break room after the morning meeting. “Barking orders, looking at me with those narrowed eyes like I'm a goddamn criminal for taking a piss break.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Sophie says, steeping her tea. “He’s just having a really hard time this week. Expense reports and evaluations and budget reviews are all due at once, and we’ve been so busy travelling for cases that he hasn’t had time to start on any of it. He’s just stressed; he doesn’t mean anything by it.” JJ and Emily walk in looking aggravated, and Sophie is willing to bet they just had a run in with Aaron as well.

“Can’t you just fuck it out of him? Isn’t that what you guys do? Heal each other’s wounds lovingly with lots of kinky sex?” Sophie rolls her eyes at Emily.

“Yeah, sure, that’s how it works. And I have totally been fucking him, for the record, but it’s fast-acting, not long-lasting. Don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well that sucks,” JJ mumbles, and Sophie frowns.

“Trust me, no one is more sorry than I am that I can’t ride his dick 24/7.” She sighs, because he has been truly miserable, and she’s not sure what else she can do to help. She’s tried sexy things, sweet things, comforting things, helpful things, letting him just be crabby for a day… nothing. She’s usually the only one who can tame the beast he becomes when he’s the toxic combo of stressed, anxious, and irritated, but she’s out of ideas, and everyone is out of patience.

Even submitting deeply to him, which is usually her last resort, because it’s time consuming, only made him feel better until work the next—huh.

Okay, maybe she does have one trick left up her sleeve. It’s not quite time for lunch yet, but Sophie walks into Aaron’s office, shuts and locks the door behind her; she presses her back against it, and when he looks up from his form to give her his full attention, she steps forward.

“Open your pants.” He swallows, carefully sets down the pen he’s holding.

“What, baby?”

“I said open your pants, Aaron. Now. Time for a cock inspection.” He closes his eyes, exhales, and stands, opens his belt, pulls down his zipper. She walks closer, hands clasped behind her back like she’s going to administer an SAT and not play with his dick until he’s uncomfortably hard and begging to come. “Lean up against your desk for me.”

He does as instructed, cock bobbing free, his palms pressed to the top of the desk for support, and she pushes his chair back, stands in front of him, moves her hands to her hips.

“Okay, baby, you know what I’m looking for. I want to see your big, hard cock—I know I surprised you, so I’ll give you some time.” She leans in, wraps a couple of fingers around the base to hold him steady, rubs the tip of another finger gently over the slit. He’s not fully hard yet, but getting there quickly; submitting to her is something that never fails to get him going, even if it doesn’t happen very often. “If you dribble out a little precome for me, I’ll reward you,” she reminds him, looking up, and his chest is heaving, his eyes dark.

She’s still turned on by how broad his shoulders are, how his big hands splay out on the desk, fingers spread; that doesn’t change just because he’s submissive. Sometimes it can be hard to remember he’s not being daddy, because she always thinks of him as daddy, but this is special, and she knows he needs her to be in charge today, so she focuses, for him.

“When it’s time, I’ll want your come in my mouth, and I’ll want a lot of it. If you don’t come enough for me, if you don’t fill my mouth, baby, you’ll be disciplined. Understand?” He nods.

“I understand.” She smiles, just a bit.

“Good boy. I know you’ll be perfect for me, because you always want to please me. You give me everything I want.” She runs a hand over his chest, gropes a little. “I won’t make you undress for this, since we’re at work, but tonight I want you stripped down and waiting for me on the bed when we get home. I want to taste you everywhere.” She leans up to lick the underside of his chin, and he blows out a trembling breath. “Understand?”

“I understand,” he rasps, and she pulls back, gets down on her knees so she’s at eye-level with his dick.

“Good boy,” she says right to it, and Aaron flexes his hands, moans softly. It’s very hard now, thick and veiny and hot, standing up without her help, and she curls her tongue around his balls, squeezes them with her fingers. “Mmm. Your balls are full, Aaron. I bet you’ll have some come left for me even after I swallow for you. I wonder if I could keep you hard enough to put it in my pussy; it might be a little uncomfortable, but you’d let me try, right?”

“My body is yours to use however you want, baby,” he murmurs, and she looks up, scrapes her nails over his lower belly. He licks his lips.

“Yes it is. We’ll see.” She looks back down, runs her fingers up the shaft slowly, rubs a little in a way that will provide just enough friction to make him desperate for more and provide no relief. “You got long and stiff for me quickly today, sweet boy. Very good work.” She swipes her tongue up his length, and he bucks his hips once before stilling again. She squeezes his thigh. “You get a warning for that, Aaron, but just one. Keep still for me; you know the rule.”

“I’m sorry. I know the rule,” he pants, and she licks him again, three times in succession; his hips remain still.

“That’s better. Are you drippy for me?” she asks rhetorically, and she pulls down on his dick to get a better look at the slit. There is a pool of precome, surely enough, that spills down the head at her touch, and she puts her mouth on him far enough to catch the drop, sucks softly as she pulls off. “Mmm. Tastes good, delicious boy. Maybe when you come I’ll keep my mouth open, so you can see how much you’re giving me. I hope it will be enough, because I’d hate to have to discipline you.”

“I hope so too,” he says, his voice tense with arousal. She brings her fingers to the head, presses against it so it’s laying against his stomach, and rubs a little, again more of a tease than anything. That doesn’t stop Aaron’s breath from hitching, his knuckles from turning white against the edge of the desk. “Oh, fuck.”

“Mm hmm. Feels good, doesn’t it? Everything I do feels good when I touch you so little; you’re desperate for it, my perfect boy. Perfect, horny, desperate boy.”

“Everything you do feels good always, baby. I’m so fucking desperate for you,” he pants. She stands smoothly, takes his chin in her hand, and pulls him down for a deep, wet kiss they both moan into.

“Time for your reward,” she breathes when the kiss breaks. “Then more inspection. You are not allowed to come. If you waste your orgasm, you won’t get another until Sunday. Do you understand?” It’s only Thursday, so this would be pure torture and they both know it. Aaron nods, wets his lips.

“I understand.”

“Good boy,” she says, and she puts her hands on his body, moves him toward the chair, gestures for him to sit in it. He does, and she steps between his knees, wraps a hand around his tie, pulls it so he’ll look up at her. “I love you, sweetheart. You’re doing so good for me. I know you’re going to like this reward, but you know what to say if you want to stop, right?” He nods tightly.

“I know what to say. Thank you. I love you.”

She hums, kisses him again, then unknots the tie, pulls it off slowly. His hands are resting on the arms of the chair, and she takes the tie and wraps it around one several times, knots it tightly. Aaron groans, tips his head back, and he looks so fucking sexy she could combust.

“Where’s your spare?” she asks, ignoring his sounds, ignoring her throbbing pussy, and he points to the third drawer on the left hand side. She opens it, finds the other tie, restrains his free arm just like the other; she is soaking wet when she admires her handiwork, and she’s very glad it’s reward time. Leaning against the desk like he did, she shimmies her skirt up, hops onto it, stretches back, supported by her hands. “Eat me until I come, Aaron. Don’t be afraid to get messy.”

He whimpers, and he’s still a little too far away for that, so she pulls his chair closer with her feet and hitches her knees up, giving him an unobstructed view of her bare, wet pussy. She praises herself for slipping away to the bathroom to take off her panties before coming up here.

“Jesus,” he groans, and he leans in, dips his tongue inside her immediately, collecting her slick, and her hips stutter, taking him deeper. “Mmh.” She runs her fingers through his hair, scrapes at his scalp, makes him moan again.

“Good boy. That feels so good. Fuck me with your tongue, baby, I want to feel it.” She’s sure it’s not that easy, without his hands to help, but he does shove it repeatedly inside of her, and she rocks against his face, keeping his rhythm. “Yes, sweet boy, just like that. So perfect, Aaron.”

He keeps it up for a couple of minutes, then pulls back, takes a deep breath and dives back in, licking up her slit to change things up, sucking on her lips. She rolls her body, both hands on his head, and squeezes her thighs together briefly; it feels really good, but also gets Aaron moaning like nothing else, and she has to shush him so no one hears.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you like that, but we have to keep quiet, sweetheart. If you want to come, you need to keep quiet.” She tugs him by his hair so he’ll lift off of her pussy; his mouth is shiny and wet, lips red, eyes wide and deep and dark, and she has half a mind to just say fuck it and let him dick her down on the desk, let the whole office hear, but she takes a deep breath, composes herself like a good little domme. “Are you alright to finish me, or was that enough?” she asks, and he nods, frantic.

“I want to finish, please. I want to eat your come, please,” he tells her, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip and brings his head back between her legs. That’s an offer she can’t refuse.

“Oh, fuck, yes, sweet boy,” she praises softly as he doubles down on his efforts to get her off. She wraps her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, pulls him closer, hooks her legs over his shoulders and tries her best to keep quiet as he brings her—sloppily but oh so wonderfully—to a leg-shaking, heart-pounding, breathless climax.

The first thing she wants to do after is slide off the desk into a puddle on the floor, but Aaron will need praise and affection from her, she remembers. She leans up, still a little shaky, and rubs her hands over his back as he laps at her come and slick as promised. Whoo boy. Naturally, Aaron finds a way to make his special sub time revolve around her pleasure and his prowess, however unintentionally.

“That’s enough, my good boy. You did amazing, baby, let me see your handsome face.” He looks up at her, rests his head on her thigh, thoroughly exhausted in a way you can only be after serving someone with everything you have. Real subspace is rare for him, but he’s there, and she’s glad. She knows he needed it desperately. “So perfect, sweetheart. My incredible, gorgeous husband. I love you so much.”

She reaches behind her, grabs some tissues Aaron keeps handy for tears and/or sex fluids, and cleans off his face, curls to take it in her hands so she can kiss him soft and sweet and loving.

“Did you come, baby?” she asks gently, and he shakes his head no. She caresses him, hugs him, kisses his face. “Oh, so smart and obedient. Amazing boy. Are you ready to finish inspection?”

“Yes, please,” he says softly, and she kisses his lips, pushes his chair back a little, and gets on her knees in front of him.

His cock is covered in precome now, but thankfully none got on his pants; she cleans him up slowly with her tongue, and he whimpers, his body practically trembling with need.

“Please. Please, Sophie,” he says, breathing hard. She takes one soft lick of his head and brushes her fingers through his hair.

“Shh. I’ve got you, baby. Your cock is perfect today, just like always—big and hard and pretty, wet and hot and delicious. Time to come for me, lots and lots, sweetheart, okay?” She runs her hands over his body, and he nods, leans down for a kiss.

She puts her mouth around him, strokes him, sucks him wet and tight, and, unsurprisingly, he finds his orgasm quickly, grips the arms of the chair tightly, gasps in pleasure. She slowly opens her mouth while stroking him, so he can watch himself spurt onto her tongue, and he’s blinking slowly, sighing deeply when he’s finished.

Only, he’s not finished, as she recalls. She climbs into his lap, pets his head, runs her hands over his bound arms, and kisses his lips.

“Can I fuck you, sweet boy? One more orgasm for both of us; I know you can do it.” He groans but nods his head, and she lines him up at her entrance, sinks down to take him in easily. They both moan louder than they should, and she rides him fast and hard, tugging his hair, biting his throat. “Yes, baby, perfect, baby. You came so good for me before, so much, perfect. You can come for me again, just a little. Just a little, sweetheart.”

“Oh, fuck. Sophie, fuck,” he groans, and she works the collar of his shirt open, bares the fleshy part of his shoulder, and bites and sucks a hickey there while she moves in his lap, fingers still tight against his scalp. “Yes, please, harder.” She’s not sure if he wants her mouth, hand, or hips to go harder, so she goes for all three, and he grunts and comes inside her again, just barely, but the way his body shakes tells her it was good regardless.

“Perfect, sweet, good boy, that’s just what I wanted. You came for me again, baby. God, you’re so good.” She focuses all her attention on his face, his mouth, kissing him and whispering into his ear, and then she comes too and they spend a moment just looking at each other, panting against each other’s lips.

When she feels like she might be able to climb out of his lap without tipping over, she does, gets to work untying his arms right away. He flexes his wrists, stands carefully, and puts both hands on her face, kisses her with such passion she almost falls, too. When he pulls back, he wets his lips, exhales deeply.

“My god, baby.” The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile, and he smiles too, even though she’s fucking destroyed him; she thinks it was kind of what he needed, to crumble like ash so he can rise from it a little healthier, a little happier. She grabs more tissues and cleans off his cock, helps him get himself back together. She already misses the bruise she put on him, wishes she could leave his collar open for the world to see, but she’ll get to play with it tonight, so things could be worse.

“You were being a real beast today, sweetheart. It was the only thing I hadn’t tried, and the villagers were about to come burn down your castle, so… Figured it couldn’t hurt.” She leans up to kiss him, then cleans up her own situation, lets him fluff her hair and straighten her clothes because he likes doing that for her. “So here’s some water for the love of my life,” she says, handing him his bottle, “and I can run down to grab our lunches in a minute. Would you like to cuddle on the sofa first?”

They do, and he puts her legs in his lap and just clings to her, presses his face against her throat, breathes against her pulse. She sits with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, slips her fingers through his hair, and when there’s only a little time left in their lunch hour he tells her he’ll come down with her to grab their food, to refill his water bottle.

The atmosphere in the bullpen is a little tense when they pass through, but on their way back up to his office, she makes a joke about her being the beauty and him being the beast, and how that makes the others teacups and wardrobes and candlesticks (JJ is the teacup, Derek is the wardrobe, Spencer is the candlestick, that’s just how it is) and they both laugh, and sigh, and smile. She’s missed this while he’s been unhappy, hopes to god it lasts. Friday morning, Aaron is in a great mood, and they have sleepy, happy morning sex, and then they pick up donuts and good coffee for everyone, and Sophie gets several pats on the back from the members of her team.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x original female character #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #latina original female character #sub aaron hotchner #beast #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

Heather Hills

Rodrick Heffley x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1410 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Rodrick’s best friend finally telling him the truth about how she feels

——————————————————————————————————

It was no secret that Rodrick had a crush.

You knew that better than anyone.

As his best and only friend, there was no way you could have escaped the dark haired males crush on Heather Hills. It was practically all he ever talked about.

...And you couldn’t exactly blame him.

It wasn’t lost on you that she was literal perfection. How could it have been? She had been the main reason for your insecurities growing up with her perfect skin and long blonde hair.

Seeing her in gym class was enough to make you hate yourself in middle school and you certainly hadn’t gotten over that as the two of you grew older.

You knew that Rodrick wasn’t the only guy who was infatuated with her and you also knew that there was a reason they didn’t look at you like that.

She was a regular beauty queen and you fit in closer with the stoners and social rejects. You would never be the prom queen or a perfect size 2 and until recently, you were okay with that.

It just wasn’t who you were.

However, the more Rodrick obsessed over the way she looked and how much he wanted to get her attention, the more you struggled with it.

You’d come to terms with the fact that you couldn’t be her but knowing that he wanted her was just too much.

It was something you’d tried to ignore for the longest time but when you stepped back and looked at it, there was no avoiding the truth.

You had a crush on him.

You had a crush on your childhood best friend. It was potentially the most stupid thing you’d ever do in your life and nothing good could come of it, but you couldn’t help it.

As stubborn and stupid as he could be, Rodrick cared about you and you two had a lot in common. It was only natural that at a certain point, your feelings change.

Though, as much as you couldn’t change the way you felt, you also couldn’t do anything about the way he surely saw you. No matter what you did, you’d never be Heather Hills.

...So, that was that.

You weren’t stupid enough to keep pining after someone who would never love you and you also wouldn’t risk your friendship over something so stupid.

It wasn’t worth throwing away a lifetime of friendship for, no matter how much it hurt.

“She so wants me”

You briefly caught Rodrick’s dreamy tone as he spoke, though your mind was a million miles away. The two of you were currently sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for a good time to sneak out for the day.

Evidently, that was when he caught sight of Heather across the hallway with her friends. She couldn’t have been more oblivious of him but that wasn’t stopping him from going on and on.

There was nothing you could do, so you were content with just sitting there with an apple in hand. It was much easier to give the fruit all your attention rather than watch him oogle her for the next half hour.

“Don’t you think so?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face when you didn’t answer him. You usually weren’t this quiet, so he was sure that something was up.

If nothing else, you would normally laugh.

Though, nothing of the sort came from you this time. In fact, you didn’t say anything even when he asked point blank, which even Rodrick couldn’t misconstrue.

You were upset about something.

“Hey, what’s up?”

All you did was sigh, gingerly letting your gaze slip to his face as you bit into your apple. It was pretty aggressive, all things considered, but you didn’t care.

Not right now.

“Nothing. I’m sure Heather is gonna waltz right over here and confess her undying love to you” you grumbled, snatching your bag from the ground as you stood, leaving before you could say anything else.

It was just too much.

The small exchange didn’t seem like much but coupled with the last few weeks of having to hear about her nonstop, you couldn’t help it.

It was bad enough that you knew Rodrick would never have feelings for you but knowing that he was so obsessed with her just added fuel to the fire.

You couldn’t compare to her, even if you wanted to.

Rodrick was admittedly stunned at the hostility in your voice but more shocking than your reaction was the fact that he had no idea why you were upset.

Nothing had happened, but even if it had, you’d never reacted to Rodrick like that. Even when you’d gotten mad at something stupid he’d said in the past, you never stormed off.

You were the type to talk it out, even if you had to scream at him to get it.

“Hey, what is going on?” he asked finally, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder.

It had taken him a bit of time to catch up to you, still trying to figure out what had happened. So much time that you’d managed to get to the front courtyard outside the school before he could reach your side.

“Come on, what was that?” Rodrick wondered, after a few seconds of silence. Something was definitely up but there was no way he’d be able to figure out on his own.

...And you both knew it.

The trouble was that you weren’t sure if you were ready to be honest about what you were feeling. You knew that nothing good could come of it, but there was no way around it.

You had started this. You couldn’t just be quiet and now you were going to pay for it.

“I can’t compare to her” you mumbled, dropping your eyes to the floor as soon as you saw the concerned look on your best friend’s face.

No matter how much he liked to act like he didn’t, you knew that he had one of the biggest hearts of all time and that was one of the things you loved most about him.

At first, Rodrick didn’t understand.

For him, this whole thing had come out of nowhere but as quickly as you’d said it, he put the pieces together. It didn’t really make sense, but he knew you had to be talking about Heather.

That was what had started this whole thing.

“Why would you have to compare to her? I don’t understand” he allowed, confused about how you’d ended up here in the first place. All you’d been doing was having a conversation but somehow it had blown up in his face.

It didn’t make any sense.

...And of course it didn’t.

You had intentionally been hiding your feelings for him for quite some time, so he wasn’t supposed to know. In fact, you didn’t even want this to come out now.

You’d just ended up here due to the circumstances.

“Ugh, of course you don’t, why would you?” you wondered, though the question was clearly rhetorical. The words left your lips as gingerly as they could, as you sat down on the curb.

You were trying to go for broke, but it was harder than you thought it would be.

“You wanna explain it to me?” Rodrick clarified, sitting down beside you, his boots crunching on the asphalt as he moved. You looked so lost, the thoughts in your head beating you down.

The possibility of losing your best friend was terrifying but you’d taken this much too far. If you backed down, you would just have to explain it to him later.

Rodrick wasn’t the sort of man to ever back down from anything, and he would never let you get away with doing the same.

“Not really”

There was silence on your end for a moment, but as you stared down at your feet on the street, you decided to just go for it. You had your dirty chucks on, the ones that Rodrick always doodled on in class when he was bored.

On the toe, he’d even scribbled his initials there.

That was when you figured it out. No matter how much you tried to keep it to yourself or hide it away, it was never going to change. You were always going to have feelings for him.

You just had to be honest and hope for the best.

“I’m in love with you, you idiot”

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floating-mid-air · 3 years

Text

The Princess of all Saiyans

Masterlist

Hey Everyone! It's been a while. My life's been kind of hectic the past couple of months. Long story short: I Graduated from Highschool this year, so I was busy with everything having to do with that. Then my summer job sadly prevented me from writing as well. And then I started College, which was a big change for me. For now, there are no more chapters in my life opening or closing. Now I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable continuing this book again. I could've honestly been writing during all of this chaos. But I wouldn't have been pleased with the quality of my writing. I'm really excited to get back into the swing of things. I don't think this chapter panned out the way I originally planned, but I'm still happy with it. As always, I hope you enjoy it. And if you have any comments or concerns, feel free to let me know. My inbox is always open!

Chapter 11

You've been walking for quite some time now, and the experience has been excruciating. You haven't been in this much pain since you and Raditz were on planet Telia, ten-something years ago. Those damn underlings were able to get a good sneak attack on you. Though you can't say, you let them get away scot-free. You made sure to make their entire dreadful race pay for that injury. You and Raditz had covered up that incident, much like you're doing with your current injury.

"So---" You can hear Goku talking to Krillin from just slightly left of you. "Did you guys find the senzu beans?" Wow, Kakarot may be the least subtle creature you've ever encountered.

"Ya." Krillin chuckles. "All four of us were in pretty rough shape." Goku glances at you with a worried look on his face. You glare at him as Raditz eyes the two of you skeptically. He knows something's off between the two of you. Maybe something serious did happen while you and his brother were trapped together.

A bit more time has passed, and you've been trying your best to keep up with the others. But it isn't as easy as you thought. You're now trailing behind the rest of them, with Raditz turning back to look at you every so often. The largest Saiyan slows down to catch up with your slower pace, now walking beside you.

He turns to you, whispering in a low tone. "Something's off." Raditz can no longer stay silent about his concerns. First, it was the strange vibes between you and Kakarot. And now it's your out-of-character demeanor making him uneasy.

"About what?"

"You. Typically you walk beside your brother, and when he doesn't let you, you make sure you're always only a few paces behind. But right now, you couldn't be more content to trail everyone. Plus, you're far too confident to not be in the very front." Raditz has been around far too long for your liking. Damn him. He knows you far too well, and you hate him for it.

You roll your eyes at him. "So this conclusion of yours is based on the way I'm walking? I'm tired. When I fought, Burter, that physically drained me. And then I got trapped in a ditch with your moronic brother, that mentally drained me. I'm exhausted, Raditz."

"It's not just the way you're walking. It's your mannerisms as well." He points at your side. "Your hand hasn't moved from your side from the moment I first saw you."

"God, Raditz." You scoff. "Stop overanalyzing everything."

"Getting defensive now? That's your M.O whenever you're hiding something." He looks back and forth between your face and your hand that has remained glued to your side. The gears in the older Saiyan's head slowly but surely turning. " Y/N, are you hurt?"

"No." You snap your eyes shut, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to suppress a wince of pain. "I'm fine."

He tilts his head at you. "Y/N, I know you claim otherwise, but I'm not stupid. I know you're in pain."

You chuckle softly in a self-pitying way. "Am I that easy to read?"

Raditz shakes his head, smiling to himself. "No, I've just known you for a long time now." He returns to his serious demeanor, his gaze returning to the area of your wound. "How bad is it?"

"I barely feel it at all. Though, climbing out of that ditch must have reopened the cut."

Raditz snickers. "You're a bad liar."

"That's strange. I've been told in the past that I'm quite good at lying."

A smirk spreads across Raditz's lips. "Well, you apparently aren't when I'm involved."

The larger Saiyan glances at the back of your brother's head. You respond with a glare, firmly pulling on a large chunk of his hair. You know what Raditz wants to do, and it's not happening. "Don't even think about it."

"I-I think we should tell him Y/N."

"No." You let go of his hair, tapping his chest with extreme force. "You're going to keep your big mouth shut. Vegeta will freak out. You know how irrational he gets."

Raditz decides to let you have your way--- for now. The man can't help but wonder why you're so stubborn, but then again, his nature isn't much different from yours.

With every minute that passes, your condition only seems to worsen. Your eyes even start to droop. "Y/N?" Raditz turns to you, his features beginning to fill with worry. He places one of his large hands on your forehead. You're burning up. "You have a fever. Your wound must be infected."

"No." You shake your head in disagreement, almost like a child. As your mental state becomes more and more delirious.

"Vegeta!" Raditz shouts, gaining your brother's attention.

"Fuck you, Raditz! You're such a blabbermouth!" You shout at the larger Saiyan in front of you.

"What's wrong this time? Is my sister trying to pull you into another one of her elaborate schemes?"

"Y/N's hurt--- bad." Vegeta's eyes widen, and not even a millisecond later, he rushes to your side. "She has a fever. I think her cut is infected."

"Where is it?" He crosses his arms at you, noticing your hand placed firmly on your side. He moves your hand out of the way with ease, lifting your armor. "How did this happen?"

"Burter nicked me during our fight. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's infected, you stupid woman!" He turns his attention to Kakarot. "Did you know about this?"

You snicker. "Oh ya, Vegeta. I get hurt, and the first person I run to tell is Kakarot." Vegeta's fists clench at your sarcastic remark, turning his fit of rage back at you.

"You know, in certain situations, you're more prone to infections. And a planet like Namek checks all of the boxes! You know you need to be more careful. Damn our mother and her faulty genetics!" Sadly that's a trait you had inherited from your mother. On most planets, you'd be fine, and injuring yourself would be no big deal. But Namek has specific conditions that result in you being more vulnerable.

"Raditz, pick her up." Raditz picks you up, giving you a piggyback ride. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself better balance. Vegeta glances up at you. He looks even madder than usual. "With the condition, you're in, you will not be fighting. You will stay away from Jeice, and you won't even enter the same proximity as Ginyu. Do you understand me?"

"But--"

"No!" His voice booms, gaining the attention of every creature for miles. "I'm not kidding around. Do you understand me?"

You bite your lip, tilting your head downwards, avoiding your brother's gaze like the plague. "Yes, Vegeta." Vegeta returns to the front of the group, his mood sourer than ever.

As Raditz begins to walk, he starts talking to you again. "Are you mad at me?" You don't verbally respond. Instead, you claw into his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. "Fuck. I'll take that as a yes."

"You're a tattletale."

Raditz chuckles. "No wonder why Vegeta babies you. You'll thank me for this later, you stubborn woman. And I've kept your secrets before, handfuls of them, actually. Like what happened on planet Telia----" Raditz realized the grave mistake he had just made, mentioning that incident in the presence of the very being you worked so hard to hide it from.

You slap the older Saiyan upside the head as Vegeta turns backward, a scowl plastered on his face. "What happened on plant Telia?" It was a rhetorical question, mocking both you and Raditz. "Oh, the three of us will be discussing this in length later. Because it sounds to me like you both lied to me on that initial report." You and Raditz gulp, you've heard that tone from your brother millions of times now, and it has never once become any less terrifying.

"Oh, lighten up, Geta." You groan. "That was like, what? Around thirteen years ago?"

"The amount of time that has passed matters very little to me. As I said before, this is a discussion for later."

A few more hours have passed, which honestly feels like days at this point. And considering Namek's strange day cycle, it very well could've been. "How much farther?" Your question was clearly directed at Vegeta. And at this point, you're not even sure he has any idea where you're headed either.

"I don't know why you're the one complaining." Raditz huffs. "You're not the one doing all of the walking! And if you ask him that one more time, I'm going to drop you." Ok so maybe, that wasn't the first time you've asked that question today. Or the second, or third, you're very bored.

"Man Raditz." You roll your eyes, which are barely open at this point. "You sure complain--- a lot."

"You were just complaining." The long-haired Saiyan grumbles.

"No, I simply asked Vegeta a question. There's a difference Raditz. I know it's hard for your feeble mind to understand." When you're sick, you tend to act, oh what's the word? Bitcher than normal. And that's saying a lot.

Raditz clenches his jaw. "Vegeta. I need a break from your sister."

"That's how I felt ninety percent of the time I was stuck in a room with you, Nappa, and Cado. And you didn't see me running to wine to Frieza about it."

Before Raditz can retort, your brother interjects. "That's enough! From both of you!"

Krillin, Gohan, and Goku have identical bewildered expressions on their faces. Krillin turns to Vegeta, lowering his voice to a whisper. He doesn't want to be the next victim of your wrath. "Do they always fight like this?" The human finds this perplexing. Back on Earth, the pair seemed inseparable. They appeared to be the Saiyan equivalent of what on Earth would be considered best friends.

Vegeta lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, but typically it's more playful in nature. When my sister is sick, she becomes even brattier than usual."

Vegeta's warning to both of you seems to have fallen on dead ears. Because your quarrel has not ceased, in fact, it has only elevated. "I will drop you, you royal brat!"

"I dare you to you second-class runt. I could still kick your ass even in my delirious state. I wouldn't even have to try very hard."

"I'm considering----"

Before Raditz can even get three words out, your bickering is once again interrupted, and not by the person you may think. "Enough!" Gohan shouts. You honestly forgot the others were here for a moment."If you two keep fighting like this, you're going to get all of us killed!" You and Raditz stare at the boy in shock. It's been a long time since the two of you have been yelled at by a child. The last time being when you were children yourselves. Vegeta hasn't changed much since childhood. He's been bossing you around and shouting at you since you were children, but I'm sure that's not very surprising.

"Ya, and I can take Y/N---- if you need a break." Goku rubs the back of his neck, chuckling sheepishly. "Not that I want to hold Y/N or anything."

"No." You rapidly shake your head. "Raditz, I'm sorry. I'll be good now--- I promise."

A wicked grin spreads across Raditz's lips right before he grabs your hands with his larger ones. He loosens your grip around his neck, moving your body with ease, scooping you up into his arms. Every step Raditz takes toward Goku seems even more antagonizing slower than the last. Until he's standing directly in front of his younger brother. He elevates his arms slightly, dropping you right in front of an unsuspecting Goku.

Lucky for you, Goku has sharp reflexes. That allows the Saiyan to catch you easily. Raditz look's his brother dead in the eyes, his typical arrogant grin still on his lips. "She's your problem now, Kakarot." Raditz gazes downward to look at you. "Stop pouting. Maybe next time, you'll be nicer to good old Raditz."

A low growl echoes in the back of your throat as you glare daggers at the Saiyan standing before you. "Ya, or maybe next time, I'll rip out your tail and strangle you with it!" The only thing that's stopping you from lunging at Raditz is Goku's firm grip holding you in place.

Rather than arguing that the entire group has become accustomed to, the whole area has become dead silent. You're no longer pouting. Instead, you are glaring at the man who continues to carry you bridal style. You've never liked being held like this. It makes you feel weak like you have no control over your own body.

What makes you even more irritated, Is how Goku reacts to your death stare. He just grins at you. Does he just never get angry? What kind of Saiyan is he? It fills you with so much anger that someone as dopey as Kakarot has Saiyan blood flowing through his veins.

You clench your fists. You just wanna punch Kakarot so badly. He just has such a punchable face. If you could take away his cheery personality, he'd actually be quite attractive. Wait--- what the hell are you thinking? Kakarot is stupid and way too friendly for you to ever think of him in that way.

You move your fist up, finally giving in to your urges, attempting to punch the man holding you. Probably not your wisest moment, but your brain isn't functioning normally right now. Goku catches your hand with ease. His reflexes are unreal, or maybe this fever has you more sluggish than you believed. You'd prefer to think that it's the second option. He chuckles to himself. He's still not upset. What the hell is wrong with him? "Come on, Y/N. You gotta be quicker than that." He's challenging you. How Saiyan like of him. You seem to always be able to find specks of Saiyan nature in the cheerful man. And those are the aspects you actually like about him.

Your eyes begin to once again feel heavy as your eyes droop shut, just before you fall asleep in the arms of your enemy.

Twenty-Something Years Ago:

You're sitting on your bed, sitting crisscrossed, a book laying open on your lap. Since your father is currently off-planet, you can read all you want. You're enamored with your newest book. It's all about a topic referred to as diplomacy. It's fascinating and has many concepts that are entirely foreign to you, yet at the same time, some of these ideas are also familiar.

As you read, your door slams open, but you pay the interruption almost no attention, not even bothering to look up from your book. Honestly, the unwelcome intrusion has you more angered than anything else. "God, Vegeta." You roll your eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Something's not right. When Vegeta usually bursts into your room, he's automatically shouting at you.

Out of pure curiosity, you look up from your book. However, standing at your door, you don't find Vegeta. A boy with a very similar appearance but with a much smaller stature stands in your door frame. He's out of breath, desperately huffing for air. "Tarble?" You furrow your brows at your brother, launching off your bed to get closer to him. "What's wrong?" You have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your twin has never behaved in such a manner before.

"Captain--- Captain Ginyu is here." Tarble is shaking, his eyes watering slightly.

You scowl ever so slightly. "But Ginyu's not scheduled to be on planet Vegeta any time soon."

"It's--- It's a surprise visit. What do we do, Y/N?"

You contemplate for a moment before your features fill with alarm. "Tarble? Where's Vegeta?"

His lip quivers as he looks down at the floor. "He's with Captain Ginyu."

"Damn it." You mutter under your breath. Diplomacy is a skill you need right now. And Vegeta doesn't have a single quality that a diplomat possesses. Your elder brother is more likely to unnecessarily provoke the Captain, putting your entire race in hot water with the Frieza Force.

You rush over to your bedside table, rummaging through the drawer. Once you have your scouter in your hand, you run back over to your brother. "Stay in here, and use this to channel our father. Let him know what's going on." You push past your twin, about to leave, before Tarble's voice calls out to you.

"Wait, Y/N!" You turn back to look at him. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go stop our older brother from doing something stupid. Everything will be fine, I promise. Just calm down and do as I said." And with that, you take off, praying that Vegeta hasn't already done something rash.

As you sprint down the halls of the palace, you run face-first into the torso of a large body. "Princess?"

You look up at the bald Saiyan, the one who's supposed to be at your brother's side at all times. Since the future king of planet Vegeta needs to be protected. "Nappa, Where is my brother?"

The imbecile scratches the back of his neck, contemplating much longer for your liking. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen the runt in quite some time. You should probably ask Vegeta."

You scowl at the Saiyan. "Not Tarble, you fool! I'm asking you where Vegeta is!"

"Oh, Why didn't you just say so?" It's taking every ounce of restraint you have in your body to not viciously attack Nappa. "He's just outside of the palace."

You run through Nappa, intentionally knocking the large Saiayn onto the floor. His stupidity lost you precious time. It was quite an amusing sight, though. A mere child, being able to take down one of your father's best warriors.

You arrive outside of the palace, your eyes landing on your target. This is the first time you've ever seen Captain Ginyu. Sure, you've heard stories of the purple man. And much like your people, Ginyu is just as bloodthirsty and just as ruthless. Much to your surprise, the Captain doesn't have an army behind him. This was just before the Ginyu Force had formed. All Ginyu was at this point in time was a captain of one of Frieza's many armies.

You walk over to them, now standing at your brother's side. "Captain Ginyu." You speak with your hands, an exaggerated smile appearing on your lips. "To what do we owe the honor?"

The man looks down at you, clearly analyzing you with his scouter. "Well, if this isn't a surprise. I think this is the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N." Ginyu extends his large hand out to you, causing Vegeta to feel a great deal of alarm. Your brother's body has gone tense with an apprehensive look on his face. But when your older brother looks over to you, there isn't even a glint of fear in your eyes. You're calm, almost as if one of Lord Frieza's deadliest warriors was not standing before you. You accept the Captain's hand, presenting him with a short but polite handshake. "Your father doesn't like showing you off much, does he?"

You chuckle softly. "My father likes to hold his cards close to his chest. I'm sure a man like yourself is quite similar." Sucking up to Ginyu is not your favorite pastime, but it needs to be done. And every Saiyan on this planet knows your big brother is far too prideful to do it himself.

Ginyu looks between you and Vegeta carefully. For someone so highly regarded by Frieza, he sure isn't subtle. He's trying to read your facial expressions. Unfortunately for him, your father has raised you both much better than that. A poker face to you feels more natural than a genuine expression. "Speaking of your father, where is he right now?"

"He's of---"

You quickly cut Vegeta off. "He's in a meeting. That's why our father sent me out. He wanted you to know he sends his regards, but his hands are tied at the moment. He will be here at soon as possible. I hope my brother and I can suffice your needs in the meantime."

Captain Ginyu eyes you skeptically, tilting his head at you ever so slightly. "That sounds serious. I hope it's nothing too pressing."

"Of course not. It's nothing my father can't handle."

You're about to continue your schmoozing, but you're stopped by Vegeta aggressively yanking on your arm. "We need to talk-- in private."

You grimace at your brother's words. He just always has to make everything that much more difficult for you. You turn back to Ginyu, offering the man a cheerful smile. "Will you excuse us for a moment? We'll be right back."

Vegeta drags you around a corner, concealing you both from Ginyu's prying eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" He huffs at you in a whisper. "I had everything under control."

You snicker, crossing your arms. "You were just about to tell Ginyu that our father was off-planet. It sounds to me like I got here just in time to prevent you from making a grave mistake."

"I don't see why that matters."

"And that's the issue, Vegeta. Now we don't have time for this. Let's go." You turn back around, walking back over to Ginyu, Vegeta trailing not far behind. "I'd like to apologize for my brother's rudeness, Captain Ginyu." You shake your head but with a slight smirk across your lips. "All Saiyan men are the same, and my brother is no exception. They're incredibly thickheaded and quite savage. I'm convinced they don't even realize what brutes they are." You watch your brother ball his hands up into fists from beside you. It fills you with an immense feeling of joy knowing you're getting under Vegeta's skin for once. You turn back to Ginyu, plastering that disingenuous grin on your face. "Now, how about we give you a tour of our wonderful planet?"

You and Vegeta have shown Ginyu around almost the entirety of your planet, and you must admit you're beginning to grow worried. Luckily you've managed to hold off any more questions about your father's whereabouts by charming him with various facts about planet Vegeta. But to be honest, you're not sure how much longer you can hold up this charade for. You've exhausted pretty much every idea that you've been able to come up with.

"Captain Ginyu!" Your father's brash voice invades your ears as you turn around to finally see the man you've been anxiously waiting for. You've never seen your father walk in such an urgent manner, and it's pretty funny watching your twin struggling to keep up with your father's pace.

Your father places himself between you and Vegeta, ruffling your hair affectionately. You look up at him. "How'd your meeting go?"

Your father meets your gaze, catching onto your deception almost immediately. "It went very well. Thank you both for keeping Captain Ginyu company in my absence, but I think I can handle it from here." He directs his attention back onto Captain Ginyu. "Now, how about we discuss you're abrupt arrival somewhere more private."

The two men exit your field of view, leaving the three of you alone. Tarble, in his typical fashion, glues himself to your side. "What the hell was that?" Vegeta spits out with venom. "Where was your pride? You were basically groveling at his feet."

You furrow your brows at him. "I was doing what needed to be done. And if you think our father isn't currently doing the same thing, you're a bigger fool than I thought."

"I know our father is being more agreeable with him, but not at the cost of his pride."

"It's always about pride with you." You step closer to Vegeta, closing the distance between you. "Your pride today would have cost the loss of countless lives today, Vegeta."

"Then so be it. If there are Saiayn's that inadequate on our planet, we should probably just exterminate them now. It'll save us the hassle later on."

You snicker, shaking your head at Vegeta. "Some King you'll be." You turn to your twin. "Let's go, Tarble. I have no desire to be near our foolish brother right now."

The conversation between Captain Ginyu and your father was brief. It was a very anticlimactic ending to the naked eye. The briefness of this encounter only set off more alarm bells in King Vegeta's head. It was clear to the man that Ginyu's excuse for being on his planet was bullshit. He's just not quite sure what the captain's intentions were, but he sure as hell is going to find out.

As soon as Ginyu left planet Vegeta, he promptly set course for his next destination. He's headed straight to Lord Frieza to report his findings, and he's eager to do so.

Ginyu arrives on the planet in record time, heading straight for the throne room. Ginyu kneels before Frieza, waiting for his boss to speak. "Captain Ginyu. You're sure back early. I trust you were able to gather enough information on the young prince."

Captain Ginyu nods enthusiastically. "Of course, Lord Frieza. The Price was exactly the same as the previous data we collected on him. He's powerful and quite intelligent for a Saiyan. Though, he did inherit that nasty temper from his father."

Frieza sighs. "How disappointing."

"But I did discover something that you may find interesting, Lord Frieza."

Frieza tilts his head at the man. He can't help but feel intrigued. "Go on." It's not that easy for him to find an advantage over those monkeys, so he'll take any information Ginyu can give him, no matter how minuscule.

"Y/N--- King Vegeta's daughter piqued my interest greatly. She's not even close to as strong as her brother, but she's remarkably clever. She's very good with words, she knows how to manipulate people. I'd say she might even be better than King Vegeta himself."

"Now, that is fascinating. Good work, Ginyu. I'll look into the Princess's abilities more in-depth later. You're excused."

This is just something I felt the need to clarify: So in this chapter's flashback, Vegeta is around three, and Y/N and Tarble are about two. In my head, I picture children on planet Vegeta behaving like miniature adults. My idea is once they leave their chambers (the tanks they are raised in to get their basic Saiyan instincts under control), their minds are fully grown, but their physical growth is quite delayed. That's why they curse and stuff. I have a minuscule window of time to squash in all of my plot ideas. So this was the best way to do so.

#goku #goku x reader #saiyan reader #vegeta #vegeta's sister #DBZ Fanfiction #dbz x reader #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball z #the princess of all saiyans

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 11: The Wedding & The Confession

Summary/Author’s Note: You and Max made it to the alter. Everything is about to go perfectly according to plan--until a change of heart and impromptu confession calls the whole thing off.

We are so close guys. It's gonna hurt before it gets better.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 4.3k Rating/Warnings: R - language, angst, confessions, feelings, cliffhanger, did I mention angst? And the Grinch’s small heart...grew three sizes that day.

[Previous Chapter] [Masterlist]

Sometime in the middle of the night it had started snowing. Big, fluffy flakes slowly fell and twinkled in the early morning sunrise, making it a perfect day for an Alaskan wedding. You felt more like a hostage than a bride, however, as your family all but demanded you stayed in your room to maintain the element of surprise. They brought you breakfast, your dress, makeup bag, but as you sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed you wished they would bring you Max.

He had almost said something the night before. Hadn’t he? It seemed every time he wanted to tell you something important, he got interrupted, or was too nervous to get the words out. Nervous? Max Phillips? No. There was no way. You were projecting your own complicated feelings onto Max in a desperate hope that he felt the same way about you that you did about him. But how did you feel about him? At this point, you weren’t even sure.

Did you love him? No. Maybe? You definitely didn’t want him out of your life or back to the way things were. Things would never be the way they used to be. He was no longer the cold and unfeeling bastard that sat behind his desk and made your life hell. Perhaps when you both got back to New York he would revert back to his old ways. The clock would strike midnight and he would become the metaphorical fanged pumpkin, changing back into a bespoke-suit jackass. No way. You couldn’t see that either.

You smoothed your hands down your dress and traced a finger along the beaded embroidery of the bodice. Max would love it. His large fingers tracing over the lace as the two of you danced--you shook your head, trying to shove down such silly images. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t a real marriage. And you were not the blushing bride or doting husband. This. Was. Pretend.

Despite the temperature outside, you had chosen a dress that accentuated your tits. You’d bear the cold just to see the look on his face when you showed up to a winter wedding with bare shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The thought made you laugh quietly to yourself, because no matter what had happened this week, Max was still Max. You were still you. And the two of you could figure this out and argue your way through it together. That’s how you did everything else.

A knock at your door brought your attention to it as you stood up and gathered your skirts. “Yeah?”

“It’s me.”

You felt yourself stop breathing as Max’s voice came from the other side of the door and you hurried to it. When you tried to pull the handle, it stopped, only allowing the door open a few inches. You pulled again and it stayed firm. Max was keeping his hand on the door handle.

“Your grandma would kill me if she knew I saw you before the wedding,” he chuckled but it was humorless.

“Max, come on--” you tried to argue.

“Listen, I needed to tell you something before the wedding.” His voice was stern and the way he kept a handle on what you assumed to be desperation, made you stop talking. “I haven’t seen you all morning and it’s been driving me crazy.”

“Me too,” you agreed quietly as you put your hand on the door where you imagined him to be and leaned your body against it. “Is this about last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were going to tell me something. Before my grandma came in,” you bit your lip and swear he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.

Max paused for a minute and you wished you could have seen his face. "No. It's--it's something else."

“Are you okay?” you worried.

“I’m fine.” The door stayed firmly in place but he moved his fingers around the edge and you touched them gently. You heard him sigh softly and he moved his hand just enough to envelop your fingers with his. "Evan was right."

"Evan?"

"Don't make me say it again," he said flatly. "You should have been promoted a long time ago."

You laughed and shook your head. "Yeah, I know that Max--"

"But I denied all of the promotion offers on purpose." He said quickly and you felt like the other shoe had just dropped on your face. "I knew giving you what you deserved meant losing you as an assistant."

"You didn’t promote me so you could keep me as your secretary?” you asked, your voice going a little shrill towards the end as you thought off all you had done for him over the last five years. “You selfish, son of a--"

"I know. I know." He cut you off and you yanked on the door but he held it shut with ease. "But that doesn't matter now, because when you get back to New York, they're going to offer you a job with four years of back pay and I want you to take it."

"What job?" you snapped.

"Irrelevant."

"Max--"

"Tell me you'll take it. You deserve it and I need to know you'll tell them 'yes'."

"Max--"

"Tell me."

"Yes. Fine. Okay. I'll take the job." You knew your tone was overly exasperated but the sigh of relief he let out was enough to make your chest ache.

"See you at the altar, sweetheart." He said quietly and you bit your lip. "Don't stand me up." His teasing tone was back in his voice and you just needed to touch him. Slap him. Hug him. You hadn’t decided which--maybe both. But you needed to make sure he really was okay and this wasn't just a facade to hide whatever he wasn't telling you.

He let go of the door and you took a breath before pulling it open as fast as you could and stepping out into the hallway. But he was already gone.

“All good to go?” you mother said, rubbing your arms for reassurance and a bit of warmth.

“I kind of want to throw up,” you said with a force laugh as you adjusted your grip on the small bouquet in your hands--white roses and bluebells. Subtle, elegant, winter flowers.

“You’ll be fine,” she said, giving you a quick kiss on both of your cheeks. “It wouldn’t be your wedding day if you didn’t feel like vomiting, dear.”

“And what happens if I do?” you asked with seriousness.

“Vomit?” she laughed. “Aim for the floor. And if you fall, smile and push your tits up.” That got you to laugh back and it made her smile. “The hard part is over, honey. It’s smooth sailing from here on out.”

“What if we get divorced?” you blurted out and her smile fell a bit before shaking her head.

“Honey, if I haven’t divorced your father then you and Max won’t have any trouble at all.” She licked her thumb and tucked a stray strand of hair back into place. “Don’t condemn something before it even starts. You have made it five years without staking the man, surely there is a reason you said yes when he asked you to marry him.”

Her words were rhetorical and even if they weren’t, it wasn’t like you could tell her the truth.

“But what if--”

“Stop.” She gripped your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “This is a happy thing. Don’t worry yourself with what-ifs.”

She gave you a quick once over and another hug, careful not to mess up your hair, before squeezing your hands. When she started to walk back towards the main area of the barn to give the signal that you were ready, you called out to her.

“Mom?”

“Yes?” she stopped at the door and looked back at you kindly.

“How does Max look?” you asked, not knowing what else to say.

She smiled and relaxed her shoulders a little. “Very, very handsome.”

You returned her smile and adjusted your grip on the flowers in your hands. "Thanks mom...for everything."

The music was quiet and you were thankful that everyone remained seated as you walked down the aisle that was already littered with white rose petals. You hated being the center of attention. And yet here you were, on what some would say was one of the biggest days of your life, had any of it been real. The snow fell quietly outside the windows on the pines, catching the glow of the twinkle lights that were still strung up from the party your mom had thrown. You focused on the one person that you wished you could be alone with right now. Max. If only you could make everyone disappear and the two of you could remain.

Your mother had been right, Max looked incredibly handsome. But when didn’t he?

Your grandmother had done an excellent job tailoring the dark blue suit to fit his frame. When you realized it was your grandfather’s suit, it made your chest tight. This was wrong. This was all wrong. He had forgone the tie in favor of having the first few buttons undone on his soft, white undershirt, all tied together by the white flower pinned to his chest. He smiled at you, looking as relieved as you felt to finally see you after spending the night apart, but there was something else. Something in his soft brown eyes that let you know that the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach was also in his.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he mouthed quietly as you handed your flowers off to your mom in the first row and took Max’s outstretched hand.

“Hey,” you said back in the same tone as you took his hands in front of you and looked up at him. “I didn’t stand you up.”

“No, you sure didn’t,” he sighed quietly.

The way he said that made your heart uneasy. Something was wrong. But as the local ordained minister, and more importantly, long time family friend, stood with the two of you and smiled at the crowd of seated people, you knew you couldn’t ask him here.

“Thank you everyone for coming,” the man in front of you said as he smiled and nodded to your parents. “This is exciting!”

You held Max’s hands and shifted your weight over to your other foot just wanting this to be over with already. He gripped your hands back and stepped a fraction of an inch closer to you. Maybe he expected you to faint? Fall over onto the floor? You weren’t entirely sure that you wouldn’t at this point.

“We are gathered here today to give thanks and to celebrate one of life's greatest moments,” the officiant said with another large smile. “To give recognition to the beauty, honesty, and unselfish ways of true love in front of family and friends.”

The crowd gave a soft sigh of adoration and you glanced at your mother to see her gently dabbing her eyes with a cloth handkerchief, careful not to smudge any of her makeup. Fuck. Your own eyes burned and you shut them tightly. You would not cry. You refused to cry. This wasn’t real. But that made it so much worse. Because it was real for everyone but the two of you. Real for your mom, and your dad, and your grandmother…

Max shifted uncomfortably and brought your attention back to him. His face was set in a hard grimace and if you didn’t know any better, you would have said he looked a little green around the gills. If you fainted and Max puked, that would have been the least shocking thing about this wedding.

The officiant continued. “For it is their family and friends who taught them to love. So, it is only right that family and friends are all…”

If they said that phrase one more time you were going to scream. But you wouldn’t have to. The words stopped abruptly and Max shut his eyes tightly and cursed under his breath. He let go of both of your hands and put one of them up in a stopping motion.

“Wait--”

“Yes?” the minister asked in surprise.

“Max…” you warned in a whisper.

“Can’t it wait?”

“No,” Max shook his head and rubbed his eyes with a defeated chuckle. “No, it can’t.” He gripped your fingers and kissed your knuckles for what felt like the last time.

“Don’t do this,” you pleaded as you tried to grab his hands again but he carefully avoided your reach.

He turned to the crowd of people, holding his hands out in front of him on display and grinned. The grin made you sick to your stomach. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t the real him. The Max you had seen in the last week slowly faded away and left in his place was his carefully crafted salesman persona. “Hi everyone.”

“Hi.” A few members of the crowd responded in unison and you looked at your mother who was looking at Max with a slack jaw.

“Thank you all so much for coming out,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking forward a bit on the balls of his feet. “I... have a bit of an announcement to make--a confession, actually.”

“What are you doing?” you hissed desperately, gripping the skirts of your dress as you took a step towards him. He ignored you.

“As some of you know, I’m a vampire--” a few gasps came from the older members of your family and he nodded like he had been expecting that reaction. “Yeah, yeah, I know. And I’m a vampire without proper documentation apparently, so, I was about to be deported.”

“You son of a bitch,” your dad said from the first row.

“Dad!” you scolded. Looking up, you saw Mr. Yates standing in the back with a smirk and you wanted to slap it off of his face.

“It’s alright,” Max assured you, looking over his shoulder at you gently, ignoring your father. And you see in order for that not to happen I forced her to marry me.”

“Max, stop it,” you pleaded, but he just gave you a small smile and continued.

“See, your girl here has always had this extraordinary work ethic.” Max clenched both of his fists in front of him for emphasis before turning his attention back to your parents in the front row. “Something I think she learned from you.”

“Max, please,” you tried even though you knew it was useless.

“And for five years I watched her work harder than anyone else at our company. And I knew that if I threatened to destroy her career…” he put his hands back in his pockets and shrugged. “...she would, well, she would do just about anything.”

You felt the first tear slip down your cheek at his words. He sounded so cold, so indifferent to what he was saying, if it weren’t for the slight shakiness in his tone you would have thought that he had meant none of what happened this week. But you knew differently. He was saving you. Just you. You shut your eyes tightly and wished you could press rewind, go back and make things happen differently.

“So, I blackmailed her to come up here and to lie to you.” Max looked pointedly from your mother to your grandmother. “All of you.”

“Oh, Max,” your grandma said, wringing her soft, wrinkled hands in her lap and looking away from him in hurt.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “And I thought it would be easy to watch her do it. But it wasn't. Turns out it's not easy to ruin someone's life--” he paused and looked back at you with those soft, amber colored eyes that you loved so much. “Once you find out how wonderful they are.”

You reached for him but he stepped down off of the stage and you let your arms fall back to your sides in defeat. He walked up to the first row of chairs and looked down at your mom.

“You have a beautiful family. Don't let this come between you.” He put his hand to his chest and finished in a serious tone. “This was my fault.”

“Max.” You raised your voice and he turned back to look at you. His lips trembled as he saw the silent tears slowly trailing down your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, this was a business deal,” he said, matter-of-factly. “And you held up your end, but now the deal is off. I'm sorry.”

You picked up your dress so you didn’t trip and hurried down the steps but your father stood abruptly and stepped in your way. Max made a bee-line for the back of the barn and stopped in front of Mr. Yates. Max towered over him and grit his teeth and he pointed at him, almost poking the INS agent in the chest.

“And you, meet me at the dock,” Max snarled. “You're giving me a ride to the airport.”

“You got it,” the other man said with a nod.

Max pushed open the double doors forcefully, letting the cold air into the warmth of the makeshift altar. The snow still fell quietly as you watched him walk out in it, leaving you completely alone in a room full of the people who should have known you best.

The door slammed shut behind you as you made it back to the house. Your father’s footsteps pounded the hardwood behind you as your family followed you into the living room. You gripped your dress, using the texture of the lace to ground you as your heart and mind raced in unison with what to do next.

“What were you thinking!” your dad shouted. It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation.

“I don't,” you stopped and shook your head. “I don't know.” You felt like a child again. It was a pathetic excuse and you knew it. When you agreed to marry Max for the sake of him not being deported, you knew exactly what you were doing. The consequences just hadn’t been important.

“You don’t know?” he barked and rolled his eyes. “That’s not an excuse--”

“And what’s your excuse, hmm?” you spat back at him, throwing your hands up in the air. “You were ready to throw us both to the wolves yesterday! At least Max--” you voice caught in your throat as you said his name. “At least Max tried to--”

“What are you talking about?” your mother looked between you and your father, clearly torn by being in the middle of the two of you.

“Nothing.” “Nothing.”

You both said at once and she knew you were lying by she didn’t push it. Your grandmother came up to you slowly and put her hands on your arm, making you look down at her.

“Honey, you lied to us,” she said gently and your eyes quickly welled up with tears at her forgiving nature.

“I know,” you nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. “Let me get my head on straight, okay? I'll explain everything later. I'm sorry.” You pushed the edges of your skirts together and hurried up the stairs to your bedroom.

The door clicked behind you and you felt your shoulders drop in relief. It felt good to be alone. To have the silence to clear your head. The relief was short lived however as you looked around and realized that all of Max’s things were gone. The suit he had worn was hung neatly on a hanger and left on the armoire, a hurtful reminder of just how handsome he had looked up on that altar.

“Max?” you said hopefully, hurrying to the bathroom just in case.

His shoulder bag with his premade smoothies was gone, along with his toiletries and the large suitcase that had sat on his side of the bed. The emptiness of the once cozy shared space made an involuntary sob come from your throat as you put your hands to your mouth and tried to stop it. He left. He had really left.

You looked to the bed and thought about the way he held you, kissed you, fucked you. Was he really going to throw it all away? Was Max fucking Phillips giving up what he wanted? You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you weeks ago that this was how it would play out. Or perhaps he was being a coward. Perhaps it was easier for him to uproot his entire life to another country than to face how he really felt about you? Now that, that you believed. The thought made you roll your eyes.

While looking at the bed, you noticed the brightly colored, handmade ‘baby maker’ quilt had been folded neatly at the foot of the bed. It served as a backdrop for the items that had been carefully placed on top--the wooden box with your grandfather’s cuff-links and a note.

With shaky hands, you unfolded it and started crying all over again. Fuck.

You clutched the letter and were torn between ripping it to shreds and saving it for as long as you needed to. You had to reread the last line multiple times as each time you reached the nickname you both loathed because of its vulgarity and loved because it was so Max, your tears blurred your vision too much for it to be legible. He cared about you. He had to. But he was a coward. A coward and a fool!

“Asshole!” you screeched as you threw the letter onto the bed and looked at the ring on your finger. “Fucking asshole!” The ruby in the gold setting seemed to be taunting you.

“Honey?” your mom said as she opened your door. The sound made you jump and put a hand to your chest. “I didn’t mean to--I knocked, but…”

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” you waved her away, rubbing furiously at your eyes as she walked in and quietly shut the door behind her.

“You know, people are gonna be talking about this forever,” she laughed softly, trying to make a joke, but when you didn’t smile, she stepped closer.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, I know. The scandal of the century.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, and you let out a breath filled with bitterness.

“Yeah, of course I am,” you started, crossing your arms under your breasts and looking at the letter on the bed. “No. I mean--I just feel...you know what the problem is?”

“Go on,” she nodded encouragingly as you clenched your fists at your sides.

“You see, the problem is that this man,” you pointed to the bed and grit your teeth. “This arrogant, selfish, bastard of a man...is a gigantic pain in my ass!” You pace to the window, lacing your fingers and resting your hands on your head so you can breathe. “First there's the whole leaving thing. I understand that. It's a sham wedding--it should have never happened…”

“But you do look lovely,” she offers and you nod your thanks before you stomp back over to the bed.

“But then he goes ahead and he leaves this note!” You pick up the piece of paper and shake it at her, your heart racing, your cheeks hot. You can practically feel the steam coming from your ears. “Because he doesn't have the decency, no, the humanity to do it to my face!”

“Well, he technically isn’t human, dear--”

“Five years! Five years I work for this...this terrorist--never once has he had a genuine thing to say, and then he goes ahead and he writes this crap! The audacity--”

“Honey--”

“None of that matters. None of that fucking matters. We had a deal!”

“Honey--”

“Sorry. I'm sorry. I just…” you let out a long, heavy, shuddering breath. “He just makes me a little crazy.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” She moved to stand in front of you and put your face in her gentle hands. She gave you a warm, motherly smile as she leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “So, you're just gonna let him go?”

She was right. God dammit, she was right. You were not about to let Max Fucking Phillips have the last word. You gave her a tight hug and grabbed your sneakers.

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#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips au #bloodsucking bastards #pedro character fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #with cherries on top

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stylistiquements · 3 years

Text

The Sorcerer pt. 3

Corpse Husband x gn!reader

Reincarnation AU | Summary :

The same candle lights up on Corpse’s desk every time you are reborn and turn 23. He has been looking for you during centuries but this time you might be closer than anticipated. {Playlist}

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟯 : 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚

An eagerness for a special sense of belonging brings you to a lot of unexplored roads.

☾ Words : 6159.

☾ Warnings : swearing

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George has barely spoken a word since he started diving into the golden pages of the book Dream brought home. He doesn’t even notice his presence by his side, too absorbed by the perfect calligraphy inked on the paper, curled up on the rocking chair which swings back and forth at a tireless pace.

Dream leans toward his familiar, slowly unfolding his arm so his fingers could get closer to George’s one. His long fingers are curled around the book and it feels as though the contact would be enough to make sure George is okay.

When George exhales deeply and rapidly leafs through the golden paper one last time before closing the book, Dream flinches and sits up while clearing his throat.

“You said it was supposed to help y/n but I’m afraid to ask how,” he says as he lifts his head while shaking it in confusion. “I feel like a voyeur after reading all of … this.”

“You don’t have to ask,” Dream mumbles, hoping that it would be enough for George to brush the matter away.

“I have another question that needs an honest answer.”

Dream hums. He hates the way George is looking at him, as if the wrong question was about to come out of his mouth.

“Did you get that book or did you steal it?”

Yeah, wrong fucking question.

“The book contains too much crucial information it to be given to anyone. Even I can feel that," George pushes and he’s so right Dream can’t bring himself to lie, only cover sugarcoat the truth as much as he can.

“It’s ours. I didn’t steal it, I took it back,” he mutters and George sighs exasperatedly.

“So you got us into trouble,” he concludes.

Dream’s lips part but the words get lost in George’s incriminating eyes. He reaches for his hand and grabs it, one last attempt to reassure him as much as he can.

“It’s okay,” Dream finally breathes. “I’ll make sure everything is okay, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You better because if this goes wrong a human will get involved.”

Sitting in your car in an empty parking lot, you find yourself staring at the object you just bought with a puzzled expression while taking another bite of your bagel. The clueless item, which sits so perfectly still on the passenger seat, seems to be setting a silence you’re not sure how to handle. It’s an awkwardly clear stone in a conical shape attached to a chain reflecting the rays of the sun into iridescent light that spreads above your head and turns the grayish ceiling of the car into something vivid. You take another bite of your food, the only excuse you found to break eye contact for a second, hoping that it would ease the tension that has been growing since you started feeling like the object observed you as much as you observed him. In a long exhale, you end up covering it with your jacket.

You’re not even sure why you bought the pendulum in the first place. Probably a mind busy with a sense of curiosity and the remains of eerie stories you’ve been narrating all morning that still creeped upon you, leaving you feeling a lot more mystic than usual. You just stopped to describe that cryptic looking shop and your steps were leading you inside before you could realize it, the door tinkling as you pushed it open.

The shelves were brimming with crystals and herbs and things you couldn’t identify. From potion ingredients to candles and incense, it looked like the perfect witch den and you hated that it felt so close to home even though it could never be. It was a strange feeling; a sense of belonging as illegitimate as helpless.

Maybe that’s why you wandered around as you did, sight getting filled with questions and a hint of confusion as you analyzed every display meticulously. As if learning more about their world could give you the illusion of being an active part of it. What an irony to hate something you’re so irremediably drawn to.

When you met the object, your attention stopped and you described it with a careful eye. The owner found her way to you; a young lady with faded purple hair and winged liner that made her eyes look like cat’s eyes. She spoke in a funny accent that left you wondering where it could come from. There was something about it -or her- that felt so peculiarly familiar,

“This is a fascinating pendulum, isn’t it?” The woman said, more of a statement than it was a real question. You brushed the impression away and gently smiled at her, not sure what to answer nor even what a pendulum was.

The lady opened the glass cabinet. The chain intertwined with her long fingers and the thing looked more like a jewel when held so delicately and dangling as it was. It swung from back and forth, movements perfectly calibrated. It was inquisitive, a little mesmerizing and, before you knew it, you both were standing on each side of the counter and the lady carefully covered the pendulum with tissue paper.

The way her hair fell behind her ears, the constant smile that was tattooed on her lips, the way the paper crinkled under her fingers, it all grew together to create this one and so lucid déjà vu. The presence felt so intimate, leaving an odd and indelible aftertastes in your throat.

“I’m sorry but haven’t we met before?” You dared to ask as your mind pressured you to.

“Maybe we have,” she simply answered with a soft smile, eyes still locked on the wrapped pendulum. What a weird way to answer a simple question, neither a validation nor a denial.

“I feel like I know you,” you insisted, narrowing your eyes as if you knew there was something more, something that would make everything make sense.

She didn’t say a word, only handed you the small bag she just packed while leading you toward the exit with a hand on your lower back. It wasn’t pressuring but it was firm, an obvious invitation to leave. Maybe you were just being too annoying with the matter and she wouldn’t have been the first one to think so.

“Take care of the pendulum. It’s very special,” she demanded and, just like that, she closed the door of the shop behind you and flipped the card from “open” to “closed”.

You stood puzzled on the pavement for a minute, not too sure how to feel about all of this. Everyday keeps getting weirder and weirder.

The whole experience was odd, really, and maybe that’s why the purchase feels a little wrong, a little off. Like something that was never meant to happen in the first place.

Now, you place an index and a middle finger around the chain. The pendulum dangles, untamed movements that send vibrations against your skin. Your eyes are trying to focus on the stone, to forget about the people walking down the street you still see in your peripheral vision but, as much as you wish for something magical to happen, it’s nothing but a stone that sways aimlessly in the air. You scoff, it just makes the whole thing even more ridiculous. So, you intuitively take a picture of the thing and send it to Corpse before placing it back on the passenger seat.

[Look what I bought,] you type before clicking on the send button.

[Nice pendulum, didn’t know you were interested in that kind of stuff,] Corpse responds

[Me neither but it’s pretty cool, right? I don’t know how to use it though.]

[Why would you buy a pendulum if you don’t know how to use one?]

Thank you Mr Sorcerer, good talk, you mouth with a fake smile that, realistically, looks more like a wince. He always has a way to make you feel so stupid. You don’t feel like responding, too annoyed to give him the credit of asking an interesting question. Yet, your fingers are telling another story.

[Do you wanna teach me, maybe?]

You twist the key inside the ignition. Is this conversation even of any use? It feels like rhetoric at this point; you already know he won’t answer such a question. Yet the phone lights up in your palms before you’re able to put it out of sight. A two letter response that makes you regret hoping he would answer in the first place.

[No.]

There’s this deep exhale as you rub the exasperation out of your face. Why does he always have to be so ungracious? As if bitterness was the only thing he had left. In the end, this is nothing but a reminder that it’s just your friendship with Corpse in a nutshell; shallow and endless exchanges of fuck yous and you toos and that’s just as deep as it can get. You’re stuck inside this infernal game of cat and mouse, looking for a way to approach the real Corpse without him flinching away. This really isn’t of any use. Why would you even try to crawl inside his mind in the first place?

You push the gas pedal, trying not to stare too long at the shop that gets further and further away through the rear-view because, soon enough, you’ll forget about that odd encounter, about that even odder attempt to feel like belonging in a world you could almost think you despise.

You find yourself thinking about Corpse’s harshness, about the expression he probably wears on a face you know nothing about. Can the coldness be seen on his expression every time he chooses the crudest answer? The city scrolls before your eyes and you don’t pay much attention to it. Does he always consider the options or does his mind automatically go to that place where you’re not allowed?

It feels like every response serves a purpose to draw a line you’re so tempted to cross. You sigh heavily. Leaning closer in the purpose of a touch that can never lead anywhere is one weary way to live a friendship. You’re stuck between the wish to get closer and the wish to let go, neither one of the two being a possible thing.

By the time you reach your apartment, it feels like you’re more confused than you usually are. It’s usually so easy to brush it off, to shrug and think that it’s just Corpse being Corpse. Not today, today you're trying to understand an existence that can’t be put into words.

Why can’t I let it go? It’s with that question that you spent the rest of the day answering emails and reading more gruesome stories and now lay restless on your bed. You press the cold pillow against your face as if it would’ve been enough to stifle the question that spreads in your mind like mold. Maybe, at the end of the day, it’s not that you don’t want to let Corpse go, but simply don’t know how to.

The light of the full moon is growing electric, shining so bright that you doubt even being able to sleep.

You fall asleep, eventually, and when you do, you get woken up by the irrepressible necessity to snatch what tickles your nose with an irritating vigor.

Huh?

Your vision gets clearer as you become aware of your surroundings; vastness of meadow and cottony clouds passing fast in a blue sky. Your body rolls on what feels like a picnic blanket under your touch. You sit up abruptly, meeting the eyes of the one who sits cross legged in front of you.

Dream?

Your lips part to talk but you find yourself unable to let a word escape your grip. The energy that emanates from Dream is familiar but this face is new. He never showed it. A secret he wasn’t ready to share before.

Quite the irony if you think too much about it; the man granted you a secret that probably could have ruined his life but has never been comfortable enough to show his face.

You describe his face; green eyes that show confidence, a good amount of pride and wrinkle under a rooted smile as dirty blond hair frame the whole living painting.

If it wasn’t for the feeling that agitated your heart, you would’ve believed to be in front of a complete stranger. Warmth agitated your heart. The leap of faith he took months ago reflects on the softness he never fails to perform. Warmth and relief to have the confirmation that, after all, Dream is still here.

You try to talk again but no breath dares to fall out of your mouth as relief gets caught in your knotted throat. You wish you could wrap your arms around him, you wish you could cry from worrying so much.

It’s with the same gentleness he radiates that he raises a kettle to pour steaming water in a tea cup that sits in front of you.

“Why aren’t you wearing your mask, Dream?” You say, head leaning on the side with a confusion that is starting to grow more and more intense.

“Do I really need to hide my face any longer?” He answers as he hands you a slice of fruit pie on a golden detailed plate. The wind gently ruffles his hair and you find yourself deep diving inside your own mind in search of an answer to a question that really is more rhetorical than anything.

The meadow is as endless as essentially peaceful but there’s something so bittersweet about it. Maybe it’s the silence that makes the wind’s whistle so clear and the lack of human contact even more obvious, maybe it’s Dream’s unexpected presence. In any case, there’s something about those stirring eyes that makes your mind wander near the ghost of a presentiment you’ve been willing to forget this whole time; am I dreaming?

“This place isn’t real, is it?” You ask and Dream’s eyes lower to his tea cup, only proof that he heard the question since he doesn’t acknowledge it verbally. The light gets softer as a cloud obscures the sun and you wonder; if you were to touch him right now, would you even be able to? It’s a tempting wish for a confirmation that Dream isn’t only a chimera, something that would’ve been meant to ease a bit of disorientation.

“It is real but-”

“-but we’re not really here,” you complete the answer as you nod. It’s just a dream. “How do I know that you’re real and not only the fruit of my imagination?”

“Because I know this place and you don’t,” Dream answers and it’s as obvious as deprived of any sense.

You bring a spoon of pie to your mouth, doubting that this would be enough to prove anything. The sourness of the fruits awaken your tongue and he mimics your movements. There’s something so fundamentally confusing about doing something so domestic when it feels like you’re missing the whole point of it. The quietness being more of a hindrance than an actual help. You’re willing to brush the doubts away and believe that Dream is really here.

“Is this where you’ve been all this time?” You ask. The chances of an answer are thin but you simply can’t help it. Dream shakes his head and pinches his lips together. You hold eye contact, hoping to be able to get an intelligible message in those emerald irises.

“Well, have you been safe at least?”

And now he scrunches his nose as he can never be fully honest yet never dares to lie. Maybe that’s the issue. Maybe you wish he could lie from time to time and you could persuade yourself that it’s the truth as you did with his presence inside your dream.

You’re about to continue the interrogation when he interrupts you, “I’ll answer one more question.”

You huff, as if his facial expressions were actual answers.

“You said you knew this place and I believe you didn’t choose it randomly which means you wanted to show it to me … so where are we?”

And now there’s a full wince on his face. You roll your eyes and throw your hands in the air. You just love Dream’s way of answering questions, don’t you? The annoyance is throbbing, the simplest question becomes the most complex puzzle. You look away, plucking some grass mechanically to release the tension that is growing in your fingers.

“My turn. So you tried to use a spell and bought a pendulum,” Dream says before brushing the cup against his lips. “Bold move for someone who hates magic,” and your attention gets back on him; eyes sparkling and proud grin as if he finally proved a point he tried to make a long time ago. He probably did in a way but you won’t let him hear the whole story as it’s more embarrassing than anything.

“So that’s what you wizards do, huh,” you scoff as you raise an eyebrow. “You text each other to make fun of me?”

Dream doesn’t answer, lashes fluttering slowly as to let you steep in your own question but it only pushes you to talk more, “I have to handle this on my own since you're apparently not willing to help me with my issues.”

“Y/n,” he sighs to bring you back to a reality he thinks you’re too far from. “You don’t wanna get rid of the issues.”

You raise an eyebrow to the audacity, “Why not?”

“The spell didn’t work because neither one of you is ready to let go of the other, so what do you want me to do? There’s nothing I can do if you’re not willing to let go,” Dream explains, “and it’s pretty obvious that you’re not.”

Is it? Your mind hisses. Dream’s voice rings with a confidence that is as irritating as unwelcomed but, maybe, it’s just the way you react when he gets too close to an unwarranted truth. He isn’t as wrong as you wish he was. Why can’t you just let it go?

“Oh come on now, was I ever wrong before?” He continues while the words tangle in your brain for too long. You can clearly picture the wide and oh so proud grin that adorns his lips and you mumble something under your breath that is either related to a cuss or a request for the bragging to stop.

“I don’t want to get rid of him. I just hate that our paths always end up intertwining,” you admit in a deep exhale.

“Of course they do,” Dream murmurs. The words linger before fading away. It’s so gentle that, by the time you realize the breath was a whisper, it’s already too late to ask him to repeat himself. You remain silent, eyes fixed on the steam that escapes from your tea cup as you reconsider saying out loud the words that are hitching your throat so badly.

“It’s not as if a relationship with a sorcerer would be something fruitful or anything anyway.”

Shit.

Dream chokes on his tea he almost spit. You wish you could apologize and say that you didn’t mean the harsh words that left your mouth but it’s nothing but a truth that has to be owned.

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t see a relationship by its loss and benefits.”

“You know it’s not what I meant,” you retort. “I would never be able to be with someone who is so secretive about their life. I mean, to the point where they can’t even answer a simple question like ‘where have you been’.”

“I know,” Dream mumbles, quiet and whispery voice that almost melts into the wind that brushes against the tall grass, “but some things are just better left unsaid.”

It shatters the last glimpse of patience you have left. You can already feel your eyes going wide, ready to roll to the back of your head. You’ve heard this sentence too many times for it to be acceptable.

“See? This fruitless conversation is literally my point,” you complain while throwing a hand in the air.

The silence returns. It’s more irritating than any word could be. It feels like the conversation is about to get too heavy to be endured and you know it can never go that way with Dream. The arguments are always sterile, filled with forbidden words that never work at anyone’s advantage. That’s why you exhale deeply and force yourself to move to a lighter subject, “beside, if I were to decide which sorcerer I’d want to be with, I’m pretty sure I’d choose you.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite human,” Dream sings cheerfully and you can’t repress a smile from creeping on your lips.

“No I’m not. I’m just the only human you talk to on a daily basis,” you snort, “and I would only choose you because you’re the less secretive out of the two I know- which speaks volumes about the level of ignorance I’m on.”

“But you can’t choose, can you?” He trails in a low voice and the thought echoes inside your brain for a long time. His lashes flutter slowly, matching a soft smile that seems too compassionate for the situation, almost a little filled with pity.

“No, I can’t,” you finally conclude after thinking about it for a second and there’s something about that conclusion that almost rings as a confession you’re not sure you should be making in the first place. Spoon rattles against the plates and the sun seems to be back, shining to its fullest capacity. The rest of the tasting in silence, trying to brush every matter out of your sleeves to enjoy a time you’ve been waiting for so long.

“I have to go,” Dream informs you and you raise an eyebrow.

“What, now?” You ask, confused. “We haven’t even finished our picnic.”

“I know, peaches, but I don’t have much time left in here. Call me when you wake up and I promise we’ll catch up.”

Dream gets up and walks through the grass away from you. His silhouette gets smaller and smaller and just as he’s about to make one with the horizon, he turns around, “You were the one who brought up the whole ‘being in a relationship’ thingy. I never implied that.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

[Join the Discord VC,] Dream orders.

Corpse drops the phone on the side table as he lies down, eyes wandering around the crowded room where shelves are filled with books that haven't been read in decades and items he collected from his travels. The white light of the moon mirrors onto every shiny objects. Fatigue burns his eyes and even though it feels like a poker shot, he feels ready to try and get some sleep.

[Stop playing hard to get and join the VC, there’s y/n too,] Dream pushes.

He huffs. Even though he tries his best to keep you at a reasonable distance, you still appear everywhere his eyes lay, do you? He won’t answer, he knows he won’t. His body aches for some earned rest he hasn’t been able to wrap around in a shameful amount of weeks. Corpse exhales heavily, turning left and right on his bed to find the ultimate position he doesn’t seem to find. There’s always a bother he can’t get out of his shoulders. You keep creeping upon his mind as if you had the right to.

He won’t get involved, he knows he won't, but the night rings differently and maybe Corpse is longing to share it with someone a little more than expected. His attention falls upon the plant on a shelf, a distraction from a silence that is almost tempting. It looks miserable and the issue hitches his brain. He gets up, one touch and the plant looks alive again.

In another heavy sigh that drains all the air out of his lungs, Corpse stretches his sore limbs and tense back. He drags his feet to the desk and the computer illuminates the room as much as it hurts his tired eyes. He sits, soulless, for a couple of seconds while still debating whether he should join the call or not before ultimately giving in.

“-stupid. You don’t deserve any apology, Dream,” you roar and Corpse is blown away by a high energy that violently contrasts his.

He has no idea why he joined. It feels like he shouldn’t be here -and he probably really shouldn’t-. You blind him with an enthusiasm he doesn’t know how to handle and surely would never be able to match. He remains silent as voices and wheezes chime too loudly for a disoriented mind like his.

The mouse gets dragged across the screen, he’s so ready to end it before it even had the chance to really start. There’s no point in him being here and he feels like a fool for thinking there was one at some point. Yet, Dream greets him before he is able to.

Fuck.

“What are you doing up so late, you freaks?” Corpse grunts before swallowing a breath. His voice is thundering in a place where the echo is too clear for him to ignore how intense he sounds, too intense for the light mood he felt seconds ago. He doesn’t belong here, he shouldn’t have joined that damn call.

“Why, hello emo Howl, Dream here agreed to teach me how to use a pendulum because he actually cares,” you taunt maliciously as if you didn’t care, as if he never killed a mood he shouldn’t even have bothered to kill.

And now, he realizes there’s no use pushing you away as it only makes him look like the bad guy and doesn’t actually do the requested job. Now that it’s so clear, he almost feels a little guilty, mostly stupid.

“That’s not what I said,” Dream retorts but your voice is already flooding everyone’s headphones with quotes he never stated in the first place and he eventually has to give up.

Your laugh is so candid as you and Dream bicker, so organic and contagious Corpse can’t help but pinch his lips not to smile too. But he gets it now; you just don’t know how to take no for an answer. It’s what makes you so overly annoying but maybe that’s also why he always ends up obliging to whatever request you have to make.

The conversation drifts on and off. Corpse discovers a bond he would have never expected. It’s deep and oh so pretty and it feels like whatever it is, you and Dream are made of the same thing. There comes a point where Corpse wishes he could stop feeling like the outcast and join a conversation he’s somehow scared to interrupt. How nice could it be to be so close to someone? How nice could it be having someone who is there no matter what? He forbids himself to explore the idea. He used to know and now he only has to look through the mirror to really see how nice it is. It’s an illegitimate sense of envy that pinches his heart and tastes helplessly bittersweet.

“Anyway,” you say as the chuckles fall breathless. “Corpse, did you know it was the full moon tonight?”

“Oh really?” He breathes before wincing. He’s well aware that it’s the full moon; he’s a goddamn sorcerer. One glance around him and he can see its reflection into thousands of pieces across the room.

“See?” Dream triumphs

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh heavily, throwing a side eye to your screen in which Dream and Corpse’s drawn icons are displayed. “I thought you guys would like … dance naked in circles in a forest or something.”

Dream’s confusion is loud in his tone and Corpse surprises himself to laugh at the theatrical tone you chose to deliver the words How cute. Humans are so naive, believing everything they hear and see on TV.

“So, you guys don’t do anything particular on the full moon,” you conclude, seemingly a little upset.

“I do, but that doesn’t imply … t-that,” Dream answers with a tone that blends discomfort and amusement.

Maybe it is as nice as he thought it would be; being able to share a peaceful night and a glimpse of joy with people who seem to care.

That’s why you’re so dangerous; you’re so spontaneous you make him wish he were too. It’s one thing to play with fire. It’s another to play with your own life; too risky to be worth it. Yet, everybody who has experienced l’appel du vide would recognize that thrilling sensation inside their chest. As much as Corpse wants to keep you as far away as possible, you keep reminding him that you’re the tingling sensation on the back of his shoulder.

“What about you, Corpse?” You ask.

“I-I don’t really actively practice magic anymore,” he stutters as if he wasn’t expecting to be given a voice.

“Oh, why not?”

The question echoes inside his mind. Why not? He knows there’s a good explanation but right now it feels like his mind can’t wrap itself around it. He knows there is one yet it feels as though he has forgotten. It confuses him as he parts his lips with a frown, expecting an answer to come out but the words tangle with each other and won’t leave his tongue.

“Well I gotta go,” Dream interrupts the train of his thoughts and it’s almost comforting for Corpse to know that he doesn’t have to further torture his own mind. “You two be nice to each other," he orders and you’re already whining and complaining about his sudden escape.

“What do you wanna do, Corpse, do you wanna go to bed?” You ask.

Behind the loudness and vulgarity you’re always performing, Corpse understands now that there’s a certain elegance in the way you interact with him. A delicacy that resides in the tone of your voice. As if you cared, really cared about what he has to say. How could you still think of him as a friend when he keeps treating you so poorly? He doesn’t deserve it, deprived of a sense of empathy they took away from him too long ago.

“I’m not really tired,” he lies as if you didn’t already know that fatigue was his trademark. He’s surprised you don’t point out the fact that he keeps lying for obscure reasons.

It’s not like he would complain about it. The silence the night brings along is contemplative. He wishes there would be more night like this, when time would almost stop to let him catch his breath. Somehow, he feels like it could be filled with something good, something worth it.

“What are you thinking about?” Corpse asks in an attempt to explore that peaceful quietness.

“I wonder what magic could look like,” you answer with what you deem to be an useless honesty.

The question is stupid but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, considering it with a gentle seriousness before saying,“Do you want me to show you?”

A grin grows on your lips, heart beating with anticipation, “Would you really do that?”

Corpse hums and you lift your head as requested. You stare at the ceiling where shadows move when headlights are projected on the windows. There’s a long pause -too long for your impatient mind- before multiple sparkles of light spread on your ceiling. They twinkle and crakle like fairylights and multiply in front of your amazed eyes. Soon they gather and turn the dark ceiling into a starry night.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you admire the stars that seem to be floating above your head as if they have always been here, as if they belonged to you.

“Is it working ?” Corpse asks nervously when you’re too silent for his liking.

“What do you mean ‘is it working’? This is fucking amazing, Corpse,” you choke out as you giggle as frenetically until your belly hurts. There’s no human words fitted to describe this state of perplexity and admiration. There's no such beautiful and clear sky in the city, that's why it's so special.

Corpse laughs with you. It’s nothing new but, somehow, in the quietness of the night, it vibrates differently. It doesn’t sound like the kind of forced chuckle he makes when he feels like people are expecting him to laugh but rather genuine and oh so endearing.

You thought you could never enjoy anything related to magic but now you realize that maybe it’s more likely that you never learned how to grow fond of it. When a shootingstar crosses the crafted sky, you both exclaim a "oh" before faintly chuckling. You let your back rest on the chair, imagining that Corpse is probably doing the same and looking at the same sky you’re looking at.

“It feels like you’re sitting next to me right now,” you murmur and it feels so special to be able to share a moment that seems so intimate that it makes your heart warm from a proximity you never knew could be possible.

“You’re cute,” Corpse breathes before he can realize it and once he does, it’s too late to take it back.

“No I’m not,” you grumble between your teeth.

“Sure, if you say so,” he finally shrugs in a battle he knows he can’t win.

Somehow, it feels like a turning point you can sense in a feeling nested inside your chest; a sense of novelty that makes you a little nervous as you don’t know if it’s for the best or the worst. Yet, this new beginning feels like it’s about honesty.

“Are you happy, y/n?” Corpse whispers and it’s so faint you wonder if it’s meant for you to hear.

“I am,” you still answer with a soft smile. “Are you happy?”

“I try to be,” he says after considering the question for a while. A confirmation that you wish you never had to deal with. It sends you back to every conversation that ended up in half bitten words and a concerning amount of melancholia that almost choked you even though it wasn’t yours.

It clicks. Bitterness is not the only thing Corpse has left in him. It’s a protection.

“Why are you so sad, Corpse?”

When the words linger for too long and he can no longer stare at the stars above his head, his throat gets sore, lips trembling as he bites them firmly. He feels seen in a way he thought he was safe from. It’s discomforting, unnerving and a spike that threats to burst into his heart. He takes a moment to remember that he has to breathe. He always seems to forget.

“Because when you live for so long, you live through everything,” Corpse mutters and that’s as honest as he can be.

“And everyone,” you conclude and he hums dryly.

“Can I give you a piece of advice?” You ask, knowing damn well that the amount of deep conversation has passed a long time ago and that the loan you’re deciding to take will have some sort of consequence. “If you keep hoping for the people who haunt you to come back, you’ll never be able to cherish the ones who are actually in front of you.”

The words tinkle in Corpse’s head in an odd way like a call for an awakening. He remembers that Sykkuno used to tell him the same thing; it’s time to let it go. It rises inside his lung like a sea of anguish he’s not ready for and it’s so overwhelming it’s animating him with emotions that are too violent for him to think.

“So what?” he scoffs, “are you saying that you’re the one in front of me?”

“I’m not the one who should answer that question,” you simply answer. It’s not enough, it’s not enough for him to make up his mind. Is that a yes or a no? He can’t think and the words are crumbling, too eager to get out.

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” he says with an unexpectedly strong voice that spreads shivers on your arm. “There’s no place for a human in my life.”

“Good because I don’t like sorcerers,” you thunder before ending the call abruptly.

You sit on your chair puzzled for a second. What the fuck was that?

☾ A/N : WOOOOOW I can't believe I finally finished this chapter it's surreal. I can't even begin to tell you how much I wrote and rewrote this I just COULDNT DO IT!!! Thank you for your patience it has been the wildest ride (I feel like I say that every time but hehe) Anyway thanks for reading I feel like shit is finally about to get started in here and I'm so damn excited!! As always let me know what you think and Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

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#the sorcerer #corpse husband #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse imagine #corpse fanfic #reincarnation au

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