#MAN I really want to do like a stat sheet one day for the boys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jo-harrington · 9 months

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Blurb request: The immortal snail ☠️

…anon what?

But I have an idea.

Find other Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

April 1984

Eddie’s first DND character with Hellfire Club had been a Tabaxi Rogue named Perceval Stayne—after Sir Perceval of Arthurian legend…and of course who could pass up playing a cat burglar. He’d been a freshman, eager to play with real players and not just his friends. Mickey had said Perceval was cool.

Harvey Simpson, the founder of the Hellfire Club and the DM at the time, told him that Perceval would have been great…if only his best stat wasn’t charisma, of all things.

“Dexterity,” Harvey tapped at the character sheet. “Or intelligence should be your highest.”

“My uncle says my mouth is my best feature,” Eddie explained. He wanted a cool character..but he also wanted one that felt true to him to begin with. Make a good impression and not fumble endlessly. He’d get better. “I could sell ice during a blizzard.”

Harvey had huffed and puffed but ultimately let him do what he wanted. And Perceval’s big mouth is what got the party out of a few pinches several times.

Eddie’s big mouth got them out of several pinches.

It also got him a second date with you at, coincidentally, the library so he could do some prep for the next few sessions.

“It’s a really cool game, I swear,” Eddie explained. “I’m DM this year and we’ve got this freshman Gareth who is like…he’s been trying so hard. But seeing his eyes light up…that’s just why we play, you know?”

You whispered questions and answers to each other as the two of you perused the shelves—what kind of books you liked to read, favorite book as a child, that kind of thing—and then Eddie surprised you with a study room in the depths of the library reserved just for the two of you.

“So we can have snacks without getting yelled at,” he explained.

“Just snacks?” You teased.

“And maybe kiss a little without getting caught,” he grinned mischievously and you shut the door before planting one on him with a giggle.

The date was spent mostly in silence, the study room filled only with the sounds pages turning, a pencil scribbling, snack wrappers crunching, and the occasional laughter as one of you—usually Eddie—started playing footsie.

You grabbed a few books for yourself, easy reads, simple chapter books with mystery and fantasy and intrigue to keep with Eddie’s theme.

Currently you were lost in the pages of Tuck Everlasting, you even ignored Eddie’s last attempt to get your attention. He watched you for a moment, memorized the way your eyes darted across the pages and your expression changed.

He wanted to live here forever, in this moment. And something at the very depth of his being thought that he would feel this way about every moment, every second, that he was gifted with you.

“Obviously your favorite is Jesse,” he broke the silence and your eyes darted up to meet his. You fidgeted in your seat as you watched him watch you. “Handsome, adventurous—”

“Cocky,” you smirked.

“I would say ‘confident.’” Eddie shrugged. “Tell me I’m wrong though.”

“You are wrong, actually,” you set the book down and folded your hands over it. “Miles is my favorite.”

Eddie frowned.

All of the girls in his 6th grade English class had a silly crush on Jesse. He never understood until he reread the book last summer when he was preparing for his first campaign as DM, hoping to include some secret stranger like the man in the yellow suit. Then he likened himself to Jesse. Enjoying life where he could, despite the hand he’d been dealt…or in spite of it. He was romantic…wanted Winnie to marry him one day…drink from the spring so they could be together forever.

“Jesse…he was impulsive,” you began, as if you could read his mind. “What more did he love about Winnie than the fact that he could be himself around her. Because the family’s secret was finally free. She was just a child who saw this…fantastical thing, this family and this fun older boy, and she thinks she’ll be free of this stuffy life in Tree Gap…and when trouble arose, she wanted to protect her friends.

“Jesse just wanted to repay her…there was no…real love there outside of maybe friendship. But he’s lonely too…wanted to reward himself. Maybe he could actually love Winnie one day…maybe…but he’d always have another person to be free with. Offering her immortality is for him more than it was for her. Or for love.

“Miles though…Miles was bitter, sure. Because he loved with everything he had in him. Love his wife, loved his family so deeply that he never wanted to be without them. He wanted a normal life together with them. No matter the circumstances.

“He would give anything—would rather die—than see his his wife and children hurt or unhappy,” you concluded, breathing heavily.

Eddie watched you for a second and contemplated your words. He’d never really thought of it that way before. Yes Miles was a character you could empathize with, his loss of the ones he loved…but…

“But he couldn’t die,” Eddie muttered.

“No he couldn’t.”

“So what would you pick then?” Eddie challenged. “A normal life with someone you loved, grow old, and die together…or an eternal carefree life?”

“Eddie, eternity isn’t carefree,” you deadpanned as you picked up the book and shook it at him. “Case in point.”

“Ok fine…you can live forever and do whatever you want,” he started and looked around the study room for a second to come up with some idea. “But…your eternal nemesis is a snail that will kill you if it finds you and touches you.”

“What the fuck?”

“Answer the question ma’am, the audience is waiting,” Eddie spoke into an imaginary microphone and then held it to you across the table.

“I would take the normal life, Monty,” you answered.

“Interesting,” Eddie leant back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“Really heavy second date questions here.”

“Thank you. Gotta know if I’m gonna keep you.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you replied and shook your head. “I already kissed you after you said you’d drink trash juice.”

“Ha fucking ha.”

“Alright, spotlight’s on you now,” you held the imaginary microphone to your lips now. “Edward Munson. Normal life with someone you loved, or a carefree eternity?” You held it out to him.

“You forgot about the snail Alex,” Eddie spoke into the microphone.

“Clock’s ticking,” you urged and hummed the Jeopardy theme song.

“If I really had to choose, sure a normal life with you would be my choice sweetheart.” He winked and watched you fidget again.

“But I think we’re missing one key factor here. Miles didn’t know he was immortal until his kids were grown, until his wife was old. Otherwise, I would bet he would have definitely had them drink from the spring too. Both of the brothers had the same idea.

“So if, if we’re playing by Tuck Everlasting rules here,” Eddie leaned forward and spoke into the microphone, eyes never leaving yours, never blinking. “I think I would say ‘why couldn’t we have both?’”

#To which you say “that’s cheating” and slap him #And then you make out a little #Aasb #hymns of heaven #eddie munson x reader #as above so below

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kimthenanny · 2 years

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Whose Birthday is it?

Look, I know, it's called a real pickle when you love everyone else birthday but hate your own. I never ever know what I want for my birthday, like I'm not one of those girls who know the day after their birthday what they want for the next year and is burning for someone to ask them at 12:01AM. I don't know what I want. OKAY?? If I want something I go out there and get it, I don't wait for someone to ask me what I want. It actually feels weird for other people to buy me things that I can buy myself to keep myself happy. I'm just saying, get your shit together people! That's one side of the coin, the other side is a lot less dramatic, but still very complicated. I love everyone else birthday! I want them to get everything they want for one day! I want to buy them gifts and I want to look at their reaction when they open it. Not in a malicious way, I genuinely want this for them. Are other people's lives this complicated? Do they have complex thoughts about birthday anxiety? Is it a normal thing to experience?

Another reason why my birthday sucks is because bad things happen on my birthday, and I'm a nanny! Bad things happen every day! I am a live in nanny to a baby boy almost a year old, his name is Lucas. He is the best thing that has ever happened in my life. I love him like I would my own son, like I do every time I get a new kid. On this day I was late for work I am never ever late for work! If I'm late for work then I'm late for Lucas. Great. I apologized to him, but he's a baby he doesn't know what I'm saying or probably even notice I was late. So, I get the baby ready for the day and head downstairs where the kitchen is and there's donuts! Donuts are my favorite things in the world so I didn't complain that there was 6. My boss, who's name is Daniel, remembered this morning and surprised me! This part of the birthday was okay.

The rest of my day past on without a hitch. We did our usual Monday chores today because yesterday I was way too tired to fold all those clothes and change all those sheets! I'm not even done and it's the end of Tuesday lol. I feel like I'm failing Lucas, he is 8 months old and doesn't know how to crawl. I feel like we work so hard at tummy time all day long and we're still not getting anywhere. He learned how to roll over on both sides about a month ago so that's something. I hope we can figure it out soon, because he really wants to. What do you do with an 8 month old who cannot crawl? I wonder if he was my own if I would get more out of the baby age? Right now, playtime is boring but he is so stinking cute that it's okay. Lucas took a two hour nap! I wrote a short story during her nap and that felt really good, so good that I decided to write some more before bed. After her nap the second half of our day went pretty much like the first half, except we cleaned the kitchen.

I'll ask you this right now, have you ever let go of a baby who hit their head on the floor? This evening we were working on our strong arms so he can sit up all on his own and he let go and hit his head on the floor. I would never ever mean to hurt that poor sweet baby, he truly is my very best friend. Just knowing that I caused him pain and discomfort really eats away at my heart. He is such a good baby. He's completely fine, but it still hurts me. He's probably completely forgotten about that. It makes you feel two inches tall when a baby hurts himself on your watch. I know it's a normal thing to do and he's going to slip and fall a whole lot more in his life. Poor baby boy.

Dinner tonight was amazing! We got my favorite food, tacos! They were so dang good! We got the tuna, cod, and shrimp tacos man I wish I could get another tuna one. Tuna is my favorite fish, I love a good tuna stake! we got a chocolate bundt cake at Nothing Bundt Cake in Nashville, TN and it was the best bundt cake I have ever had in my life! I need 12 of them stat! After dinner we played with Lucas for awhile and then went up to zone out or go to sleep. I chose to zone out and write about my day with the cat tussling with my computer while I type and listen to a podcast called Normal Gossip.

Do you see now why I hate my birthday? It could be anxiety that's making me feel like I need to mess up something on my birthday, like putting the bad vibes in the air already. I don't know, but whatever it is needs to leave me alone! But overall I think it was a pretty good birthday and the best part about going to sleep tonight is the fact that I get to wake up and do it all again tomorrow because I truly and deeply am blessed with all that I have and all of my hope that I'll always hold on close with.

Thanks for reading,

Kim

#reading #books & libraries #writers #long reads #birthday #child #8 months #boy #bundt cake #tacos #seafood #food #hurt #zone out

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

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Lavender Lace (Part 2)

Pairing: Tom Holland x F!Reader

Summary: When Tom calls you mean, you decide to show him what mean really looks like. (Part 2 to Lavender Lace)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (Edging, Ruined Orgasm, Dom!Reader, Sub!Tom, Oral - m and f receiving, smidge of somnophilia, smidge of exhibitionism), Cursing, Honestly, the dom! is pretty soft

Word Count: 4400

Requested by @hollandlover19

_______________________

It was a rare occasion that you and Tom both had the same day off but when such an occasion arose, the two of you made sure to take full advantage of it. And, oh boy, were you two making today a special occasion.

You’d woken up before Tom on this particular morning to find the sunlight already streaming in through the thin curtains and your beautiful boyfriend lying beside you looking as if he was sculpted from fucking marble. His brown curls were barely curls in the morning, more just a messy pile of once twisted tendrils that now just stuck up all unruly against the pillow. His eyes were still shut, his bare chest falling and rising with each heavy breath. The blankets covered most of his torso but the covers didn’t do much to hide the unintentional issue that all men had to deal with from time to time.

A smirk spread across your face as you looked down at the tent beneath the sheets and then back at your boyfriend still deep asleep when an idea occurred to you. You shifted up onto your elbow and shifted a little closer to him, before kissing his bare chest, marking each freckle with your lips as you made your way up his neck and then eventually along his jawline.

Tom shifted slightly when your finger lightly traced their way down his abs that weren’t as defined as they were when he was actively filming but you didn’t care. This man could never stop being handsome in your eyes. Your fingers reached the hem of his boxers, already straining with the pressure of his morning wood. With featherlight touches, you traced the length of his erection with your finger tips, over the head, and then back down along the underside of his shaft.

The quietest little moan fell from his lips and you looked back up at him, biting your lip and determined to hear more of that sweet sound. You brought your hand back up to your mouth and spit into your palm before snaking it back down under the covers and beneath the elastic of the waistband. Your hand moved smoothly along his length and while you did so, your lips returned to his body. Tom's chest shook when his breathing hitched, clearly getting flustered, even in his sleep.

You increased the pressure ever so slightly on his length, twisting your wrist around the head, when you kiss his jaw line. Another small breathy moan tumbles from his perfect lips and press yours against his gently, swallowing the sound. When you pulled away, kissing back down his neck, you heard a hoarse chuckle, “G’morning, love.”

You smiled against his smooth neck, breathing him in. “Good morning, Tommy.”

“Starting the day off well, I see?” He asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes but finding it difficult to keep them open through the pleasure. He sighs out in bliss when you focus more attention on the head.

A chuckle leaves your lips when you go to kiss him yet again. “Thought you could use some TLC on your day off.” You sped up your pace and you could tell by the groans he was making that he was getting close already, “Is this okay?”

“Oh, it’s more than okay, darling.” He grunted out with a smile, “‘M already so close.”

“Yeah? Tell me when…” You cooed into his ear, biting the soft flesh.

The pace you had set on his length was not fast but the pressure was enough to make him fall apart quickly. Partners were like bombs, you realized, and much of a relationship was learning what made them tick and what made them blow. Tom had a few triggers for each that you had every intention of taking full advantage of today, should he be willing to play along with your little game.

He twitched in your hand and his fingers knotted themselves into the pillow beside his head. “Shit… I’m gonna-”

Then your hand was gone. Tom groaned, his hips bucking up into sheets, chasing your touch. “Fucking hell!” He whined, head falling back harshly into the pillow, “You’re not usually this mean first thing in the morning.”

A single testing eyebrow raised when you leaned back, “‘Mean?’ Tread lightly, love. I had an idea for today, if you’re up for it, but I could always make it more torturous if you’re going to keep that tone.”

The dominance in your voice was clear to Tom and gosh was it turning him on. “Heard we had a day off together and already had something planned?” He teased you, moving to sit up a little higher on the pillows. You crawled over his body until you were straddling his hips, his hard cock rubbing against your thin flannel pajama bottoms. He hissed when your hips rolled teasingly, one of his hands gripping your hip to keep you from moving - he was still trying to calm down - and the other bending to cradle his own head. You put your hands on the bed on either side of his body, trapping him in a trap he had no yearning to escape. “What did you have in mind, love?”

You chewed your lip and looked up at him through long lashes, giving him a sultry dark look, “Ohhh, well I was thinking trying to beat your record and edge you fifteen times but since you were calling me names earlier, I think I’ll make it twenty.”

“What?! I barely made it to ten last time!” Tom’s eyes were wide with panic but he quickly remembered his place when you gave him a sharp look.

“What was that? Twenty-five for talking back?” You asked, almost in the tone a teacher would chide a student with.

Tom’s whole body tensed up and he moved to embrace you in a panicked show of affection to remedy his misstep, “No! I’m sorry! Twenty is fine. I’ll make it to twenty!”

You allowed him to pull your body down towards his just enough so your chest rested against his but you still looked up so you were eye to eye with the man, “That’s what I thought. Now don’t worry, I’m not totally… What did you call me? Mean? I won’t make you do all twenty at once. I’ll stretch them throughout the day. But a few rules: One, no touching yourself unless I say you can. Two, you must touch yourself when I tell you to. Three, no cumming before I say you can. Failure to follow these rules will result in punishment. Understand?”

“Yes.” His voice was nearly a whimper. The way you made this boy fall apart should have made him embarrassed but he would trade all his pride if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. The man was utterly in love with you and you were incandescently in love with him as well.

You gave him a satisfied smile, “Good. That’s one down.” You rolled out of bed and stretched as if you hadn’t just promised him a day of sexual torture, “What do you want for breakfast? I’m starving.”

Tom knew from the start he was going to have a hard time with this but he was hoping spreading out the twenty edges over the day would make it bearable. How wrong he was. You either allowed him to touch himself or touched him yourself about every half hour, just to make sure he stayed achingly hard, just the way you wanted him. It was in those gaps, though, that he’d hoped to find solace, only for you to “accidentally” bump into his member with your perfect ass, which was barely concealed in the short lounge shorts you’d decided to hang around the house in today.

The first few times were easy. Obviously, the first edge was when you had woken him up with your hand pumping him almost to completion. The second was when you let him jerk himself off in the shower just after breakfast while you ran your hands over every inch of his body. You gave him a handjob when the pair of you were fresh out of the shower before he even had a chance to put his joggers on. The next seven were a combination of you touching him and you allowing him to touch himself over the next few hours.

On the eleventh, you had decided to up the ante and have a little more fun with it. He sat on the couch, playing Call of Duty with Harry, Sam, and Haz all on the same server, speaking to him through his headset. Video games were Tom’s desperate attempt at distracting himself from the painful ache in his trousers but you weren’t going to let him get off that easy (no pun intended).

When you came into the living room, standing just to the side of the television so he could still see the game but also see you, his eyes flicked back and forth between you and the screen, trying to ensure you knew he was acknowledging you while also not losing his lead on his brothers. His face fell when you didn’t say anything, only had that look in your eye again. With pleading eyes, he gestured to the controller in his hand.

“Keep playing. Don’t mind me.” You whispered, waving towards the controller in his head nonchalantly. Tom gave you a skeptical look, knowing you were up to something but he resumed the game as you said he could.

Staying in your same spot, just beside the television, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up and over your head, revealing your bare breasts. Tom’s mouth fell open, having a hard time concentrating on the shouts and gunfire coming from the game when a literal goddess was stripping for him in his living room. “Keep playing. Don’t want to leave your brothers hanging.” You urged, nodding towards the TV.

Hesitantly, Tom returned to the game, not nearly as invested in the stats on the screen as he was a few moments ago. He watched out of the corner of his eye as your shorts and panties slid down your legs in one motion, leaving you completely bare before him. You padded towards him, putting your knees on the couch to either side of his hips, straddling him.

Tom leaned back and gave you a look of panic when you reached down to gently pull his hard length from his joggers. His hands pulled back, the game forgotten but you released him, his hard length practically sticking straight up against his stomach. You reached for his hands and laced them behind your back, leaning forward so you were mostly positioned against his chest. Tom could still see the screen over your shoulder, both hands resting on the controller but he was no longer aggressively slamming the buttons.

When your hands returned to guide his cock to your soaked entrance, his eyes blew wide and he pointed to the headset with pleading eyes. Your mouth fell open as you sank down on his length, a choked sound falling from Tom’s lips at the sudden warmth. This was the first time he’d been inside you all day and he was already so sensitive that it drove him crazy.

After you had a moment to compose yourself, you pulled aside one of the ear pads and allowed your lips to brush his ear, “Better not let them hear you, Tommy. Imagine what they’d say if they found out you liked this… being brought to the brink of tears, being absolutely ruined.”

Tom’s mouth fell open when you began to move agonizingly slow up and down on him, your walls squeezing around his length every time you moved up. Tom was usually a fairly vocal guy in bed, almost always making a sound, whether it be begging you, praising you, telling you how much he loved you, or just little moans and groans. This was torture for him and you knew it.

You swivelled your hips, having to bite back your own moan when you managed to hit that spot deep inside you that made you see stars. Having finally found that spot within yourself, you made sure to keep repeating that same motion until your toes were curling. Your breasts rubbed deliciously against Tom’s chest and you found your own high approaching rapidly.

You pulled one of Tom’s ear pads aside again and breathed out, “I’m gonna cum, Tommy.” It wasn’t a whine of desperation, it was a declaration of power. A statement of what you were able to do and he wasn’t.

The muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed hard, finding himself close as well. He had been so hard this entire time, he was surprised he had managed to go this long without nearing that edge but it was catching up to him rapidly. After only a few more bounces on him, you unravelled around him, clutching onto his shoulders tightly.

You pulsed around him, riding out your high with a silent scream, hating that you were also punishing yourself with having to stay silent to keep the boys from knowing what you were doing as well. Tom let out a strangled groan when he felt himself about to fall over that edge. He let go of the controller and tapped your ass repeatedly, trying to pry you off of him so he wouldn’t cum without your permission. Broken sounds fell from his lips so quiet you could barely hear it but you raised your brow, clamping your hand over his mouth so he would stay quiet. Finally, you slowed to a stop, telling by the intensity with which he tried to pull you off of his length that was going to fall over that edge if you continued.

“‘Ey, Tom? You good mate?” You could hear Haz’s voice ask with a chuckle through the headset, followed by a few exclamations of frustration as you assumed he was shot in the game.

Slowly, you removed your hand from Tom’s mouth and allowed him to answer, “Yeah, erm, yeah. I’m good.” His first attempt at speaking had come out almost more as the squeak of a thirteen year old boy but he cleared his throat and was able to sound more convincing.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you...”

“F-fourteen! I said fourteen.” Tom gritted out, body covered in sweat as his back arched off the bed.

You sat off to one side of him but leaned over his legs, your free hand running up and down his thighs that were tensing beneath your touch. “Only six more, Tommy. You’re doing so good.”

He shook his head, “I’m not gonna make it to twenty.” He was nearly in tears, cock moving on its own free will at this point, flexing against his abs.

You cooed, “Ohhh but you’re gonna have to.” Tom’s biceps flexed as he pulled against the handcuffs you had him restrained to the headboard with. “I’ll make them quick,” You reassured with a smile, a smile that Tom found anything but reassuring.

You leaned down and took him into your mouth, humming with satisfaction at the cry he let out, only making him struggle more. You hollowed your cheeks and swirled your tongue around his head, tasting the sweet yet salty precum that had beaded up there.

“Ah, shit-” Tom struggled, biting into the back of the fleshy bit of his hand to try and ground himself. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He had warned you this morning that twenty was most likely an impossible goal but you just wouldn’t listen. Tom found himself desperately on the edge within less than a minute of you touching him. Maybe if he just didn’t say anything, you would keep going until he came. He could deal with whatever punishment you had in store but he just needed a release.

You watched from beneath hooded lashes at the way his eyes were screwed shut and felt the way his hips bucked up involuntarily, pushing him down your throat. His cock twitched in your mouth, the way it always did just before he-

“You naughty thing! You were going to cum weren’t you?” You sat up off of him as soon as you noticed that tell-tale sign of his.

Tom let out a literal sob and you noticed the tears falling from the corners of his eyes. “‘M sorry! I just need to cum so bad! Please!”

The tears that fell down his face did actually make you feel a little guilty but you had to remind yourself that if it really was too much for him, he knew the safe word that would make the whole act go away. Knowing yourself, if he tapped out because it got to be too much, you’d let him cum right now. Both of you knew this was really just for the fun of exploring yourselves and each other and the last thing either of you wanted was for either one of you to not be enjoying what was going on. And yet, Tom still had yet to actually say the safe word. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be a little soft on him though.

You leaned up and kissed his lips softly, fingers brushing through his messy locks, “Oh, darling, I know. There’s only five more.” Tom groaned as if five were a hundred. Suddenly, your fingers knotted in his hair just tight enough to get his attention and, just like that, your soft tone was gone and your dangerous glare was back, “But if you ever try to pull one over me like that again, I’ll make sure you won’t cum for much, much longer than I did today.”

Tom didn’t need to respond. It was written all over his face that the message had been received loud and clear. You crawled your way back down his body and began pumping his shaft again, swiping your thumb over his head to spread the liquid there along his length. You shifted yet again, moving to the position where you could roll his balls in your other hand.

“You better tell me this time.” You threatened, already seeing the signs. Besides, Tom had been so close for so long, he was at the point where any touch practically brought him to the edge.

“I’m gonna cum!”

You kept working him until his legs were squirming beneath you, only stopping when you saw he was within a second from falling over the edge. “Sixteen. Awe, you barely let me touch you that time.”

“‘M so close,” His head shook side to side, “So fuckin’ close.” With one finger, you drew small feather-light lines up and down the underside of his shaft and he was bucking his hips away from you. “No, no, no! Wait!” He begged you to stop, not calmed down enough to be able to withstand another round yet. If you kept touching him, he would surely bust in a second.

Giving him a bit of mercy, you stopped touching his length but switched to rolling his balls in your hand, stimulating him just enough without making him cum. Your own fingers trailed down between your folds and you spread the slick that had accumulated there over your hand, “See what you do to me, Tommy? You make me so so wet.”

Using your wetness as lube, you began stroking his shaft again without much warning. Tom was bucking into your hand without realizing it but you shifted your weight to sit on top of his thighs, removing his leverage to continue. “Nuh-uh,” you chided, “You made sure I couldn’t trust you earlier.”

Tom pulled hard against the handcuffs, his muscles flexing as if he was a Greek god. Your free hand went back between your legs and you rubbed yourself in slow, small circles to warm yourself up for when you’d allow yourself to cum with him as well. The tears in Tom’s eyes had since dried but his eyes were shut tight and his teeth were grit together. “I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.” You demanded, increasing the pressure slightly.

Tom shook his head, “I can’t! Shit- Fuck!” He cried as he finally came hard. A massive wave of pleasure like he’d never felt washed over him but it was quickly ruined when your hand stopped stroking him the moment you noticed him cumming.

By the time the first ribbon of white came to paint his abs, you removed your hand and watched as he tried desperately to get some sort of friction to work him through his ruined orgasm. He was crying again, an entire day’s worth of edging now ruined in an agonizingly unsatisfying orgasm. That first glimpse was an Earth-shattering orgasm that was lost as soon as your hand stopped stimulating him.

You watched with an amazement you’d only allow to show on your face when his eyes were shut as he just kept cumming and cumming. It was clear by the way his cock twitched that it was aching for more stimulation but you refused to give it to him.

“Tommy,” your voice was soft but it was laced with disappointment, “I told you you’d be punished if you couldn’t follow directions.”

“I’m sorry! I just couldn’t get the words out in time.” His chest was heaving and his voice was still whiny.

You nodded sympathetically, “I know, I know. But rules are rules, love. Maybe next time you can cum for real when you can follow instructions.” You crawled over him and clicked the release trigger on the handcuffs, slipping them off his wrists and kissing the angry red lines on them from where he’d been pulling on them. He brought his arms down, blood rushing back into the appendages.

“Now, you get to watch me get off and I don’t care if you get hard again. There’s no touching for the rest of the night.” You rolled off of him to lie on the bed beside him, your legs spreading wide and you hooked the left one over his leg. Your fingers swiped across your bundle of nerves and you clenched around nothing as you set the pace that would get you there quickly.

Tom sat up a little straighter, eyes glued to where your hand disappeared between your legs, “Can I touch you?” He asked, looking back over to your eyes.

“Why should I let you?”

“To show you just how sorry I am.” His hand came to rub your thigh in a testing show of affection. Your eyes glanced down to where his hand met your skin and then back up with a quirked brow to show him that you saw straight through his coy attempts. Just because you noticed them didn’t mean you were objected to them though and after an entire day of dripping over Tom, you thought it was only fair if you got a little something in return.

“Alright, fine. Since you asked so nicely.” Your dominating persona cracked a little when you laughed at the way he nearly pounced on you, lips aching to touch every square inch of your perfect body. First, he started at your lips, attacking them until they were plump and swollen. He worked his way down your neck and then your body, knowing every spot, every button to push just like you knew his.

By the time his mouth reached your core, your heart was already racing with arousal. His hot breath fanned over you as he took a moment to admire you, “You’re so fucking beautiful, even when you’re being mean.” He looked up from between your thighs with a cheeky grin and you reached down to playfully smack the side of his head.

“Somebody just can’t learn their lesson,” You chuckled, having dropped the dominant act. It was hard to keep up when Tom snapped out of his submissive one and turned into your cute puppy dog of a boyfriend.

The shit eating grin on his face disappeared a little lower once again and his tongue ran a long stripe up your folds. You moaned out, toying with your nipples, “Oh God….” Tom smirked against your sex, licking you again, only this time, letting the tip of his tongue slip inside of you just enough to tease. His arms wrapped around thighs when they moved against your will and he held them down. Finally, his tongue flicked at that sensitive bud you needed him to touch so badly and you let out a shaky breath when he finally found it.

“Shit,” You let out a breathless chuckle, hands threading in his hair and tugging slightly when his lips around you completely, sucking harshly on your clit. “Holy fuck!” Tom continued to do that while gently slipping a single finger inside your entrance, pumping slowly at first to warm you up. With how insanely wet you’d been all day, though, it was a warm up that was unneeded. A second finger soon joined it and he curled them up just right to hit that spot inside you that made you see sparks.

“Oh my gosh, Tom. Right there!” You whined out, one hand pulling your nipple with one hand and his hair with the other. With the arm he had wrapped around your thigh, he pressed his palm flat against the skin just above your pubic bone, making the pressure against your g-spot that much more intense.

“I’m gonna cum!” You moaned, sitting up on your elbows to watch Tom work you to your orgasm. That band in your stomach snapped and you fell back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure as Tom slowed down until you finished squeezing around his fingers.

Tom pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed your core gently, still feeling the pulsing, radiating heat coming from it. “Are you okay?” He asked, chuckling a little at your absolutely fucked out expression.

“Where did you learn to do that?” You questioned, never having had him try pressing on you from the outside while fingering you while eating you out. It was explosive.

Tom’s cheeks were still red from earlier as he looked at you with a cautiously proud expression, “Haz had told me about it.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Of course, he did.”

Tom crawled back up to kiss you on the lips, “Am I forgiven?”

You feigned a look of deep thought before sighing in “defeat”, which really just fade into a giggly kiss, “I guess so.”

#tom holland #sub!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #Arvin Russell #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x reader #cherry #tdatt #The Devil All The Time #tdatt fics

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dirty-urie · 3 years

Text

McBrendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

Unspecified Era

Smut Oneshot

NC-17

3.2k Words

Warnings in order of appearance: RPF, language throughout, not pre-discussed roleplay scene, medical roleplay and language, sex

Author's Notes:

So, basically, I was re-watching Grey's Anatomy, and I was like, "What if Brendon was here?" and then this was born. I have no idea if someone who's never watched Grey's Anatomy would understand or appreciate this, but basically what I think you need to know is that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan are sexy manwhores (in the earier seasons), and a common recurring joke in the earlier seasons of the show is putting "Mc" in front of adjectives to describe love interests. The fic is supposed to be more silly than sexy, but maybe it's sexy too, I don't really know.

"Wait, what about those two?" He asks, and you sigh exasperatedly.

"Brendon, just assume that all of the doctors on the Doctor Sex Show have slept together. That's the whole point."

He groans and slumps back in his chair, "Remind me why we have to watch this overdramatic doctor smut in the theater? The theater should be a sacred space for Disney movies or action movies with boobies and explosions, not 'ohhhh does McCreamy only like Natalie because she hooked up with Appendectomy?.'"

"It's my week on laundry duty, and whoever's folding laundry gets to watch whatever they want wherever they want. That's the rules, but you can go watch something in the living room or on your computer or on your phone if you don't like it," you offer, trying to get rid of him. You love Brendon, you love him so much, but sometimes you need to sit in the dark and fold laundry with no other noises except your soapy little doctor show.

"Fine. The men of the house are going to go watch something manly, don't bother us. Come on, Bogart!"

Brendon's little Jack Russell turns to look at you as if asking to stay, but you pat his back and send him off to go snuggle with his dad. You don't think you could handle Brendon's betrayed gasps if you let Bogart finish the episode with you. You and Penny will be fine ogling at Patrick Dempsey while file-folding Brendon's 68 pairs of gray and black sweatpants alone. Brendon kisses your cheek before he leaves. "Have fun with the boobs and explosions, babe," you tell him on his way out of the room.

"Oh, you know I will!"

•••

Two weeks later, it's your turn to fold laundry again, and you're back to watching Grey's, this time in the living room. The dogs are sitting next to you, eyes glued to the screen. Brendon's also in the room, bitching about "introducing this drivel into our home," but you're ignoring him because you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.

He finally quiets down, and you appreciate the five minutes of peace. Until… "Are you unsatisfied with our sex life?" He asks out of the blue.

You're taken completely aback for a second before you scramble to pause the tv. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what? Where did this come from?" you ask him. What the fuck? Is he unsatisfied with your sex life?

"Well, we haven't had sex in weeks practically." Three days actually. It's been three days, but you don't interrupt him. "And you keep watching this sexy doctor show, so I don't know, maybe you're feeling like a bored housewife," Brendon explains.

You laugh at him, and he looks offended. "You're overthinking it, baby boy. It's just a show! Sure, the sexual tension between the entire hospital and Mark Sloan is spicy and exciting, but I'm not trying to compensate for anything lacking in my life. If anything, all that spice just translates into better sex for both of us. Okay?"

He looks very skeptical. "Hm, sure. I totally believe you."

You don't necessarily think you properly got your point across to him, but Meredith just made another bad decision, and you need to see how it pans out. "Okay, great, now go watch a manly show with Bogs in our room if you're going to keep whining."

Brendon does not, in fact, go into your room to watch a manly show on his laptop. Instead, he and Bogart start watching season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, immediately getting highly invested in the lives of the ambitious-yet-messy surgical interns. He's trying to figure out what exactly appeals to you about the show.

•••

It's his turn to fold the clothes, and he's doing it wrong, but you're resisting the urge to do it for him because you're a feminist, damnit. He's still letting you watch Grey's Anatomy because he's a doll (and you don't know this, but he's also become a bit of a fan.)

"Do you think I'm more a Mark Sloan or a Derek Shepherd?" He asks.

You scoff, "You're a George."

"I am not! I'm way sexier than George!"

"You're just jealous because I'm an Addison."

"Pshh, you're a Bailey. You wanna know how I know?" He asks.

"Fine. Tell me." You give in.

"You desperately want to correct my laundry technique."

•••

"Meet me in the on-call room in five," Brendon whispers against the back of your neck while you're drying the dishes from dinner. What is this man doing? "Meet you where?" You ask, but he's already walked away. You're not sure whether to actually wait the five minutes or just try to go find him.

You give him three minutes before going to the bedroom. You honestly don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't Brendon laying on his side in the middle of your bed, shirtless under a white coat. He has on a pair of navy blue scrub pants that aren't particularly flattering, but they still look nice on him.

"Explain to me what's happening here, homie," you tell him.

"I'm being sexy for you! So sexy! I'm Dr. Brendon "McKinky" Urie, I'm a general surgery attending, but my real specialty is pleasure."

You visibly cringe for him. "You're a McDoofus, and your real specialty is probably malpractice."

He pouts. "Play along. Come on. Please? Be Dr. Y/N Sexy."

You roll your eyes. "Why do you get your real last name, but I'm Dr. Sexy?"

"Because we're not married in this fantasy! We're both cheating on our spouses but not in a tragic way, in a sexy way! Come on! Let yourself have fun," he pleads.

You feel yourself start to cave. "Fine, I'll play along, but I'm stopping this the minute I feel weird, okay?"

"Of course. And, babe, if you don't want to do this, you absolutely do not have to," he says, serious now.

"No, no, Brendon. I'm down for this. I think you're a total goof for doing it, but I trust you."

He brightens, "Great! Now it's time for your examination." He waggles his eyebrows, climbing off the bed and gesturing for you to take his place.

"Exam? Am I a patient? Why am I in the on-call room if I'm a patient?" You ask.

"Doctors need exams too, y'know. We're both doctors, but I don't know, you need a routine exam for like moles or something. Take your clothes off." He says, and you take a split-second to be grateful that Brendon got discovered for his musical talents and will therefore never be an actual doctor.

You stifle back your laughter and strip down to your underwear, lying on your back on top of the white sheet he put over the comforter to protect the bed from any potential messes. He stands over you next to the bed, and you're happy that you at least get to stare at his body during this little experiment. The whole "doctor" thing may not be driving you wild on its own, but your half-naked husband always will.

"Thank you for coming to this appointment, Dr. Y/N Sexy," he says. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, you chant in your head. "First," he says, making his voice husky, "I need to test your reflexes." Something tells you he won't be using one of those little hammers. He bends down and breathes against your neck. You shiver, and goosebumps appear on your arms. You're glad you wore your front clasp bra when he unclips it and has immediate access to your breasts. He circles around your nipple with his finger, and they harden quickly. "Mmm, good reflexes indeed. Very responsive," he purrs. "I don't think your test results are conclusive yet. You should keep going," you encourage. He rubs your scalp, and your head rolls back. You're worried that you'll start drooling.

Brendon smirks at you a little, and his smugness is slightly infuriating. Yes, you like him touching you, but that hardly proves that his weird roleplaying was a good idea. "Just like I observed, fantastic reflexes. But I now must move on to the chest exam." He rests his head on your chest, and you're beginning to suspect that this whole thing was just a ploy to touch your boobs a lot. "Is your heart rate always this fast or just when your hot coworker is touching you?"

"Normally only my husband, also named Brendon… for some reason, can get me so worked up, but now I'm thinking of leaving him for you, McCrinkly."

"It's McKinky, and your husband sounds gorgeous and super smart. You should keep him around," he says, climbing onto you and groping your breasts. "In my professional opinion, these are nice tits."

You have to bite your lip to resist the urge to laugh again. You wouldn't quite say you're aroused, but you are having fun at least. "Okay, okay, doc. Enough of the preliminary exam; I need five and a half inches, stat."

"You couldn't round up to six while we're playing!?"

"Oh, come on, you're lucky I rounded up to five and a half!"

"Rude! So rude!"

You kiss him to shut him up. "Sorry, baby, I won't bully you anymore. Now, how about a cervical exam?" You suggest, craving his thickness inside you.

That cheers him up. Brendon resumes his doctor roleplay. "First, let me complete the dermatological examination. If you could remove your undergarments, please."

You throw your bra on the floor and take off your underwear.

He admires the small amount of newly-exposed skin. "So many marks on your breasts and pubic region. Did your hot husband leave these too, or should I investigate for a skin condition?" He asks, ducking between your thighs to add some more.

"Yeah, he left them there. My sexy husband is kind of the best, but enough about him," you say.

New dark spots pop up after he finally moves his mouth from the sensitive skin of your thighs. "Oops, I think I just burst a couple of capillaries."

Well, someone did some light googling. "Do you think I'll make it?" You ask, faking drama.

"Yes, but you'll need someone to pay lots of attention to the area between your thighs."

He never mastered the art of subtly, did he? "I don't think that will be an issue. My husband will be thrilled."

"Great, that's taken care of. Shall we commence with the cervical exam then?" He asks, rolling off you to tug off his scrubs and underwear. He keeps his dumb coat on, which is more goofy than sexy without clothes underneath, but you don't tell him that. "And we can test your motor skills at the same time. Hands and knees, please."

You obey, and he moves behind you to enter you. He pushes into you quickly and hard, just like you like it. "God, there's so much blood in my, hm, um corpus cavernosum… I think," he says.

"Your what? Are you trying to cast a Harry Potter spell? because that's a whole different roleplay," You crane your neck back to see him, and your eyes widen. "Brendon, are you," you need to pause to choke back your laughter, "are you reading from a flashcard? While inside me?"

He's on his knees behind you, squinting at a white notecard. He flips the card over and reads from it, "the corpus cavernosum is, um, the main erectile tissue in the genitals. So, uh, I was trying to say that I'm hard for you."

That's it, you can't contain your laughter. You can't even bear to look at Brendon without cracking up. Tears are streaming down your face. He hisses, and you think it's because you've upset him, but you turn back to look at him, and he's biting his lip, his head tilted back.

"Are you good, B?" You ask, a little worried.

He's breathing hard. "Yeah, just your laughing caused contractions around my cock, and I was not prepared. Felt good, just unexpected." He pulls almost all the way out and then jerks back in, not quite slamming but gearing up to it.

"Faster, please. Careful still, but faster," you request.

He speeds up perfectly, finally filling you up and relieving the ache inside you. You relish each time his hips meet your body, feeling close to him, even if the position isn't as intimate as he usually likes. You suppose successful Dr. Kinky, notorious womanizer, wouldn't necessarily want to make loving, passionate eye contact with all of his conquests.

"So, Dr. Kinky-"

"No, it's doctor Urie, McKinky."

Jesus, you need a script. "So, Dr. Urie, do you have enough energy after all those lobotomies or whatever to rub a girl's clit? I bet my husband, the other Brendon, would touch me."

"Well, I would never even bother to compete with such a stellar man, but I can still try to get you off." His hands move between your thighs to touch your cunt. "Oh no, so much excess fluid here. I hope nothing's wrong." He puts a finger on your throbbing clit and feigns a sigh of relief, "Good, I've found a pulse." His touch is feather-light as he slowly strokes you. The contrast between his fast, hard thrusts and delicate strokes somehow enhances both of his actions.

"Oh, that's nice," you moan.

"You mind if I have you roll over? I still have to test your flexibility, and I'd love to do that with your legs on my shoulders."

"Fuck yeah."

He pulls out, and you get on your back; he gets you ready by situating the pillows underneath you. You rest a leg on either shoulder, and he thrusts in again. You don't want to admit it to him, but you feel like you'll need to come soon. The spikes of pleasure pulsing between your legs have been getting stronger and closer together, and now that you can see what you do to him, rather than just hearing his occasional grunts, you feel even closer to crossing that finish line.

"I'm observing some rapid contractions, Sexy. Should I note in your chart how close you are to coming all over me? Because it seems to me that you're failing your stamina and endurance evaluation," Dr. Urie teases.

You close your eyes to try to eliminate a source of the arousal, but you still feel painfully close to the edge.

Brendon inadvertently shifts a bit, and that does it. Your arousal peaks intensely, and you try to restrain your reactions on the off chance he doesn't notice. However, you're pretty sure he does notice your orgasm when his movements slow to a stop, and that's confirmed when he outright says it. "You just came," he states. It's not a question.

You nod, not bothering to deny it.

He pulls out, and you finally get to see his still-hard cock soaked with your wetness. "Well I suppose, we can run… further tests to reach a full diagnosis," he practically croons, pulling his scrub pants back on, and a wave of lust spreads from your stomach. Fine, the doctor thing is a little hot. "It's up to you though, I defer to your professional opinion."

"I think my exam is complete, actually, but I know you've been complaining of some pain in this region," you give his crotch a quick squeeze. "Do you mind stripping so I can investigate?"

He immediately takes off his coat, obviously excited, and gives it to you, so you put it on. "So, can you describe the pain?" You ask, putting a hand on his thigh.

"Kind of an ache, I guess?"

You squeeze his thigh, "And you'd say the pain is mainly here?"

"No, uh, um, to the right."

You squeeze his other thigh, "Oh, I see, right here?"

"No, not, um, my thigh."

"Sorry, I understand." You lay your hand flat on his stomach, still carefully avoiding his cock. "Your stomach must be hurting."

"Still not quite."

You clench your jaw in fake frustration. "Well, could you just show me where you need my attention, Doctor Urie?"

He shoves down his pants and grasps his leaking cock, groaning in relief when he starts to tentatively touch himself.

"Yes, very good, thank you. Would you say the ache subsides with stimulation?" You ask professionally.

Brendon nods and smirks a bit, "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, I think you just need to achieve ejaculation," you diagnose.

"Is that, ah, covered under my insurance?" He asks cheekily, still jerking himself.

You laugh, going to dig the lubricant out, "Okay," you nudge his hand away, "leave this to the professionals." You pour the clear lube into your hand. "This may be a bit cold," you warn. He doesn't really need the lube, he's both leaking profusely and still slick from being inside you, but you want to keep up the "doctor vibes." You grasp him firmly and stroke quickly, trying to get him off as soon as you can. You kind of want to use your mouth, but you can't think of a good reason to within the roleplay. That's mostly fine, though, because you can tell he's about to come.

He comes all over your hand without warning a minute or so later. He shudders and groans, spurting twice more. You didn’t realize how worked up he was. Of course, you saw how hard he was, but to come this much from just jerking him off means he was really turned on. "Outstanding sperm production, sir," you say, crudely wiping him up with a tissue.

"Okay, no more doctor talk. My brain is too mushy," he groans.

You take off the coat and get into bed, cuddling against him. "If your brain is mushy, you probably should see a doctor."

He giggles. "So, would you do this again?"

You think for a second. "Well, I'd roleplay with you again, but you have to warn me next time. And probably not the doctor thing again. It was hot playing with you, but thinking about actual medical procedures is not my thing."

He yawns, "Noted about the warning you next time, and that's too bad. I was really looking forward to the oral exam. How big is your mouth? How's your swallow technique?" He says, half-jokingly.

"Hey, don't push it, or we're doing a prostate exam, and due to budget cuts to the hospital, we're going to be low on lubricant."

He cringes, "Point taken. I don't need a doctor roleplay; the next time I want a blowjob, I'll just ask."

You get out of bed and put on your pajamas. "Well, if it's in the next 45 minutes, your request is getting denied because Penny Lane, Bogart, and I are watching the real Grey's Anatomy in the theater while you're still too weak to complain about it. And this is a good time to tell you that my character is not actually a medical doctor. I have a PHD in film studies. I’m a fraud.”

His mouth drops open, "You're telling me that wasn't an official medical handjob?!"

"I trust that you'll get over this. Love you, babe."

He scowls but still mutters a quiet, “I love you too.”

#brendon urie smut #brendon urie fanfiction #my work

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3mmafr0st · 3 years

Text

Remember Me Pt 4

Previous <------

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, incarceration? and my shitty writing

A/N: Please comment or reblog, any feedback is amazing!

The room was small, with an interrogation table in front of me, everything the same shade of muted grey I woke up here earlier, and had been waiting for someone, anyone to come in and give me some information. Tugging at the cuffs that pinned me down to the table, I struggled to break free.

“Sorry, you’re not gonna be able to get out of those. They’re made for enhanced people.” My eyes immediately darted to find the sound, settling on a man walking through the door.

“It’s you, from the lab. Who are you, how do you know my name? Where’s Bucky?” The questions began spilling out of my mouth, desperate for some sort of answers as to what the hell is going on. The man pulled out the chair that sat across from me, a file of papers in his hands.

“My name is Bruce, and let’s start with how much you remember,” He said. The name felt familiar, and although I was fighting him off before, I knew that I could trust him for some reason. His face was kind, and his voice was low and calming.

“It’s bits and pieces, nothing before Hydra, although I wish I did know, how do you know me?”

“Your name is Y/N Banner, a young scientific prodigy in quantum physics. According to records, you were the only one who was able to crack the secret of the Pym particle. You disappeared when you were nineteen years old after a college party, and no one had seen you since until now.” Banner, that was my last name, Banner. It had a nice ring to it, it felt powerful, strong.

“How long has it been since then?” He takes a deep breath, contemplating whether he should tell me or not.

“It’s been thirty-seven years.” It felt like a punch to the gut, they stole that much time from me. They stole thirty seven years from my life. Rage began coarsing through my veins, I needed to expel this, now. I smashed my hands into the table, before letting out an annoyed “fuck” from the pain. My hands left a small dent in the metal table.

“I’m sorry about the table, it's just, when you find out 37 years have been stolen from you, its hard to control your anger.”

“I know the feeling, believe me.” His hand fell over mine, and his eyes met mine, and although it was cloudy, something bubbled to the surface.

“Hey Stats, do you think I could get a hand with this?” Bruce’s voice called through the house. I rounded out of my own room to the room next door, where Bruce sat on his bed, books spread across the sheets and papers in every direction. His eyes looked up to me, pleading for help.

“Okay kid, what’s going on?”

“It’s this parabola problem, I’ve tried it like a billion times!” I laughed a little at his remark

“Bud, you and I both know that a billion is a bit of an overstatement. Let me see what we can do.” I saw the mistake immediately, a small computing error that he had been doing every single time. I circled the small mistake that had been throwing the whole problem off. He groaned loudly, letting out an annoyed “Really?”

“It’s gonna be okay, it was just a little computing error is all, there’s nothing to worry about.”

The two of us just sat, talking about school and stuff, how we were excited for the new school year. Bruce’s face fell, halfway through my sentence about the dorms.

“Bruce, what’s wrong?” He held his tongue for a moment, eyes beginning to get glassy.

“Why do you have to go away this year? Why can’t you just stay here, like regular?” I sighed. I knew he would react like this. I was finally 18, which meant legally, I could move out. Although I had completed most of my time in college at home already, I was going for my second doctorate and I wanted to finally have the chance to have the normal college experience, or at least as close to it as I could get. I needed to be an adult for once, be seen as an adult and not the child prodigy that I had always been seen as.

“Buddy, you know I want to be with you, hell, I’d bring you with me if I could, but they don’t allow 8 year olds in college dorms. I need to be an adult now, and I can’t do that staying home.” His eyes began to water, and I opened my arms out to him. “Come here, buddy.”

Bruce cried like that for a half an hour, as I held the small boy in his sadness, until he began to drift off to sleep.

“You’re the boy?” I said, looking at him. He definitely looked like the boy from my memory, but much older, with more lines on his face and a small scraggly bit of stubble, as if he had forgotten to shave, with a floppy curly mess on top, just like the boy had.

“What boy?” He asked tentatively, his eyes telling the story of hesitation and hurt, like he was holding back hope in fear of his heart breaking another time.

“There was a boy. I helped him with his math homework. He cried and I held him, his name was Bruce.”

“You remember?”

“Im starting.”

“You ok?” Steve asked me, nudging my arm. His eyes looked down at me in concern but I reassured him.

“I’m okay, Steve, I’ll be okay.”

“Tony couldn’t get us rooms next to each other, you’re on the fifth floor, I’m on the second.”

“Sounds good.”

Steve and I had grown to become pretty great friends since I got back. Steve and Bruce were the only ones that I felt safe enough around to talk to at the compound even from the beginning. I spent most of my time in the past few months either spending time with Bruce, and recovering my memories, or working with Steve to find Bucky. Spending my days going through mounds of papers and mission reports, to lunch dates working in the lab to help me regain that one and a half PhDs of information had been a daily occurrence and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Well, I would have it one other way. The only thing that would have made it better would be if Bucky was here with me. That’s why we were here, to find him and bring him home. We found a lead that told us he had been in Nevada for a while, specifically Vegas. We had booked a room at the hotel that he had been seen at.

As the elevator doors opened, Steve held the door open for me. “Get a good night’s sleep, we’ll get to work in the morning.”

“See ya in the morning, Steve.” I told him, as the doors began to close, leaving me in the hallway of the fifth floor. It was nice of him to go with me all the way up the elevator. I walked the long and winding halls until I found the right number, room 2603. Swiping the small key card against the scanner, the door clicked open and I walked inside. The room was clean, and out of complete habit, I began scanning the room for bugs, checking around the room to make sure nothing was listening in. Once I sweeped the place, the bed began to call to me, and I abandoned my clothing, before getting myself into bed, only a comfy shirt and panties left clinging to my body. With all the work that we had been doing to find Bucky, it was nice to have a chance to at least try and get some rest.

Bucky’s POV

I had hoped that she would come. There wasn’t much that I remembered, not yet at least, but she was coming back to me. I didn’t know how I knew here, but she was important, I could feel it. I knew the other guy was there two, Steve, the one I knew a long time ago, but for some reason, I knew I needed to see her. The two of them were important to me, I just knew it. There was an abandoned building to the side of the hotel that they were staying at, and I could see into the window of her room. The lights were dark, as she slept comfortably in her bed. I knew I shouldn’t, but I had to get closer, to see her. The clear, glassless window that I sat at was a clear shot from the balcony of her room.

Backing up from the edge, I took in a deep breath, calming my heart rate as I began running towards the opening. Pushing off the cement framing, I launched myself into the air, pushing myself forward even more until I felt my feet hit the cement of the balcony.

I could see her in there, sleeping. Somewhere inside of my head I knew this whole thing was wrong, but I couldn’t seem to stay away from her. It was creepy, wrong, but she looked so peaceful and innocent. It was a familiar feeling, not being in control, but this was different.

My head screamed out about how wrong this was, how disgusting I was being, while the rest of me was breaking the lock off of the door, walking into the room. The sound of the lock breaking and the door opening must have been too much sound, her body shot up in her bed, looking straight at me.

Reader POV

This has to be a dream, it couldn’t be anything else, a lucid dream that my brain had created to cope with the nightmares. There he stood, in the same room as me, dirty jacket and a baseball cap. His hair had gotten longer, like he hadnt been able to get it cut.

“Bucky?” My voice wavered with nerves and emotion, so scared that the man would disappear if I acknowledged that he’s here.

“You know me.” His voice was low and gruff, like he hadn’t had to use it in a while. I could feel my heart break. Although it was a statement and not a question. I could tell that he wasn’t all there, he didn’t remember me. Was this what Bruce felt like? Was this what it was like for him to see me, to know me, but the memory unreciprocated? A tear began to fall down my face, unable to control it.

“Yes, Buck, I know you.”

“Who are -“ he struggled to speak. “Who are you to me?” The knife that was already gutting me twisted into my stomach even more.

“Do you want to come closer?” I tried to keep calm as I spoke, not wanting to scare the man off. He was reluctant to come near me. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“In all fairness, that's not what I’m worried about, doll.” There was a flash of him, of my Bucky pushing through the fog to find me. I must have taken too long. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I-“

“Come here, please.” Hesitantly, he walked closer, but not close enough. Pulling the covers off of myself, I rose from the bed, walking to meet him in the middle.

“Who are you?” He was close, his breath fanning my face as I looked up at him.

“Can I show you?” He nodded, almost desperately, and I closed the gap between us, pushing myself into him and meeting my lips with his. At first he was shocked, not moving his lips against my own, but after a moment, it was as if pure instinct took over, as his mouth roughly kissed mine, pushing me back into the bed.

My back hit the covers, and I gasped out in surprise, giving Bucky the chance to deepen the kiss. Our tongues battled for dominance for a short while, but he won out in the end. I wrapped my fingers in his hair, tugging slightly. The man groaned out into my mouth, sending the feeling straight to my core.

Fuck, it had been too long. His hands were on me, holding my waist down on the bed. I gasped out, feeling as his metal hand had found its way under my shirt, playing with the flesh, twisting and pinching at my nipple; My hips bucked up, rolling over his clothed dick, and he let out a louder moan. I tested, rolling my hips over a few more times, before Bucky got impatient.

Bucky’s hand immediately trailed downward, slipping his hand past my panties. Two fingers pressed at my clit, and I cried out, hypersensitive after being away from him for so long. He was oddly silent, no clever quips or comments that I had been used to. I still couldn’t tell how much he really remembered.

His fingers began to make rough and harsh circles on my clit, making my back curl up into his chest.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I cried out, absolutely wrecked just by his touch after so long away from him. Quickly, fingers moved downwards, circling my entrance before easing them into me. Eyes rolled into the back of my head as he found that spongy spot inside of me, curling his fingers over it. I could feel the tightened knot in my stomach threatening to snap.

“Buck-“ I cried out as he suddenly sped up, pushing his fingers in and out of me as fast as he could. Screaming out, the knot snapped, my vision going white as the tsunami like wave passed through my body. Bucky slowed down his fingers, working me through my orgasm until the feeling had passed.

The sound of his belt unbuckling was music to my ears, knowing what was coming. The anticipation was absolutely killing me, as I heard fabric shift, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans slide away, along with his boxers. My head threw back as he began to tease, running the tip of his dick up and down me, never getting quite near where I needed him most.

“Bucky please, fuck me,” I breathed out, barely able to catch my own breath. He began to line himself up with me, and then suddenly without warning, slammed his hips into me. “Holy fuck, Bucky!”

His fingers dug into my hips harshly, I hoped that it would leave bruises after. His hips pistoned into me fast and harsh, the man knew what he wanted and he was going to get it, and goddamn it felt fucking good. His lips claimed mine, swallowing the sounds coming from my throat. It was like he was everywhere, I could only feel him.

It was all too overwhelming, and with little warning, my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I cried out for him, as his hips began to falter from his pace, getting closer and closer to his release. His dick twitched inside of me, and I felt as he spilled inside me, filling me up.

The sun began to creep through the window, waking me up. Confused, I got up from the hotel bed, I could have sworn that I had left the blinds shut when I fell asleep last night. I was pleasantly surprised with my own head last night. Normally, when my head hit the pillow, all I would see were the faces of the people I killed, reliving the awful memories that I have to deal with, but last night was different. I got to see Bucky. It was so real, his hands on my skin, his fingers and dick inside me.

I examined the door, looking for a moment, and noticing the lock that had been crushed, pulled out, and sat on the balcony. I couldnt understand what happened, until I looked at my own body. Lifting up my shirt slightly, I could see the purple indentations of his fingertips, Bucky’s fingertips.

It hadn’t been a dream after all.

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x banner!reader #bucky fanfic #tfatws #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky smut #smut #angst #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #marvel self insert #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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bokutosbubblebutt · 3 years

Text

Chapter: Happiness || Teaser

——————

To be honest, it was really a miracle how you got there. You never expected that your parents would allow you to leave the house, to go outside, meet other people, start a life.

After never ending discussions, trying to find a compromise, they really said yes.

"We will try it a few months and if we are satisfied, if they can keep you safe, you can stay!"

You never felt more happy in your entire life. You finally could go outside, start a life, meet people, make finally friends and maybe even fall in love. Something you had dreamt about since you started reading.

Even though there was a high chance of being forced to go back to your place, the place that was supposed to keep you safe from every injury possible, you tried to make the best out of it. Even though there was a high chance of getting hurt and accidentally killing yourself, you tried your best to enjoy it.

Nervous but excited you were standing in front of your new teachers office, Mr. Aizawa. You already read about him in a superhero blog. He was the one, who could easily erase the quirks of his enemies and then capture them with his weapon. Pretty impressive, in your opinion. Simple but very effective.

It was really early in the morning. The classes usually start around 8:20 and it was 7:30 now. Already a bunch of people came across your way. You greeted everyone nicely and smiled at them but they all seemed to be in a hurry and stressed. Well, it was the first day of a new school year and taking care of such a big school with so many future pro heroes must be really complicated.

The school. Overwhelming! The campus was gigantic and had so many buildings, grounds and areas. You barely ever left your house, so it happens that you even got overwhelmed by only visiting the shopping center sometimes. Such a big place with so many different individuals made you panic a bit, and since you weren't used to being surrounded by people, you may suffered from social anxiety but the excitement and your curiosity made you gladly forget about it.

Your only concern right now was that you just tried to not get lost in here.

The whole atmosphere was completely different than at home. Here, it made you feel free like living an exciting life full of many people and different activities. At home, it was like a constant feeling of not being yourself or more like not knowing yourself.

And it smelled different here. It smelled like something sweet and dangerous, but quite serious as well. The sweetness definitely came from a lady that walked past you a few minutes ago. You recognized her immediately by her hero costume. It was the pro hero Midnight. For some reasons you've always looked up to her. She just always did what she wanted, not caring about what others think or tell her, sometimes you wish you could be like her but no, not in your situation.

Nervously you stared at the ceiling, trying to count the blue and white stripes on the metallic plates and not taking care about the things that happened around you. The counting helped you focus on one thing and made you forget about your nervousness.

"You need to go to Mr. Aizawa as well, right?" a deep voice made you snap back to reality and loose your concentrated trance.

A tired looking boy with really dark circles under his eyes was staring at you, scanning your appearance. He looked pretty buff and intimidating at the first sight. His indigo hair was standing up in all directions and made him look really tall. Awkwardly he turned his body towards the door and back to you.

"No taking?" He asked again and stared confused at you. The boy tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. Again his eyes scanned your body. Since you fiddled with your fingers the whole time, your hand caught his attention. A scar was going down from your middle finger to your wrist.

He had never seen you before. He would remember such a sick looking girl. You were really skinny and pale. You had completely grey eyes and light grey, almost white, hair, which stopped straight above your shoulders. Your whole appearance was ghost like and, to be honest, kinda sad. You looked so skinny, your cheekbones clearly defined, a big gap between your legs and like it would only take one little blow, probably just a little refreshing wind in the summer, to make you fly away. If you had a little bit more meat on your body, you would look prettier, he thought but that was just his opinion.

Perplexed you looked at him in shock, still not fully realizing what he just said to you. He's going to be the first person you ever had spoken to besides the people your parents hired and your online friends. He is the one, the first one.

"Uhm, no, I mean yes. I-, I am just nervous. Birfst, I mean first big day, you know."

you stuttered awkwardly and blushed in embarrassment. Amused the boy smirked and leaned back against the wall.

Great, the first sentence and you immediately fucked up, you thought. He probably must now be thinking that you are stupid and not able to speak, great.

Again you were staring at the ceiling, counting how many stripes the pattern had to make you forget about what a nervous wreck you actually were right now and he was silently watching you. Again he was trying to remember the person who was standing in front of him, trying to find out if he had seen you before but such a sick and sad looking girl was someone, he definitely would remember.

After waiting some more minutes the door suddenly opened and a man with long black hair and eyes that looked like they would fall shut every second, was standing in the door frame. Mr. Aizawa.

"Come in" he said and walked back into the room.

The boy turned around and walked into the room as well. The office was really messy and many stacks of papers were laying around. It smelled like coffee in here and the morning sun heated up the air, making the little dust particles that were floating around able to see. It was this kind of mixture that gives you a headache if you stay in here for too long.

„You two are the only one who are going to transfer to Class 2-A." he explained and sat down at his desk, trying to find something.

Both Class 2-A? The boy must be one of your new classmates then, you thought. You just hoped that he's not one of those school bullies, who make fun of others, will steal your money and put you into the toilet like you already have read about in some books.

„I already filled out your forms and put them together in your folder. The only thing you need to do, is designing your hero costume but I can't find the sheet for it right now. I'm gonna be right back. Please go trough it and check if we missed something" he handed you your folders and then went through another door.

Your folder was pretty thin if you compare it to the other one. Well, obviously because there was not much information about you so far. Only your stats like height, weight and birthday and of course a description of your quirk.

Quickly you read through everything and checked if there were any mistake and surprisingly there was one. Just a small one but still something you better don't forget.

Curious you were eyeing the other folder and tried to read the boys' stats. After he went to the next page, you finally could read some single words if his quirk description.

"Your quirk is brainwashing?" you suddenly asked and smiled at him in excitement. „How cool! You must be pretty powerful with that, hu?"

Shocked the boy looked at you because he didn't expected you to speak so loudly. He thought you were more shy and quiet, your appearance didn't matched how you talked.

„Uhm, not really." he answered and closed his folder.

„I think it's a pretty cool quirk. How does it work?" you asked the next question and turned your body towards his, grabbing the arm rests of your seat.

„If someone answers me I can activate it." he explained and put the folder back on the desk, still shocked and not knowing how to act.

„But you can control when you activate it or not?"

He simply nodded and looked at you.

„My name is Y/N L/N but you can call me (Nickname). Nice to meet you!" you laughed with a big smile and offered your hand to shake it.

„I'm Hitoshi Shinsou, nice to meet you."

———————

So this is the first chapter of one of my stories I am currently writing on Wattpad

It’s called Chapter: happiness

If you liked the first chapter and are now interested in what’s going to happen next, here’s the link

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modern-vellichor · 4 years

Text

Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage Two: Anger

Warnings: Grief!! Mentions of death, suicide. Loss of a major character. Battles with depression, silent tears, heart and gut wrenching sadness, minor smut just to keep you on your toes.

Series Masterlist

Anger; a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.

Eventually, after weeks of watching the front door with a longing look in your eyes, after weeks of keeping Steve's things untouched, after weeks of waiting up at night for him, you realised, maybe, he isn't coming back. You were mad.

You were angry at Steve, angry at him for lying to you, for leaving you. You were furious at him for leaving you cold and broken and empty and thinking you were strong enough to pick yourself back up again.

You were angry at Bucky for trying. He was always there for you, calming you, telling you everything was okay, and it wasn't, it really wasnt.

You and Steve never argued, never in public anyway. God, if you could see him now, you would scream and shout and make sure he knew how wrong he was, how much you hated him right now. How could he do this to you.

You had disobeyed direct orders on a mission. Steve told you to hold back, but you saw and opportunity, and you took it, it was the right decision. Sure, you got stabbed a few times, but you got what you needed, quicker too.

"I can't believe you, Y/N. I gave you a direct order and you didn't follow it. Look at you now, you could have died"

You rolled your eyes at the love of your life, sighed, and stood up, blood trickling through your fingers clutched to your side.

"With all due respect, Captain, I did what had to be done, and it worked. So don't criticize my decisions", you only called him Captain when you were raging, when you thought he didn't even deserve the acknowledgment of a name.

"You are hurt, you went against me. I could ruin your career for that stunt"

"You wouldn't dare, don't lie to yourself"

"God, you're so fucking full of yourself, Y/N"

"excuse me?", you scoffed, eyebrows raised. Steve immediately regretted his words, uttering hurried apologies. "You know what, Cap, I am full of myself. I'm such a narcissist, such a bad person, huh. Where did our little golden boy go wrong, ending up with a good for nothing gal like me, huh?"

As if right on time, the jet had landed, so you made a grand exit, waltzing off the jet with your head held high, and tears in your eyes.

You couldn't go to your own room, not where the sheets smelled of him, not where his things sat snug next to yours. So you knocked on Bucky's door, he let you in without hesitation. He walked you to his bed, he held you as you cried, cradled you until you slept. He tucked you in under blankets that smelled like coconut, gun powder, and whiskey.

So as you lay, head buried into a pillow that smelt like Steve, tears staining soft satin, you thought about doing the exact same thing.

You picked yourself up, untangling yourself from the sheets, bare feet padding to the elevator. Straight to Bucky's door.

knock knock knock. gentle and soft, barely audible.

"doll?", he was half asleep in his doorway.

"hey, buck", you muttered, smiling sadly.

"what's up?"

"I can't sleep in there, Bucky. I can't do it. I swear to god, hes everywhere", you sobbed.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his room, into his bed. For once, you welcomed the cooing and the soft touches. You appreciated the way he cradled your face in his hands as you cried, catching tears with his thumbs as he watched you fall apart. He was holding you together, his legs tangled with yours, his lips uttering sweet redemption into your hair, hands softly drawing circles on your back.

You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him in return, you pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in, soaking him up. This was what you need right now, and you fell asleep bathed in the warmth of his bare soul.

Bucky's eyes opened to you making your way out of his room. He sighed, hands reached out to you, lazily.

"why are you up so early, doll?", he checked the clock. 05:57am.

"I gotta work"

"you really gotta take some time off, you're gonna work yourself to death, especially in your form"

You gave him a small smile, "I'll be fine, Barnes. Go back to sleep"

He happily obliged, rolling over and closing his eyes, hearing the far away click of his door closing.

You locked yourself in your office the entirety of the day, making angry phone calls to people who just wouldn't listen, pacing as you waiting on stats to come through, filing reports, organising mission after mission, without even considering a break.

Bucky knocked on your door around 6, pushing it open softly.

"Hey, Barnes. What is it?", you asked, not looking up from your computer as your fingers danced quickly across the keys.

"Its dinnertime, come eat"

"I'm not hungry, but thank you"

"Y/N", you answered his calls, not taking your eyes off the screen. "Y/N, look at me, for God's sake"

You slammed the laptop shut, eyeing him up and down dangerously. Sure, Bucky Barnes might be able to snap your neck with his little finger, but he couldn't break a man down like you could. He couldn't stare at people so hard it bore holes in their skulls, he couldn't exude power like you did, he couldn't tear into someone's soul with spiteful words and a harsh tone, not like you.

"What was that? I'm looking now, Mr. Barnes, please, embarrass yourself further, you have my full attention", you smiled at him, but it was sly and condescending.

"You haven't eaten all day, you need to eat"

"I need to do my job, and I think you've forgotten that I am, in fact, your superior, so get out of my office", with that, you opened the laptop again, and continued on with your furious typing.

Bucky didn't budge, he knew you could get irritable on a good day, and good days usually didn't involve dying, being resurrected, losing half your team, and taking over Stark Industries.

"Y/N, please, come on. You're being irrational"

"And you're forgetting your place, you always do. I care about you, Buck, but now is not the time to be sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong, go annoy Sam or something, I don't have the time for you"

You stood up and ushered him to your door, with a hand on the handle, you gazed at him with a harsh stare.

"Have a goodnight, Barnes, stay out of my office"

You swung the door closed, if slammed shut mere inches away from Bucky's nose.

You avoided him like the plague for the next few days, not meeting his gaze, not uttering his name. You spent all your time locked in your office, not saying anything to anyone, until you had to.

You called a meeting, the pathetic remains of your team gathered around you. A teenage boy, a bird man, a god of thunder and an ex assassin walked into a room, what a wild joke.

You briefed them, you flew them out to the hotel, nicer than the last one you stayed in. You could only get three rooms, Sam got one to himself, he won rock, paper, scissors.

The awkward silence had settled thick and heavy between you and Bucky, sat on your own separate beds, neon light filtering in through the curtain.

"I think it's your turn to tell me a story", that was the first thing he had said to you in days, you were shocked, a little taken aback.

"what?"

"The last time you and I were in a hotel room, you asked for a story, and I gave you one. I want a story."

"oh", you chuckled, "what about?"

He thought for a minute, shifting to face you, blue eyes bright and playful.

"a boy"

You both laughed, all remnants of anger and spite evaporating. This was exactly like Bucky, make everything better with a joke and a laugh.

"I don't really have stories about boys. I was only 18 when I started with Stark. I met Steve when I was 23-"

"How did you meet Steve?", he cut in. You realised then, no one had ever told Bucky that story.

"He never told you?", Bucky shook his head in response.

"Well-"

You met Steve before Thanos, before Bucky, before Ultron even. You were young,

You walked with purpose across the dirt and sand, General Sanchez struggling to keep up as he briefed you. You were in an old army uniform, one that had once belonged to a friend, it was a little tight but it made do.

"Ms. Y/L/N, you said you called backup?", he asked, hesitant.

"I did", on cue, the quinjet handed some feet ahead, and Tony stepped out. "and there he is"

Tony started to walk alongside you and the General, the team walking a few feet behind you.

"Stark, pleasure seeing you again"

"same goes for you, Y/N, what's happening"

"ever seen Godzilla?"

These creatures had been popping up around coasts all over the world, a couple even had gone as far as peaking tails out of the water, ridges on their backs visible deep below the surface. All you knew is that they were massive, monstrously big, and dangerous. They had been testing the waters, seeing how ready you were for an attack, and today was the day. According to radar scans, the biggest off them all had showed up off the coast of L.A, so here you were.

Steve couldn't help but stare at you, walking tall and dignified, head held high, voice strong and authoritative. Even as you were bleeding out on the floor, cheek swollen, lip cut, eyes blackened, he thought you were beautiful, angelic.

"Really?", Bucky laughed. You just nodded, saddened by the distant memory. "you guys always seemed so, settled"

"once upon a time we were running around like kids, sneaking into empty offices to make out like horny teenagers. We settled down eventually", bitterness was evident in your voice as you spoke. You missed those days, running around with Steve's hand in yours. He had really ruined hand holding for you.

"You wanna know what Steve said to me on our first date?", you asked, breath trembling and voice shaky, tears brimming in your eyes.

"sure..", he spoke hesitantly, not sure if that was the right answer or not.

"He said, "you remind me of a girl I knew back in the war", the same girl he left me for. He fell in love with me because I reminded him of a dead girl."

You and Bucky ducked behind a car, both of you officially out of ammunition. You sighed, looking around for any form of weapon as bullets came ricocheting towards you.

"If this is how we go, I'm gonna be pretty fucking pissed", he scoffed, always making a joke.

"me too, Buck"

Your eyes scanned the ground desperately, Bucky was trying to get to Sam, Thor, even Peter, but the comms had been cut. Your eyes settled on a baseball bat not far from Bucky's feet.

"Hey, Bucky?"

"yeah, pup?", for a split second that dream flashed behind your eyes. pup.

you were snapped from your thought by a bullet flying past your ear.

"I got another story for ya", you grinned. Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

"Now?"

"I used to play a lot of baseball in high school", he followed your gaze, mischievous grin playing at his lips.

"you sure?"

And with that, you emerged from behind the car, bat in hand.

"Hiya, boys", you called out to the two thugs stood in front of you, they trained they're guns on you, just not quick enough.

Before they could even process what was happening, you were on top of them, swinging, punching, kicking. Bucky snuck up behind you, joining in on the fight.

Your breathing was heavy as the two men collapsed at your feet, blood spattered across your chest and face, Bucky couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach, red always was your colour.

There was a wicked smile playing on your lips, teeth sharp and glinting, you looked psychopathic, killer, and Bucky loved it.

Maybe he could help you release some of that anger, he hadn't gotten a good beating in a while.

You went out the night you got back. You almost went to knock on Natasha's door to invite her with you, you stopped yourself with tears in your eyes when you remembered.

You didn't tell anyone where you were going, to be honest, you didn't know yet. You slipped out of the compound quietly, the kind of thing Steve would have disapproved of.

You decided on a quaint little bar, a few blocks away, small and cozy. Old jazz hummed softly through the speakers, you fit right in, blending in with the crowd, no one paid you any mind, and you reveled in it. Being normal for once, being another someone in the crowd, instead of some comic book superhero.

A few hours went by, you spent the time people watching. You paid particular attention to a girl, not much younger than you, she looked just like Natasha, she even ordered a vodka and soda, you just smiled to yourself.

You heard someone slid into the barstool next to you, it must have been at least midnight at this point. He ordered an old fashioned, Bucky's signature. You just kept your attention trained on the other patrons, that was until you felt a hand splayed across your back and warm breath fanning out across your bare shoulder, you were ready to punch a man at least twice your size. You turned around, hand balled into a fist.

"Hey, pup"

"Bucky?"

It must've been the drinks, it had to have been. Bucky's tongue was hot and heavy in your mouth, hands all over your body. He kicked your door closed behind the both of you, pushing you up against it, rough. The wind was knocked from your lungs, his lips travelled down your face, leaving a trail of wet kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He nipped at the shell of your ear before growling, low and animalistic.

"I saw you covered in that blood on the mission, and I just couldn't help myself, pup, I had to get myself a taste"

fuck. me.

@vicmc624 @dee-vn

#captain america x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut

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grailfinders · 3 years

Text

Fate and Phantasms #96: The Count of Monte Cristo

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the King of the Cavern, Edmond Danganron- sorry, the Count of Monte Cristo. Ol’ Eddy’s fast enough to leave afterimages, strong enough for those afterimages to also hit people and hurt them, and plenty of creepy darkness and fire based abilities.

Check out the Count’s build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Helloooo nurse!

Race and Background

This part isn’t that complicated. The Count is a human, and as a Variant Human he gets +1 to Constitution and Wisdom, as well as proficiency in one skill. Grab Acrobatics, because you’re fast and there’s other stuff we’re getting with your class stuff. You also get the Tough feat, giving you an extra 2 HP when you level up. Being the physical embodiment of hatred makes you pretty hard to stamp out.

I don’t think there’s a “wrongfully accused” variation of the Criminal background, so we’re making you a Haunted One instead; your stay in the Chateau d’If left a pretty big impression on you. This gives you Investigation and Survival proficiencies. You could also go Charlatan or Faceless if you want a more book-based Count, but we’re going with the gacha game version.

Ability Scores

Put your highest score into Wisdom. In older versions of D&D, wisdom saves were called will saves, and you’ve got an iron one. After that is Dexterity; you’re a speedy boy, and you’re hard to hit. Third is Constitution- your concentration saves should be instantly passed, and you’re even harder to kill than you are to hit. Intelligence is next, you’re pretty good at revenge schemes, but that’s a niche subject. Your Charisma isn’t that great, but you don’t get directly involved in social situations that often. Finally, dump Strength. You’re actually really strong, but we’re using dexterity for damage, so we don’t need this stat.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: You’re fast and you punch people, and you’ve also spent a lot of time contemplating your place in life in the Chateau d’If. Most of that matches up with a monk well, and a more chaotic character might call a monastery a prison, if you’re really stretching for this to fit 100%. As a monk you get Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC based on your Dexterity and Wisdom so you can fight in a sick chapeau, or a sick Chateau, if you haven’t escaped yet. Speaking of fighting, you can use your fists thanks to your Martial Arts. This lets you use Dexterity instead of Strength for unarmed attacks and damage, your unarmed attacks deal 1d4 damage instead of 1, and you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action after you attack as an action.

2. Fighter 1: You’re not just a speedy punch boy, you’re the speediest punchiest boy, going so fast we can skip 10 levels of monk progression in 1 level of fighter. The Unarmed Fighting fighting style means your fists now do 1d6 damage minimum, or 1d8 if you’re not wielding any weapons or shields (which you shouldn’t be). You can also deal 1d4 damage to grappled creatures each turn, but that probably won’t come up. You like to stay mobile. You also gain a Second Wind, letting you spend a bonus action to heal yourself. You can kinda control time, so there’s no bad moment for a smoke bre- and Guda’s gotten themselves trapped in a dream again.

3. Druid 1: Three classes in three levels? It’s more likely than you think. I know the Count doesn’t turn into a dog, you’ll just have to trust me on this one for now. First level druids learn Druidic, it’s a language, and also how to cast and prepare Spells using Wisdom as your casting ability. Your biography snippets mention you have “poisonous fire”, and I’m not sure how that would work in D&D, so grab Produce Flame and Poison Spray to get poison and fire attacks. For first level spells, Longstrider and Jump will improve your mobility despite your dumped strength, and Protection from Evil and Good is a good way to protect your iron will by preventing you (or a target creature) from being charmed, frightened, or possessed by aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. Those creatures also have disadvantage on their attacks against you. The men who betrayed you were probably human in FGO, but who knows what curveballs your DM will throw at you.

4. Druid 2: With the Circle of the Stars, you can still use your Wild Shape as an action to transform into a non-flying, non-swimming beast of CR 1/4 or less, or you can assume a Starry Form as a bonus action; both options still can only be used twice per short rest. Your starry form sheds light 10′ away brightly, and another 10′ of dim light. You also pick one of three constellations that form on your body, granting you additional benefits. The Archer lets you use your bonus action (including when you transform) to make a ranged spell attack, dealing radiant damage. The Chalice causes you to be able to heal yourself or another when you cast a healing spell. The Dragon gives you Refined Talent with Intelligence and Wisdom checks, as well as Concentration saves. While in this form, you can’t roll less than a 10 on them. So yes, you do canonically have the weird glowing lights from your scarf now.

You also make a Star Map, which comes with its own benefits. You know Guidance and Guiding Bolt while you hold the map, and you can cast the latter a number of times per day equal to your proficiency bonus without spending a spell slot. It also acts as your spellcasting focus, and can be replaced with an hour long ceremony, which can be done during a rest.

5. Fighter 2: If you were playing a single class, this would be the level you get an extra attack on. Instead, you get an Action Surge, letting you add an extra action to one of your turns once per short rest. It’s kind of like an extra attack, but less frequent, and much better when you get a regular extra attack.

6. Fighter 3: You’ve finally gone so fast and so hard that your afterimage can punch people! At least, that’s the justification I have for picking up the Echo Knight subclass. As an Echo Knight, you can Manifest Echo to create a copy of yourself near you that has an AC of 14 plus your proficiency bonus and 1 HP. It can move up to 30′ each turn, and has to stay within 30′ of you or be destroyed. As a bonus action, you can teleport, switching places with your echo. Each attack made with your attack action can come from either you or your echo, and you can make opportunity attacks with the echo as well. You can also Unleash Incarnation for an extra attack from your echo when you take the attack action. You can use this feature a number of times per long rest equal to your Constitution modifier.

So we went from two attacks per turn at level 4 to a maximum of five attack in a turn at level 6. You can’t keep that up for long, but I doubt you’ll have to at this point.

7. Monk 2: Remember that class we started as? I think it’s time we went back to that one. At second level, you get Ki Points equal to your monk level, which you can currently spend to make two attacks, dodge, disengage, or dash as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, increasing your running speed by 10 feet. I’ve been talking about how fast you are this entire build, it’s about time we made good on that.

8. Monk 3: You literally live in Guda’s shadow, so this subclass is almost a given. Shadow monks can learn Shadow Arts, letting you cast Darkness, Darkvision, Pass without Trace, and Silence without material components for 2 ki points a pop. You also learn Minor Illusion. Third level monks can also Deflect Missiles, reacting to ranged attacks to block and throw them back at enemies. Thanks to Tasha’s you can also make Ki-Fueled Attacks. If you spend a ki point as part of your action, you can still attack with your bonus action. You’re a busy man, so you’ll have to make the most out of every turn.

9. Monk 4: Finally, your first Ability Score Improvement pops up at level 9. Use this to become Resilient in Constitution saves, gaining proficiency in them and increasing your constitution by 1 point. Combined with your Dragon constellation, this means you’ll automatically pass any concentration save caused by less than 34 damage. Having an iron will comes in handy sometimes! You can also Slow Fall, reducing damage taken by falling based on your monk level.

10. Monk 5: Five levels after most players, you finally get your Extra Attack, letting you make two attacks with each attack action. Combined with your Action Surge, Unleash Incarnation, and Martial Arts, you can now attack 8 times in a single round, albeit once per short rest. To put it in context, that’s about as many times as a level 20 fighter, also using their action surge.

The fun doesn’t stop there! Fifth level monks also can make Stunning Strikes using ki. When you hit a creature, you can spend one ki point to force a Constitution saving throw with a DC of 8 plus your proficiency bonus plus your wisdom modifier or be stunned until the end of your next turn. You get advantage on all attacks against stunned creatures, so... that’s going to hurt. You can also use a Focused Aim to improve your accuracy on attacks by spending even more ki points.

11. Fighter 4: One last level of fighter gives us another ASI, which will increase our Dexterity for a higher AC and stronger punches.

12. Druid 3: Third level druids get second level spells, like Darkvision or Pass Without Trace, so you can save your ki points for stunning strikes. You can also use Enhance Ability to push yourself even further.

13. Druid 4: At this level, your Wild Shape improves, so you can now transform into beasts of CR 1/2 or lower, and you can swim as well, if you really want to. But you also get another ASI, which makes you Shadow Touched. This increases your Wisdom by one point, and you learn Invisibility and Disguise Self, both using Wisdom to cast. One of your Noble Phantasms, the Monte Cristo Mythologie, can hide your Class from others. It would probably be more literally implemented with Nystul’s Magical Aura, but Disguise Self is a much more practical spell for you.

You can cast either one of these spells once per long rest for free, or like any regular spell with the appropriate spell slot.

You also get more fire power with the Create Bonfire cantrip.

14. Druid 5: Fifth level druids get third level spells. There’s a lot of cool stuff you can do now, but we’re mostly here for Revivify. Your third Noble Phantasm, Attendre, Esperer, gives you amazing recovery abilities, even bringing people back from the verge of death. Reviving people within a minute after their death is as close as we’re going to get here.

15. Monk 6: Your movement speed increases by another 5 feet now, and thanks to Ki-Empowered Strikes, your unarmed attacks are magical as far as resistances are concerned. As a shadow monk, you can also Shadow Step with your bonus action, teleporting up to 60′ between shadows. Doing this also grants you advantage on your next attack.

16. Monk 7: Seventh level monks get Evasion, letting you take no damage when you succeed on dexterity saves, and half damage when you fail. You also gain a Stillness of Mind, letting you end charming or frightening effects on yourself as an action. Your wisdom save is pretty solid, but it never hurts to have backup.

17. Monk 8: Use this ASI to round out your Constitution and Wisdom for more health, stronger spells, and a better AC.

18. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run up walls or over water with your normal movement speed. Just make sure you hit dry land before you stop, it’s not fun otherwise.

19. Monk 10: Tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes them immune to disease and poison, and you’re kind of the same. You’re already 99% revenge; you don’t have any space for more impurities.

Also you get another 5′ of movement.

20. Monk 11: Your capstone level grants you a Cloak of Shadows, allowing you to turn invisible as an action in dim light or darker. You remain invisible until you make an attack, cast a spell, or enter bright light. It’s not quite melding into shadows, but it certainly isn’t bad.

Also, in case you were wondering, your Martial Arts die bumps up to a d8 at this level, so you’d finally be as strong as you were at level 2 if we didn’t go into fighter now.

Pros:

A regular monk would have focused more on dexterity and had more accurate attacks, but we make up for that with the sheer number of punches we can throw at once. If you want something stunned, it’s basically guaranteed at this point. This also makes you a solid burst attacker: 8d8+24 damage is nothing to sneeze at.

Also unlike a regular monk, you’re really fucking tough to kill. With an AC of 17 and enough HP to give fighters a run for their money, physical attackers will find it hard to cut you down. On top of that, you’re pretty good against the three most common spell saves (Dexterity, Wisdom, and Constitution), and your evasion makes it so spellcasters will also have their work cut out for them.

You’re absurdly good at Concentration when you need to be. With your dragon constellation up, you can instantly shrug off any concentration save that is caused by less than 40 Damage. Basically, anything that isn’t a rogue or a beholder won’t be able to shake your buffs off an ally.

Cons:

Monks eat up their ki points quickly, and you’re no exception. This also applies to your Action Surge, spell slots, Starry Form, and Unleash Incarnation uses. You’re very, very impressive in combat, but only for a choice few rounds. If you use those up, it’s going to be a slog. A slog you’ll probably survive, but a slog.

Being a star druid makes you a literal light in the darkness. While that is a beautiful metaphor, it does make using the rest of your stealthy dark-focused build effectively. You can’t shadow step when you’re a walking lightbulb, sorry.

Despite your overall defensive strength, you have a few key weaknesses, like your charisma and intelligence saves. You won’t be much help in if you’re shot to another dimension by spellcasters, or against mindflayers in general.

#Fate Grand Order #D&D 5e #fgo #The Count of Monte Cristo #Fate and Phantasms

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thepointoftheneedle · 3 years

Text

Fragment

I’m really enjoying the fragments (and I freaked myself out with that word count thing so I’m taking some time off from writing....note to self -NEVER look at the stats page.). Anyway I keep trying to write this little soulmate thing but, without me intending it, it always becomes an academic paper on the philosophy of colour perception. And I can’t imagine anybody but me is interested in that!

Below the cut anyway....(I guess this should have been for Friday but what the heck...)

His eyes fluttered open as he awakened but, feeling the warmth of the sleeping girl by his side, he closed them tightly. He wanted them to have this experience together. Nothing would ever be the same for them again. It was a special moment for a couple and he wanted it to be perfect. He had installed the app on his phone so he fumbled for it, knocking some loose papers from the nightstand and cursing gently. She mumbled and stirred so he put his hand over her eyes. “What the hell J? What’re you doing?”

“I’m opening up ‘Soul Truth.’ We can look together.”

“Oh J, no, don’t do that,” she moaned softly, beseechingly.

“Ssh, don’t worry. It’ll be great.” He kissed her gently, voice-activated the app and removed his hand from her eyes. She was looking at him, not the screen so he gently turned her head and looked down as she did. The screen was a uniform blue. His stomach lurched. It must be a glitch. “Wait, wait a second,” he muttered, clicking the app closed and reopening it. Solid blue. He looked at her and saw the sadness in her beautiful dark eyes. Sadness but not surprise.

She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek softly, “Hey, I’m sorry J. I didn’t want to disappoint you but I already knew. I just didn’t feel it last night.”

“Jeez Rox, I’m so sorry. I can do better, you just have to tell me what I did wrong. I know I can be what you want. I thought you’d…I thought I felt you...”

“I did, Jughead, of course I did. Listen. It was great. You were great. So tender and kind. It was beautiful and I really had a good time but it wasn’t…I don’t know. It wasn’t whatever soul mates have. You’ve heard Fangs talk about it. It’s next level. Transcendent. What we had was great sex, but it was just great sex. No angelic chorus. You had to feel that?” She was normally tough and streetwise but now her voice was gentle, trying not to hurt him. There was a painful lump in his throat.

“I thought it was transcendent, you were anyway. I think I’m falling in love with you Roxie.” His voice was quavering. He was ashamed of his weakness. “It has to be a mistake. It’s the app. It has to be.” Abruptly he was up and heading down the hallway before she could say another word. “Fangs, “ he yelled. “You in there?” He stood waiting, shivering, in his boxers, while disgruntled groaning emanated from the room, until eventually the door opened a crack and Fangs peered out at him.

“Jones, the building better be on fire. We didn’t get in til four. What time is it?”

“Just after eight. Look, is this broken?”

Fangs looked at the proffered screen blearily then a small smile appeared on his face. “Aww cute bunny.” Jughead snatched the screen back and swiped up. An image appeared in his visible spectrum of a cartoon bunny rabbit holding out a carrot. The legend underneath read “I wuv you.”

“Uggh, why don’t they have something with a bit of gravitas? Shit. Fuck it!” Jug turned around just as Fangs understood the situation.

“Oh my god Jughead! Did you and Rosaline finally do the do? Oh shit…you can’t see that can you? Oh Christ man, I’m so sorry.”

Jug swallowed down his disappointment, just like he had been swallowing down his anger and sorrow and guilt and sadness for most of his life and shrugged at Fangs. “No biggie. Apparently I’m destined to die alone. Whatever.” He stalked off back to his own room only to find Roxie already getting dressed. “Roz, shit, can’t we talk about this? Don’t go. Maybe it’ll happen later, perhaps it’s not always instant?”

Her voice was low and mournful when she spoke. “J I really care about you, you’re my good friend, but we’re both searching for something that we’re never going to be able to give each other. Let’s just take some time apart. Maybe in a few months we’ll be able to go back to being pals again. I’m really sorry that you’re disappointed.” With that she was gone in a whisk of magenta hair and Cabotine perfume.

He sat on his bed and stared into space. He’d been so sure. She was a dear friend, she understood him, laughing at the same things, enjoying the same movies. There was never any stress or conflict with her. It was easy. She indulged his bad moods and cajoled him out of sulks with food and silly jokes. He knew enough to leave her well alone when she was getting into one of her rages. Then gradually, as they worked together on the documentary project, he found himself wanting to touch her hair, wanting to hold her tiny body against his in a protective embrace, wanting to make her feel good with his touches. She’d seemed uncertain but he’d persevered, wooed her really. Then finally, excited and giddy after the showcase where their documentary project had taken first place she’d kissed him and whispered, “Do you want to go back to your place?” He’d been so happy as they’d crunched back to his apartment through the first snow of the winter. He’d wondered if it might happen when they finished the film. While sex tended to be the main way that a soul bond was revealed, a lot of soul mates actually bonded on completion of some other kind of shared project. It hadn’t happened then but he’d been so sure that, if they made love, it would click and the missing shade would be revealed to them. And then it hadn’t happened.

The app was pretty new. Before the advent of the smart phone, folks would have a painting or a poster in their homes. To those who were not matched it would look like an ordinary scene but once a soul bond was formed, the missing colour in the spectrum was revealed, and the soul mates could read the message in the image. It was a little like a magic eye poster. You looked at it for a moment or two and then the missing colour reconciled itself into words or an image. Originally they had some gnomic inspirational quotation. The one in the trailer he grew up in had, his mom said, had the Rolling Stone’s lyric, “You can't always get what you want but if you try sometime you find you get what you need.” Ironically FP and Gladys had been neither what the other wanted nor what they needed. Later it would turn out that FP had lied when he stood in front of that poster and told the innocent, love-struck young girl, wrapped in the sheet from his bed, that he saw it for the first time too. Actually he’d already bonded with someone else, someone who had no intention of getting tied up with a guy in a gang from the wrong side of the tracks. He must have thought it was his lucky day, a second chance for happiness, when the beautiful girl he’d been romancing excitedly admitted that she could see the colour for the first time. He’d nodded enthusiastically, said, “Yeah, me too,” and whisked her away to a world of damp trailers, drunken arguments and angry guys repossessing their truck, or the tv, or the kids’ toys. She’d stayed because she believed he was her soul mate. She thought she had no other options until, in a drunken rage, he’d revealed that it had always been a lie. She snatched up her daughter and left him. And left the boy too, unwilling to take a kid who looked so much like the man she had been fool enough to trust and who had ruined her life with his lies.

The fact that scumbags with no moral scruples lied about this shit had led to the development of checking apps like Soul Truth, “the truth, the soul truth and nothing but the truth” according to the tag line. You both looked at the screen and noted down what you saw, then swiped up and the image was revealed in ordinary unbonded colours. It made it harder for predators and perverts to take advantage of young innocents while their good sense was overwhelmed by romantic dreams. It also revealed that about ten percent of bonds were unreciprocated like Jughead’s parents, one of the couple bonded and the other didn’t. Those couples had to decide if they would make that work, aware that one was more invested than the other, or if it was better to simply part, the bonded still feeling that desperate pull to their mate even decades later. Jug guessed he should be relieved that he hadn’t seen the colour that morning since, clearly, Roz was just not that into him.

He’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the rug like that for thirty minutes when Fangs tapped softly on the door. “Not now,” he snapped but Fangs ignored him and pushed open the door.

“Ok Jug. I know you’re upset but it just means you haven’t found her yet. She’s still out there and if you go into one of your epic sulks you’ve got less chance of meeting her. What classes have you got today?”

“Nothing I can’t cancel. Everyone’s cramming for Finals. I was supposed to meet the princess to go over the final layout for the literary magazine. She can do it on her own. She’ll like that better anyway.”

Now Kevin joined his boyfriend in the room, both of them making him feel self indulgent and guilty with their solicitousness. “You shouldn’t shut yourself away and mope, Jughead. Go and edit like a champ and then come by the theatre for us and we’ll go for burgers. We’re striking the set but we can take a break. Our treat. What do you say?”

Jughead pondered for a moment. Nothing was going to change if he sat here, the princess would be unbearable if he blew her off, and burgers on someone else’s tab were his favourite kind of burgers, so he grudgingly allowed himself to be persuaded.

An hour later he was in the midst of a heated argument with the princess about his perfectly legitimate decision to kill a terrible poem about the fall which she, inexplicably, had marked for an already overcrowded page four. “You can’t just take things out without consultation Forsythe. We’re an editorial committee, we make decisions together. It’s supposed to be a collaboration.”

“What, you want to keep this pile of third grade horseshit do you? And you’re just calling me that to make me mad. Don’t think I don’t know.”

“I didn’t say that. It’s terrible. It obviously has to go. But you can’t just do it unilaterally. And you can’t call me Princess and not expect me to retaliate. You know my name.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Princess... sorry, my humblest apologies, for fuck’s sake Betty. What the hell are we arguing about if we both think it’s bad and needs to go? And why is it even in here in the first place?”

“It’s in there because we were waiting on your egregiously late piece of sub Lovecraftian geek porn. I was filling space. Since you finally got your ass in gear we don’t need it anymore. So spike it.” She had this way of making him feel like he lost, even when he won an argument. It was infuriating.

They worked on pagination for another couple of hours with surprisingly little conflict, and then he wrote kickers for a few of the longer submissions, hoping to tempt the reader to give a story a chance. She made sure the submissions were correctly attributed and that the running heads and page numbers and folios were in place. Finally it seemed that they were done. He clicked back to the front page, checked the position of the artwork and the masthead and looked over at her with a questioning expression to see if she was satisfied. She nodded her approval and, at last, under the words “Joint Editors”, he typed "Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones.” As he clicked ‘save’ something shifted in his field of vision. He was alarmed, pushing back from the desk and looking around, meeting her startled eyes. Her green eyes, which weren’t green anymore. He couldn’t describe what colour they were, there were no words.

“What just happened?” she whispered, obviously badly frightened.

“Does…does anything look different to you?” he replied, hesitantly, reaching for his phone.

“Yes, everything. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. Look at this.” He pulled up the app. On the screen he could see, without difficulty, a cartoon cat, Pusheen maybe, its paws deep in some dough. The caption read “I knead you.” As he read the words in his head, she said them aloud. “Fuuuuck,” he murmured. “I think we’re soulmates, Princess.”

#fragment #bughead fan fiction #bughead fan fic #colour perception is way interesting #pink is nearly always the last colour word in a language

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Fill Me In

Hey guys☺️! Just wanted to say this idea was inspired by the song “Fill Me In” by Craig David, which is one of my faves and I would definitely recommend if you guys want to look it up

Pairing: Colin SheaxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff!💕

Warm, soft lips peppering the back of your neck with gentle kisses, you giggle to yourself as you begin to stir under your covers lazily draped over you and your boyfriend’s bodies. Twisting your body around, you’re met with familiar calming blue eyes that now looked the lightest shade of green from the bit of sunlight peaking through the sheer curtains and hitting his face just right.

“Morning beautiful. Sleep well?,” he lazily smiles with groggy, morning voice still intact making your stomach flutter.

“Mhm,” you nod as he kisses your lips, already leaving you breathless and hoping you can stay like this all day.

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Honestly, nothing besides getting breakfast and eventually lunch and dinner.”

“Oh good, which means we have all the time we want for this.” Leaning down to your neck, you feel lips making their way from your collarbone back up to your jaw leaving more sweet kisses and destined hickeys. Giggling even more from the sensation on your most ticklish spot, your hands make their way to the back of his neck and run through his short, dark brown hair while he holds you close making it impossible to escape.

Loudly vibrating the wood of the nightstand, your phone interrupts your giggle fit, however Colin could care less as he continued his antics.

“Babe cmon let me get the phone really quick.”

With a light huff, he groans into your neck taking a break from his love bites to let you lean over to your waiting phone.

“Hey mom.”

“Hey sweetie! From the sound of your voice I can tell you’re still in bed,” she chuckles.

“Yea I had a late night getting some things done for work.”

“As well as other things,” Colin quietly adds making you smack his chest.

“That’s my girl! Get that work done sweetie,” your dad shouts, smile being felt over the phone and making you laugh.

“Thanks dad, I’m trying.”

“Well hopefully you’ve gotten enough rest because we’re 15 minutes away.”

“Oh from Boston?”

“No, from the apartment!” Quickly sitting up and accidentally scaring Colin, you feel your heart race and stomach grow queasy. “We wanted to surprise you since we haven’t seen you in a while and I even brought all your favorites to cook for you.”

“Aww thanks mom, you guys really didn’t have to do that though.”

“We know but we wanted to, now go ahead and get dressed we’ll be there soon. Bye!”

“Bye,” you reply quickly hanging up your phone and clumsily leaping from the bed with the grey comforter wrapped around your body leaving your boyfriend confused as he sits up covering himself with the thin sheet left.

“So I’m guessing we’re not staying in bed all day?”

“No. My parents decided to pay me a surprise visit and will be here any minute so I have to get ready,” you answer rummaging through your closet like a tornado through a small town trying to pick something out.

“Oh ok, where are we going? I know this great place downtown that they’ll love,” he smiles picking his clothes from the floor and beginning to put them back on. Pausing as you finish securing your ankle length, slit skirt to your hips, that queasy feeling comes back in full force along with guilt from what you were about to say.

“Um actually they’re coming here since my mom’s gonna cook, but uh they’re expecting only the three of us to be there...,” you explain still facing the closet not wanting to see his reaction. Shaking his head, the bed squeaks from him sitting down looking at the carpet beneath his feet.

“You still haven’t told them about us.”

“Babe I’m sorry-,”

“We’ve been together almost a year Y/N. I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you being afraid to tell them or not wanting to because you’re ashamed.”

“What? No of course not!” Walking over to the bed, you crawl across the mattress to wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss his cheek from behind.

“I want to tell them it’s just I know how they get; especially my dad. That’s why I haven’t even mentioned me quitting my job.”

“Y/N you’re a grown adult, I get not wanting to potentially upset or disappoint them but you also have to live your life.”

“I know, and I promise I’ll stop being afraid...one day...eventually,” you reply making him chuckle. “Now I say this with all the love in my heart, but put on your clothes so you can get out please?”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughs before turning to peck your lips.

Following you down the wooden stairs of your loft apartment, he gives you one last kiss goodbye before opening your front door only to come face to face with your parents equally as surprised.

“Hey sweetie! Who is this?,” your mom smiles holding a couple bags of groceries.

“This is um-,”

“Colin. Colin Shea, nice to meet you Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Ohh this is Colin! Y/N’s mentioned hanging out with you a couple times, it’s nice to meet you as well. And please call me Diane.”

“Funny he’s never been mentioned to me,” your dad, Simon, speaks seemingly analyzing Colin.

“Yes he has, remember a while back she was going to listen to a band and she said her friend Colin would be there?”

“Oh right uh nice to meet you,” Simon half smiles making his way between the two of you to place a kiss on your forehead before setting the bags down in the kitchen.

“If you don’t have any plans Colin, you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Yea um about that-,”

“I’d love to!,” he smiles taking the bags from her as she walks in. “I can help out with cooking too if you want.”

“You’re so sweet, but that’s ok. Y/N and I have it, you just relax with Simon.”

“That’s Mr. Y/L/N,” he adds removing the various ingredients from the plastic bags.

Watching as your mom joins your father to start getting things prepared, you hold onto Colin’s arm halting him from the step he was about to take.

“What are you doing?,” you ask in a hushed tone not to be heard by your parents.

“Umm staying for dinner?”

“Colin I’m serious let me tell them when I’m ready. Do not try to ‘accidentally’ have it slip.”

“I know and I promise I won’t say anything. I’ll continue this night as your very close friend who has seen the oddly shaped birthmark at the top of your left buttcheek.”

“Colin!”

“Calm down you have nothing to worry about,” he winks moving to join your parents in the kitchen.

“This is definitely not how I imagined today going,” you thought as you took a deep breath and plastered the best smile you could muster on your face as if on the inside you weren’t screaming to the top of you lungs.

———

“And that was the day I learned that cats really don’t like water and officially became a dog person,” Colin finishes making you and your parents laugh. Taking a bite of the remaining dinner on your plate you were pleasantly surprised, and grateful, at how smoothly everything was going.

While you and your mom cooked, the men talked football on the couch and eventually sounded as if they had known each other longer than a couple hours from their back and forth of which team was better.

Colin being a Boston boy of course siding with the Patriots, while your dad adamantly argued the Falcons like the stan he is.

From football the conversation moved to other topics making you smile to yourself after every glance their way.

Seeing them get along so well, even over dinner, you were just hoping this was a good sign for things to come. Heck, you were so giddy you felt like telling your parents everything right then and there feeling as if nothing could damper the mood.

“So were you guys gonna tell us you’re seeing each other this trip or during the holidays when you also say you’ve eloped and I’m gonna be a grandpa?,” your dad asks sitting back in his chair with arms folded over his chest.

Andddd spoke too soon.

“W-What are you talking about? We’re just friends dad,” you nervously laugh looking at Colin doing the same as he drinks the water from his glass.

“So explain why you’re wearing his necklace then? And before you object, I know in fact it’s his because when he was showing me stats during our football debate I saw the picture on the screen was him and I’m guessing his friends and that same pendant was around his neck. So either you’re that close of friends that you having matching necklaces or something else is going on.”

Still drinking from his glass to avoid having to talk, you slightly shift in your seat unable to find any words to say.

“Or if that’s not enough for you, when we got up to come eat I could smell your perfume on his shirt,” he calmly explains leaning forward to take a bite of his mixed vegetables. “So tell us again how you’re ‘just friends’.”

“Dad I can explain-,”

“I don’t know who I’m more mad at, you my own daughter hiding stuff or you not being man enough to come tell me to my face, or even call, to say you’re seeing my daughter,” he replies directing his attention to a slightly offended Colin.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s me you should be the most upset at. Colin wanted to meet and talk to you guys but I told him no.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re overbearing and judgmental,” you blurt out before your brain could think of a nicer way to try to phrase it. Hand over his chest, he lightly gasps at your allegation while your mom avoids his eyes.

“I am not! But if I was it’s because I’m looking out for you.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’m a grown woman. At some point you’ve got to let me live my life and with the decisions I make whether you think they’re good or not.”

Sighing as his arms fold on the table, he looks over at your mom shaking his head while she busies herself folding the napkin in front of her.

“So you’re just gonna let our daughter talk to me like that?”

“You already know I’ve been telling you about easing up but nooo. Just like you’re daughter, you’re too stubborn.”

“Now that you mention it, she is really stubborn,” Colin adds.

“If you think she’s bad now you should’ve seen her as a child. Lord the tantrums,” your mom laughs along with Colin as if the prior events had never happened and they were still in the middle of a pleasant conversation.

“Okay I’m pretty sure we were talking about dad and not me.”

“Alright I may be a bit stubborn, but that still doesn’t make it right you sneaking around.”

“Simon please, you act like we never did the same thing,” she retorts making your dads eyes quickly fart in her direction trying to silence here while Colin wildly laughed as he leans his head back.

“I gotta have dinner with you guys more often.”

“You’re whole freshman year you’d beg me to come visit and send me bus tickets fully knowing my parents did not want me to be in your dorm.”

All eyes on him, your father sighs running a hand over his face looking defeated and embarrassed.

“Okay you caught me, I did the same things since I too wanted to live my life and do what I wanted. It’s actually funny because I remember telling myself whenever I had kids I’d never be like my parents, all trying to figure out your business and constantly breathing down your neck. But when I first held you and wanted to keep you untouched and protected, I realized that’s all our parents wanted from us too and slipped down that path,” he chuckles to himself shaking his head.

“I never wanted you to feel like you couldn’t come talk to me with any and everything on your mind and I’m sorry I have for all these years. It’s gonna take some time, but I promise to do better bun.” Giggle breaking through your hard expression at the use of your childhood nickname, you lean forward grabbing his hand with a small smile.

“I appreciate that dad.”

Softly squeezing your knee under the table, you turn to Colin tilting his head in your parents direction with a reassuring smile. Knowing what he was referring to, you take a breath mentally preparing yourself.

“And as part of me being more open, I think it’s a good time to tell you that I quit my job.” Blankly looking at you, your parents remain quiet as if they might not have caught what you just said.

“Did...did you just say you quit your job? The job that pays for this apartment as well as other things that aren’t free?!,” your dad asks.

“Yes but I have a new one though! I’m a writer for a local magazine here, and yea it’s a bit of a pay cut but I’m still gonna be fine and it’s something I really love.”

“I thought you loved what you did before?”

“It was nice, but it could never replace writing for me.”

“As long as you’re happy and know what you’re doing, then we support you a hundred percent. Right hunny?,” your mom smiles looking towards your father and nudging his arm.

“Right...if you’re happy, we’re happy.”

“Plus with the more flexible schedule, I’ll have more time to spend home with the baby.”

“BABY?!?!!,” your parents both shout while Colin chokes beside you.

“Baby?! When did that happen?!,” he asks looking at you with red tinted ears and heightened breathing visible through his shirt.

“Oh I’m sure you know when it happened!,” Simon glares in his direction quickly rising from his chair and making Colin hide behind you.

“GUYS! Guys relax I’m kidding! I’m not pregnant it was just a joke! I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“Too soon bun,” your dad replies clutching his chest as your mom and Colin both breathe a sigh of relief while you laugh.

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hunnybby · 4 years

Text

title: tally marks

pairing: yaku morisuke x fem reader

genre: general/fluff

word count: 3,200+

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: happy late bday yaku! written for the HaikyuuCreations MPE August Event. prompt below:

2. International Hangover Day — August 8th is International Hangover Day, just a day after International Beer Day. The day previously was such a blast, though anyone can hardly remember it, but now your characters are suffering the consequences.

Time: August 7 on Friday, 20:17 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 0, Beer- 0

“Just go inside, Yaku,” you plead, pushing your co-worker towards the door of the bar.

The bouncer eyes you both as you take Yaku’s wallet from his pants pocket, sliding out his ID and placing both yours and his in the palms of the man acting as a barrier between you and a few drinks and some dancing. With a nod, he hands the ID’s back, and moves a bit so that you could squeeze by, a passing “Happy birthday” coming from him. Yaku ignores it, thinking to himself that his birthday is the next day so he shouldn’t have to say thank you.

He hates his birthday. But every year since the year you met him, you’ve insisted on celebrating his birthday. And every year since the year you met him, he’s agreed (even if it was after hours of you whining that birthday’s only come once a year and you’ll only be this age once!).

But when you make your way towards the counter, and he hears you order two shots of vodka and a pineapple juice chaser for you to share, his eyes widen and he shakes his head abruptly. “Absolutely not,” he tells you, backing up slowly before bumping into a man dancing his butt off. “No shots. We have work tomorrow.”

You don’t look at him, but he sees you raise an eyebrow. “Oh? No work tomorrow?” you question, your tone dancing between curious and mock-disbelief.

His shoulder’s drop, he feels defeated. “Yes.”

You give a polite nod to the bartender and slide Yaku his shot, setting the pineapple chaser in between you two, “Tell me, Yaku, what day of the week is it today?”

The day dawns on him, and he runs his freehand down his features, “Friday.”

You give him a toothy smile, “Friday. Just this one shot, and a few beers and we can get out of here, yeah? It’s a double celebration- International Beer Day and Yaku Morisuke’s birthday!” you suggest, raising your glass to him, waiting for the clink. And when he taps his shot glass to yours, you cheer and the night finally begins.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 11:27 AM Location: Your living room floor

Yaku jolts up from the sound of a toilet flushing, and he regrets this action immediately. He has a headache- the annoying kind. The one that he knows he will linger throughout most of the day. He has a funny feeling in his stomach- nausea. His entire body aches.

He’s thankful that the room is still dark, thankful that he decided to buy those blackout shades to keep the daylight out- wait.

He doesn’t have blackout sheets. And if his memories serve him right, he doesn’t remember getting an extra firm mattress.

“Hey, birthday boy,” you drone with a hoarse voice. He can tell that whatever he’s feeling, you’re feeling too. Your footsteps sound slow and methodical- you probably don’t have any contacts or glasses on. “Sorry my floors not too comfortable, but you wouldn’t let me take you to bed,” you say, handing him a glass of water.

He doesn’t have the energy to flush, but your words are embarrassing him. “Don’t say things like that.” He takes the water, and chugs it down immediately. And immediately, he regrets it. His stomach is telling him to drink things slower. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

You sit on your couch and tuck your legs under you. You look down at Yaku, who has already positioned himself back comfortably on your floor. “Do you remember what happened last night?” you question him, a sly smile gracing your lips. “Or do you want me to tell you?”

Yaku makes a face, and looks up at the ceiling fan. What did he do last night? He doesn’t remember much- the last thing he really remembers is you challenging him, saying that you could match whatever he drinks.

Time: August 7 on Friday, 20:43 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 2

“It’s a marathon not a race, idiot,” Yaku scolds you, speech not yet slurred. But that red fanning his face is a dead giveaway that he’s about to have some fun real soon. “Besides, I’m bigger than you. I’d drink you under the table.”

You laugh and can’t help but agree with him, “I guess you’re right. But you aren’t that much bigger than me. I bet I could match you if I tried.”

The strawberry blond (in your head, you’re thinking ‘the cutest strawberry blond’) takes another swig of his beer of choice. “Don’t,” he sets his beer down. “I don’t wanna carry you out of here.”

He misses the way that your eyes travel to his beer. The smile on your face grows a bit wider, “How about we just drink like normal people do then? To you, Yaku!”

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 11:36 AM Location: Your living room floor

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” you admit, “but I wish you did!”

Yaku groans, and the small action is still enough to exacerbate the banging he’s feeling on his head. “So, we had a few beers- that’s it right? That doesn’t explain why I can’t remember anything.”

“I had a few beers. You had a few more than I did.” You gesture towards Yaku’s arm, and he has to bring his arm up to his face because he can’t bear to move his head right now.

“It was pretty impressive- the way you just put it all away so fast.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 21:01 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 3

You watch Yaku finish his beer, chugging it down and taking his lips away with a satisfying ‘ah!’

Your eyes light up, and you take a sharpie out of your purse, “I have an idea.” Before Yaku can ask, you’re grabbing his arm and rolling up his sleeves, “Let’s see how much you can drink.” He feels the tingle of contact when you glide the sharpie on his skin, drawing four tick marks.

He’s at the stage of tipsy where he doesn’t mind that you’re in his personal bubble. “That’s a stupid idea,” he fights, but he doesn’t pull away. “You’ll forget to mark it. Probably be too busy dancing.”

“Not if you agree to dance with me,” you wink at him.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 12:52 PM Location: Your kitchen

“Do you take your coffee with anything? Cream, sugar, or whatever?” you ask, shuffling through your pantry and fridge while the coffee brews. It probably has another minute or two before it’s ready.

The good thing is, Yaku has finally dragged himself up and to your kitchen. The brightness in your kitchen, however, is not doing him any favors. If anything, it makes the banging in his head louder, harder. He thinks that maybe sugar will make him feel sicker. “I’ll take it black.”

“Suit yourself, then.” You sneak some sugar and milk into your coffee cup before pouring the coffee in.

You settle the coffee in front of him, and he gladly takes it. The smell alone helps the drums diminuendo slightly. “That doesn’t sound bad, but I still can’t remember. Are these tally marks even accurate?”

You roll your eyes. “I may not work in the finance department, but I know how to count.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:14 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 5

“Stop being so stiff!” you cackle, hunching over slightly to hold your sides. Everyone knows Yaku isn’t the best dancer, but you’ve never seen it in real time. “It looks like you’re doing the robot.”

You think he’s still okay but the droopiness of his eyelids and the slur in his speech tells you otherwise. “I don’t dance, Y/N,” he says again for what feels like the 30th time tonight.

He puts his hands on your hips in an attempt to steady you. “Let’s go sit back down, I feel goofy,” he replies into your ear. If it weren’t for the loud music and the way he breath smells like beer, you would have swoon. But your skin still feels hot under his touch. The bodies around you aren’t helping, either.

You think you want to run your hands through his hair, but instead your hands find his tie and you loosen it up for him. You hesitate for a split second before deciding to also unbutton the first button of his shirt. Your hands hover over the second button, but you push that option from your mind. He needs to relax, but you don’t think he’d be comfortable with an undone shirt.

“Just hang onto me,” you instruct next, bringing his hands slightly higher so they rest right above your hips. “And move!”

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 12:57 PM Location: Your kitchen

Of course, you leave out the part where his hands are on you. You can tell him that later, when he isn’t feeling like dying. But you make a theatrical reenactment to show his moves.

His eyes mimic saucers. “You got me to the dance floor?” He leans back on the chair, and uses one hand to cover his eyes. “Why? How?”

You shrug, hiding your coy smile behind your cup as you take another sip of coffee. “You seemed to enjoy it though.”

He’s shaking his head. “I rarely enjoy dancing.” He leans forward again, taking another gulp of coffee.

The caffeine seems to be helping, and he’s learned his lesson from the water that he shouldn’t be inhaling his drinks. It won’t do him any good. But, he feels less nauseous the more he drinks, and he’s grateful that he’s in your apartment and not in his. He knows he would have spent a little longer laying around moping.

“You really just danced,” you tap on your chin, thinking about the night and his actions, “and you were having a good time!” As an afterthought, you add, “We should’ve invited our coworkers.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:30 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 5.5

Yakus’ tie is completely gone now, lost in the depths of your purse. The grip around your upper waist tightens just a bit, bringing you closer to him. You look up at him expectantly. And you think that maybe you’re too easy to read when you’ve also had a few drinks, because even inebriated Yaku can tell you’re thinking about something.

He looks around briefly, then settles his eyes on you once again. “People keep bumping into us. It’s better if we stay close,” and the Cheshire-like smile you sported when you took your first shot is now making an appearance on Yaku’s lips. “Is this okay?”

You nod dumbly, swallowing hard and clinging onto him even harder. The atmosphere takes another shift when you find yourself laughing again as he swings you both around in a clumsy stilled-tango, “Why’re you still so awkward?! Move your feet!”

He lets go of you then, then starts exaggerating his movements. “Like this?” He’s flailing his arms and flapping his feet. He whacks a guy behind him, but he’s probably as lost as Yaku and doesn’t react negatively in the slightest.

You grab his hands, holding them to his sides and dragging him away from the dance floor, “That was perfect! I have another idea now.”

He lets himself be led by you, freeing himself from your grasp to down the rest of his beer.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 13:16 PM Location: Your kitchen

“You kinda looked like a chicken,” you point out, grabbing the empty cups and setting them in your sink, running the water to begin washing them right away. “It was cute.” Then, after a second to think about it, “It was like watching a toddler learn how to move their limbs for the first time.”

He pouts. This does nothing to help his case. Then, looks at his arm again. “So why does my arm have 8 marks?”

You rinse the dish soap off the last cup you are washing and roll your eyes in what you think is a playful manner. “Because we took one more shot. Duh.”

He raises an eyebrow, trying so hard to remember last night. “We did?”

The sound of dishes clicking together on the drying rack fill the air as you place them carefully next to each other. You grab the nearest kitchen towel to wipe down at your counter and your sink. “But just one more.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:30 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 6

“Two birthday shots!” you shout out to the bartender, waving your arms to grab their attention. Yaku stands behind you, waving his arms in sync with you. His other hand somehow finds its way to your waist again, but you don’t mind. Your mind drifts to the thought of having his hand there forever, and you smile harder.

“Last one?” you ask, bringing your shot glass up to him as an offering.

“Last one,” he replies, bringing his glass up to yours before downing the shot in one go. It’s sweet, but Yaku still makes a face from the taste. “Remind me to never take that shot ever again,” he says, placing the glass on the table and leaving his hand there for support. “It’s too sweet.”

“You’re sweet,” you say as a way to insult him.

And when you’re stumbling out of the bar at 23:00 PM (too early, you think. But it’s been awhile since you’ve even been out), you have Yaku clinging to your arm as you squint your eyes to look out for your Lyft drive.

“You’re sweet, too, I guess,” he mumbles, more to the ground than to you. And it takes you a moment to realize that he was responding to your earlier comment.

The cool breeze of the night helped with the warmth you felt on your skin, but it’s all been for naught with his comment. Now, you feel the heat come back.

A quick glance at your phone shows you that your driver is 2 minutes away. This gives you enough time to position Yaku straight (or as straight as he could possibly stand). “You don’t know what you’re saying right now, Yaku,” you grin at him. He still isn’t looking at you.

“You’re very pretty. Sometimes I go to the payroll office to see you. I know you hide by the printers there,” he admits.

You bite your lip. “That’s sweet, but please don’t tell anyone where I hide.”

“And I really…” he trails off, the sentence mixing with the breeze you feel.

This piques your interest, so you turn to him. And he’s finally looking at you again. “Really…” he continues.

But your Lyft arrives.

And Yaku upchucks on the ground.

Luckily, it doesn’t get on you. And luckily it doesn’t get in the Lyft either. It’s better he lets it out now. You wouldn’t want to ask him for $300 on his birthday.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 13:24 PM Location: Your living room couch

Of course, you leave out where he compliments you before he blows chunks. That is also something you can tell him later on. But you don’t leave off the chunks part.

He’s groaning next to you, his left knee slightly brushing your right knee as you both sit cross-legged on the couch. “I threw up? In front of you?” He looks at his arm again, “I didn’t even have that much to drink.”

“You drank it so fast- guess you were sprinting, rather than marathon-ing,” you chuckle, repositioning and bringing your knees close to your chest. “But, you got it on the ground! I think I would’ve killed you if you threw up in the Lyft.”

And you both sit in silence for a bit, basking in it. Yaku especially, since his headache is finally going away completely. Something about your apartment is helping him through this hangover. He thinks that maybe it’s because of your blinds. He really needs to get some. Maybe he’ll ask you where you got yours later.

“So, what do you wanna do for your birthday?” you ask. Somewhere in the quiet, you’ve shifted your body, resting your back on the armrest of your couch with your feet at his thigh, pushing slightly to catch his attention. “We can get some brunch? Mimosas?” you joke, lips curling upwards when Yaku makes a disgusted face.

He can’t even think of alcohol right now. He might drink too fast again. “Absolutely not. We celebrated last night, didn’t we?”

“Stay then,” you offer sheepishly, “I’ll order food and we can watch a movie.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:42 PM Location: The Lyft, on your way to your apartment Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 6

Yaku fights, not wanting to crash at anyone else’s place. “I wanna go home. I want my bed,” he slurs, clinging to the passenger door and clicking the window button up and down. He doesn’t know if he wants cool, fresh air or warm, car air. Maybe he should ask you to ask the driver to turn on the AC.

“You can go home tomorrow. Crash at my place,” you tell him again for the 3rd time. “I live closer anyway. You don’t want to do a sleepover with me?”

He snorts, “Are we in middle school?”

You look out your window to keep yourself from smiling to hard at him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this drunk; you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him drink so fast.

“It’ll be fun,” the car stops in front of your apartment building, “come on. You can take my bed.” You tug at Yaku’s arm and let him sling it over you.

“Will you be there, too?”

As appealing as that sounds, you shake your head. “I can take the couch.”

He visibly pouts, jutting his lips out to exaggerate his disappointment.

It’s a struggle to get the key into the door, but when you finally do, Yaku makes his way straight to your couch. He doesn’t land perfectly, because you see him slowly roll off to the ground. You have to stifle a laugh when he starts snoring immediately.

You stare at him a bit, deciding if you should wake him up, drag his limp body to the comfort of your bed, or just leave him there on your floor. Ultimately, it’s better to not touch someone who’s knocked out within seconds.

You open your mouth to say something, but shut it after. There’s no way he’d be able to hear you saying thank you. You’ll wait until the morning to bother him again.

tagging: @kingkags

#haikyuucreations #haikyuucreations 0820 #yaku morisuke #yaku x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #my fic #happy bday yaku!!!

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euaxel · 3 years

Text

heyyy, eonia. i’m reid, i’m twenty-three, still can’t read, and all i know about pjo is that it fucking rocks and the protag has the same learning disabilities that i do! also, i picked hypnos for this punk mainly to be mean to him and because in the hades game hypnos bullies me every time i die and i’m kiiiinda into it. hmu on discord one on one for the best plotting experience, but i’ll be around plenty to bug y’all in the gc too. you can read about bastard boy number one right here and under the cut we’ll get down to business.

⟨ ELLIOT FLETCHER. TRANS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AXEL EVERETT is actually a descendent of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old VIDEO GAME DEVELOPMENT & COMBAT TACTICS MAJOR from BROOKLYN, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite WITTY & SELF-DEPRICATING.

be advised, axel’s a pretty heavy character. i’m gonna keep it brief for the bio & need-to-knows, tag around the parts with bold applicable triggers so you can skip around as needed, and tag this post accordingly, but just let me know if i miss anything and i’ll fix it & be safe reading. godspeed and i apologize in advance for bringing you all my personal punching bag as my first muse.

the main triggers that are gonna come up are: parental abuse, alcoholism * major, mentions of bullying, drowning * major, religious trauma, and drug abuse with some harder drugs ( particularly, weed, pills and cocaine / nothing with needles. )

general stats.

— full name , axel harley everett. — nicknames/alias , axe, ax, wolverine jr, tyler durden jr, trouble, Who? - every professor he’s ever had. — house, hypnos and mad about it. — age, 22, as of today. also mad about it. — gender, trans male. — pronouns, he/him. — sexual orientation, bisexual with a somewhat heavy masc lean. — d.o.b, january 1st, 1999. ( generally unknown to anyone but maybe siblings, he will probably lie and say Nobody Knows... I Just Am unless he really fucks with you. ) — hometown,

phys.

— height, 5′0ft even. furious about it. — eyes, brown. — hair, brown. — face claim, elliot fletcher.

misc.

— zodiac, capricorn. — alignment, chaotic good. — character inspo, lip gallagher, steve rogers ( young ), ellie from tlou1, logan howlett, stiles stilinski ( if anyone says shit i will scream ), probably someone from euphoria but i’m too scared to watch that, peter parker ( andrew garfield ), shinsou hitoshi, finn mertens, marceline the vampire queen, dipper pines, this is all over the place but it’s there. — most played spotify songs, passion for publication by anarbor, sober haha jk unless by hospital bracelet, nobody by mitski, class of 2013 by mitski, king princess’ cover of monster from adventure time, way too much phoebe bridgers, in love or whatever by future teens, and the entire front bottoms discography but especially in sickness & in flames with the hard way & bus beat well at the top of his loop. — aesthetics, bloody knuckles, left open and tipped over prescription bottles, walking on the carpet with socks to get that tingly feeling, skateboarding inside, dozing off at the bar, tangled legs in messy sheets, ten pillows on a twin sized mattress, laying down in the shower, brian sella’s cracky singing voice.

bio.

— axel was born and raised in brooklyn, new york, and he was claimed at thirteen, on his thirteenth birthday, by hypnos. — the day he was claimed, axel ceased contact with his human mother and his step-dad, and he attended a camp for half-bloods that wasn’t far from home. he spent his adolescence there year round for safety from monsters at home and abroad, then moved on to eonia. — ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw begin ) i don’t want to be too graphic here so i’m going to plainly say that axel’s mother was a very, very bad person, and the man she married was absent at his best, physically abusive at worst. axel’s powers ( hypnokinesis, namely ) were potent and difficult to control at a young age, and as a deeply religious catholic woman, this scared his mother and influenced most of the animosity in their relationship. she was convinced that the defensive visions he created and his ability to put her to sleep ( an attempt to help her, on his end; insomnia plagued her and later, it would him, too ) were of demonic origin, and tried to drown him more than once; cleansing, she claimed. the worst instance was the day he was claimed, actually — new years day, 2012; his life was saved by hypnos, and that was the last he saw of her. ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw end. ) — that said, he’s a little ( very ) hydrophobic. poseidon kids do NOT fucking interact ( i’m kidding. kind of. he Will avoid a little though ) — anyway! moving on. all of this aside, axel did his best to put his past behind him, and he was actually super stoked to learn that his powers came from somewhere good and that there was places out there for kids like him; to learn he wasn’t any kind of monster. ( still working on believing that, though.. marcelines monster.mp3 right here ) — he’s less stoked when he starts having trouble falling asleep, and really, it feels like a more cruel twist than any other fate has thrown at him ( his upbringing was chock full of mean twists, so that’s saying something ); and really, it’s more like insomnia just full on kicks in, but he can put other people to sleep. great, right? whatever, though — combat classes are kickass and he’s surrounded by babes that think he’s hilarious so things could be totally, way worse. — ( bullying tw (brief) ) for the most part, axel was pretty well liked among his peers. he was bullied as a young kid (pre-claim), but he bit back and he bit back hard, and sure, some of that followed him into his teen years but he’s more confident by then; less fun to poke at, and absolutely unhinged when provoked, so people learn better of it. the only real lasting effect was one instant that hit him a little too deep in the inferiority, when he was seventeen — he fell in love with a girl, told her that, and found himself at the end of a very mean spirited prank. he shook it off like he did anything else, or at least — he told himself he did, even if the hurt hit him somewhere a little too deep rooted ( ie. being god’s most unlovable son would naturally land him here, right? ) love’s kinda stupid anyways, so what the hell, right? (bullying tw end.)

— ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw begin ) this is already obscenely long so i’m just going to keep it to the point here and say he began drinking when he was sneaking booze in to camp at fifteen, and it just never stopped there. he’s also a massive stoner, which is all well, harmless and good for the most part; he’s always grinning, half-lidded, and has a room full of smoke at any given time. it’s the pills that do him in, and he did them at first just so he could get some shut eye, and... well. after that, because he’s dependent on them. but he keeps this part under wraps for the most part; it doesn’t have to be anyone’s problem but his, and it’s not a problem until it is one. partying’s fun, so is coke; so is taking a few too many xan’s, mdma. ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw end )

FUN FACTS!!!

— i swear he is not as doom and gloom as he sounds from the bio, and yeah, writing that made me so sad i feel like we absolutely must hone in on the fun and cute things about him!?! — he loves dnd. he can talk about it for HOURS and if you let him, he absolutely will. — adventure time makes him cry. he’s a baby don’t let him fool you. — very into cryptids, aliens, horror stories, conspiracy theories, in love with ryan from watcher, wanna be shane medej. — he loves to draw! the one thing he loves about his power is what it’s done for his imagination, and sure, he mostly draws horror things, but it’s why he went into video game development. he wants to be a concept artist. — his double major is in combat tactics because he loves fighting. he thinks it’s so fun. he’s a little nuts, actually — i mean, get hit in the face and come up grinning. all he’s ever wanted is to run a fight club and be the shortest, baddest little bitch on the planet. — he tends to nod off in weird places because he doesn’t sleep enough at night, which is sad, but; he can seriously fall asleep anywhere. standing up, in a tree, you name it. — he’s a hobby musician! he loves singing and playing guitar. — he’s a huge flirt. — loves to scare people. he’s harmless, though. like, honestly. he might make you think you’re seeing a walking toadstool but he’ll probably apologize later. — he’s very much a singing in the shower type? — clothes thief. friends and significant others beware. — actually, just kind of a thief? but of weird, little things. like, just the left shoe. puts them in a little corner in his room that he has set up like an exhibit. “things you thought you lost lol” is written on the whiteboard on the wall above it. he likes collecting rocks too. he’s a little freak!! — he’s better at the memory retrieval part of his power than the rest. naturally, as this mostly applies for other people.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. im literally so tired of hearing myself talk...

friends/squad. self explanatory!!! he’s friendly, a class clown, and a loyal friend through and through; he’s also adaptable, and his demeanor is very relaxed and inviting. he’s probably gonna have 2-3 people that he’s really close with, and he’d do quite literally anything for them. seriously, don’t tempt him. a best friend. so this is kind of vague but. i’d really love for him to have one person that is just a tier above the rest? they’d know things about him that are like pulling teeth to find out ( aka, anything deeper than his most recommended podcasts and loudmouth opinions on non important things ), someone who will call him on his shit, and maybe take care of his stupid little self when he gets too fucked up, because they’d be someone he trusts enough to let them. enemies? he probably gets along with most people until given a reason not to? but he is a loud mouth and if one of his friends gets into drama, he will stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and he will throw hands, so it could happen.

harmless rivalries. maybe even steamy ones. he’s a little shit and he likes banter so, so, so much? if given the opportunity and if someone rubs him a certain type of way, he’s so not above being a menace, although never super maliciously. just, you know, annoying the shit out of them on purpose, for fun. he’s also not above blowing a few kisses their way.

current hookups. self explanatory too. he’s a little harlot. HFBHVFNJ. it’s gonna be kinda hard to go beyond sex with him because he’s very deep in his own insecurity but he does catch feelings, he’s just mad about it when he does. i’m mostly gonna go off chem for that though! an ex. could be on friendly terms? but, it should be noted that he could’ve ghosted someone too; or pulled from the relationship when things got serious and he couldn’t choke out that ‘i love you’, even if he felt it. worse, if he did choke it out, but they didn’t feel the same way. siblings. hypnos kids he is gonna be so protective of all of u... family is hard for axel, i’m ngl, but he really wants one is the tragedy of it all, i guess? so he just really wants to be a good brother. he thinks hypnos is kind of a dick for making him but he tries not to fault him for his existence. fuck u dad i dont wanna be alive feels a little unfair. HDBHFDSJ. anyways he’s a good brother even if he is absolutely so reckless and terrifying in regards to himself but his siblings. his siblings he will do anything for. ALSO!!! FOUND FAMILY!!!! it would be kinda nice if he bonded with someone a little older maybe, could be outside of the hypnos house even, someone he’s kind of a bratty-little-brother type with.... or bratty older brother that takes your things and makes you laugh, y’know.

PERSONALITY. just tacking this part of the app on at the end too to highlight parts that i think are important for understanding who he is, and just so it’s all in one place!

toothy grins, half-lidded eyes, and keepin’ them laughing is what it’s all about, baby. axel walks with more confidence in his posture than he’s earned ( or claimed, for that matter ), and it’s the backbone of what gets him by. he’s a glowing example of the fake it ‘til you make it mentality, and he knows what he wants, usually how to get it, and doesn’t mind letting you know that. there’s an ever present mischievous glint in his eyes that says more about what to expect from him than he does, and that’s still not much? he likes to have fun, and there isn’t a whole lot of regard for righteousness or responsibility on his end, but hey! it’s usually only ever at his own expense, so what’s the damage? he’s an absolute clown and he knows it.

axel loves people. he does — you might not guess that with how elusive he is, but it’s true. there’s nothing he likes more than a good conversation with someone interesting, or maybe not even then; if there’s a sparkle in you, he’ll see it. ( might even draw it, not that you’d ever know. ) he’s warm, loyal, compassionate, relaxed, and understanding; and none of that is at the cost of being passive, or lacking passion.

as long as the vibes are right, he’s happy to just be; though, he’s known to have a fuse for certain provocations, and will jump readily at chance to fight in someone else’s honor. also, it’s not unlike him to spar for the sake of sparring; but that’s all in good fun, no worries.

there’s no way to sugarcoat it — axel has an inferiority complex. where that stems from is something he’s more self-aware of than he’s willing to admit, but he doesn’t have the patience or the will to dissect it; much less do anything about it, and he’s as bull-headed as they come — especially regarding anything related to the psyche. how much this impacts his demeanor and relationships with others varies on the situation, but one constant is that he’s going to retreat before things get bad; even if ‘things are getting bad’ exists only as his own paranoia-born hypothetical.

things can’t go bad if you don’t let them, and he’s content to keep it that way; even if it means being stuck in the stasis of missed opportunities. it’s when he’s retreating into himself that he can get irritable, anxious, jumpy; secretive, defensive, even. he’s personable until he isn’t, essentially.

#euintro #ik elliots like 5'7 but i've never let this kid be taller than me and i will not start now #parental abuse tw #bullying tw #drug use tw #alcoholism tw #drowning tw #religious trauma tw #jesus christ whats wrong with me #anyway who wants him #Because I Dont #anyway im not fucking proofreading it JBFGHBFJFBDJSKNMA im so sorry this is a monster in length

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vurlix · 3 years

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The Druid of Mothem

### I started working really hard on this one AI Dungeon campaign mapping out the whole world of Xaxas that the game offers and putting it all into World Anvil (an online world builder) So i can better track places and people since the AI in AI dungeon can only remember so much. The majority of this story is created by GPT-3 (if I had to make a guess I’d say ~85-90%. I also used the website Art Breeder to generate the pictures for the characters and landscapes. ###

### AI is coming a long way. I plan to continue this story since I love playing a druid in 5e. ###

### I also added the new AI Dungeon feature which allows the gaining of stats so every time I try to do an action, it rolls on stats that continue to grow. ###

### But besides that, I also rolled out a Druid Wood Elf and have a character sheet to follow

I’ll link everything after the story, other than that I hope you enjoy!! ###

###

You are Goodaquazi, a male elf druid who lives in the town of Morthem. You are new to the town though rarely actually visit it. Being a druid you're the most comfortable being outside the town in the forest with nature. The town of Morthem consists of a few large buildings and many smaller ones surrounding it. Humans and elves make up the population of this small farming town. A large deep forest surrounds the farmland as far as the eye can see. It truly is a beautiful forest.

When you're not spending time in Morthem, you can be found deep in study at a small nature temple located somewhere away from Morthem deep in the forest. This temple is where all druids or those with an interest in nature and druidism spend time in study, meditation, or prayer.

The day to day life of Morthem goes on with or without you and that's OK. The people are content and that's all that's in your heart. It's a simple life, and you're happy with that.

You are in a forest somewhere far from any civilisation. This is your home and you feel comfortable here with the animals, plants, and nature. You were taught by the master druids to harness the natural magic energy that exists in all things. You practice this skill every day for there is always more to learn.

You lie down on the ground, stretching out your arms and legs along the lush grass and closing your eyes. The sun is high overhead, its light filtered through an unblemished blue sky. A cool wind blows through the field, carrying with it the rich scents of soil and nature. The grass is damp from last night's rain, and you can sense the life force of the land, almost as if it were a living creature itself. The scents and sensations are almost overpowering after your time in the city, but feel refreshing now that your senses have been reawakened.

You slowly open your eyes. All around you, plants grow and animals live in a perfect state of harmony with the land. You vanish from their sight, though creatures with greater senses might still be able to detect your presence if they were really looking.

However, it is not upon the ground that you wish to be. You feel cramped and bored lying there, so you take a deep breath and rise up into the air, levitating several feet above the ground. You are weightless, able to drift through the air with only a thought.

You have many hidden conversations with animals as you move through the forest and they, curious about this friendly stranger. Different types of animals, each with their own unique personalities, sizes and abilities. There are fighting animals able to kill even the largest of beasts, and others that are solely for transportation or, in some cases, purely companionship.

You drift along atop the wind, smiling and laughing as you fly. This is how you move from place to place when you are outdoors. Eventually, you begin to get a splitting headache from all the sensory input and decide to head back home for the day.

You approach your cabin by nightfall. Made chiefly of wood with a thatched roof, it looks every part the fairy-tale cottage. An enormous oak tree towers over it and provides shade. You walk up to the door and unlock it with ease. Heading inside, you take off your shoes, as is custom in this land. The entire floor is covered by a thick carpet of grass which springs back up after every step you take.

Una, your girlfriend, is preparing dinner. Her long blond hair falls down to the small of her back and her sky coloured eyes pierce your very being. By her feet rests Zane, the cutest puppy you've ever seen who can someday grow up to be a fierce guard dog if given the right training.

"Hey, Una," you say.

"Uh-huh," she replies, engrossed in the cooking.

From another room, you hear a baby boy giggling. The newest member of your family, Behan, lies in his cradle. You fly through the door and hover over his crib, looking down on his innocent features. Through your son, you have discovered the true joys of fatherhood. All younglings go through an insane rebellious phase, which Behan will eventually go through too, but for now he is really sweet.

"You look tired," remarks Una, suddenly standing beside you with a bowl of strawberries in her hands.

You take one out of the bowl and eat it, relishing the sweet taste as it enters your mouth. "I had an interesting day," you reply. "Why is Zane outside?"

Una blushes. "I wanted to surprise you. Turn around."

Curious, you do as she says and spin on the spot. You hear Una squeal with delight before her arms embrace you from behind and her head rests itself upon your shoulder. "So?" she asks, a mischievous smile evident in her voice.

You turn to face Una and are faced with the image of her clad in a tight, midriff showing black dress and knee high stilettos. Your jaw drops and you stare with awe. "Wow," you utter, staring at her beauty. "You... look... amazing!"

"I thought we could go to a friends' house to eat. They're having a party, do you want to go?"

The constant sensory input has given you a monstrous hunger, and as much as you love Una, you need food. "Absolutely," you say.

The two of you fly to your friend's house. The manor lies on a hilltop which descends into a plain, which lies on the edge of a dense evergreen forest. You are faced with the grandest house you have ever seen. Dozens of little windows peer at you like wandering eyes. Hundreds of lights create the illusion that the house is glowing. The manor is at least four stories high and has a tryst swim among trees behind it. The entire setting is like something out of a fairy tale. You land beside a golden pathway that leads up to the manor. The evergreen forest towers over you on both sides and a soft, cool breeze passes through it, sending chills down your spine. You take a deep breath through your nose as you enter through the heavy wooden door.

You are faced with a giant hall, with several corridors branching off it. The walls are lined with suits of armour, which glare at you with iron eyes. Black and white tiles line the floor, and a giant chandelier made up of antlers hangs from the ceiling. You both walk past the hall and down one of the branching corridors. Tiny flickering lights dance along the corridors' walls. You peer into a room and see a grand piano and several pieces of classical music written in notes on sheets of music. You enter the room as you sense somebody there. An old man with a goatee sits in the corner of the room, playing the piano. The music is slow and rhythmic.

You remember this man. He was one of Una's former boyfriends, a pianist that travels around the country and plays for people. You are about to call out to him when Una grabs your wrist. You look at her, meeting her fiery eyes. She motions for you to follow her and the pair of you bypass the man entirely. The next corridor weaves back and forth and has the same black and white tiles as the last corridor. Finally, the corridor brings you to a set of stairs. You climb the stairs slowly, and as you do you see someone at the top. It's the host of the party, Judge Beckery.

"You came!" he says, smiling. "I can already tell this is going to be the best party ever."

"Who was that man playing?" you ask, motioning toward the room with the grand piano.

"Oh him?" says Beckery. "That's just Harvey. He's a bit of a weirdo."

You nod slowly.

"Anyway, I just got here myself," says the Judge. "I'll show you to your room."

The pair of you head up another flight of stairs and Beckery stops at the first door on the left. He opens it and ushers you inside.

"I hope you'll be comfortable in here," he says.

The room is small but comfortable. It has a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. There's also a desk in the corner. The walls are covered with a deep blue wallpaper. You set your bags down on the floor and look out the window. The courtyard and forest surround the house.

You return to the party. Those few feet between you and Una seem like an endless distance, one that neither of you are willing to cross.

As you enter the room the crowd melts away before you and everyone stares in astonishment. You stand there, surrounded by a crowd of people. A fight seems inevitable.

Suddenly the crowd parts and Una comes before you. She looks into your eyes and gives you a small smile. It's a smile that says everything will be alright. You smile back, and then feel your face flush and your heart flutter.

Before you stands Una, a tall and willowy young woman with long blond hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. Her beauty takes your breath away--more than that, her presence does, the way she stares back into your eyes timidly yet still willing to meet your gaze for as long as you like.

"I love you Una, thank you for bringing us here but I'm starving! Why don't we go into the dining room and get something to eat?"

Everyday your craft keeps you occupied and your spare time is spent with Una. As the years pass your personal life and druidic life begin to overlap one another. Your love for Una only deepens and your son Behan grows in strength and wisdom. You tell him stories of the old lands of Tuatha, and promise that when he's old enough you'll return, if only to visit.

"I saw the strangest thing today," Una says to you as you eat dinner. You are eating roasted duck at this party and Una has been watching you and Behan with a faint frown on her face.

"What's that?" you ask.

"I saw one of the peasants run over a fox and kill it." she says.

"That's terrible, why would someone be so careless about a living creature. What if that fox was me Una? Did you see who the peasant was that ran over the fox? " you respond.

"I did," she says, "It was Chris."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"No. But the man I saw was a barbarian and he's friends with that barbarian."

Knowing Una, this must have bothered her greatly. You've never been a fan of Chris, it seems that even if you are wrong about him, you still have to tell him to apologize to Una. As the sun disappears over the horizon and night falls, you head over to Chris's room.

You rap on his door and he bids you come in.

"What the hell do you want." Chris grunts angrily. You can tell he's clearly been drinking and not to mention his room smells awful. You also notice that there are various bottles filled with assorted types of Liquid.

"My wife is pretty upset with what happened at the party earlier, and I'd like to apologize if I could." You lie.

"Alright?" He says to you as he lights his pipe, the lighter producing a small blue flame.

You quickly chant a short incantation and the flame on his pipe flares up as smoke billows into his face, he has been incapacitated by the flames and he begins to scream as he desperately tries to pat them out.

You rush over and smack him in the head with your palm and he's out like a light.

You then look for Una to make sure she is alright, you find that Chris' alcohol and medications have finally kicked in and he has gotten some sleep.

You reassure Una and tell her not to worry about anything.

The next morning you both wake up and start to gather your equipment together.

You hug Una close and tell her how much you care for her.

"I told you everything was going to be fine." She says to you with a smile, "Let's go home, I miss Behan...and you need someone to do the shopping and cleaning."

Slowly the two of you head home. You start to reflect on the events that have occurred and realize that your life is finally calming down. You open the door of your home to find Zane making Behan laugh by chasing his tail. You watch your family with a smile on your face, glad that everything has worked out for you. You take a seat and call Zane over to join the family for a group hug.

“Good boy” you say to Zane as he begins to wag his tail happily. He gets up and goes over to Behan who is attempting to crawl away to no avail. Zane begins to lick Behan in the face, you watch them both laugh and occasionally look over to Una. You feel truly happy just watching them all. This is real happiness, this must be how Father felt. Time passes and it's nighttime before you know it. You tell Una that you're gonna cook dinner for tonight so she can relax and enjoy her night. With the nightly routine of cooking, cleaning and putting Behan to bed you soon find yourself heading off to bed as well.

As you both lie in bed with Una's hand wrapped around your arm you feel truly complete. There's nowhere else in the world you'd rather be, you have everything you need right here.

Your eyes start to get heavy as you fall asleep with a smile on your face. Your mind drifts from one thing to another as you find yourself entering the druidic realm of dreams. Several hours later you drift back into consciousness and remember the events that have led you here. You open your eyes and slowly sit up, the sun is already high in the sky outside and Una is nowhere to be seen. Knowing that she's probably out hunting, you get out of bed and look out the window. You take a deep breath through your nose and smell the scent of trees, nature, earth, and wild animals. You feel truly at peace in this moment.

With a smile across your face you walk over to Behan's bed and pick him up.

"Come on Behan!" you shout excitedly "Let's go play outside!"

You look outside and everything looks great. The forest, the trees, the earth, everything is perfect. This is your life now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You set Behan down on the floor and go over to your dresser to grab your clothes. Nature is perfect, yes, but there are simple things in life that make it better. And one of those things is clothes. You put on your typical outfit, nothing too fancy, just your typical wool pants and tunic. With that done, you walk outside to play with Behan in the fields.

Zane wakes up and comes to join in the fun running around in circles and making Behan crawl after his tail. Every day is a happy day when you're with those who matter to you .

As you look out across the fields to watch Una returning from hunting with freshly killed deer, you realize that those that got you through hard times are the ones that matter most.

You will continue life as it is now. There is nothing else you could desire.

You greet Una with a small smile and hold out your arms for the deer carcass.

"Good work Una." You say smiling at her as you lift up the deer.

"Thank you." Una responds looking down at Behan who crawls over to her legs.

The carcass will feed your family for the next few days. You set it down near your home and bring Una inside to rest. She's a hero today and that's all that matters. She deserves to be treated as one.

You Kiss Una on the forehead and lift her in your arms to carry her into the bedroom.

You place her near Behan, and they both fall into a gentle sleep. They look like an angel and a demon sleeping together, but there's no malice in them at all!

You grab your blade and walk over to the deer carcass. You begin to butcher the beast using your vast expertise in limb severing. First, you remove the legs, then the head and then the torso. You work fast because you don't want the meat to begin rotting. With enough salt, you could eat it in a day or so.

Your family will eat good tonight and for the next few days!

Having finished the job you walk back into the house returning to Una's bedside to watch her sleep until dusk arrives.

Throwing in some pork for extra taste, you set out to make the deer meat stew.

The meat and bone will be used to make the stew and the offal fed to Zane who is begging by your side the whole time.

A blue flame envelops your hand and you slam your hand into the oven! The rich scent of flame-broiled deer meat fills the room in an instant.

"Zane! If you eat any more of my food, you won't grow up to be big and strong like me!" You joke at your small but ferocious dog!

Finally, the food is done, and you sit down with Una and Behan to enjoy an evening meal.

Master of fire you may be, but without the love and support of your wife and son you would burn out in a flash. Tonight you are happy and look forward to an amazing life with your family.

You hold Una's hand and thank her for being the amazing woman she is. "I have a goal set for myself tomorrow Una, I'm going to learn to shape shift" you explain. Una smiles and shakes her head fondly at you. "You'll never stop learning will you?" she asks in response. You both laugh and enjoy the evening meal.

#ai #ai dungeon #gpt3 #machine learning #artificial intelligence #rpg #fantasy #fantasy art #world anvil #fantasy novel #my novel #ai novel #druid #elf #randomly generated

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emmettspeakz · 4 years

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Gotta Love DnD, Victor

Love Victor fanfic

Summary: It’s a week after Victor has come out to his family and a few friends, but they haven’t really acknowledged it one way or another. Desperate to help get his friend’s mind off of his family’s reaction (or lack of a reaction) to his coming out, Felix designs a DnD campaign that Victor, Bram, and Simon can play, with Felix as the DM. Fun and crazy stuff ensues.

Hope y’all enjoy <3

“So how do we do this? All I got are dice.” Bram asks through Felix’s computer screen, holding lime-green crystal dice up to the camera. He and Simon are sitting on the couch in the middle of their apartment, with no space between them. Victor couldn’t help but feel like they were the perfect couple, and hoped that one day Benji and him could be the same way.

It was the weekend after Victor had come out to his family and they had started acting like he hadn’t said anything at all. Victor felt like right now that was for the best, as he didn’t really wanna talk about it anymore either. Things were weird with Mia and Lake, because although she had declared her love for Felix, Lake wasn’t talking to Victor at all, in solidarity and die-hard friendship fashion for Mia. Benji had sent him sweet text messages this week like “hang in there” or “hair looks great today bud” and that would help a bit, but also Victor couldn’t shake the feelings of regret and pain away. That’s how this weekend had happened. Felix had insisted they play DnD to get his mind off things. But because Victor and Felix couldn’t afford to go back to New York, they were somehow trying to do DnD through Skype. It wasn’t working all that well, but god damn it if Felix wasn’t gonna let Victor mope around his house anymore.

“It’s not that difficult now that you guys told me what classes you wanted to be. I think you all should give your characters names though. It’s not creative if you’re just Victor and Bram and Simon.”

Simon gave Felix a look through the webcam, raising his eyebrows.

“No offense.” Felix replied, awkwardly. Felix had moved all the newspapers his mother had collected into the supply closet to make room on the coffee table for DnD, but the closet had reached capacity and Victor worried it would comically burst open like their lives were a part of a cartoon.

“Nice to meet you two by the way. You guys...are—”

While Felix was talking, the couple maintained eye contact with him as Simon rested his head on Bram’s shoulder.

“Right, okay.”

“Felix! You know they’re boyfriends!” Victor called out, sounding more like his teasing self than he has all week.

“I still can’t believe that you never told me you went to New York! The Big Apple? Times Square? You know how much I love Broadway!”

“Well you guys will just have to come visit us again sometime.” Bram suggested, putting his arm around his boyfriend affectionately.

“Alright so let’s start.” Victor said, not wanting to be reminded of the trip that made him lie to his then-girlfriend.

“Okay, so Bram you’re a paladin—” Felix began before he was cut off.

“Paladin? I’m definitely not just brawns!” Bram protested.

“You picked your character!” Victor laughed.

“I know but I think I’m a bit more of a—”

“No, no, no, no. I sent you a character sheet, you filled it out and sent it back to me and then I added the modifiers and all the technical stuff and sent it back to you, so it’s finalized!” Felix said, all his words jumbled together in a long string, sounding hyperactive as usual. “Now,” Felix continued, grabbing a D20 die from on top of his brown coffee table. “Let’s do this.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. I don’t know much about DnD, but I do know that the DM can’t play too.” Victor said, grabbing Felix’s hand tightly.

“Oh c’mon, let me play Victor! I need this! I haven’t seen Lake in—”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t remind me. Just roll dice when you’re supposed to, DM Felix.”

“Fine, fine, fine, fine,” Felix said, moving a hand through his hair. “Let’s start with this.”

He had four plastic figures, three of them representing Bram, Simon, Victor, and then one representing a figure that Felix started to describe as the Demigorgon before Victor told him to pick something else ‘cause that was “too Stranger Things”.

“Wait, wait, wait. Which character am I again?” Simon interjected before playing had even begun.

“You’re the warlock, the one with a staff, represented by the purple figure on the table.” Felix explained briskly so they could move onto actual gameplay. Simon nodded in understanding and sat back on the couch, letting Felix do his thing.

“Anyway, this big—” Felix met Victor’s gaze “—monster straight out of the movie Alien—”

Victor couldn’t help but laugh, not about Felix’s uncreativeness or lack of forethought about monsters, but the fact that he was the only straight boy in this group and he happened to somehow be the nerdiest one of all four of them.

“You mean gay out of the movie alien?” Simon asked, thinking the same thing Victor was. Victor, Bram, and Simon burst into laughter and all Felix could do was bite his lip awkwardly at the joke.

“Okay so Boris the Brave, Seamus the Strong, and Vladimir the Valiant—”

“Wait, those are our names?” Bram asked, chuckling.

“You guys didn’t pick your names so I made something up on the spot. Now stop interrupting!”

Simon and Bram put their hands up defensively, almost at the same time and Victor chuckled at that. Watching them over the call, Victor was just in awe by them. He guessed that when you were in a relationship for 2+ years, you started acting like the other person. It was weirdly sweet and Victor couldn’t get enough of it. This was what it was supposed to be like to love someone like he did. Maybe one day him and Benji would be that close, would be so love that they were in total sync. It sucked that he was jealous of them, but he was.

“So you guys are traveling through this cave and this big monster thing that looks like it’s from Alien jumps out and lunges at you. Bram, your action.”

“Uh, can I throw Simon at it?”

“Hey!”

“You can if you’d like.” Felix responds. But Bram is shaking his head.

“Can I sing to it?” Victor jokes, smiling brighter than he has in days, his cheeks burning. And when Felix glares at him he simply responds, “What? Isn’t that all that Bards can do in battle?”

“Y’know what, roll for that.”

“For what?”

“Performance! C’mon, you know this! I went over it with you every single day this week during lunch!”

Victor chuckles as Felix puts his blue die into his hand. Victor gives it a good shake before he throws it onto the table.

“10.”

Fellix then takes his own die and rolls his own number.

“I got 15, so that did not hit. The Alien is still awake, and none of its stats have been altered.”

“Nice try Victor!” Simon said encouragingly, before turning to his boyfriend. “Maybe this is a job for a paladin?”

“Okay, I’ll try. Um, I’m going to attack the Alien with my sword.”

“Okay, roll for strength, then add your modifier from your character sheet.” Felix said.

Bram ironically cracked his knuckles before taking his die and rolling, which both Victor and Simon found amusing.

“Uh, 14. Plus my strength modifier which is +2.”

“Okay, you definitely hit it. Now roll for damage given.”

Bram looked blankly at Felix.

“Just, roll the die again to see how much damage you deal on the Alien.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

Bram rolls again.

“Uh, 9. Is that with the modifier still or no?”

“Not this time, but you’ve dealt 9d sword damage to the Alien, which means you’ve been spotted and Simon’s character can’t use his stealth to get away anymore.”

“What? We could’ve snuck around it?” Bram grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air.

“It’s an open-world kind of game, man. You gotta think outside of the box.” Felix replied pointedly. Bram sighed and handed the die to Simon, who chose to roll for dexterity, to run away from the alien.

“Isn’t Bram the athlete?” Victor teases him.

“Yeah! But you’re just gonna run away from the alien and leave us to die from it?”

“No! If this works, I’m gonna go find the next village and see if there’s anyone who can help us.”

“Alright, roll for that.” Felix says.

Simon shakes the die like Bram did, but with a bit more vigor and then throws it down on his coffee table.

“Uh…it’s a nat 20!” Simon cheers, but he looks nervous.

“I’m trusting you here!” Felix reminds him. “I can’t actually see your die, but you better be honest with me!”

“It’s a one.” Bram informs his DM, looking scared at what outcome this will yield as he grabs Simon’s arm and squeezes it tightly toward his body.

“Bram!”

“Simon, they’re our friends! We can’t lie to them!”

“Fine,” Simon grumbles. “I just hope we’re not screwed now.”

“So Simon, since you got rolled a 1, you’re getting the energy to run away and then slip and fall and yell, ‘fuck!’ just as loudly as you can, so now the Alien has turned on you.”

“Oh shit!” Simon yells, almost proving Felix’s point.

It takes a little while before anyone knows what to do to stop the monster, and since it’s the afternoon and the boys haven’t eaten anything, they take a break for some pizza delivery before going back to the game.

“I’m gonna try to hit it again.” Bram says when they sit back down to it. It’s been hours since they started the game and all they’ve done is fight this one monster, but Victor doesn’t care. He hasn’t thought a bit about what going back to his house is gonna be like and frankly he doesn’t care. He’s enjoying this nerdy time with his friends and wish it could never stop.

“Roll for strength.”

Bram does.

“Ugh, 3!”

“Is that with or without the modifier?” Felix asks. Luckily it’s without.

“So 5? That does not hit. Now you’ve made the Alien all angry though.”

“Ugh, what now?”

“Victor, your turn again.” Felix tells him, handing him his blue die. “What’s your action?”

“I’m gonna see if maybe I can appeal to a nearby animal for help.” Victor says, sounding just like a bard. Felix can’t help but laugh, but it’s a sound strategy, as nothing else has worked out for them yet.

“Roll for performance.” Felix says.

Victor shakes the die and then drops it onto the table. It moves around and around like a spinning top. It’s moving so fast, but at one point it looks like it’s gonna be a nat 20 before it tips the opposite direction. Victor sighs in disappointment before he realizes it has landed on 18.

“What, no way!” Victor cries out, holding his hands up high towards the ceiling. “That’s a nat 20 right?”

“Well, it is a 20, but not a natural 20. You definitely got some animal’s attention. A wolf-bat hybrid creature comes out of its den in the cave and you ask it to help you and your friends get out of the cave. And it’s happy you asked it for help, so it starts leading you out of the cave and away from the alien. Just then—”

“What? Just then, nothing. I rolled a 20, you can’t have something happen to us now!” Victor cries out.

“It’s my game, I can do whatever I want.” Felix replies his voice light and teasing.

“There’s a sudden earthquake and huge rocks start falling down upon all of you. All of you roll for dexterity to get out of the way of the falling rocks and catch up with the wolf-bat hybrid to get to safety.”

Simon rolls, then Bram and Victor roll simultaneously. Simon rolls a 7, Bram a 13, and Victor gets an 11.

“Since Bram made it above 12, he has to help Simon out of the cave after he gets hit on the back of the head once with a rock. Victor leads the group to safety with the help of the wolf-bat hybrid and it’s on to the next village. End of game 1.”

“Wow! What an awesome game Felix!” Bram remarks.

“This was really fun you guys,” Simon agrees, speaking into the webcam as if he was meeting Felix and Victor’s gazes directly. “Hopefully we can do it again next time when we’re in Atlanta.”

“Wait, you mean, you guys are coming to visit US?” Victor asks, incredulous. He can’t believe his ears.

“Yeah, you came to visit us, it’s only fair we do the same thing. Besides, Bram wants to get some pointers from the coach about how to coach middle school kids.”

“Might wanna choose a different gym teacher to learn from,” Felix tells him, smiling.

“Whatever, we wanna see you guys, and introduce you to our friends Leah and Abby too. We’re all coming back for a homecoming type thing, even our friend Nick is gonna be there. It’s not for at least a month, but we’ll be up there soon, I promise. And as always, we’re here if you need anything, Victor.”

“Thanks you guys. I can’t wait to see you guys in person again.” Victor says, and he’s definitely gushing. They used to be strangers to him, but now he can’t imagine life without their support. They’re like his fairy gay fathers or something. Victor laughs at that prospect, but it’s an accurate name for them.

“Nice meeting you Felix! Great game! Talk to you guys soon!” Bram says, and the call goes out.

“They’re really great.” Felix says, almost absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” Victor says, fully registering how he feels towards all the new friends he’s made in the last few weeks, and a warm, welcoming feeling filling up his stomach, almost like the butterflies that welled up in his chest when he kissed Benji. Only this was different. This was purely platonic. Victor’s family life might not be what he’d like it to be right now, but his social life was better than it ever was in Texas. What’s more, he was finally living his true life, his gay self, and he felt better than he had in days.

“Yeah, they’re pretty great.”

#love victor spoilers #love victor #love victor fanfic #dnd #love victor dnd #love victor dnd fanfic #emmett writes stuff

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tiimetvrnersgfredwsqa · 4 years

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⧼ hero fiennes-tiffin, cis male, he/his / nowhere man - the beatles + a partially buttoned starched button up shirt, with an untied tie hanging from the neck; the light reflecting off the shades of a broken bottle thrown out of frustration; expensive silk sheets of an unmade bed ⧽ ━━ hey, isn’t that THEODORE NOTT? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the TWENTY FOUR year old pure blood WIZARD is a SLYTHERIN alumnus who has gone on to be a MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE. i’ve heard they can be quite AMBITIOUS & QUICK-WITTED but i don’t know… they came off very ABRASIVE & CYNICAL in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

ABOUT:

pinterest board: coming soon

stats: coming soon

BRIEF HISTORY:

PRE- HOGWARTS

theodore nott was a miracle baby, his mother, a sickly woman had been told she would never be able to have a child. but determined to have a child, she began consulting healers, and when that didn’t work she moved on to potioneers, to other mothers. yet, no one could offer a solution.

they had just about given up trying to have a child, when the notts heard about a revolutionary new treatment. a muggle treatment. in virto frtilisations, ivf as it was more commonly known.

yet, with no other options, mrs. nott begged and begged until her husband agreed to the experimental procedure. and much to their dismay, and delight, it worked, and mrs. nott was soon with child.

because of his father’s role as a death eater and out of general fear of how people would react if they ever learned the true details of theodore’s conception, his parents kept her pregnancy a secret. in fact, it was only after the fall of voldemort that they revealed their son. and by then, everyone had their own troubles to worry about, so no one really though twice about it.

the only child of a wealthy, pure-blooded family, theodore was born into a life of unimaginable privilege. everything he wanted, everything he dreamed of, could be his, he didn’t even have to ask. he was spoiled beyond belief.

HOGWARTS YEARS

when theodore received his hogwart’s letter, there was a debate between his parents as to whether or not he would actually attend the school, or if he would be home schooled. his mother had grown very attached to him, and the idea of him being away made her quite upset. his father, wouldn’t hear of the idea. it was perhaps the only time theodore remembers his parents fighting.

of course, his father won the argument, and september 1st theodore made his first trip to hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. on the train he was invited to sit with children of his parents friends, who like him, were expected to be sorted into slytherin. they would become his closest, and perhaps only friends over the next seven years.

his first real exposure to the outside world, his first time out from underneath his parent’s careful observation, theodore was hesitant to really branch out, preferring to stay in the shadows where he found comfort. but as the year progressed, he began to step out of his shadow, proving to be quite the gifted student.

his second year was remarkably uneventful, the opening of the chamber of secrets hardly seeming to phase him, as he seemed to devote most of his time to studying. he was determined to be the best of his class.

the summer after his second year, however, theodore’s life was turned upside down. his mother had always been sick, he was used to her spending weeks at a time in bed. but this time it was different, they were told to prepare for the likelihood that she wouldn’t survive.

and despite his best efforts to prepare, despite his mother’s best efforts to prepare him for the inevitable, there was nothing that could prepare theodore to see his mother die before his own eyes.

despite having time to prepare, despite knowing that this day would come sooner than they wanted, no one could have foresaw what her death did to her husband. angry with the world for taking his true love, he blamed his son, screaming that it was his fault his mother would die. he spiraled, his devotion to the dark arts, stronger than ever before.

theodore’s relationship with his father would never be the same, they could hardly stand to be in the same room, so eventually they stopped trying. his father would drop him off for the train and pick him up at the end of the year, and the rest of the time he was on his own

by the time he returned to school for his third year, theodore was not the same person who had left. he was colder, more aloof, preferring to stay in the shadows rather than actively engage with his fellow students. yet, he still maintained friendships.

during a care of magical creatures lesson in his fifth year, theodore was forced to acknowledge the death of his mother when he came face to face with a thestral. one of the only students in the class able to see it, he was over come with memories of his mother’s death. and spent the next week in the hospital wing, having come down with a mysterious illness.

he received nothing below an acceptable on his OWLs, going on to take NEWT level potions, charms, transfiguration, defense against the dark arts classes, amongst others. though it was worth noting, he had no real career in mind.

he left before the battle of hogwarts, despite many of his friends choosing to stay, he just didn’t want any involvement. he has thought about this decision, but he maintains he made the right call.

POST HOGWARTS

the first thing theodore did after leaving hogwarts was move out of the house he shared with his father, finding an apartment in london. it was small and not very welcoming, but he didn’t care.

what else is notable, is that thedore went on to work for the ministry of magic. he doesn’t feel any one particular way towards his job, it’s money, that’s all that really matters.

right now he’s just living his life, i don’t really know what to put.

CANON CHANGES:

are these canon changes ?? idk but here we go

theodore has remained friends with his former housemates, notably draco malfoy who he considers to be his closest friend. whether or not draco feels the same towards him, he really doesn’t care. they get along, and the other boy might be the only one who can truly relate to him.

i suppose his job is a canon change, but i don’t think it’s ever really mentioned what he does.

the part in the cursed child, where he makes the time turners ?? yeah that’s a thing, obviously he hasn’t reached the point of building them, but he has the idea. for years he’s been obsessed with the idea of bringing his mother back or at the very least, going back to have more time with her. so that’s why he’s doing it, no dark motives, nothing to do with voldemort, he wants to see his mom.

FUN FACTS:

coming soon !

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

new friends - people he became friends with after the battle of hogwarts. he truly doesn’t hate anyone because of their blood status or house, so he could be friends with anyone. though it would make sense for them to be friends of friends or fellow minstry employees.

exes - from his hogwarts days or after, he’s not big on relationships, he saw what the death of his mother did to his dad and he’s not anxious to repeat that. but he has dated, he’s slept around. could be male or female.

i’ll add more once i think of them!

#❝ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇᴀʀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴ — ⟪ theodore nott ⟫#nox.intro

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