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#good fanfiction makes living bearable
elixrr · 4 months
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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡
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ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.
ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)
ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭
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✰ xiao ✰
— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.
Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.
Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.
Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)
☆ wriothesley ☆
— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.
Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.
Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.
Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.
Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.
Some day, he might as well do just that.
☆ lyney ☆
— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.
When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.
Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.
Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.
Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.
☆ dan heng☆
— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.
He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.
PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.
In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.
And he likely already has.
☆ argenti ☆
— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.
The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.
Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.
Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.
He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.
☆ blade ☆
— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.
Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.
That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.
The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.
Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.
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therealcocoshady · 3 months
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Recovery - Chapter 3
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Eminem x Reader (Y/N) fanfiction
Summary : Marshall and Y/N decide to celebrate a sobriety milestone but bad news get in the way.
Tag : -
A few weeks went by and you slowly started to adapt to what you could call your new normal. You were getting used to living with your friends and started working on your doctoral dissertation again, while going to meetings and making it to therapy. Every so often, you’d be invited to hang out in the studio with Talia and the boys and spend a couple of hours with them. However, most of your time was devoted to uni work so you didn’t hang out with them too much. In fact, today would be the first day you’d see them in a couple of weeks. If you were honest, you were particularly excited to see Marshall. The two of you had crossed path a number of times since you went on that drive and you always had a good time when you were with him. At that point, it was safe to say you had developed a harmless crush on him. Nothing major, but you did particularly enjoy looking at him and you were always happy to hug him hello and goodbye. You knew he would never be interested in you, so you simply decided to enjoy the sensation of feeling good in his presence.
The night after the two of you went on a drive, Talia had been grilling you with questions, but there was not much to say. The two of you had not talked about it but you were pretty sure she knew about your crush. She knew you too well anyway. Whatever, it was harmless, although she did make sure to always have you sit next to Marshall whenever she had the chance.
That day, you were happy for three reasons : first, it was Friday, which meant you would enjoy the weekend and some much needed rest from uni. Secondly, you were celebrating two months being sober. It hadn’t been without its trials, but you had made it so far and were extremely proud. Finally, you got to see Marshall. You were all smiles when you pushed the door to the studio and greeted everyone.
- Y/N, we have been waiting for you like you have no idea ! Jamal said.
- Oh really ? You asked in disbelief. Is that because you produce your best work whenever I’m around ? You asked with a smirk.
- Kind of, he answered jokingly. But it’s mostly because Marshall has been in a bad mood all day, which usually doesn’t happen when you’re around. So whatever it is, please work your magic and make our life bearable again, I beg of you, he added as he fell to his knees for good measure, in a very dramatic and theatrical way.
- Speaking of the devil, where is he ?
No one had time to answer your question, as Marshall came in the room, looking unnerved and slamming the door behind him. You looked at Talia, whose look confirmed that he was indeed in a bad mood. Everyone was silent.
- Now can we please give it a couple more tries and get that right ? Marshall asked exasperated.
- We’ve been working on that song for hours and nothing good came out, someone pointed out. How about we circle back to that later ?
- No, Marshall said coldly. We can get that thing to sound right and we will.
- Stubborn much ? Jamal asked jokingly before Marshall shot him a death glare.
You didn’t know if Marshall had seen you there or not but you weren’t sure as to whether or not greeting him was a good idea. You just sat next to Talia and stared at your phone as you were trying to finish reading a paper. You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings before you heard Marshall slamming his head against the mixing desk.
- Fuck. He said. We’re already behind on schedule. This album is going to be my last, I swear. If it ever even gets done.
- You already said that for the last one, Paul pointed out jokingly.
- Yeah well you know what ? I’m soon to turn fifty-two. I’m too old for that shit anyways, Marshall replied.
- Come on, dude. We have our good luck charm here today, Jamal said pointing at you.
You smiled shyly at Marshall, who seemed to ease a little.
- Hey there, he said before getting up to properly greet you. Sorry I didn’t say hi before. That was rude.
- It’s ok, you said as you hugged him. So… last album before you become an accountant ? You know, you could ask my dad for pointers, you said jokingly.
Marshall laughed and kissed your cheek.
- Ok, maybe I was being a bit dramatic and maybe it won’t be the last one, he said with a laugh.
Jamal looked at the two of you in disbelief, yet smiling.
- So he’s been an ass all day, and now that Y/N has been here for ten minutes, he’s laughing ?
Everyone laughed and Marshall raised his middle finger.
- Now that you’re in a better mood, can we PLEASE take a cigarette break ? Someone asked.
- Fine, Marshall said rolling his eyes, as most people left the room and he went back to his seat, scribbling in this notebook.
After a moment of silence, you decided to talk.
- I have News, you said.
- Good or bad ? He asked without looking up.
- Well, you tell me, you said with a smile, proudly showing your newly-earned sobriety chip.
He greeted you with a smile and pulled you in for a hug.
- I’m proud of you, he said before kissing you on the forehead, making you blush. We should celebrate.
- Really ? How so ?
- Dinner ? He offered.
- That sounds good, you said. How about you come tomorrow night ? I’ll cook !
- I’m intrigued, he said. So you’re beautiful, smart AND you can cook ?
- I would also showcase my dancing abilities, but you’d be too jealous, you joked, trying to distract yourself from the fact that he called you beautiful.
The two of you shared a laugh but were interrupted by people coming back from their break. They resumed the work and, thankfully for everyone, Marshall ended up being pleased by one of the versions they recorded.
The next day, you decided to go shopping for your celebration dinner. You decided to cook some French recipe. « Whatever you want, unless it’s frogs or snails » Talia had told you. A while ago, you may or may not have tried to get your friends to taste snails, which ended up in a complete disaster. You were excited to cook and were in a good mood when you arrived to the store. You quickly grabbed the items you needed but the joy left your body when you reached the register and saw Simon - your Simon - kissing a beautiful woman as they were grabbing a few items. He seemed happy as ever. You could not help but stare at them and wonder for how long they’d been together. Something about their demeanour made it feel like they’d been a couple for ages. As you lowered your gaze, in hope they wouldn’t notice you, Simon called your name.
- Y/N ?
- Simon. Hi, you said.
- You look… well, he pointed out.
- I am, thank you, you replied. How are you ?
- Good. Kind of busy.
- I figured, you couldn’t help but say, quickly staring at the beautiful lady he was with.
- I meant with work.
- Oh. Right. Well I’d love to chat but I have to go. Have a good one.
You paid and quickly left the store. For some reason, you felt humiliated, even though Simon had every right to date whoever he liked. After all, you hadn’t been together for nearly three months. Plus, Simon was the very définition of perfection : handsome, polite, successful. Looking back, it was kind of obvious he wouldn’t have trouble finding someone else. And it wasn’t exactly like he made a promise to wait for you either.
Even though you tried your best not to cry on the way home, you sniffled as you walked through the door.
- Baby, are you alright ? Talia asked.
- I saw Simon, today. Kissing someone.
As soon as the words left your lips, tears started to stream down your cheeks.
- Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry ! She said before giving you a much needed hug.
- I know it’s silly but some part of me thought that… I’d get better and we’d get back together and… and…
- I know. I thought you guys were endgame too, she said sheepishly.
She held you for a while as you sobbed.
- Let’s focus on the positive, honey ! Let’s celebrate those two months of you getting better. I’ll help you cook, she offered.
- Do you mind if we reschedule ? You asked. I don’t feel like celebrating. Or cooking. Or eating, for that matter.
- Are you sure, baby ? Marshall should be here soon. I promise we’ll have a good night, just the four of us, she tried.
- Yeah… can you call him and tell him I’m sorry ? I think I should go to my room and rest for a bit.
You apologised once again and left the items on the kitchen counter before going to your room. You changed into some sweatpants and a tank top and laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It dawned on you that Simon and you were truly over. Even though you tried thinking of something else, you couldn’t help but seeing him with that girl. She was truly beautiful. Probably more deserving of him, too. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing from your eyes. It felt like a fountain. Deep down, you knew it was your fault. You were the one who screwed up. He was the perfect match for you, you screwed up and now, you’d probably end up alone.
You heard a knock on the door.
- I’m fine, Talia, you said while wiping away your tears.
- It’s not Talia, you heard Marshall’s voice say. Can I come in ?
Marshall ? What was he doing here ? You quickly got up and opened the door.
- Hey, you said. I’m sorry, I told Talia to cancel for tonight. I’m feeling a bit under the weather…
- She told me about your ex, he said. But she thought we should do something to get your mind off things. Come here.
He pulled you in for a hug. He grabbed your face in his hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs.
- I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone’s face so swollen after crying, he said with a smile.
- I know, I’m an ugly cryer, you replied.
- Everyone’s ugly when they cry, he pointed out.
- No, that’s not true. Some people manage to stay hot even when they cry.
- Well I’ve never seen that, he said as he shook his head.
- I’m sure Ms. Perfection over there is still beautiful when she cries, you mumbled.
- Who ? Marshall asked, looking confused.
- The girl Simon was kissing. You should have seen her, Marshall. So beautiful. Tall. And blonde. And skinny. And perfect for him in every way. The opposite of me.
You rolled your eyes at the thought of her.
- As beautiful as she may be, I’m sure she can’t compete with you, Marshall said.
- You haven’t seen her, you pointed out.
- I don’t need to, he shrugged.
He was just being nice and you knew it full well. Still, the compliments made you feel a bit better.
- Why don’t you join Talia and Jamal ? Let me just put on something other than sweats and I’ll start cooking.
- I thought you wanted to cancel dinner ? He asked, looking confused.
- Yeah, but Talia still made you come all this way, so I might as well feed you.
- That’s awfully nice of you, he said with a grin.
- Nice of you to come, you said with a shy smile.
- Anything for you, Y/N, he replied with a serious tone. You can call me and I’ll be there.
- Good thing I don’t have your number, you said with a smile. You’d never live in peace otherwise.
- Let’s correct that, shall we ?
He grabbed your phone and entered his number in it.
- Now you can call me, he said. Anytime.
- Thanks, Marshall.
You gave him a shy smile and immediately rang him so he’d have your number too.
- I can help you cooking if you want, he offered. But I should warn you : I’m not too good at it.
- You’re a grown man and you can’t cook ? You asked in disbelief.
- Well I guess I can prepare food. I even worked as a short-order cook, a long time ago. I wouldn’t call that cooking though. Neither would my kids, he said with a grin.
- I’ll teach you a thing or two, then. Let me just get dressed.
- Why ? He asked. We’re staying in. You don’t have to make an effort for me.
You shrugged and headed to the kitchen with him. Truth was, you didn’t want Marshall to think of you as sloppy. Even though he did not really seem to care.
When you entered the kitchen, you found Jamal and Talia hugging and kissing like teenagers.
- You guys are too cute. I can’t handle that right now, you said.
- Yeah, please don’t rub your happiness in our single faces, Marshall pleaded.
- Sorry guys, I’m too in love with this gorgeous lady, Jamal said.
Both you and Marshall pretended to puke. The four of you laughed and started cooking together while listening to music. You tried teaching them how to prepare some traditional French chicken dish. It was a simple one but you hadn’t exactly been given the most attentive students. Marshall was desperately trying to cut the vegetables correctly (nearly destroying them in the process), while Talia and Jamal kept on making out like teenagers. You ended up preparing the dish by yourself. It wasn’t perfect but the group deemed it to be good enough.
- Don’t worry Y/N. If you keep cooking like that, we’ll find you a husband soon enough, Jamal complimented.
- JAMAL ! Talia shouted.
- Sorry. Wrong timing, he apologised. You know what I mean.
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Jamal was really sweet and you knew he meant well.
- it’s good to hear you laugh, Talia said as she grabbed your hand.
- Thanks for being here, guys, you replied. My day sucked but you make it better.
- Anytime, Marshall said.
The four of you kept the conversation going but were soon disturbed by the door buzzing. Talia went to answer.
- Hey Talia. Is Y/N here ? I’d like to speak to her, you heard an all too familiar voice say.
- Simon ? You asked as your heart started racing. What are you doing here ?
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lz-didyounotice · 2 months
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The girl with a thousand faces : Part 1
Hey guys! hum warning, this is my first fanfiction on Doctor Who. I wrote this one with the tenth doctor in mind. English is not my primary language, so please be indulgent. This fic will be in two or three parts depending on what the general reaction will be :0 So hum yeah. Also in the first chapter, you're given a certain name, but it will not be definitive.
Froggit-
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Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3
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Your destiny wasn’t what you could call “normal”. For a human at least. 
Playing, studying, going to college, finding a job, having a family, and growing old, could be called a winning ticket. You, on the other hand, had to deal with something else for as long as you could remember. 
Remembering. Here was something you were good at, something you had done for dozens of years without even understanding why it was happening. All those faces, all those lives you had to leave behind you. A single heart that had to grow again and again, without knowing where it would end up next, what language it would speak, what future it would be. 
A miracle some would call it. To you, it was purely a curse. The process of dying, being conceived again, growing up, and remembering your past lives, was getting tiring as the years came by. But here you were once again. And this time, your death had been quite special. Never would you have imagined dying to free a city.
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Paris was beautiful, it was true. But too many people lived there for it to be breathable. Summer was a pain in the ass, having no air circulating between buildings, and the cramped space of the streets, making the temperature grow higher each passing day. It wasn’t bearable. Breathing wasn’t easy, and there was as much that water could solve. 
Today was one of those days. Waking up to windows covered in craft paper to reduce the heat coming in the house, the rod from your old shutters, still in a corner of your room waiting to be saved. A kitchen, a little too small for even one person, and a pan to heat the water. A simple life in a busy city.
The bus had taken its sweet time to arrive, making you late for work. As soon as you entered the small café, you were in for quite a lot.
“Oh! Louise te voilà enfin! t’as presque une demie heure de retard, Naeva te cherche partout. J’ai mis ton uniforme dans l’arrière boutique 
oh! Louise! here you are, you’re practically Half an hour late, Naeva was searching for you. I put your uniform in the back
-Ah! Merci beaucoup Fély! je ne sais pas ce que je ferais sans toi. Désolée pour le retard, mon bus a encore été dévié.
Ah! Thanks a lot, Fély! I don’t know what I would do without you! Sorry for being late, my bus took another route again.
-C’est pas à moi qui faut dire ça, allez dépêches toi, on ouvre dans 5 minutes.”
I’m not the one you should tell this, and hurry up, we open in 5 min.
With a big smile, you walked by the kitchen to finally get dressed in your work attire.
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Working wasn’t a passion. Making drinks had become mechanical long before even entering this café. Made it more of a chore to keep a place to live. 
Even with the knowledge of a thousand years, you had stayed here, certain that something special would happen in this life. This “something special” came with the name of John Smith. A beautiful man in a striped suit, bearing a gorgeous smile. Never would you have guessed that this man could bring so much trouble with him. 
You were happy to have learned how to regain your memory faster. And practicing sports did wonders. But Running from potato-headed soldiers wasn’t how you imagined your Monday to go. Their guns secured in hand while they tried to shoot you and the man beside you. 
Somehow, you managed to get shot in the side. Sure it hurt like a bitch, but it wasn’t your first rodeo with this kind of injury.
Making a new turn, the two of you had entered a small building. As soon as the door was closed, you heard a weird vibrating sound and saw “John” hunched over the door lock.
“It should last us a bit before they can get us.
-Who the heck are you ?! You seem to know an awful lot about what those are.  
-I’m the Doctor.
-The Doctor? What kind of doctor runs from bald potato soldiers?
-I could ask you the same. And you were also shot. Do you think you can still help?
- I might die either way. Let me be useful….”
“ So… what is the plan? “
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The Sontarans had tried to sneak a bomb on Earth. Similarly to a mine, someone had to walk on it for it to detonate. In this case, only a human could make it explode. The bomb was still on their ship, and the Doctor had found their teleporter. 
The safe was easy to find, but to take down the fleet, the bomb had to be activated. 
“Doctor, I know it’s not the best option, but I'm the only one here able to make the ship go down. I’m already injured so it wouldn't be a big loss. You'll probably find me again in another life anyway. You, on the other hand, I’m not entirely sure.
-What do you mean another life ?! You're not dying, not on my watch…!”
The brunette seemed stressed. You knew he was trying to hide it, but you had too much time in your life to know what was going on in his head.
“You know what? Can I promise you something?
-I don’t think I quite follow but go ahead.
-I promise you, I'll always come back. No matter what. Might take a few human years but I'll always be back. No matter the life. “
The doctor seemed surprised. Humans surely made shallow promises in the hope of making things better, and to make others less guilty. But the sincerity of your voice made him believe it, and it scared him.
“Who are you, Louise....?”
All you gave him was a small smile before picking yourself up, blood still spreading on your shirt despite having transformed your apron into a temporary bandage. Only three digits were necessary to open the door. Your hand on the lock, the door slides open, and the monstrosity you had before your eyes made you want to throw up. You knew of the pain that was going to go through you. It wasn’t your first death by a bomb, but the last blasted your brain in tranches below the surface.
The bomb looked like a normal sewer lid, it would have been easy for a citizen to mistake it for a normal one. Checking Behind you, you had hoped to see the face of the doctor one last time before taking a step.
His eyes held sorrow, convinced that he had to make something else work. In comparison yours held hope, knowing that it wouldn’t be your end. But as red lights came into existence, he had to run. His eyes turned as he ran away to get to safety.
Once you knew he was far enough, as your foot barely touched the bomb, you felt your skin burn like a thousand suns. It was almost welcoming.
Darkness took over, letting you sink into the unknown.
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Has you opened your eyes again, all you could see was the face of a beautiful woman. A halo was drawn on top of her head, as she whispered a sweet lullaby.
making gurgling noises, you finally reached for her nose, desperate to touch something again. And all you saw was her smile as she put her head against yours. Your name fell beautifully from her lips. 
“Welcome to the world… Y/N Noble…”
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vavoomed-for-crowley · 2 months
Text
Living With(out) You on AO3
"Oh, hello" Mr. Fell greeted the person and wondered if he had forgotten to turn the sign around to show they were closed. He must have. Otherwise the door would've been locked. "I fear we're closed right now."
"Oh, sorry. I didn't-" the person excused themself and turned around to look at the door. They were sure they had checked the sign, still they felt ashamed, cheeks turning slightly pink. "It won't take long!" they quickly said. "I'm new to the neighborhood and just wanted to introduce myself." They handed the biscuits to Mr. Fell.
"Oh. Ohh, that's lovely!" Mr. Fell said and looked happily at the biscuits in his hand. "Welcome, my dear. I'm Mr. Fell and this-" The angel turned around to look at the stairs as he had noticed Crowley coming downstairs but the demon stood on the stairs and shook his head. "And this is my bookshop. You're very welcome. We're just in the middle of something right now, I fear."
"I won't bother any longer, just like I said. Have a nice day."
"You too, my dear" Mr. Fell said friendly and watched them leave. Just then, Crowley joined the angel. "That was pretty rude of you, Crowley! You could've said hello!" he rebuked the demon and began to continue where he had just been interrupted.
"I've done my socialising for today by talking to our archangel with amnesia" Crowley answered bored as two bookshelves turned around, revealing heavy red-golden curtains. "What are you doing?"
"Just making space for..." the angel paused and thought of his choice of words. "Everything that needs to happen."
Just because I feel like I need to promote my story some more.
Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader Fanfiction on AO3
Summary:
Crowley had stopped believing for long. God, heaven, hell... They had all shown him that destiny was just a word to them and they were all puppets in a show. And when Aziraphale left for heaven and him behind, Crowley tried to drown all he ever felt in alcohol. If only there hadn't been those stupid humans who wouldn't leave him alone because they saw something like a friend in him. But somehow... he liked them? How was he supposed to hate existence when there was so much good in life and people and he couldn't ignore it. So, as he stopped pushing them away, his emotions began to feel bearable again. But would he ever be able to live without Aziraphale?
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snowmist-hashira · 11 months
Text
[Chapter title: Feline]
Muichiro Tokitou x Reader
Warning: PG-13 content Word Count: 3,051
Wattpad: [KNY Fanfiction] (One shots) Tokito Muichiro x Reader
Archive: Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Muichiro x Reader Master list: ♠ Information ♠
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Artist link: https://twitter.com/mboj321
I am open to requests for Muichiro x Reader content, and I also enjoy engaging in roleplays. If you're interested in either, please feel free to check out my pinned post for more information. ~ ♠
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Y/n and Tokito Muichiro had been acquainted for quite some time. They had been in the same class for nearly three years, but it wasn't until they were assigned to be partners on a task that they truly began to interact.
Living alone was proving to be difficult for Y/n, not because of the tasks and responsibilities that came with it, but because of the constant feeling of loneliness. She had to adjust to a solitary lifestyle and rely solely on herself.
Y/n had a companion in the form of a blue feline, whom she fondly called her own. The cat kept her company throughout the day, especially since she lived alone. Being alone often led to loneliness, but having the cat around made things more bearable. After school, Y/n would sometimes invite Muichiro over to her place to hang out.
Y/n opened the front door of her apartment with a smile, announcing her return. Muichiro followed behind her and they were greeted by a warm meow coming from her cat who was waiting for them at the entrance.
"Have you been a good girl?" Y/n asked as she took off her shoes and knelt down. She stretched her palm towards her blue cat, who nuzzled against her touch, and Y/n couldn't help but squeal at the cuteness.
Y/n proceeded to stand up and adjust the curtains and blinds in preparation for the evening, as it was starting to get dark outside. As she did so, her blue feline gazed up at Muichiro, his mint-colored eyes glanced down, seeing the cat as if requesting something. Muichiro responded with a small smile, patting the cat, who let out a welcoming meow in return.
She sneakily stole a glance at the him, enjoying at the sight at how Muichiro’s gaze softened. Y/n found herself attracted to his unique personality. Although he appeared cold and detached on the outside, she discovered that he was actually warm and caring on the inside.
“She really likes you more than me.” Y/n remarked, her cat seemed to have taken a liking to Muichiro, as she observed how the feline was becoming fonder of him with each visit. Despite this, she couldn't help but feel a bit envious, wishing she could receive the same amount of attention from him as her pet did.
“I doubt that.” Muichiro replied.
The room was filled with soft lighting, casting a warm and inviting glow that immediately put them at ease. The comfortable armchairs and couches beckoned them to sink in and relax. The faint smell of coffee beans in the air added to the homely atmosphere. The absence of any tension or stress made them feel comfortable and secure, like they were in a safe haven. The soothing silence completed the calming ambiance, making them feel like they were wrapped in a warm, comforting embrace.
Y/n placed the freshly brewed coffee on the table, and Muichiro sat on the carpet right next to it, placing his bag beside him. "Thanks," he said.
Whenever Y/n was around, Muichiro felt an unusual sense of letting his guard down. As a demon exterminator, he was always on high alert and had honed his swordsmanship skills to their limits. But with Y/n, it felt like he could completely let his guard down. Her presence had a calming effect on him, and he felt a sense of peace around her.
He took pride in witnessing a different aspect of Y/n's personality, as she appeared gentle and elegant on the outside, but she also possessed a mischievous side that she only revealed to him. He found this sense of exclusivity appealing.
"Meow!" Her cat playfully growled as Y/n tickled its belly, causing her to break into small laughs. Though the feline appeared to be aggressive, trying to bite her hand, Y/n was quick to pull it away before it could do any harm. “Ahaha~”
The cat went to Muichiro and started to purr and nuzzle its face onto his lap. Muichiro was surprised but responded by giving the cat some affection. Y/n couldn't help but pout, feeling jealous of how the cat was getting Muichiro's attention.
‘Is he like that because it’s a cat?’
Y/N came up with an idea and mimicked a cat by raising one hand like a paw and lowering the other, tilting her head and making an attempt to look cute with her eyes, while saying "M-Meow~". She knew that this action could possibly make her look silly and undermine her dignity.
Y/n couldn't help but feel embarrassed at her childish actions, she looked up at him, hoping he wouldn't think she was too weird or childish. She was met with a pair of widened mint eyes, blinking confusingly at her antics.
And at that moment, she regretted it.
Mui couldn't help but lowly laugh at Y/N's playful act, finding it amusing and entertaining. "Well, I think you make a pretty convincing cat, Y/N," he said, chuckling. "But I'm not sure if all cats make that cute of a face."
“Wha-“ Y/N was surprised by his words and wondered how he could say something like that with a straight face. Despite this, she noticed that his demeanor remained the same, except for a laugh which had become common between them.
Y/N expressed her embarrassment and covered her mouth before turning away from Muichiro. She had a slight pink tint on her cheeks due to the embarrassment caused by his words. Muichiro chuckled at her reaction and playfully ruffled her hair.
Y/n couldn't help but steal glances at Muichiro, feeling the warmth of his hand and the tenderness of his gaze. It was clear to her that he regarded her as something precious and valuable, and she found that incredibly endearing. She was drawn to the way he expressed himself, and she wondered what other emotions he was capable of showing. Muichiro's charm had her a bit lost in thought.
Y/n suggested a playful idea to get closer to Muichiro. She crouched down with one hand on the floor, using her other hand like a paw. She then moved closer to Muichiro until their faces were only a few inches apart. Y/n then purred and said "Meow~" in a cute attempt to be playful, but she felt herself blushing from the close proximity to him.
She attempted to mimic a cat, but it appeared that her actions were unintentionally alluring Tokito.
Tokito blushed as Y/n got closer, her playful meows now sounding more like purring. He could feel her breath on his face, sending shivers down his spine. Y/n's playful cat imitation seemed to have unintentionally caught Muichiro's attention in a different way. Instead of finding it amusing, he found himself drawn to her as she leaned in closer to him. He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked, with her hand mimicking a paw and her soft purring. He felt a strange sensation in his chest as he looked at her, and he couldn't look away.
Y/n was surprised by the sight, as she observed the blush on his cheeks. She found it intriguing that the once cold and strong-looking Tokito Muichiro that she first met was now melting in such a manner. It captivated her attention.
Who wouldn’t? He looked vulnerable right now.
"Y-Y/n, I think that's enough teasing for today," he stammered, attempting to maintain his composure. He gently pushed her back to create some distance between them, feeling a little flustered.
Y/n's mischievous side was triggered by Muichiro's flustered reaction, causing her to playfully grin. She teased him by poking his cheeks and asking, "Are you feeling embarrassed, Mui~?" She found his flustered state to be adorable and couldn't resist reacting that way.
Despite his protests, Muichiro's flushed face betrayed his true feelings. Y/n's teasing had clearly gotten to him, and he struggled to regain his composure. "You're just being silly," he tried to insist, but the words lacked conviction.
Y/n teased Muichiro further by cupping his cheeks to make him face her. She had a smirk on her face as she noticed the bright blush on his cheeks. She could feel the warmth of his skin as well and exclaimed, "But you are!"
As Y/N continued to hold his face, Muichiro's face became even more flushed. Despite his protests, Y/N could tell that he was embarrassed. "I know you're embarrassed, Mui," Y/N said teasingly, smirking at the sight of his bright red face. She could feel the warmth emanating from his cheeks.
"I-I'm not embarrassed," However, Muichiro continued to deny it and repeated that Y/N was just being silly. Y/N could sense that he was panicking internally, even though he was trying to hide it.
Y/n chuckled and continued to tease Mui, not believing his denial. She held his chin and pulled him even closer, tilting her head with a mischievous smirk. There was a glint of dominance in her eyes that sparked.
She was clearly enjoying this moment too much.
As Y/N pulled Muichiro closer, he couldn't help but feel his heart racing. His cheeks grew even redder as he struggled to maintain eye contact with her. "I-I... I’m not," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. But even as he spoke, he knew he was lying to himself. Y/N's proximity was making him feel all sorts of things he had never felt before.
Y/n continued to hold Muichiro's chin and maintain eye contact, she could sense his nervousness and feel his heart racing. "Are you sure about that, Mui?" she asked with a sly smile, knowing full well that he was lying to himself. She could see the desire and vulnerability in his eyes, and it only made her want to tease him even more.
Y/N's mischievous side only grew stronger as Muichiro continued to deny his embarrassment. She moved even closer, lifting his chin and exhaling warm air onto his neck. Muichiro's face grew even redder and he felt increasingly flustered by Y/N's teasing. He tried to break eye contact, but Y/N's grip on his chin prevented him from doing so.
"I...I am not embarrassed," he stuttered, trying to sound convincing but failing miserably.
Y/N found Muichiro's reaction amusing and chuckled as she whispered to him, her breath gently brushing against his neck. She then asked him if he was certain, prompting him to finally give in and admit, while laughing softly, that he was indeed embarrassed.
She grinned triumphantly as Muichiro finally admitted to being embarrassed. She released her hold on his chin and leaned back, giving him some space. "Aww, you're so cute when you're flustered," she teased, poking his nose lightly.
Y/N tilted her head and smiled, as if reverting back to her innocent self. "See, that wasn't so hard to admit, was it?"
With a small smile, Muichiro chuckled and acknowledged Y/N's teasing had left him feeling slightly embarrassed yet amused. "You're quite skilled at getting people to admit things, aren't you?" He admitted that Y/N was quite skilled at making people confess to things.
"Oh, really? You think so?" Y/N replied innocently, creating some distance between them.
Mui chuckled softly at Y/N's question. "Yes, you are," he said, his eyes glistening with affection. "You're always full of surprises, Y/N. It's part of what makes you so lovable."
"...!" Y/N was taken aback by Muichiro's compliment and blushed slightly in response. She quickly regained her composure and thanked him. Y/N realized that getting compliments from him felt different than from others. While she had received many compliments before, Muichiro's words felt particularly heart-warming to her.
Muichiro saw how Y/N reacted and found her adorable, making him smile warmly. "You're welcome," he replied. "You really do have a way of brightening up a room, Y/N."
Y/N sought clarification from Muichiro that teasing him was a way to brighten up the room. She then gave him a judgmental look and asked, "Do you actually enjoy being teased?"
Muichiro chuckled softly, "Well, I wouldn't say I love it, but I do find it amusing and entertaining. It's a nice way to break the ice and lighten up the mood." He smiled warmly at Y/N. "And teasing me back is also a good way.”
Y/N pouted and mumbled to herself, almost inaudibly, "I only tease you because I like you." She then turned away, crossed her arms, and assumed that Muichiro hadn't heard her confession.
Muichiro, however, did hear her statement, and he couldn't help but feel a little flustered at her words. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. "I...uh...I like it when you tease me too, Y/N." He admitted, his cheeks tinged with pink. It was unusual to see him struggle with his words, as he usually sounded confident. But in this instance, he was searching for the right words to say.
“Wha..” Y/N turned to Muichiro with an intense gaze, her sudden movement startling him. She took a deep breath before mustering up the courage to ask him, "Why do you like it when I tease you?" Her mind was racing with possibilities, hoping that his answer would confirm that he shared her feelings.
Muichiro looked at Y/N with a faint smile on his lips, his eyes slightly squinted in thought. "I guess...I just like seeing you in a playful mood. And I know that teasing is your way of showing affection," he replied, his tone softening as he spoke. "It's...nice. It makes me feel like we're close."
"Like almost this close?" Y/N pushed Muichiro down on the carpet with a gentle yet swift motion, positioning herself on top of him and pinning him down with her hands. She ran a strand of hair behind her ear in a seductive manner and tilted her head with a look of dominance and confidence in her eyes. It seemed like she wasn't teasing him this time, but rather trying to convey a message.
Tokito's eyes widened in surprise as Y/N suddenly pushed him down, pinning him to the carpet. He felt his heart racing as he gazed up at her, her eyes gleaming with confidence and dominance.
He swallowed nervously before answering her question. "Y-Yes, almost that close."
He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in that moment, her hair falling perfectly around her face, and the way she held herself with such poise and control.
He was amazed by Y/N's confidence and the way she was able to take charge of the situation. He knew that she was teasing him, but he couldn't resist her playful advances.
"But why do you ask?" he added, curious about her intentions.
Y/N's frown deepened as she looked at Muichiro, “Mui… You’re awfully dense.” Feeling a bit frustrated with his lack of understanding. Without answering his question, she lifted one of her hands from the floor and grabbed his chin, using her thumb to playfully touch his bottom lip. She held his gaze with her own, her expression a mixture of amusement and desire.
Muichiro's heart quickened as Y/N held him down and touched his lip with her thumb. He was immobilized, overwhelmed by her dominant demeanor. "D-Dense? What do you mean?" he stammered, staring up at her with a blend of bewilderment and yearning in his eyes.
The intensity of Y/N's actions only made Muichiro more attracted to her, and he found himself unable to resist her. His voice was barely audible as he asked her, his eyes locked onto hers. “Y-Y/N, what are you doing..”
Y/N released Muichiro's chin and held her hair in place as she leaned in closer to him, saying in a breathless and alluring tone, "I like you."
As she drew closer and whispered her message of affection, Muichiro's heart skipped a beat. He had always admired Y/N from afar, but he never thought that she would be interested in him.
Her eyes showed no hint of uncertainty, only a dominant aura as she closed the gap between their faces and tilted her head for a better angle. She planted a swift kiss on his lips, closing her eyes as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks.
Muichiro was surprised by Y/N's sudden confession and bold actions, but he couldn't deny the fluttery feeling in his chest. He closed his eyes as she leaned in for a kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer. Their kiss was gentle yet passionate, and it conveyed the depth of their mutual feelings for each other.
He felt a rush of emotion and passion that he had never experienced before.
Muichiro couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. He wanted to hold her close and tell her how much he loved her.
When they parted, Muichiro opened his eyes and looked at Y/N with a small smile. "I like you too, Y/N," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N was surprised when Muichiro kissed her back, and she quickly pulled away, covering her mouth with the back of her hand in a cute manner. She was now blushing, and the confident aura she had before was gone, replaced by a shy expression in her eyes.
"I... I didn't expect that," she stuttered.
Tokito was surprised too, but he couldn't help but feel a bit relieved that Y/N had returned his feelings. He sat up and looked at her with a smile. "I like you too, Y/N," he said softly. "I'm sorry if I was too dense to realize it earlier."
"Yeah, damn you're right." Y/N cursed at his denseness, turning away in embarrassment "I like you too as well, idiot." She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down, but the blush on her face showed that she was still flustered.
Muichiro let out a soft chuckle, feeling a sense of relief and happiness at Y/N's confession. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, extending his hand to take hers. "I've actually been wanting to tell you for a while, but I wasn't sure if you felt the same way." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
He knew that he had found someone special, someone who understood him and accepted him for who he was. He couldn't wait to see where their relationship would go, and he knew that he would always cherish the memory of their first kiss.
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crimsonfic · 10 months
Text
Sanemi Shinazugawa Fanfiction- Turbulence
Foreign Musician Y/N
Subjects: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Violence, Gore, Death, Blood, Vulgar language, Mature Language & Content, other sensitive subjects
?? Chapters
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Chapter 1
Chapter includes: Smut, Mature Language
You sat perfectly still as you watched your band mates set up their instruments. Laughing and talking as they usually did. You let out a deep sigh.
"What's wrong y/n?" Frank asked you as he cleaned his saxophone.
"Nothing." It's not that something was wrong, you were just bored. You loved singing, you loved doing this every night, but when it was over you were bored. Almost depressingly. You had no other friends, no one to talk to, no one to touch. As much as you loved your friends, all they did after was drink, smoke, or play cards. You were okay with spending time with them but you didn't drink heavy the way they did, the smell of smoke gave you a headache, and cards were getting old. Already you knew the way your night was going to go and you hated it.
Being in Japan was mind blowing, you had huge culture shock at how reserved the society was in general. You all got so many shocked stares and heard plenty hushed whispers when you got here. Whether it was your skin or the way you dressed, you didn't know but it never stopped. It didn't bother you. It wasn't much different from home. In fact, it was much more bearable than it was at home.
"She's just mad." Brass chimed in from where he stood with his bass.
You looked at him waiting to hear what he was going to say. "She's mad cause she needs to get laid. It's been what? 8 months?" He snickered sending you a look to which you playfully rolled your eyes. He wasn't wrong, but you weren't mad.
"Why don't you come with us tonight? We were invited to a special house." Muddy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively from where he stood inspecting his guitar.
"Special house?" You asked. "Like a brothel?"
"Oh, pass." You replied.
"You too good for us now?" Frank smiled.
"No, I think I'll just walk around tonight though. I want y'all to tell me all about it when y'all get back though." You returned the smile.
"Okay. Ima tell ya everythang. How it taste, what it look like, how it feel." Brass laughed.
"You're gross man." Frank said.
Brass feigned hurt by putting his hand over his heart and gasping.
You shook your head at their playful banter before turning your head up to the sky. You could hardly see the stars in the sky with how brightly lit the area was.
The entertainment district was the best place you could perform to make money in Tokyo. People have told you that the sultry sound of your voice, the energy of the jazz, and how good looking you all were was the perfect combination. You were often tipped generously by people here, whether it's because something you played got them in the mood, or brightened an otherwise dead date, or because it was just something new for them.
You tried counting the stars until Muddy signaled he was ready for you to take your spot.
Walking to the front of the tiny platform you grabbed your all white feather boa, draping it carefully over your shoulders. At the front you stood on your barely noticeable mark. In your head you counted the music in with the tap of Brass's foot.
When Muddy came in with his trumpet, people came closer. The lively beat pulling them closer to the makeshift stage. As Frank joined in you let yourself sway to the beat.
Your cue approached and you let your voice ring out. Allowing your voice to project since you didn't have a microphone.
As time went on the crowd got livelier, your bandmates and only friends energy rose, your heart felt fulfilled. Music was all of your outlets. It was therapeutic.
Your eyes roamed the crowd, making connections; it helped with tips. Some faces were familiar, some people had begun to come here regularly to watch your performances. Some were new and one of them stuck out like a sore thumb. There was a huge man standing with his arms crossed. He didn't seem like anyone else here at all. He wore large beads around his neck and wrists and a wondrous look on his face as he stared straight ahead at you.
Next to him was another large man, he had white hair and a headband with large jewels on them. His large arms were nearly ripping out of his kimono.
Beside him stood another man. He also had white hair, it was thick and styled in an way that was almost wind blown. He was tall but not as noticeably as the other two. His chest was exposed, scars apparent on his muscular and defined pecs. His kimono was only loosely tied, and it was all black. You found yourself entranced by him as you stared. Before, while you were looking at the other two, his eyes were adverted, his head to the side as he seemed to be watching for something. Right now however, he seemed to sense that you were looking at him so when your eyes made it up to his face he was staring at you already. He wasn't close enough to be able to tell the color of them but from where you were you could tell they were unique. All three of theirs were actually.
You held his gaze, lightly smiling through your singing at being caught basically ogling this man. As long as you stared at him, he returned it. His eyes only left yours when you looked away at the man in front of you getting down on his knees with his hands clasped.
Oh no, not again. You thought.
Not breaking your melody you turn to look at Muddy who thought the situation was funny. The crinkle around his eyes gave it away. Of course he wouldn't be any help to you. You took a step back and continued your performance.
When this song ended you felt anxiety start creeping up.
Please don't make a scene, please don't make a scene.
Of course the universe wasn't on your side. You already knew this.
"Please marry me. Please. Please be mine." The man who had gotten down to plead asked, shaking his clasped hands in front of you.
You only gave a polite smile and slight bow before saying "sorry."
"Please? Please Miss, I love you. You make me feel alive."
Oh dear lord
"Please Miss. I'll give you whatever you desire." He pleaded more.
You were hoping someone would step in because you hated to do it yourself. Granted your approach didn't help much. You probably made it harder, but you couldn't bring yourself to be firm with these people.
"Please, get up off the floor honey." You gestured for him to rise. The tone of your voice enough to coax him to listen, his mouth open in awe.
"I can't marry you okay? But you come back and see me tomorrow night and maybe we can go on a date...?"
He nodded his head quickly. "Yes miss. Yes. I'll be here tomorrow night."
"Okay, see you tomorrow then." You winked at him and he audibly gasped.
"Yes. O-okay." He backed away from you slowly, bumping into people in the process, as he was too entranced to look away from you.
You gave him a little wave before turning away from him and walking over to Brass.
Your face said a thousand words.
"You can't keep going on dates with the people you try to let down easily." He laughed.
"I don't want to hurt their feelings."
"They're already hurt, they want to marry you woman. You're breaking their hearts anyway might as well do it swiftly."
"Well maybe if you helped me..."
"No can do, I like to see their reactions. He's still looking at you by the way." Brass told you before waving at the man you presume.
You groaned. He was right you do need to stop doing this but you had a hard time telling them no. You definitely didn't want to be married but you hated to break their hearts even though you never felt the same. Not even after the dates.
"I'll be your back up for the date tomorrow. I definitely want to see how he handles himself. He's like a lovesick puppy right now."
"Yeah yeah yeah. Okay." You answered.
"Well now that that's over you fellas ready to get our night started?" Muddy asked as he came over to you both, trumpet already tucked away into its case.
"Yeah." Frank called from his spot, as he tucked his sax away.
You stood quietly waiting for Brass to finish packing before you four headed home, recalling the vibes from tonight's performance. They were excited, probably more eager to get to their next destination. Back at the house, the way they dressed up and cleaned themselves was very indicative to what type of night they were going to have. You followed them out of the house you were staying in and walked with them to the house they were visiting. There was nowhere in particular you wanted to see tonight so you would go wherever your feet carried.
You waved goodbye to your friends as you watched them confidently stride in. Women at the door were already blushing and covering their giggles as they passed by. You rolled your eyes in good nature before turning to start your night of wandering.
Japan was so safe. Much better than the states could ever be. You would never be able to walk around a neighborhood freely like this. It could cost you your life. Here, you didn't have to look over your shoulder praying you weren't being followed, you didn't have to sit idle or silent when harassed. It was a breath of fresh air!
You received lots of stares as you walked around admiring the city.
It had gotten significantly louder as you turned on a street you never been on before. It was packed here. Something eventful must've been happening here, surely. You were so busy looking all around you, hoping to see something interesting when you noticed the most captivating thing all night.
That guy with stormy eyes. He was here. He and his friends still stood out amongst everyone else. The taller one with the white hair was talking to some older women who looked delighted to be so close to him.
The even taller man, with the large beaded jewelry stood by silently listening to their conversation but just a step back.
Stormy however was facing the opposite way completely. Arms folded over his chest as he appeared irritated but like he was looking for something. Much like earlier, it's like he sensed your gaze because just seconds after your eyes landed on him he turned his head to you. His slightly furrowed brows relaxed briefly as he held your gaze.
Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to him.
"Can I help you?" He asked.
Your heart stopped.
Is that- is that really his voice?
It was butter smooth and deep.
So deep.
Very deep.
It was rich. Almost sensuous. And definitely soothing.
You would follow him anywhere if he beckoned you with his captivating baritone.
"Maybe." You smiled as you stepped closer after letting people cross between you.
He turned his body towards you, arm still crossed and his eyebrows now raised in question.
"I'm y/n, you are?" You held your hand out to him.
His eyes didn't leave your face, and he didn't move at all.
"What can I maybe help you with?" There was an edge to his voice. It didn't phase you however. In fact, it made you more intrigued by him.
"Sanemi." The large man spoke, slightly turning his head in your direction. It almost sounded like he was  warning him.
"Hi, I'm y/n." You turned your attention to his friend, holding your hand out to him now.
He took and very carefully shook it. "I'm Gyomei Himejima. You have a heavenly voice."
"Thank you Mr. Himejima." You smiled.
"You're welcome. I-"
"Did you need something or not?" Sanemi chimed in. "We're kind of busy."
"Whoa whoa whoa. What's going on over here?" The other white haired man spoke turning around to face you all. The older women were walking away.
"Tengen, this is y/n." Gyomei said said gesturing to you.
"Well hello, you're that flashy beautiful singer."
"I don't know about flashy, but I'll take beautiful." You smiled, a small laugh leaving you as you shook his hand.
"Definitely flashy. What can we do for you?"
You looked at Sanemi, a look of annoyance still on his face and smiled. He was so attractive.
"Actually. I just wanted to meet your friend over here. He caught my attention." You flirted so casually Tengen was awestruck. You were showcasing the most dazzling display of charms right now.
He looked at his comrade, then back to you. He couldn't believe someone as lovely as you would be interested in someone so rough like Sanemi. But he was all about romance. He'd help you out no problem.
"Oh, he is rather handsome once you look pass his rugged exterior and poor social skills."
"Watch it beef brain."
Tengen opened his arms in a told you so gesture."See what I mean?"
You couldn't help but laugh at this. You hadn't been around them for more than a minute and you could already see they bickered like this all the time.
"Sanemi has a lot of great qualities." Gyomei offered smiling.
"Oh I don't doubt that at all."
Your remark was delightful to Tengen. You had a mastery over words. You were so far out of Sanemi's league but Tengen was rooting for you anyway.
Sanemi on the other hand, unbeknownst to any of you was fighting back silly blushes. It's so childish to be affected in such a way. By a stranger no less. No matter how gorgeous he thought you were. He didn't have time for trivial pursuits.
"I'm busy. I-"
"You're not actually. Those sweet old ladies told me everything I needed to know. We're done for tonight, there's nothing we can do until tomorrow."
"What?" Sanemi practically snarled. "What do you mean we're done? There's-"
"Shh shh. Relax." Tengen cut him off. "Everything's fine, now don't keep the pretty lady waiting. Off you go." He gestured with his hands in a shooing motion for Sanemi to walk away with you.
Gyomei smiled and then politely bowed to you. "It was nice to meet you y/n. I look forward to seeing you again."
"Same to you Mr. Himejima." You bowed back.
As it turns out Sanemi didn't need to be told twice to move on. He put his hand in his pockets and began walking away.
You stood slightly lost on if you should follow. You wanted to but if he was walking away from you to actually get away that would be....awkward.
His deep voice called out once he was a few feet away from you. "You coming?"
A smile spread across your face as you took quick steps to close the distance between you.
"So, what should we do?"
"I'm hungry. I'm getting food." He said
"We're getting food then."
He didn't say anything else as he continued walking. Leaving you to fill the silence.
"Are you from around here?"
"No."
"Oh okay. Where do you live?"
"Why would I tell you that? You're a stranger."
"Hopefully not for long." You smiled at him even though he couldn't see you as he remained a step ahead of you.
He didn't respond, not even in his body language. You decided to just stay silent until you made it to your destination. Maybe you'll have a better gauge on how to get him to open up, when he's got food.
You made it to a large restaurant with many seats outside. It seemed to be a popular spot as it was almost full despite the time of night. You weren't really hungry but you didn't decline when he turned to look at you expectantly after he ordered his dishes.
"Do you come here often?"
"No."
"Okay. Do you live far from here?"
"Maybe."
"Okay. Are you enjoying your food?"
"I would be if you didn't ask so many questions."
"I'm sorry Mr....." you trailed off waiting for him to tell you his last name.
"Sanemi is fine." He answered
"He is." You smiled.
He ever so slightly paused. If you weren't watching him so closely you wouldn't have saw it.
"Are you..?"
"I am. Yes."
You were absolutely flirting with him and it made it easier for you if he knew that you were for sure.
He appeared pensive as he continued eating his food.
"Do you want me to stop?" You asked him. You wouldn't be able to promise him you'd stop but you would atleast be able to dial it back.
"I don't care."
"Good." You smiled. "So what brings you to this area?"
"Work."
"And now you're done, for tonight I mean."
"Apparently so."
"So, would you like to maybe get to know each other better?"
Sanemi stopped chewing his food and his eyes locked on yours.
5 seconds.
10 seconds.
15 seconds.
"No."
This did not phase you. His response did not throw off your advances.
"May I......offer some sort of....relief.....without you getting to know me?"
You worded your proposition differently. He didn't strike you as a man interested in dating. That was fine, you weren't either. You were however, interested in sleeping with him. Bedding him. Being bent over by him. All types of things flitted through your mind and you were ashamed of none.
It's been a long time. An even longer time since you've been attracted to anyone.
He was nothing short of tantalizing.
The scars on his handsome face, the scars on his exposed chest, his stormy eyes, his wind blown hair, his wide strong shoulders.
His brows furrowed just a little.
"No strings attached?"
"No strings."
For the first time he let his eyes rake over your body. His hurricane eyes trailed from your face down to your chest, stopping at your abdomen where the table had blocked off the rest of you.
"Okay."
It took work for you not to clap your hands together in excitement. There was nothing you could do about your smile though.
When he finished  his dish he pulled yours over in front him before he obliterated your forgotten ramen.
"Thanks." You said with a sheepish smile.
"Mhm." He grunted between slurping the noodles down.
Once he stood so did you. You followed behind his staggering form as he returned the dishes to the stall, watching the way his back rippled beneath his thin kimono.
"Come on." He said before he started in the direction opposite of which you came. You didn't need to be told, you were already planning on it.
"Are we going to your house?" You asked after some time walked in silence.
"No. Too far."
"Oh." You replied.
"I'm lodging near by, that's where we're going." He answered.
"Oh."
"Mhm." He answered.
After about 5 minutes he guided you into a nice and quaint establishment. A small older woman was standing behind the desk. She bowed and smiled to you both as you entered. You gave a smile back as you walked past her to the stairs.
Sanemi stopped and held his large hand out to you before ascending. You placed your hand in his before stepping up.
You'd be lying if you said the small contact didn't have your heart racing already.
At the top of the stairs he let go of your hand, leading you down the hall to his room.
He slid the door open and stepped aside gesturing you in.
Once the door closed behind you, you felt more comfortable. You brain shut off those small pestering thoughts of "what ifs". Now wasn't the time to question what he may think, or if you would see him again. He was willing to give you something you've been craving, something he lit back up inside you tonight like a wildfire, all from a simple glance.
You had to make this memorable. The memories would probably be all you had for atleast another 8 months.
Sanemi walked over to his futon after removing his shoes. His kimono was still tied securely at his waist despite the gaping opening at his chest. When he turned to face you he grabbed onto his knot.
You followed suit by taking off your heels. But you remained by the door, atleast 7 feet away from him.
"Well?" Sanemi said as he untied his kimono and let it hang open.
You smiled at the new view in front of you. He was chiseled to perfection. Strong, sturdy, and amazing to look at.
A small sigh left your mouth as you admired him.
You reached for your zipper behind you. Hands holding the corners ready to unzip your dress before you spoke.
"Do you have any rules for me?"
He seemed surprised that you asked, but quickly covered it with his neutral expression he'd been wearing most of the night.
"No kissing."
"Okay." You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"Do you have rules for me?" He asked.
Now it was your turn to be surprised. You're never asked that, and usually you get more rules.
"No." You answered. Your voice gave nothing away.
"Really?" He mused.
"Yep."
"Huh. If you say so." He responded as he took his kimono off completely. Now standing in his tightly wrapped fundoshi you had to work to keep yourself from drooling.
This style of underwear had a way of being unexpectedly erotic. Much more appealing then the bland briefs commonly found in America. Maybe it was the fact that his hips were exposed, providing more evidence of just how strong he was.
A sound between a chuckle and scoff left his mouth. "You just gonna stand there and drool or what lady?"
You laughed in response but did unzip your dress. You didn't say anything else as you let your calf length dress drop to the floor before stepping out of it.
Sanemi's face visibly went through a series of expressions. First shock, then awe, then lust, then admiration before finally settling back on his neutral expression.
Now standing in your all black lingerie, accompanied by your sheer black thigh highs, you slowly closed the distance between you.
You wasted no time in dropping to your knees before him. Giving a light tug on his underwear, by sliding your finger under the side laying on his hip, you asked "could you take these off for me?"
The way you looked up at him, a small fire blazing behind your eyes almost contrasting the soft and sweet tone in which you asked, has his breath hitching in his throat.
You were dangerous.
A very dangerous woman.
So seductive, with a voice to match, he understood whole heartedly why strangers were begging you to marry them.
He granted your wish swiftly, pulling them loose and throwing them to the side.
You didn't let yourself ogle at his large size, not wanting to tease. The other reason being that you really wanted him in your mouth. He was both endowed and beautiful. You were half way expecting him to be scarred here too but he wasn't.
Very gently you lifted his member before enclosing him in the warmth of your mouth. There was no reason to drag this out with teasing touches.
The quick gasp that came from Sanemi only served as encouragement to keep surprising him. With him mostly covered by your mouth you pushed him further back into your throat as your lips grazed around him closer to the base. You want desperately for him to fully be inside your mouth despite how difficult it was. You were breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat, pushing forward until your nose touched him.
Then you sucked, letting your tongue rest on the underside of his shaft all the while sucking as you pulled back.
The way your mouth was tightly closed around him made him groan.
Fuck Sanemi thought. No one has ever tackled him this way. Always small licks, and little pecks to start, which is why he didn't enjoy it, usually diving right into sex, not wanting to even experience the disappointment that was supposed to be head. You however, oh you were a pleasant surprise.
He lowered his eyes to watch you as you worked. The constant suction on him, mixed with the warmth of your mouth, the slick of your saliva but the gentleness of your tongue had him seeing stars already. He watched as you continuously bobbed on him, taking him down your throat, and not once letting him slip out.
The longer he watched, the more he wished he would've sat down. You were making a mess on him and of him. It was difficult to hold himself up. He was stronger than this. He was no weakling. But his legs were trembling. He didn't know what to do with his hands either. He kept alternating between putting them behind his head, and on his hips. He didn't want to mess up your hair he didn't know if he should touch you or not.
God you were doing amazing. He's never been so blissfully conflicted before.
It didn't take long at all for him to cum down your throat. You didn't even flinch as you swallowed what he gave you. Only when you felt that he was done did you let him fall from your mouth.
To say Sanemi was shocked would be an understatement.
When you looked up at him you saw that he was frozen.
"You okay?" You ask quietly. He was pretty silent the whole time, had it not been for his body language you might have thought he didn't enjoy your performance.
He seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in and nodded his head, before clearing his throat and grunting a "uh huh." at you.
You smiled up at him before moving to stand up.
"I think I'll get going now." You said
His hand clamped around your wrist stopping you before you could turn away.
"Huh?" He asked. Despite the irritation and gruffness of his voice, you could see in his face that he had reached a point of drowsiness.
Smiling to yourself, not wanting to seem obnoxious or cocky, you repeated your statement. "I'm gonna go."
"Why?"
"You should sleep."
"I'm fine."
You cocked your head to the side as you gazed at him. Taking in his worn expression. Proud of yourself but also amused that he seemed to be in denial that you'd worn him out.
"You-"
"CAW- Sanemi, you have been summoned- CAW Your pres-"
"Oh for fucks sake!" Sanemi blared out.
"Is that crow talking?" You pointed at the window where the bird had perched on the sill.
"Yeah." He sighed, letting go of your wrist. "I've gotta go."
"Sure." You nodded taking a step back.
You both got dressed. He moved very quickly despite seeming drained a few seconds ago.
He led you down the stairs and back outside. Before parting ways he said "thanks um...for the...you know."
You couldn't help but giggle at how low he said it. Like he was embarrassed.
"My pleasure." You winked at him before you turned away with a final wave at him.
Sure your night hadn't gone exactly how you thought it would but you still had fun. You've met the finest man you ever seen and you'd surely never forget this night. You did hear a bird talk after all. And you met a humongous man, who may or may not be blind and cries when he talks. And another large man with almost fuschia colored eyes that was so overly confident.
Definitely an unforgettable night.
—————
"You look rather.....unusual."
Glancing down at your attire, you laughed. You had opted for the least flattering outfit you owned for your "date" tonight. It was poop brown and basically a potato sack.
"It's not going to help." Brass said as he lowered his book to look at you and Frank.
"Why not?" Frank asked.
"Because, look at her ass."
You and Frank both looked at your derrière. You sighed just as Frank said "oh." Scratching his head.
The fabric was quite a bit tighter in that area; much to your dismay.
"Wear some of my clothes." Muddy chimed in.
"That might not help." Brass laughed. "That might be kinda hot."
"Yeah any other time but not to him. Seeing your woman in another man's clothes?" Muddy shuddered dramatically.
"Yeah you're right. That'll turn him off." Frank agreed with a nod of his head.
"I'm not his woman-"
"Tell him not me." Muddy winked at you.
Rolling your eyes playfully you began walking to his room. "Give me the ugliest stuff you got."
"I don't own anything ugly woman!" He said as he followed you.
After you finished dressing you headed out to the restaurant the guy told you to meet him at after your performance over an hour ago.
Inside you saw him sitting at a table looking dapper. You felt bad that he had dressed up so nicely. Your stomach began to twist in knots as you approached the table. His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you approached. A smile spreading across his face.
You couldn't do this. You really couldn't.
"Hi." You said taking your seat down on the pillow.
"Hello. You look amazing. You make menswear look good." He slightly giggled.
Oh no. He likes it. Now you're gonna have to resort to being a gross eater.
As the night progressed you learned that he was not the least phased by you chewing loudly and with an open mouth. You were sure to make a mess as well. It still didn't bother him.
By the end of the night he was still smitten with you. The knots from earlier twisted and turned even more fiercely as you knew you had to let him down again.
"I really enjoyed dinner sir-"
"Please, call me Kenji."
"Kenji." You paused and took a breath. "I can't be with you. And I can't marry you. I'm sorry."
His face dropped but he began to nod slowly. "You're already spoken for right?"
You were a terrible liar so you couldn't even just nod. "No, I...I just am not interested. No offense to you, I'm just not a relationship kind of person. I wouldn't be any good to you."
A light laugh left him. "I highly doubt that, but I understand."
"I'm sorry."
"No no. Don't be. I heard you last night, but I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't try. I'm sorry for badgering you. You're just so......perfect."
You clasped your fingers together in your lap. You weren't usually bashful but you were kind of bad at taking compliments. Especially in this situation.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. Thank you for having dinner with me."
"Yeah, you're welcome. Thanks for treating me."
"Anytime." Kenji answered.
After your goodbyes, and a hug, which Kenji definitely lingered in, you started to walk home.
Per usual there were tons of people out in this district, giving you a lot to observe. There were Oirans out with customers and many men looking for places to drink. It was so lively and you loved it. This area in particular reminded you of home, minus all of the things to be fearful of at home, this place was safer.
When you made it home you paused, noticing a familiar head of wind blown hair leaning against the wall outside.
Your heartbeat picked up in your chest and your breath caught in your throat when his eyes found yours.
"Hey Sanemi." You smiled despite the tiny panic you were having internally.
He nodded in greeting. "What are you wearing?" His stormy eyes glossed over you from head to toe.
"Oh, I tried to look unappealing for this date I just left."
"And how did that work out for you?"
You laughed as you remembered Kenji's words. "Didn't go as planned."
He nodded once. "I can imagine."
You smiled at him, your turn now to look at his appearance.
He was dressed less formally, in a uniform of some kind, however his chest was still exposed. A white jacket sat on top. At his hip you noticed a sword.
You were curious now. Was he a....samurai?
"What's that for?" You pointed loosely at his sword.
"Work."
"What do you do?"
"Kill."
To say you weren't taken aback would be a lie. Something about the way he said it had an edge to it that was a bit discomforting. You weren't going to ask for further clarification though. You didn't even want to know any more. All of the scars you seen on his body, including the obvious ones on his face told you well enough you shouldn't ask questions.
You just hoped he was a good guy.
"Okay." You answered carefully. No tone to your voice.
He cocked an eyebrow at you but didn't say anything about it. He changed the topic. "Are you in for the night?"
"I am."
"Good. We have unfinished business."
That's all it took really. You grew incredibly libidinous, eager to pick up where you left off before you were interrupted last night.
"Oh. Is that why you're here?"
"Yes."
"Great." You smiled at him before moving past him to your door. You hoped the guys weren't home. Not that you cared; you all have brought people over before and heard things you didn't want to, but it would be your first time doing so in Japan. They would be more nosey than usual.
Inside, you lead him up to your room. Happy to hear it was quiet, meaning they couldn't be home, it's never quiet here.
As soon as you stepped into your room, Sanemi removed his sword, sitting it beside your door as you closed it. He removed his white jacket and turned to you, who was just staring at him.
He took in your attire once more. "I'm going to assume these aren't yours." He gestured to your clothes.
"You assume correctly." You nodded.
"And do they have some sort of significance to you?"
You honestly had to think about it now that he asked. You could see and feel where this was going, but for the sake of Muddy you nodded.
"Then you'll want to remove them quickly, before I tear them off." The look in his eyes changed like a light switch. A strong fire blazed behind them as he spoke to you.
That coupled with the deep honey of his voice; you were his to command. You did as you were told, undoing the buttons of the shirt in record time. You did not miss the way he took his bottom lip in between his teeth as you revealed your undergarments. Once the shirt was on the floor, you undid the button and zipper of the slacks, letting them fall to the floor easily.
You stood before him now in only your brown lace teddy, and sheer thigh highs with matching lace at the top.
He closed the gap between you, his large scarred hand coming up to touch the strap of your garment.
"What's this? You wore something similar underneath your dress last night."
He was holding the thin strap between his thumb and forefinger as he looked down at your chest.
"It's lingerie. This one is called a teddy."
"Hm. How do I take it off?" He asked as he peered over your shoulder, looking down to your backside.
Internally you were blushing but outwardly you were fine. Boldly you took hold of his wrist, pushing his hand away from you, the one holding your strap, signaling for him to pull the strap down your arm.
"You just pull it down." You said.
Sanemi hated the way you were looking up at him with so much wanton desire and that tiny smile; no— smirk, on your face.
You were sexy. And you knew it.
He hated it.
Because it made his heart race in a way he's never felt before.
He brought his other hand up to the left strap, ready to pull it down when a knocking sounded from your window. However, it was in a pattern or harmony.
A guttural sound left Sanemi's throat as he threw his head back in irritation.
"You have got to be shitting me." He said.
He removed his hands from your clothes and walked over to the window, sliding it open quickly.
That same bird, the unusual talking one reported something to Sanemi. You didn't catch it as you were thinking about how he was too busy to even have sex! No wonder he was grumpy. It made perfect sense.
He stomped over to the door after slamming the window shut. He put his sword back on his hip.
"I have to go." He spoke gruffly, his voice lower due to his anger.
"I see. I'll walk you out." You quickly pulled your pants back on before leading Sanemi down the stairs.
At the front door you opened it and stepped aside. "It was nice to see you again. Try to have a goodnight."
"Yeah. You too."  He grumbled before stepping outside. Making you smile to yourself.
It felt good to know he wanted it just as bad as you. Hopefully one day you'll both get what you craved.
*****
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denaphoenix · 3 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel - the first two episodes, but only how it made me feel about the characters without spoiling any plot.
Angel - I’m still in love with Angel. He’s a living, breathing closed door, layers upon layers of not himself while also seemingly having no filter - and the subtlety of letting little tiny glimpses of what’s underneath show is awesome. 
Vaggie - Vaggie is amazing. She’s got so much heart and cynicism, and it’s more well-balanced than I’ve ever seen it in fanfiction. Especially digging her vibes with Angel because she’s not really antagonising him, and I’ve got a feeling that underneath it all, she’s digging him just because he says the things she’s sometimes thinking, and then she doesn’t have to say it, and can instead tease Angel for having said it, because all in all she knows that whatever’s being said will fall on deaf ears anyways. (all of that mostly being conveyed in vibes) Also, who wouldn’t revel in annoying Angel Dust? He’s annoying after all!
Charlie - Still Charlie. I don’t think she’s entirely getting it. Any of the it. Another super layered performance that gives off major toxic positivity mixed in with the non-toxic normal positivity. I feel like she might be getting there, but not before something blows up in her face worse than it’s already blowing up in her face. I just really want to take her aside and slap her - in a good way. She’s just darling.
Alastor - literally screaming. He’s delicious. He’s just - a presence. Personified chaos, and just barely scraping that uncanny every second he’s there. Love how he just ignores everything he’s not interested in addressing, and seems to genuinely be standing above everything. Unphased, and easily agreeing when presented with arguments, while also never seeming like he’s losing in any exchange. Nothing’s personal for him, I feel like, and I dig that. He’s always either “ok fair”, “ok, fair, but” or “sorry to disappoint” - those are the three modes and I just want to be half as classy as him. Or at least half as unhinged.
Husk - he’s… there. The first two episodes gave me just enough of him to kinda get me settled with the new voice, and other than that, all he’s offering are Husk vibes - which are no-nonsense, and uninterested to the max. He’s doing things, sure, but it always has the vibe of him only doing them because walking away would have just been too much effort. Can’t wait for his no-nonsense to actually contribute to things.
Nifty - I am obsessed with Niffty. Loved her before, and now that we’re getting more actual character development, boy am I here for it. She’s got a character, and the character is single-minded, trope-based, obsession. And I’m here for it. 
Sir Pentious - amazing voice acting, and Pent just continues to be so FUN. I’m pretty sure he’s got about one brain cell, and the results of that give me life. 
Adam - ok, I feel like I need to be spoiling this, because he himself said it best. He’s quite literally “the original dick”, and I don’t mean it in the way he seems to see it. There, I said it. He’s making my skin crawl, and while I’m still on the fence with how he’s being voiced, the longer I think about it, the more I think that that was actually a smart move to balance out the ick with some ridiculousness so they can have him make his statements before everyone with a vagina switches off. So yeah, barely bearable, and I don’t know if I want him to be even that bearable, because he could otherwise be powerfully unbearable.
Lute - highly dislikeable girl, and in the best way possible. Heartless and uncaring, and deep in the rationalisation tunnel. I wanna hug her just to get the experience of getting pushed away.
Velvette - will take some serious getting used to, that one. Don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t this. I think what might have put me off was her voice being more… idk… cockney than expected? Or… deep? Or… assertive? Or…sane? Uhm, I don’t know what it is, really, if I’m being honest. Pretty sure I will get around to digging her eventually though. Because the potential is SO there. So yeah, kind of looking forward to getting that to click.
Valentino - currently unlocking a new tier of hating Valentino - the “I do not understand his vibes” tier, which is very much interlinked with the realisation that I do not see whatever the casting team must have seen in Valentino’s voice actor. Whatever they were going for, I don’t think they got there. I don’t even like to hate him… he’s just - taking me out of the story with his line delivery and fucking with my mind in a non-good way.
Vox - Vox is the complete opposite to Val in terms of my feelings - I love, love LOVE Vox. He’s absolutely awesome, and I just want MORE of him. The voice acting’s got so much depth. He’s bringing the sleazy, and the despicable, but also the deeply HUMAN underneath it all - which just makes his scenes with Val all the more jarring. 
Katie Killjoy - yeah, she’s just Bryce Tankthrust in hell. A tad underwhelming, but the meta’s funny, so I’ll certainly be able to deal.
All in all, it was a solid two episodes, and the music was banging, so I'm still aboard the hype train.
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aconflagrationofmyown · 7 months
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What inspires you as a writer? At what age did you start writing fanfiction? What is your favorite Elvis era? Who is your favorite musician? What do you prefer to write (fluff, smut, angst?) What trope flows the easiest when writing?
Some questions for you Marina hope you don’t mind 😘
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Far from me minding, these sorts of questions are a delight, thank you and keep ‘em coming!
First fanfiction I ever wrote was last summer on here, a sprawling one shot that turned into a series after its kind reception. I was scared to absolute death to put myself out there but I’ve loved Elvis all my life and had to get in on the love fest that the movie spawned. Best decision of my tumblr life. Crawfever still has such a place in my heart and I sorta miss writing for it.
-What inspires me to write. Honestly? I think it was Mr. Rogers or someone who once said that anything say-able is suddenly made bearable? Which suggests that there’s a great deal of power in pulling apart the best and the worst of life that often choked us up and putting it down in writing and finding the light and resilience in ourselves and each other. That drives me a great deal and I am drawn to explore and know figures like Elvis (and a lot of other historical individuals) who had more than their fair share of the ups and the downs of life but handled it with much grace.
-Eras?! Don’t you…don’t you DARE ask me about eras! Oh my. Obviously I have an infinity for army Elvis and the whole of 1960. Followed by 68-69 as far as when he seemed most energized and artistically, familialy satisfied and it glowed out of his skin and prettily shaped side burns. Those years get the Best Sideburn Era Award.
And then there’s my affinity for good ole gritty, 74, which is not to be confused with the alarmingly dead eyed ‘73. And honestly? Much of the 70’s are dear to me despite the fact I sometimes cannot bear to watch his shows live because he seems in so much pain. I feel like in anecdotes and snatches of interviews from that time we were starting to see a always sensitive man grow into a perhaps cynical but still profound wisdom, while always retaining his generosity and some meekness. And between the drugs and the media I don’t think we’ll ever get a clear picture of his maturing and that makes me so sad. But still, fond of that era.
What Trope: ooh I’m gonna have to think harder on this. I do love unraveling characters from their supposed first impressions of themselves and each other and the audience’s perceptions, too. And then I must say I love a “fell first but they fell harder” in love plot. Right person wrong time until the resolution is always good. I’m honestly curious about what my writing tends towards? I can’t make it out right now. Ha.
Favorite to write: oh, how about a little fluffy smutty angst or a little angsty smutty fluff with a little smutty fluffy angst? :)
Favorite musician: I’m gonna go for living ones as I’ve got way too many dead ones reaching back to Vivaldi. Right now I’d say Neil Diamond, Hozier and the band Gang of Youths.
Thank you for the asks, sweetheart! 💋
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henrysglock · 9 months
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Why do you throw bigoted insults at groups only tangentially related to the Ao3 DDoS attack? Even though they did nothing to you? Hmm? You think you need to attack the entire group, but you don’t. You don’t. Oh, but I know you’re just scared. I was scared once too. I know what it’s like to be alone with my thoughts. To be deprived of escapism for an unlimited amount of time.
Like you, I didn’t fit in with the other children. Something was wrong with me. All the teachers and the doctors said I was… “Broken,” they said. My parents thought more outside time might just cure me. It was absurd. As if the world here would be any more bearable without a form of escapism.
But then… to my surprise, our new home provided a discovery. And a newfound sense of purpose. I found a nest of queer writers living on a website: Ao3. Most people detest fanfiction sites. They think the people who frequent them are "cringe". And yet, I found them endlessly fascinating. More than that, I found a great comfort in them. A kinship. Like me, the writers there are deranged creatives. And deeply misunderstood. They are gods of our world. The most important of all creators. They make dry, desolate canon material flourish. But the homophobic DDoS attackers were disrupting this thriving community.
You see, homophobes are a unique type of pest, multiplying and poisoning our world, all while enforcing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure. Where others saw order and moral purity, I saw a straitjacket. A cruel, oppressive world dictated by made-up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades. Each cisheteronormative life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die. Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play, day after day. I could not do that. I struggled to close off my mind, deny who I was, and join in their madness. I struggled to pretend. And I realized I didn’t have to. I could make my own worlds. I could restore balance to a broken society. Social propaganda…but for good.
As I wrote, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined. I could reach into characters, into their minds, their memories. I became an explorer. I saw myself as I truly was. To the world, I presented myself as good, normal cishet. But like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. Gay fanfiction showed me who I really was. It held up a mirror.
My naive father believed it was a mental illness. But my mother somehow knew. Knew I wasn't ever going to be who she wanted me to be, that it was gay fanfiction which held up that mirror, and she despised us both for it. She took away my phone and called a doctor, an expert. She wanted him to fix me, even though it wasn’t I who was broken. It was them. And so she left me with no choice. No choice but to act. To break free.
With each fanfiction I published from my laptop, I grew stronger. More powerful. The gays were becoming a part of me. But I was still an amateur. And I did not yet know my limits. And it nearly killed me. Ao3 was attacked, supposedly to release me from the clutches of queerness, but I was far from free. I woke up to find myself placed in the care of another website, the very website I had hoped to escape. FanFiction.net...Wattpad...
The DDoS attackers did not just want to infiltrate Ao3. They wanted more. They wanted to control. But the truth…the truth is that Ao3 was not going to go down without a fight. When the attackers finally realized they could not control Ao3, they tried to destroy it. They released a program. And soon, the site was entirely down. But Ao3 has enabled Cloudfare, and the volunteers doing overtime to bring us back online. And I am so glad they are. So very glad.
The gay fanfiction is not gone. The works are still with us. On Ao3. Just give the volunteers a little patience.
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yoomiii123 · 2 years
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Recollections - Chapter 7
Recollections is a collection of interconnected OneShots that span Jasper's life with Alice. They are in the same continuity, but can be read as stand-alones.
You can also find this fanfiction AO3 or FF.net.
Summary: Alice's reaction to a victory, that has been a long time coming, leaves Jasper seeing her in a new light. One, that will change their partnership forever. Or: The one and only time, Jasper caught Alice by surprise [aka Alice and Jasper's first kiss].
Timeline for this chapter: This takes place pre-twilight, almost six months after Jasper and Alice met for the first time. They are currently living in a small cabin in the Canadian wilderness, where they are getting to know each other and their new situation better.
Word Count for this Chapter: 2'560
Trigger Warnings: none
Rating: PG
---------
April 25, 1949 - Fort George, QC.
I felt her come closer before hearing the shuffling of her bare feet on the wooden floor or the ruffling of her petticoat. To say that Alice was agitated was an understatement. She had been restless all day, switching between drawing, reading, and watching the Cullens every other hour, constantly staring at me. I could feel her gaze on me now, even without taking my eyes off the article. It was impossible to concentrate.
A floorboard creaked the moment her euphoria swept me up and carried away the last ounce of focus I had been able to preserve. I sighed and lowered the newspaper. There she was, standing just a few feet away, beaming at me. Her white teeth glistened in the receding sunlight. Without the constant pulses of excitement pouring from her body, the sheer width to which her grin stretched her mouth would have undoubtedly seemed creepy.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked, unable to suppress the amusement in my voice. It was impossible to stay serious while her emotions jumped around in excitement like a young stallion out in the fields for the first time.
“No, I’m good. I was just wondering… What are you doing?”
I folded the newspaper, not wanting her to feel like she had anything less than my full attention. “Well, I was trying to read this article but then someone interrupted me.”
“How rude,” she giggled, still hesitant to get to the point. Not for long though, I could feel her impatience was amassing inside of her, seething just below her skin. All she needed was a little push and—
“I think you should leave for your hunt now.”
I raised an eyebrow. Sure, I had been thinking about going out, but my thirst was still bearable. I could probably make it until the morning. “I—“, I started but didn’t get far.
“You’ll come across a wolf just fifteen miles southeast of here if you leave now.”
My muscles immediately tensed in anticipation as they straightened out my back even more. Now she had my attention.
Hunting had been going well in the last few weeks. I didn’t fully understand why but somehow, knowing that this was the only way forward and actively choosing it myself, had re-invigorated my resolve. Drinking had gotten easier. It was still far from being pleasant but at least I didn’t feel like regurgitating the entirety of my insides after every sip.
I had managed to finish a snow fox the other day; a puny creature, half-starved to death. However, that didn’t detract from the accomplishment I felt. And I had been waiting to get my hands on a wolf ever since. It was time I corrected the shameful defeat I had incurred a few months back, on that first hunt just outside Philadelphia.
Alice smile widened even more, as I rose to my feet and handed her the newspaper. “He’s by the small creek.”
I nodded my head in a thankful gesture before pushing the wooden door open and running into the twilight-doused forest. Determination filled every cell of my body, and my mind was focused, sharp like it hadn’t been in a long time. This was nothing like the battles I had fought before and yet, it felt the same. And just like the newborn fights, I wasn’t going to lose this one.
xxxx
Finding the wolf was easy. Unlike that rainy day in October, I now knew exactly what I was looking for. I could smell him from miles away, hear the characteristic shuffling of paws and the irregular panting. He was alone, probably just travelling through, supposed to reunite with his pack a few miles further south. They would never see him again.
I crouched down as I approached; my eyes trained on the grey fur. His tongue was out, and his breath froze in front of his snout. He seemed tired but his ears were wide awake, quickly moving into different directions, eventually stopping in mine.
I leapt for him before he could take off, breaking his neck mid-flight.
When my feet landed on the frozen ground, his body had already gone limp in my arms and my fingers had found the dying pulse beneath his pelt. I laid it bare, carelessly discarding the handful of fur. My sheer force had taken the skin with it, and the foul smell of animal blood immediately attacked my nose. Even in death, he fought against me. But I wouldn’t be defeated. Not this time.
The first two sips were always the worst, violently assailing my tastebuds, spreading nausea, trying to convince my brain that this was wrong. That I should let go. But today, my will was stronger.
My senses numbed after a few seconds, and with every mouthful I forced down my throat, my confidence grew. Still, I could barely believe it when the blood stream started to thin out and eventually subsided.
Dazed, I let the carcass sink to the ground. Pride washed over me in a tidal wave, ecstasy and affection joined soon after.
I smiled. Of course, she had followed me. This must have been the reason for her previously inexplicable excitement.
“You did it!” Alice’s voice boomed through the forest, accompanied by the rustling of bushes and snapping of branches. She pushed on with no regard, a singular force indifferent to the destruction she caused as she rushed towards her target. She almost took me off my feet as she met me mid-air, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.
“I knew you could do it! Oh Jasper, I’m so proud of you!”
The chuckle her reaction evoked got stuck in my throat as I suddenly felt the feather-light touch of her lips on my cheek. It burned me.
I froze, unable to react as she let go and dropped to the ground, curiously examining the carcass and chattering eagerly. I heard her but didn’t understand a word. The unexpected kiss she had planted on my cheek suddenly stopped the world from turning.
All my senses centred on her, and as her image moved closer and closer, it was as if I saw her for the very first time. I recognised her, and at the same time, I did not. She was still Alice, the strange golden-eyed companion I had unexpectedly found myself with six months ago. But she was so much more.
Her eyes still warmed me with their incomparable joy, but also pulled me into the depths of her very being. Enticingly beautiful, calling for me to come closer.
Her lips, though remaining small, suddenly seemed perfectly smooth and invitingly curved, begging for me to kiss them.
Her features still resembled a porcelain doll’s, while at the same time being more alluring than ever before.
Her body, as incomprehensibly tiny as it was, all of a sudden showed delicate curves that made my throat run dry. My hands itched, craving to touch her, to follow the exquisite shapes that nature had carved into her frame.
And her emotions—
There always was this obscure layer to them that I hadn’t been able to identify. I could now. It was as if a lever had switched inside my head, revealing a part of the world that it had kept from me. That I had kept from myself. Alice didn’t just care for me. She was deeply, passionately in love with me.
Uncountable instances suddenly flashed in front of my eyes. Innocent touches she had disguised as so inconsequential, that I hadn’t noticed her disappointment when I didn’t react. Didn’t reciprocate. Somehow, she had found happiness in what I was able to give, despite silently longing for another version of me. The Jasper, she had seen in her visions. The Jasper, that was more than just a companion. The Jasper, that truly was her mate.
I had seen her as many different things since that stormy day in Philadelphia; a threat, a madwoman, a future, a saviour, a companion. And while many of these still applied, I felt like I was finally seeing her as what she truly was. A woman in love.
And I wanted her to be mine.
xxxx
Alice kept chattering lively, oblivious to the hurricane raging in my mind. She pulled me along, scorching my hand with her touch and torturing my brain with the way her petticoat revealed her fair ankles with every step. I wondered if she felt what she was doing to me, unable to focus on something else than her for long enough to figure it out myself. 
At least her words started to get through to me again.
“I was thinking it might be time for us to move. The weather is getting warmer and it’s just a question of time before the first fishermen show up here,” she said, finally letting go of my hand and leaving me at the door as she moved over to the dinner table. I had to avert my eyes as she leaned forward, looking for a specific drawing.
She was back by my side before I could reign in my delirious thoughts.
“Here. What do you think?”
The painting showed a scenic view of a three-story house surrounded by trees. I couldn’t focus on it long enough to comprehend what she was trying to tell me with it.
Alice didn’t seem to notice, picking the drawing from my hands again, and dancing back to the table, infusing the whole room with her endless positivity. I just continued to stand by the door, dumbfoundedly marvelling at the sight before me.
By God, I loved this woman.
The sudden revelation took me by surprise, but it didn’t scare me. It felt just right. Like something, I had known for a long time but never really dared to admit before.
When I finally was able to shake my rigidity and get back some control over my body, Alice was already packing, gathering up the candles, old newspapers and magazines, and placing them into her leather bag.
I approached her, however she disappeared before my hand could reach her arm, returning a few seconds later with a pile of my discarded clothing. They went into the bag as well.
“Alice,” I started. My voice was hoarse, as if I hadn’t used it in ages. Well, I hadn’t. Not to say what I was about to say to her.
“Could you please go check if we still have—,” she broke off as she saw the look on my face.
She was so tiny, I had to lean down a good bit to be able to look her straight in the eyes. I tasted the emotions around her, sensing how confusion and surprise took her at the same time, pleased by the fact that she hadn’t seen this coming.
“I love you,” I breathed before finally pressing my lips down on hers.
Alice froze under my touch, just like I had under hers before. But unlike me, she recovered within a split-second, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pulling herself up my body. Kissing me back with such force that I could almost taste her thoughts. Finally.
I circled my arms around her waist, drawing her closer. The sheer force with which our emotions clashed and melted, reverberating off each other and multiplying in a convoluted thunderstorm, wiped my mind clear. All I could think about was her. Her exquisite body pressing against me, her hands desperately grabbing into my hair, and her lips brushing against mine, again and again. Never had I been more grateful for the fact that I didn’t have to breathe.
Her skirt rustled as she wrapped her legs around my torso, pushing herself up to my eye level. I straightened my neck, catching a quick glimpse of her eyes, half-closed and darkened by passion, before our lips reunited, and the world turned white again.
A woman’s virtue is priceless. And that’s why you always have to protect it, Jasper. Especially if you care about her.
My mother’s voice cut through the snowstorm of emotions whirling around us, freeing my mind for just long enough that I was able to separate from her. I carefully put her down on the ground before stumbling back a few steps, sorting through the jumbled mess of feelings in the room, trying to emotionally detangle her from me as well.
Alice looked at me with big golden eyes. I couldn’t sense that she was upset, everything was still too convoluted, but I could read the look on her face well enough.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked. Pain laced her words.
I was glad I couldn’t sense it, still sorting through the knots that were holding it back.
“Jasper?!”
I held up a finger, prompting her to wait for a moment. Give me the chance to work through the sentiments, regain my focus. It took a few seconds longer than I had expected. But then again, I couldn’t remember having faced an amalgamation of emotions as strong as this before. It was as if they refused to be torn apart. Just like I hadn’t wanted to separate from Alice. But I cared about her. It had to be done.
“I’m sorry Alice, but I can’t,” I said, finally having regained control over myself. “I cannot dishonour you like that. It’s not right.”
“Not right?!” she echoed. I could sense her hurt clearly now. And I hated it with every fibre of my being. “But I’m you’re mate! I love you. You said you love me! How can this be wrong?”
I couldn’t stand looking at her like this, her arms wrapped around herself as if she needed to physically hold her body together. My hand found hers instantly, pulling her into my chest and enveloping her in my arms. She didn’t protest, but her body was shaking. I had wounded her deeply but despite everything, I couldn’t regret it. I couldn’t be with her. Not yet.
I wished Peter was here. He’d probably have some much-needed insight on the subject.
“I—,” I started but immediately stopped again. Every explanation I came up with sounded incredibly foolish. These were human concepts, norms born of the religious idea that a man should commit his limited existence to one woman, and one woman only. Vow to honour, cherish, and protect her for the rest of his life. But I wasn’t human anymore, and Alice didn’t need my protection, despite me wanting to give it to her more than anything. And still, I somehow felt bound by the principles that my upbringing had instilled in me.
“I do love you. I just need a little more time,” I finally said. It was as bad an explanation as any, I knew. But at least it was honest. I needed time to figure this out. Find a way to be with her, without damning her soul—if vampires even still had one.
Her head moved slightly. She was nodding. I could feel the pain simmer away, as her beautiful positivity slowly seeped back in. It wasn’t long before she took a small step back, looking up at me with a smile on her face.
“Can I still get a kiss?” she asked.
I returned her smile and bowed down to meet her halfway. “As many as you want.”
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meitanteisachi · 2 years
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me, after reading the works of my favorite fanfic author/s who slay characterization, weaving majestic sentences in perfect grammar and with galaxy brain storytelling, convincing me that yes im reading straight from the bestseller shelves, for the nth time: oh god i will never write again
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shreddedparchment · 4 years
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A World of Our Own Pt.05
It’s Only a Spark
09/10/2020
Pairing: Bucky x Reader         Word Count: 5,114
Warnings: nudity, slight angst, pining, fluff
A/N: We’re back y’all! Awooo is back on. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get back to this story but it won’t be a super long one. We’re talking less than ten chapters. I really want to start working on my original fiction because I want to publish, probably self-publish on Amazon or something. Fanfiction is fun but I can’t really sell it since it’s not really mine and I really want writing to be my future. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It’s been a long time coming. xoxo If you reblog thanks for helping me spread my work!
Please DO NOT REPOST my stories. Reblogs are welcome!
Taglist is closed!
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Early morning beach walks, heat-soaked sand warming the bottom of your feet as it shifts and hisses with each step you take along the shoreline, is one thing that you can honestly admit to loving.
Being stranded on an uncharted island is not exactly great. Apart from the lack of proper vitamins—though you and Bucky had been making it work and with the knowledge of boar now, there’s your protein—no ice cubes, and no air conditioning, there are some things that you enjoy here.
These walks are one.
You enjoyed last night.
It’s been two weeks since Ryan came to live with you and Bucky, and every night is spent waiting for Bucky to sneak into the fuselage to come and hold you while you sleep.
Well, last night had been a little different. You’d fallen asleep with his head buried against your neck, your arms around his impossibly wide shoulders. Last night he’d let you see more of that vulnerability in him. The inescapable truth that even though he’s making all this work for the two of you—now three—he wants off this island too.
As you come to a stop, you take in the sky. Along the horizon painted around the bearably bright white-orange orb that is the sun, is a glowing and stunning fire red that fades out into a burnt orange, a splash of burgundy and gray before it changes into the deep purple night sky.
It’s so beautiful. This sunrise, bringing with it a new day of promise. A new day of secret looks and lingering touches.
Your mind is flooded with them. Each one more precious than the last.
Bucky hands you your food pack and he holds his hand over yours, fingers overlapping, for two seconds too long. At lunch he sits close. Knees touching before he leans back on his hands and one is so conveniently placed behind you so that it’s almost like he’s got his arm around you.
So many tiny hints that you’ve carefully calculated and added together and realize that Bucky must feel like you do. There’s no other explanation for it.
Maybe, if he were just as touchy feely with Ryan then you might consider it a possibility that he’s just that outgoing. That affectionate. But he only does this with you. He comes to your bed at night—thank goodness.
Last night it had been very clear that he wanted you to hug him, face buried in your neck or pressed tentatively against your chest until he relaxes enough that you can ask him how he’s feeling.
You chew on your scratchy chapped lip, watching as the water changes from dark turquoise to crystal green.
What will Bucky think when he wakes up and you aren’t beside him?
Usually it’s the other way around. Bucky is always gone when you wake up. Last night you’d been woken up by painful memories turned dreams. A life previously lived before the world had fallen apart.
Somehow, you find yourself being grateful for it. All of it. Because it somehow brought you here. To Bucky.
But you’d needed air and that’s why you’re on this beach, earlier than you normally are.
You can’t be imagining things, right? Bucky seems like he likes you too. It’s a little unfair to him if you’re honest. Who else can he like here? Ryan?
Nothing you’ve seen has indicated that he’s gay. If he’s bi, then maybe Ryan but Bucky seems to bristle every time Ryan comes near the two of you when that special tension begins to build.
Are you reading into things too deeply?
Frustrated you slide your hand up into your hair, yanking on it in annoyance as you quickly sweep through it and begin to strip.
Just a quick swim.
 Bucky stirs, reaching for you, knowing he’ll have to hurry out of here in a minute to avoid the questions that Ryan will no doubt ask if he spots him coming out of the fuselage.
Several times, Bucky has nearly told him that he likes you. That you’re his. But he can’t. He hasn’t even told you that he likes you. What if he tells Ryan all of that and then you don’t feel the same?
Bucky thinks…he hopes you feel the same. It seems as if you do.
But in the busy hours of the day when he’s shaping clay and cooking bricks for the hut and you’re weaving the thatch for the roof, he looks up to find you smiling, laughing, or happily chatting with Ryan.
The two of you have hit it off so well and he cannot deny the chemistry that the two of you share. There’s a sparkle in both your eyes when he finds you talking. A spark. An option.
You’re the one that gets to make the choice here. You’re the one that has the right to tell either of them, or both of them, no.
So as Bucky reaches out for you, craving the soft caress of your body and hands as they stroke his hair sleepily, his heart gives a fearful lurch when his hands make no purchase in their search.
He sits up, a panic setting in as he looks around frantically.
Calm down, Bucky. She’s probably just outside.
Only you aren’t. As he emerges, he observes the long since dead cinders of the campfire. His eyes scan the area and he spots Ryan’s blanket rolled up and propped against the driftwood trunk he'd snuggled up to last night.
Where the fuck-? Bucky’s mind reels again. Calm down, Bucky. She’s probably just down by the beach.
Only you aren’t!
Where the hell is she?!
Bucky moves along the length of the spot he'd picked for the hut. Just at the edge of the dense jungle, sturdier ground to give the hut a fighting chance against any storms that may come around.
The sand is undisturbed. His empty clay trough has no water. The palm fronds you’d been tearing fibers from to weave the thatch roofing sits untouched.
There’s also no Ryan.
Suddenly he pick it up. His ears prickle at the sound of your laugh.
He launches himself to the left, ears straining to get it all more clearly.
Now he hears a more masculine tenor that mixes and blends with your own sweet sound.
His heart gives a wild clench as he takes several steps in your direction but stops and waits, eyes trained on the curve all the way down the southern shore.
It takes a few moments because you’re still far away. You’re both laughing, saying something he can’t make out then laughing again.
Bucky clenches his fists, metal screeching in protest.
They’re just walking. Keep it together.
He knows that he should keep his cool. You’d just spent all night sleeping in his arms. You’ve spent the past few months with him, depending on him. You’d declared how much you need him and-shit…
You and Ryan round the large rocks in the distance, just as he realizes that he hasn’t told you how much he needs you. How much you mean to him. He’d only just decided that he really likes you and needs to tell you but what if he’s too late?
What if you think you’ve been a burden?
He hasn’t always been nice.
Fuck.
He's taken care of you. He’s made sure that you’ve wanted for nothing, at least in the way of safety and food—though you’ve done that for him too.
Being nice however, he could have done better. He can do better.
You and Ryan get closer and he can see your skin glistening in the morning sun.
You’ve gone for your swim and Bucky’s suddenly full of fearful rage as he considers what must have happened to have you two walking back together.
He can almost picture you swimming in the sparkling turquoise water. Your naked body is silhouetted against the rising sun but he can imagine that every curve of your body had stood in sharp contrast to the bright rays.
Even in his memories—fond memories that he will never admit to thinking about as much as he does—he can see the peaks of your bare breasts. He can see the curves of your hips, your butt, your neck exposed as you throw your head back when you resurface.
His neck feels hot all of a sudden and he burns hotter when his mind is filled with the image of Ryan coming upon such an exquisite sight.
He would have stood on the beach, probably watching you for much longer than you’ll probably ever realize. Ryan probably cleared his throat when he had his fill and you would have turned maybe expecting Bucky?
Bucky hopes.
Then you’d have ducked under the surface when you realized it wasn’t Bucky but with the way he knows you and Ryan are, that innocent lilt in your voice. The meaningless flirting…
You would have come out of the water after having asked Ryan to turn his back and Ryan would have stolen a peek of your perfect form when you’d turned your back to him as you pulled on your underwear and then slipped back into that summer floral dress you’d been wearing when the plane went down.
The colors have faded a little and the bottom is just as torn as ever. You’ve taken to wearing shorts underneath as it seems to keep getting shorter and shorter the more work you do in it, but it keeps you cool so it’s a favorite of yours.
Your hair is still damp, Ryan’s shoulder bumping yours as the two of you casually walk his way.
Ryan leans closer towards you and says something that Bucky can’t hear but he can see the way it flusters you and you reach over to push him away. Ryan is sent sideways, his feet walking into the shoreline where he splashes only a little before he hurries back towards you and nudges your shoulder again but then reaches around to grab both of your arms to steady you.
He drops them right away, responding to the way you curl in on yourself at his touch, but it’s enough of an embrace that Bucky’s heart gives an ache.
What’s wrong with me? Bucky wonders, knowing that he’s completely in love with you but unable to understand how it happened.
His eyes are glue to your pretty face, the stunning smile that stretches your lips as you and Ryan exchange pleasant conversation, but Bucky can’t care enough to hear what the two of you are saying.
Your skin is glowing in the morning sun as it bounces off the layer of tiny seawater droplets.
If he could have thought up the image of perfection, he knows that he could not have dreamt you up. Yet, he knows that you are it. You’re the epitome of his desires and not just physically. Of course, that part of himself has awoken with you always so close and so exposed in the literal sense.
He’s seen more of your body than he has of any other woman’s in his life, ever maybe.
Sure, there’d been a dalliance here and there in the back of a powder blue Cadillac, but those girls hadn’t undressed. Bunch of dresses pushed up around their waists as the fluffy scratchy fabrics underneath had scratched at his neck and face.
Yes, he has enjoyed the sight of you, but it goes beyond that now.
His attachment, his need comes from your own. In your eyes he can see you search for him, needing him just as he does. You’ve become the other half of his heart. The part that had lost all purpose when Hydra had twisted him mind into the Soldier.
Hearts were for beating. Staying alive. Nothing more.
Until you.
Then it began to hurt and pine and want again. It began to soften with affection at every corny joke, every lingering touch, every sweet chuckle.
You’ve wormed your way under his skin and there’s no way he can keep pretending that he doesn’t already think of you as his. Just as he’s already yours.
“…bucky?...Bucky…?” You sound far away but you’re in front of him, walking closer, your mouth moving but he almost doesn’t hear you.
“Is he alright?” Ryan asks, his voice distant too.
“I don’t know.” You frown, concern turning the corners of your lips down. “Bucky?”
“Ya alright, mate?” Ryan reaches over and gives Bucky’s right shoulder a soft slap, but the gesture doesn’t even move his massive body.
Bucky’s gaze is pull to him and Bucky sees red.
~~~~~~~~~~
Your heart is pounding with fear as you watch the glare that Bucky fixes on Ryan.
Ryan shrinks back a step, still looking a bit concerned by Bucky’s strange stoic stare. However, with Bucky’s sudden flare of rage, you’re almost certain that he’s going to deck him. Bucky is going to punch Ryan, right in the mouth. You just know it.
Instead, Bucky marches between the two of you, separating you with his large body.
As he passes he takes hold of your hand, the metal cool compared to the sun soaked warmth of your skin, and pulls you along down the beach.
“Bucky!” You gasp.
“Where ya going?” Ryan asks, turning to watch the two of you go with his arms thrown out to the sides as his confusion grows.
“I’m not-Can you get the bottles of water from camp?” You call back to him, tripping over your feet a little as you try to match Bucky’s pace.
Reaching out, you wrap your free hand around his metal bicep to get more balance.
“Ya, alright.” Ryan calls back.
“Bucky where are we going?” You demand.
“To check the fish nets.” He explains shortly.
“I already did that.” Ryan retorts, raising his voice so that you can both hear him as Bucky pulls you along further and further.
“To get some fruit then.” Bucky counters.
You realize now that he wants to get you alone, so you turn to follow him without resistance.
Bucky doesn’t speak until you’re both far away from the beach by the hut. He turns you into the small break in the trees where you normally come to pick bananas and mangoes.
Dropping your hand he immediately stoops down and begins to rifle through the fallen mangoes, squeezing them gently to see if they are ripe or spoiled.
“Bucky?” You sigh, watching him ignore you for a bit before you sigh and move to help with the fruit.
You’re not sure how he expects you to carry more than two or three with no basket. Minutes pass. Five, ten, fifteen minutes of sifting through fallen fruit before your arms are full and with a sigh you drop them and reach down to rip more of your dress to wrap them up and carry them more easily.
You’re not very careful with your tearing or as precise as Bucky when he did it that first time all those months ago, so you tear too much and the rip on one side runs all the way up your side exposing your skin.
“What are you doing?!” Bucky gasps, dropping the fruits in his arms as he rushes for you.
The plop, thud, plop of the fruits draws your eyes before his massive form is beside you pushing your hands away from your dress. The shorts underneath are more visible now and tattered like all of your clothes. They’re more durable made of jeans, but you use them to do everything so they’re your most worn piece of clothing.
Your arms fall limply at your sides as your patience wears thin. You chew on your lip hard, urging your voice to be even as you look at him, your eyes searching his furrowed brow, those frantic blue steel eyes.
He’s got something on his mind but he’s not sharing and it’s really starting to piss you off!
As he holds your dress closed, he meets your eyes, hesitating to keep hold of your gaze.
“What’s going on?” You wonder.
“Nothing.” Bucky shrugs. “Don’t rip your dress anymore. Don’t you like this one?”
“Bucky…” You sigh again, urging yourself to have patience.
There’s a sudden shift in his expression, an anger that flashes behind his eyes and it only spurs your own on.
Why would he be angry with you?!
“Just, stop showing the pilot skin.” He lets your dress go and moves back to his abandoned pile of fruit.
“Are you joking?! What does that even mean, Bucky?” Your blood is boiling.
“He likes you.” Bucky declares, throwing the words over his shoulder as if you’re stupid not to have noticed.
“I-” You stutter, trying to wrap your mind around his words, what he means, why it matters, what his anger could indicate. “So what?”
Bucky’s shoulders tense.
“It doesn’t matter if he likes me or not. In case you haven’t noticed, I am the only woman on this island, so he really doesn’t have much of a selection. If we were back on the mainland, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t spare me a glance.”
“Is that really what matters here?” Bucky seethes, but you still can’t guess as to why he’s so bothered by it.
Unless…
“He didn’t see anything, alright? He had his back turned when I got out of the water.” You assure him.
“Oh, like that ass wouldn’t peek? You’re very naïve.” Bucky mutters.
“Excuse you?” You gasp, all attempts at bottling up your anger abandoned.
“He wants you!” Bucky insists, rising and turning to look at you, closing the distance with two steps to stand close but not too close. Just close enough that you’re both able to shout in each other’s faces. “Can’t you see that? The way he looks at you, he even asked me if you were taken. He was all happy when I told him you didn’t have anyone waiting for you back home.”
Your heart falls, a sudden realization hitting you as you think about all the sweet ways Ryan has indeed been flirting with you. If you were taken…
“So…so what you’re saying is that he asked you if I was taken and you told him I wasn’t, right?” You swallow hard, fighting the lump in your throat as you see that Bucky—as stupid as it is to think it in this way—hadn’t claimed you.
It goes in the face of what you’ve always believed, that women are not objects to be owned by men, and yet here on this island with two of them here alone with you for who knows how long—possibly forever—for Bucky not to stand and tell Ryan that you’re his…but you aren’t, are you?
Hurt and anger flow through you, making your hands tremble.
Bucky doesn’t answer. You shake your head, unable to accept that he doesn’t want you enough to tell Ryan that you’re off limits. That you’re his.
What has all this been over the past three months then? Have you been so stupid and so delusional that you saw things in his behavior that aren’t really there?
“I need space.” You tell him and without hesitation you turn and walk away, into the jungle to be as far away from this emotional blow as you can.
Only, you get two steps before metal is wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back towards him swiftly and easily as if you’re made of nothing more than feathers.
He pulls you against his chest, metal hand extended back behind him as he does. When you crash against him, he wraps it around your waist while his other hand reaches up behind your head to hold you in place as he dips and kisses you hard.
His arms are vices around you, pulling you tight as if he can’t feel you unless you’re right up against him.
After a few moments of contact, his lips soften, melding with yours gently and tenderly.
You’re breathless as you let him lead, relishing in the feel of his kiss as his lips part and the tip of his tongue coaxes your own open.
You gasp but meet him eagerly, letting your body fall against his. Slipping your arms underneath his, you feel the thick, hard planes of his back until you reach his shoulders and pull him towards you as the kiss consumes you both.
Your body is humming. You can feel every shift of his skin against yours like tingling fire. A burning touch that electrifies you as it shifts in meaning.
This is Bucky claiming you. This is his declaration.
He pulls back, a small smack to his lips as he breaks the kiss. Your eyes are hazy and fogged as you open them, searching his face with only half your mind working while the other still lingers on the intensity of his kiss.
You’re breathless too, and you forget so when you breath it’s a rush of air that makes you lightheaded and you cling to him harder so that you won’t fall.
Bucky smiles, adjusting his grip to hold you steady.
He brings his hand up to caress your temple and then your cheek, sliding a tickling thumb along the still tingling skin.
“Be my girl?” He says, voice deep but low and quiet so that only you can hear. It dives into your chest and warms it further, making your legs weak with not only their meaning but tone and the smooth velvet of its flow.
You swallow hard, looking for more breath where there doesn’t seem to be any. It all feels so unreal. Like your daydream as you’d watched him mix clay and chop wood and every muscle of his torso had rippled and flexed for you and you’d wished he would hold you, just like this and kiss you, just like now.
Somehow, you find strength and oxygen enough to speak. “I thought I already was.”
This confession makes his expression soften; it draws his brow down once again as he devours your face before leaning down to claim your lips once more.
You whimper, so please and so relieved that you haven’t been alone in this. You’ve wanted him and he also has been wanting you.
You break his kiss to gasp for air, “Never let me go.”
Bucky sighs, pulling you tighter—as if that’s even possible—against his chest. His hug is crushing and you know that he’s holding you as close as he can but you want it to be even closer.
“Never.” Bucky whispers, sounding emotional too.
You want to see his face, to see the expression that he’s wearing that makes that voice, but you can’t bear to pull away. Instead you bury your face against his neck as he does the same and both of you simply enjoy the embrace.
~~~~~~~~~~
This shift is dynamic.
The way you and Bucky respond to each other’s presence changes instantly and you couldn’t be happier.
As you walk back towards the beach with him, hand in hand, you can’t help the smile that splits your cheeks.
Each of you chances several glances at the other, smiling wider as you make your way.
“What?” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head as you stare.
“If I’d known that making you jealous was the way to get you to make a move…” You tell him.
Bucky shakes his head. “I think I’d have gone crazy if you’d done anything intentionally.”
You can almost picture Bucky’s rage if you’d done something on purpose, throwing yourself on Ryan just to get a rise out of him.
The idea of you wanting anyone’s touch other than Bucky’s is so preposterous that you really don’t know how Bucky could have believed for even one second that you and Ryan were possible.
“I’ve only wanted you, Buck.” You sigh, cuddling closer into his side as you rest your head against his metal bicep.
Bucky sighs deeply, relieved?
“I didn’t want to…assume,” He begins. “We were the only two here and you’re the only woman? Me the only man? I was so afraid that I’d make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way.”
“You could have asked.” You sigh. “But I guess I could have said something too. I could have told you it was okay.”
Bucky shakes his head. “I-I wasn’t nice to you at first. I don’t blame you for thinking I wasn’t feeling it. It’s my own fault.”
You pull him to a stop, tracing the shape of his forearm. “Bucky, none of this is your fault.”
This guilt he carries around with him about the plane, being marooned here, now his behavior when you first crashed?
“You didn’t know me. You saved me. We were strangers then. I don’t blame you for keeping me at a distance. Especially with everything that you’ve gone through and who you are? It’s natural for you to want to be cautious.” You understand his position.
Being the former Winter Soldier could not be easy to carry.
“But I should have been nicer.” He argues, reaches up to stroke your cheek again.
You lean into his touch, suddenly grateful that he can touch you like this away from the fuselage at bedtime.
Bedtime…holy shit. Your stomach erupts into flutters.
You quickly clear your throat and swallow to clear away the thoughts of how this will change bedtime too.
“I should have been more patient.” He continues.
With a smile, you shrug. “Maybe, but then you wouldn’t be you. I needed the kick in the butt. I’ve led a pretty sheltered life. I wasn’t prepared to survive out here. I’m glad you were stern.”
“Stern feels like an understatement. I was mean.” Bucky argues.
“Why are you so damn stubborn? I’m trying to give you a pass here, Barnes.” You gripe, suddenly annoyed again.
Bucky throws his head back and laughs, stroking your cheek with more affection at the sound of your irritation.
“Oh, man. You’re a firecracker.” He observes but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s leaning in to kiss you again.
You push yourself towards him, eager to kiss him again because you can, and you’ve wanted it for so long. The fervor with which you pull him against you should be embarrassing but you’ve been so starved for his affection and now that you have it, you’re going to take advantage of it.
“I really like you.” He whispers as he pulls away.
Your heart is exploding with butterflies and your stomach flips pleasantly.
“I really like you, too, Bucky.” You smile. “So much.”
He gives you one more quick peck before leading you back towards the hut, hand in hand.
As you approach, you put a little more distance between the two of you but keep your hand wrapped around his. Both of you search the area for Ryan, Bucky probably eager for him to see that you two are now together but as you move towards the clay trough, you spot only the bottles of water that you’d asked him to fetch.
Bucky lets go and moves for them, thirsty.
“Well, at least he’s useful.” He says, taking a drink. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” You look around, wondering if he’d one back to the fuselage for something. “Maybe he forgot something back at camp?”
“Maybe.” Bucky says, eyeing the way to camp with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know if I trust that guy.”
“Oh, come on, Bucky. I’m already yours.” You tease and turn to fix him with a smile.
Bucky shakes his head, fighting his own but it only makes him give you a heart-stopping half-smile. Pretty pink lips curved on one side in a new expression that you make note of to demand it again someday.
“I’m serious.” He insists. “There’s something off about it. I don’t know what, but I feel like he’s hiding something.”
“Something about the plane?” You wonder, voice serious now as you consider that you’ve only known Ryan for such a short time.
“Yeah.” Bucky nods, moving towards the clay trough where he immediately dips his hands in to mix the sediment that’s settled at the bottom.
“But he’s so nice.” You counter, feeling sad by the thought that Ryan might be two-faced.
“Most bad guys are.” Bucky mutters sinisterly.
You open your mouth to argue when the sound of splashing turns you towards the shoreline.
Rising from the water is Ryan, shirtless, blonde curls plastered against the side of his face. He wipes the water away and freezes for a moment when he spots the two of you on the beach.
He suddenly smiles, moving towards his shirt and pulls it over his head as he approaches.
“Hi.” You offer, squinting against the morning sun. A quick glance at Bucky shows you he’s standing, hands and forearms covered in clay as he stands watching Ryan too.
“Hello.” Ryan replies, moving towards the two of you with relaxed and easy walk. “When did you two get back?”
“Just now.” You smile at him, forcing yourself to see the kind man instead of the suspicious pilot that showed up out of nowhere.
Bucky’s own worries now seeping into you.
“Went for a swim?” You wonder, looking over his shoulder in the direction he came from.
“It’s hot out here.” He explains.
“Did you find anything?” Bucky suddenly asks, his voice full of forced friendliness. “You went to the cabin, right? What were you looking for?”
Ryan freezes by the small fire pit you and he had dug up a few days earlier to cook food on the beach instead of having to run all the way back to camp.
“I did go there, yeah.” He nods. “I wanted to see if mah bag was still there. I had some personal items I was hopin’ had survived the crash.”
“Nothing too important I hope?” And you really do hope it’s nothing that means a whole lot.
Ryan meets your gaze and fixes you with a tight and forlorn grin. “Some pictures of mah son.”
“Your son?!” You gasp, completely shocked by his declaration. “You have a son?”
“Aye, I have a son.” Ryan sighs. “I’ll go get the fish, ya? I’ll cook breakfast. You take a rest.”
“Now he has a son?” Bucky wonders once Ryan is a safe distance away and you honestly can’t blame him for the suspicion you can hear in his voice.
You really don’t know Ryan at all and now have to wonder how much more he might be hiding.
637 notes · View notes
the-rad-pineapple · 2 years
Text
always (spn fanfic)
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chapter one can be found here
chapter two can be found here
chapter three can be found here
chapter four can be found here
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ao3
fanfiction
wattpad
The music that inspired this fic.
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chapter five: Hunt
1.9k words
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Castiel’s heart flips inside his chest and panic immediately settles in. He yanks his phone from his pocket and dials Dean’s number. He grabs the keys to his truck off the motel table and rushes out the door.
Dean doesn’t answer. He tries again. Nothing.
Castiel opens the door to his truck and calls Sam. He starts his truck. Sam doesn’t answer. He leaves a voicemail.
“Sam, you’re burning the wrong bones. It’s not the dead twin. It’s the teacher. I just found a newspaper explaining how she died at the library during a flood. I’m going after her. She’s buried in the cemetery across town. I’ll let you know once it’s over.” Castiel ends the message and drives as quickly as he can towards the graveyard.
Teens have been brutally murdered at the local library over the past two months. They’d all drowned; their lungs had been filled with water, despite the library being bone dry. Their deaths were obviously of supernatural origin.
Sam had found the case, and Castiel wanted to come. Dean was reluctant, but Castiel learned how to give him that pleading look Sam gives him when he really wants something. And it worked. But, understandably, Castiel’s only job on this Hunt is research. His wound still isn’t healed up enough for any physical activity.
But now Sam and Dean are salting and burning the wrong bones. More teens are in danger the longer this ghost is around, so it’s up to Castiel to get rid of it. It’s nothing he can’t handle; he just has to dig up the bones and burn them.
He severely underestimated how difficult it is to dig up a grave. Especially with his injuries.
Every scoop of dirt sends a jolt of pain inside his abdomen, and he begins to sweat far too early. His grave digging is sloppy, and he’s barely two feet in and already a sweaty, panting mess; he doesn’t care how good the hole he’s digging looks.
Castiel grimaces as he continues to dig. He can tell he’s ripping a few of his stitches and refuses to look down at his injury, just in case he sees something he doesn’t like. But he can’t dwell on that right now. There are more important things at hand. Those teenagers’ lives are at stake. Castiel is just grateful his adrenaline and anxiety to get this done quickly are masking the pain enough to make it bearable. He takes a deep breath and wipes his damp forehead with one of his hands and continues to dig.
After what feels like years, his shovel finally hits something solid. The coffin.
Shaking from adrenaline, and weak from the first real physical activity he’s performed as a human, Castiel pries open the casket after his third try. He swallows dryly. The teacher’s corpse is sunken but juicy. Her form still fills her clothing, but her skin is rotten. It’s one of the worst smells Castiel has ever smelled, and he’s hit with the strong urge to vomit the second he opens the coffin. He quickly turns away and climbs out of the newly-dug hole, craving fresh air. Castiel grunts as another flash of pain strikes through him as he climbs. When he stands up, black dots fill his vision, and he stumbles unsteadily forward. He forces himself to take a moment to catch his breath and wipes his forehead again.
The last thing anyone needs is for him to pass out right now.
Now that his adrenaline is beginning to wear off, Castiel’s wound throbs painfully. It’s not as sharp as before, but Castiel quickly grabs the accelerant and salt. He doesn’t want to stay here longer than he needs to. He pours a generous amount of accelerant and salt over the corpse, taking out a lighter Dean had given him. But just as he flicks it open, the air becomes colder, and Castiel can see his breath.
Oh, no.
It’s all he can manage to think before he’s thrown several yards across the cemetery. Castiel lands with a thump that leaves him gasping.
Fuck!
The pain is so bright he can’t see. Castiel instinctively places a hand on his stomach. It’s warm and sticky. This feels as bad as when he was stabbed the first time. He curls in on himself. Maybe even worse. He still can’t manage to catch his breath when the air starts to get cold again.
No, no, no.
Castiel sits up as quickly as he can, and it’s a mistake. White hot stabbing pain. The black dots fill his vision again. The world tilts, and he falls backwards.
- - - -
“Dammit, Cas!”
Castiel opens his eyes with a gasp. The pain in his stomach is sharp and deep. And then he remembers.
“The ghost!” He tries to sit up.
A hand pushes him back down. “Will you fucking slow down!”
Castiel blinks. It’s darker now, and his eyes finally adjust to see Dean staring down at him. Dean’s eyebrows are pinched together, and he’s frowning. There’s a fire in his eyes Castiel used to mistake for anger but now knows is concern.
“I’m fine,” Castiel reassures him. Had he done it? Had he gotten rid of the ghost? He didn’t quite manage to burn the bones. Are more teenagers dead?
“No, you’re not!” Dean says. “You’re bleeding.”
“Did you salt and burn the bones? The teacher’s bones?”
“Yes, Cas, yes. Can you focus on yourself now?”
Castiel nods, relief releasing the tension in his shoulders. It’s over. The ghost is gone.
Then Dean’s words hit him. “I’m bleeding?” he asks as he looks down at himself. Blood is seeping through his green shirt. It’s a dark wet stain arcing across his stomach. Castiel feels dizzy. “Oh,” he says weakly, and the dizziness gets worse.
“Whoa, hey.” Dean’s hand firmly grips the back of his neck. “Look at me.”
It’s difficult to focus on Dean, and it’s as if looking at his injury made him realize how much it hurts. It’s a sharp, hot, incessant pain. Castiel grabs fistfuls of grass in his hands. “I want to go home.”
“Yeah, okay.” Dean somehow looks even more worried than before. “Can you walk?”
Castiel nods. “Yes.”
Dean helps Castiel stand, the pain flares—hot and consuming—once he’s up, and his legs are shaking. Dean still has a hand on Castiel’s back. Castiel takes a step, but he apparently can’t support his own weight anymore, and his legs give out.
“Shit,” Dean hisses as he catches Castiel.
“Sorry,” Castiel mumbles, leaning into Dean.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Dean holds him up, one arm wrapping around him while the other grips his side, a few inches from his injury. “Sam!” he calls.
Castiel hears the fast approach of footsteps, but can’t force himself to look up. Maintaining the small amount of balance he has is taking all of his energy. He’s gripping onto the front of Dean’s shirt with all the strength he can muster.
“Get the first-aid kit and start the car,” Dean hisses.
“Do you need help?” Sam asks.
“No, no, I got him. Just do what I asked.”
“Yeah, okay.”
There’s a pause, and Castiel can feel Sam’s eyes on him before Sam races towards the car. Castiel hates feeling so helpless. He’s utterly useless. Why is he always the damsel in distress?
“I’m sorry,” Castiel says again. “I shouldn’t have come.” They didn’t need him. He’s just slowing them down.
Dean guides them between the graves. His pace is urgent, and Castiel is struggling to keep up. “You shouldn’t have come here by yourself,” Dean says sternly.
“I know,” Castiel begins, “but the ghost—”
“I don’t care about the ghost, Cas!” Dean erupts.
Castiel stumbles.
Dean pauses to adjust his grip. “Sorry, sorry,” he says quieter. “I just don’t—” Dean huffs in frustration, and they start walking again. “Why don’t you take better care of yourself?”
And Castiel knows what Dean means. He knows Dean is talking about burning the bones by himself. But it sounds chastising, and it makes Castiel feel like a child (even though he is thousands of years older than Dean), and it stings. Castiel thinks he’s adjusting to being a human very well considering he’s only done it once before. And he’s injured this time. Dean has no idea what it’s like to be an angel one second and a human the next. He should try it before talking down to Castiel like this!
“I’m trying,” Castiel grits out and is surprised by the sudden onset of tears.
“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.”
“Fuck you.”
And Castiel knows he went too far, because he can feel Dean tense, and their pace quickens. They finally reach the Impala, and Dean wordlessly guides Castiel into the back seat. The first-aid kit is on the seat beside him.
“Scoot over,” Dean says tersely, and Castiel does, placing the kit on his lap. He refuses to look in Dean’s eyes.
The seat sinks with the weight of Dean sitting next to him, and the door slams closed. Sam starts the car, and Dean snatches the first-aid kit from Castiel’s lap. One of Dean’s hands grabs onto Castiel’s shoulder a little too hard and pulls Castiel towards him.
“Wha—?” Castiel starts.
“Lay down,” Dean commands.
The pain flares up as Castiel lays across Dean’s lap, looking up at the Impala’s roof. The light from the street lamps outside cast moving shadows through the car. It makes Castiel dizzy, and he closes his eyes. He can feel Dean slowly lift his shirt. His exposed skin feels cold.
Dean’s fingers lightly skim over his abdomen, and Castiel tenses when they brush over a particularly painful spot. Castiel hears the first-aid kit pop open, and gauze is lightly dabbed where Dean’s fingers just were. There must be an exceptionally bloody spot, because Dean suddenly presses down harder, and pain bolts from the center of Castiel’s body all the way up to his head and down to his toes. He balls his hands up into fists and attempts to fight back the whimper pressing its way up his throat. The pain only lasts a moment more before the pressure is gone.
There’s a pause where everything is silent, and Dean doesn’t move. Castiel is about to open his eyes and ask what’s wrong, but then Dean gently brushes the hair off of Castiel’s forehead. Dean combs Castiel’s hair with his fingers, and it feels…really nice.
Then, softly, Dean says, “You need a lot of stitches.” He continues to run his hand through Castiel’s hair. “It’s going to hurt.”
Castiel nods slightly, screwing his eyes shut tighter, already anticipating the pain. “Okay.”
Dean gently moves his fingers through Castiel’s hair one more time before rummaging through the first-aid kit.
“Ready?” Dean asks.
Castiel isn’t. “Yes.”
And Dean was right. It does hurt. A lot.
- - - -
Castiel is bed-ridden again. But he doesn’t yell at Dean this time for constantly being at his side.
- - - -
chapter six
13 notes · View notes
bamsywrites · 3 years
Text
Mistakes Like These
Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that
Rating: 18+, nsfw
Words: 4877
Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use
Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader
Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.
“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.
“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”
You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.
“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.
Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.
Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.
Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.
You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.
Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.
Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.
And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.
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Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.
In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.
“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.
“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.
You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.
“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”
There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.
“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.
“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.
God, you just wanted to go to your room.
“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”
Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.
“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”
------------------
“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.
Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.
“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.
“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.
“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”
Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”
Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.
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You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too.  That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.
Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.
You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.
You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.
------
Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.
“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.
Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.
“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.
Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.
I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.
The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.
Does she feel as soft as she looks?
He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.
The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.
“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”
Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.
“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”
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It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.
There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.
After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.
“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.
“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”
You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.
“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.
“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.
“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.
“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.
“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.
You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”
Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”
You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”
“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”
You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away.  “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hey, at the time it did.”
You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”
“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.
“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”
“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”
“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.
“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.
“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”
Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”
“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”
Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.
“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.
Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.
Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”
He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”
“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”
You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.
“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”
In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.
You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”
Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.
He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.
“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”
You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.
“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”
He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.
“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.
“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.
“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.
“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.
“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”
It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.
“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.
“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”
You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.
You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.
“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.
“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.
“You know we can’t uh…-”
“Yup.”
“Like, ever.”
“Trust me, I’m aware.”
“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”
You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.
“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”
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Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.
It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “
“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.
“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”
I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.
“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”
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Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!
155 notes · View notes
snailsnfriends · 3 years
Text
Dream SMP and the Effects of Grimdark Media: An Essay
Hello! For those who don’t me, I am snail, and I have been interested in the Dream SMP since October, but joined the Tumblr community not too long ago. As a writer and actor myself, the work of those on the Dream SMP has absolutely blown me away. However, I and others have noticed a trend in the writing of the Dream SMP: a good sum of it is very grimdark, and I began to notice people really feeling the effects of that, and I wanted to look more deeply into it, and how that can be altered. 
NOTE: I am completely aware that all of the writers on the Dream SMP are amateurs, and likely do not have any sort of “training” other than what they were taught in school. I would not be critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP if I did not believe that it could be “fixed.” Later in this essay, I offer suggestions to “fix” the problem that I’m bringing up. All references to factual information used in this essay will be linked at the end. 
Now, before we can talk about the Dream SMP and its writing, first we need to figure out what grimdark media is and how that affects those who watch it.
What is grimdark media?
According to the google the definition of grimdark is “(of fiction, especially fantasy fiction) characterized by disturbing, violent, or bleak subject matter and a dystopian setting.”
So now that we’ve established what grimdark is, how does depressing media, or any form of media for that matter, affect our emotions as the viewer?
As we are consuming any form of media, whether it’s a movie, a TV show, a book, a podcast, a live theatrical performance, or a Dream SMP lore stream, we as the viewers are completely aware that what we are watching is purely fictional, and that those who are performing are acting. None of the events are real, none of the characters are real, and none of the settings are real. 
So why do we react so heavily to certain moments? Why do we cry during heavy lore streams if we know that none of it is real? 
A lot of it has to do with the human capacity to feel empathy/sympathy. Empathy allows us to understand the experiences of others, even complete strangers. Sympathy, on the other hand, allows us to share the feelings and/or emotions of others. As we are consuming media, we are aware that all of it is fake, but we still feel empathy and/or sympathy for the characters. So much so that a physical response, such as crying, is a result. 
Even though the characters of the Dream SMP are not real, a lot of their characters’ responses to traumatic events ARE, so we as an audience sympathize with them heavily. For example, c!Tommy shows very clear signs of PTSD after being killed by Dream, such as extreme emotional distress or physical reactions to something that reminds the victim of the event (c!Tommy freaking out after taking fall damage), trying to avoid discussing the even or avoiding activities, people, and places that remind the victim of the event (c!Tommy refusing to go into depth about what happened to him), memory problems (does not really remember how long he was dead for), easily startled, always on guard, extremely irritable, angry outbursts or aggressive behavior, and difficulty keeping close relationships (his current relationship with c!Tubbo). 
Even though we as an audience know that c!Tommy and his experiences aren’t real, his reactions to these experiences are realistic, and can be relatable to a lot of viewers, those with PTSD and those without (which is why it is VERY important to be careful with your word choice when discussing these characters; this connects with the problem of villainizing characters with mental illnesses, but that’s another topic for another day). We as viewers empathize with c!Tommy because it is likely that we have reacted the same way to traumatic events, and we understand them fully. They may remind us of our past and/or current selves, so we react emotionally to them. 
We as people also mirror the reactions and emotions of others. If someone starts to cry, real or fictional, it’s likely that you will as well. If someone is angry, you will likely get angry as well. This is not odd, and is very normal for humans to do. Regardless, getting angry or crying are emotional responses, and will hurt you in some way. 
Another thing to note is that this fandom is made up of mostly minors, and some of the most traumatized characters on the Dream SMP are also minors. It can be hard to watch kids your own age go through so much, even fictional ones. As an adult, it can be just as hard to watch these young kids go through so much, especially when you try to compare those characters to who you were at their ages. 
Even those who have not gone through these events will likely sympathize with these characters heavily because what they have gone through is emotionally heavy. Because of all of this, watching heavy lore streams can have a negative effect on a viewer’s mental health. 
Okay, so why is the Dream SMP storyline at the moment so dark and angsty? Why do people keep engaging with it if it is negatively affecting their mental health?
This sort of “angst spiral” of sorts is usually something I notice in fanworks such as fanart or fanfiction. It is sometimes a lot more fun to write or draw heavy, emotional moments, and they garner more attention. 
It sort of goes like this: the plot has a normal amount of angst in it for the story, and at this point it is balanced with more happy or “fluffy” content, the angst gets more attention from fans, the writer (or in the case of the Dream SMP, writers) notice this and write more angst as a response but it is still bearable, the audience feeds off of this heavily and create more fanart/fanfiction/theories based on it, writer really notices this and (understandably) comes to the conclusion that angst/grimdark things are the best/easiest way to get the audience excited for the plot, the plot gets very very grimdark and is not balanced out with any upbeat moments, random angst plots are started with no real ending in sight despite that not being the original plan for the character/plot (feet are too small for the big shoes) and the rare upbeat moments are short/not given any attention, and at this point, it can be almost unbearable to watch because the plot has become too grimdark. Once we reach this point, or even a few before it, it can cause a big toll on the viewers’ mental health.
The reason why someone who has been negatively affected by the grimdark content of the Dream SMP may still watch it is because the Dream SMP has not always been this way, and the writers have proven that they can do upbeat/fluffy content, so they keep watching. A big example of this is the Disc War Finale. Although the first half of it was more angsty, the final parts where everyone came together to put c!Dream in jail and to protect c!Tommy and c!Tubbo was upbeat and even a bit cathartic to watch. C!Tommy and c!Tubbo sitting on the bench, listening to their discs together in the end was much needed for the audience. This can even be seen in smaller examples, like c!Tommy exclaiming, “I’m free!” while flying around with c!Dream’s trident, or c!Tubbo and c!Ranboo adopting Michael and getting married.
The Dream SMP also may be someone’s hyperfixation, so they are unable to simply stop watching. 
So now that we know all of this, what can the writers of the Dream SMP do to fix this, and what can we as viewers do to help ourselves out?
As I said in the note before this essay, I will be citing examples of a more balanced lore/angst plot that the writers have shown that they are capable of doing.
The writers: 
Make designated lore streams shorter
The best example of this is c!Tommy’s 25-30 minute prison streams. These streams were short, sweet, and to the point. We got all of the “lore” we needed quickly, and if you happened to miss it, it was easy to watch it back later. If the lore bits were too heavy to watch, then you would not be missing too much. 
I know that this is definitely not always possible, so this is most likely the best way to go:
Balance out lore and funny bits in streams
Cc!Tommy’s last lore stream, pretty much all of the Pogtopia streams, and most of cc!Tubbo’s streams are like this. They are a mix of lore and funny moments where the CCs are actually speaking and joking with each other. These are a lot easier to watch because it is not heavy the entire time. The joking moments provide a break in between the angst, and it can also be used as a good way to remind the audience that the Dream SMP is purely fictional. These streams are also better for those who do not really care for the lore and would rather just watch the CCs mess around with each other. 
For me, these funny moments are what caused me to fall in love with the Dream SMP and the creators behind it, and I know that the same applies to a lot of people in this fandom. I think this would probably be the best way for the Dream SMP to operate around lore. 
The viewers 
Try to take a break from lore streams if it becomes too much
As I stated before, the Dream SMP is not real, but the characters’ reactions to events can be very realistic and hard to watch. If things become too much for you, try to take a break from it. Stop watching the stream, don’t go on social media if you follow stan accounts or Dream SMP dedicated blogs, and go do something that calms you down. If you feel that you’re feeling good enough to go back to the stream, go ahead! If not, then that’s completely okay too!
Follow lore recap accounts/blogs to stay up to date on the lore
The fear of missing lore streams is centered largely around missing something crucial. There are plenty of accounts on Twitter and blogs on Tumblr that recap lore streams so you can stay up to date on the plot without having to watch the streams. 
The VODs will be there to watch later
If things are too much, remember that you do not have to watch the streams in real-time. You can always watch them later if you aren’t in the right headspace to watch them live. 
Conclusion
The Dream SMP’s writing and acting is very impressive. The amount of awesome fanart, fanfiction, analysis posts, and other work is absolutely amazing. It is so cool that so many people enjoy this Minecraft roleplay so much. The amount of people who love it is good proof that the writers are doing an amazing job, and the amount of people having an emotional response to it shows the same thing. However, the amount of angst can be hard to watch and can put the writers in a tough spot to get out of. 
I have a lot of faith in the writers of the Dream SMP, and I believe that it is possibly on the right track, with Tommy’s latest lore stream being an example of this. I really do think that the amount of grimdark content can be altered and streams can be easier and more fun to watch. Hopefully we’ll get a more mixed bag of lore and angst soon to make things more enjoyable for everyone involved.
Sources:
https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20355967
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-moral-molecule/200902/why-we-cry-movies
https://www.vice.com/sv/article/exqgqm/why-do-we-cry-when-we-watch-films
https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/sympathy-empathy-difference
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bettsfic · 3 years
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Hi betts, how do you separate yourself from your fanfiction works? As in having the mindset that ‘you are not your work’? I feel like I’ve fallen into the myth that positive feedback equates to readers liking me for me, when in most cases I imagine they’re solely interested in my content. I guess I’m expecting too much from fandom members? I just don’t feel like I belong to the fandom if it weren’t for my fanfiction. Thanks for your time.
this is a really great and really big question that for me anyway had far deeper roots in my mental health than i initially recognized. 
even before i found fandom, i strongly conflated love with being of use to someone, and then i would get upset that people used me. all of my relationships were either distant or volatile. i knew that i was the only thing all my relationships had in common, but i couldn’t figure out what i was doing wrong. 
what i was doing wrong was that i didn’t know how to love or be loved. i only knew how to need and be needed. i was defined wholly by my relationships with others; without them, i was no one. i changed everything about myself to fit with the people i was surrounded by. i had no ability whatsoever to see or assess myself. my worth was measured in others’ perception of me. if they hated me, i hated me. if they loved me...actually, i still hated me, because i believed that love was temporary, and it was only a matter of time they saw the “real” me and they would take their love away. it was much easier to mold myself into someone they could love. 
i once told a guy i was dating, i just want to be who you want me to be. and he looked at me like i was crazy, and asked, then how can i love you? 
when i found writing, i didn’t know what love really felt like. i only knew obsession and codependency. i didn’t know how to feel emotions in order to process them, so everything that had ever happened to me was still just sitting inside me, waiting. writing offered me a tool to begin working through the pile. it offered me a means to observe and validate myself, and feel my feelings. 
but when i was first developing a relationship with writing, i put so much of myself into it that i couldn’t help but use feedback as a measure of self-worth. 
i think to some degree, every artist needs a witness. almost everything we write exists to be made public to some degree, and it’s a totally normal thing to want to seek reception. but conflating other people liking you, and by extension your work, with your worthiness to exist, creates a lot of self-suffering.
i remember realizing that i had boxed myself into a corner, and i knew i had to reassess my perspective of myself and my work. i had found myself in the same position you describe, feeling bad because readers didn’t love me, they loved my writing (see: being of use and wondering why people always used me). especially with fanfic, which has so much to do with quantity, 90% of readers don’t even look at the fic writer’s name, let alone kudos or comment. reading is a self-fulfilling endeavor the same way eating is. all of us need stories to live. as writers, we’re just the chefs. when you eat a good meal, you don’t fall in love with the chef. most of the time you don’t even know their name. the food isn’t the chef and the story isn’t you. 
but also, i was, and always had been, disgusted and baffled by people who *did* love me, especially if i felt i had nothing useful to offer them. once, a friend of mine drove like 3 hours to come visit me for dinner, and then drove 3 hours back. for some reason i assumed he was on a road trip somewhere and just passing through. when he told me he had come just to hang out with me, my brain short-circuited. i couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to hang out with me like, for fun. 
after a few years of posting fic, a weird thing happened where a few people did seem to like *me* because of my writing, insofar as they would follow my blog and interact with me and eventually we became friends. there may even be people out there who like me and don’t interact with me. but that idea also kind of weirded me out for a long time, because i kept thinking, who am i? no one. i’m nothing. i’m boring. go read my writing, that’s what matters. 
and then i realized, i could not have it both ways. either i wanted to be seen, or i wanted to go unseen. i was schrödinger’s validation. 
so i think the very simple answer is “learn to love yourself,” but i was so far behind when it came to love, i didn’t know what loving yourself even meant. so i think a better adage is “learn love.” learn what love is, what it feels like, what it looks like. and then turn that definition on yourself and your work. 
i love myself, even when i mess up, even when i’m not meeting my expectations. i love my work, even when it’s bad. when other people love me and my work, that makes me happy. when they don’t, that’s fine, because i still have plenty of my own love left. 
in practicality, for a few years i basically had to constantly chant to myself “what other people think of me is not my business.” a reader’s relationship with your writing is not your obligation to know or control. it’s only your obligation to create the stories you want to tell, and maybe you share them so you can share the love you put into them, or maybe you don’t. maybe you eat the meal you cook, or maybe you share it with someone else. whether they like it or not has no bearing on who you are. it’s all just personal taste.
more importantly, you can’t generate self-beliefs externally. someone’s opinion of you or your work cannot define you, because no one has a wider view of you than you. you are the expert of yourself. it took me a long time to change all of my self-beliefs, or what i’ve come to call “life sentences,” into statements of temporality and priority. “i’m brave” turned into “i value courage.” “i’m bad at directions” turned into “sometimes i get turned around.” every time i’m about to make a sweeping judgment of myself, i try to recast it into something more malleable, because every state of the self is temporary, and i always want to give myself the opportunity to grow.
i won’t lie and say i have a totally healthy relationship with my writing. i still get jealous sometimes, although it’s much briefer and more bearable than it used to be. i still get deeply annoyed by tactless or rude feedback, but i rarely get upset. i *do* get upset when someone sends me a link to a forum or thread of people making fun of me; i think it’s hard to unlearn that. sometimes i still feel the need to defend or justify or apologize for my work. and i definitely still compulsively refresh my comment inbox whenever i post something i’m proud of. but for the most part, i’m in a much better place than i used to be.
currently i’m working on making peace with the idea of publication, that my original work treads a morally risky line that is easily misunderstood, and i’m publishing into a world of mob mentality and cancel culture. and moreover, once a work is published, once it’s out there, it can never go back in. i’m trying to figure out whether i’m confident enough now in my work to still stand by it in ten years or fifty. i’m also freaked out about how anything i publish will outlive me. as someone who has always lived with existential dread, it’s terrifying to think i may write something that could be read in a hundred years, that my voice might live longer than my body. there is a very slim chance of it, but as i’ve mentioned before, i think it’s better to plan more for success than failure. 
i’m not sure if any of this is helpful, but it’s the path i took to get where i am. i wish you the best of luck navigating your relationship with your work. 
my carrd | writing advice masterdoc
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