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metalbuckaroo · 3 years

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💋Unspoken Rule #4💋

🍒 SUMMARY// At 3am, every Sunday, Bucky locks his bedroom door to watch his favorite camgirl. What's to happen when he finds out he's much closer to her than leaving generous tips on her videos?

💋 WARNINGS// smut, light fingering, unprotected sex, some sub!bucky, cursing, a smidgen of angst

🍒 AU// roommate!bucky x camgirl!reader

💋 NOTE// As always, requests and asks are open, feedback is appreciated 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

🍒Ronly Friends Masterlist🍒

💋Main Masterlist💋

Moodboard by// @commonintrest

Over the next two weeks, two more videos were filmed. Both without kissing and not going any further than getting each other off without having sex, but also still as mind blowing as the first.

Bucky wanted to experience that high he couldn't reach himself. That no one else had gotten him to.

He didn't tell Steve or Sam about anything that had been happening, he knew there would be teasing and it would also blow the 'Soldat and Cherry' cover, so it became another unspoken rule.

He stopped trying to muffle the sounds he made as he watched the videos and ditched the headphones; making it obvious to you that he was still subscribed to watch videos that he could easily ask you to send him.

But, the sounds you could hear through his bedroom door were nothing compare to the ones muffled by the plastic mask when it came time to film another video.

A long talk about boundaries and keeping things casual, is what lead to the filming of the fourth video. Making sure both of you promised it would stay purely in videos. Nothing more.

Even as you laid against the throw blanket that covered your bed, completely bare besides the mask and wig as he tugged the glove on his right hand off. Bucky kept mentally repeating the promise.

Goosebumps prickled your skin when the cold leather and warm skin of his hands glided up the insides of your thighs, his cock twitching and eyes staying locked in on the glisten of your slit. His thumb ghosting over your clit to elicit a soft moan. "Don't tease." You exhaled, shifting around slightly under his piercing gaze.

Humming in response, Bucky ran two fingers through your folds. Coating the pads of his fingers with your slick before circling your sensitive bud.

The skillful work of his long, thick fingers had you convinced that your own would never be the same. The way they curled and stroked against your walls in the best way as your hands clutched the opening of his leather jacket. Quick to have your back arching from the mattress.

"Is my face in the shot?" Bucky said lowly when he leaned down so his face was inches from yours. Your eyes looking to the small screen on the side of the camera to see his hair shielded his face. "No."

"Good, wanna kiss you." His gloved hand reached to pull the mask down, the steady thrust of his fingers on his right not faltering. "Ok, just don't stop." You nodded, catching his plump lips in yours.

The taste of his tongue just as you had imagined it to be when it slipped between your lips to press into yours. Both minty and sweet.

Bucky swallowed every sweet sound he pulled from you, making sure not to break away from the breathless kiss until you had rode your orgasm. Your teeth nipping at his bottom lip as your hands pressed against his chest. "Mask on and lay back." You mumbled against his lips as he removed his fingers.

Bucky's mind was racing just like it was the first time as you moved over him, his hands holding your waist and heart thumping away against his ribcage.

He always thought that all sex would feel the same, but this was different. He had a certain proud feeling when you whimpered softly once he was fully sheathed into the tight warmth of your cunt, the instant flutter of your walls making him groan softly.

You had never had such a full feeling, his tip brushing your cervix as you swiveled your hips. Laying your hands flat against his taut chest to keep steady and letting your head lull forward.

Starting slow and working up to a faster pace when you had adjusted as his hands slipped down to hold your hips.

It was hard to keep focus, the feeling of every ridged inch sliding against your walls sending sparks of pleasure through you starting to engulf you. Trying to pinpoint the pitch of Bucky's moans and pants to know when to slow down.

His fingers curled into the flesh of your ass, hips rolling gently under you as the swirling in the pit of his stomach started. Only to fade away when your hips slowed into a grind, his eyes snapping open to meet your hooded ones as you gave him a wicked smile.

Bucky lifted a hand to hold the back of your neck, pulling you down to whisper in your ear. "You're edging me?" He mumbled, biting back a groan when you wiggled against him. "Be a good boy, Soldat."

He couldn't deny the warmth that washed over him from the two words he told himself wouldn't have an effect on him, muttering a few curses in Russian as he moved his hand back to your hip.

The tensing of the muscles in his thighs quickly started again, his release being held off until he was desperate.

His head lifted from the pillow, brows scrunching up as he tried to guide you faster, your movement nearly stopping when he did. "Please, dear God, cherry." Bucky whined as his head fell back against the pillows, chest and neck flushed and sweat slicked. His mask not helping the hot huffs of breath that fanned right back into his face.

You knew he could easily overpower you if he wanted to, and that's what made it even better. Watching as he tensed and wiggled under you in attempts to get the release he wanted- but he knew it would be worth it in the end. Being able to push as deep as he could go and fill you with his spend until you leaked around his base, would definitely be worth it.

Your throbbing clit ached for some kind of attention, but you weren't done with your fun of watching Bucky crack under you. The sturdy man muttering to himself to let him cum as his warm hand groped at your chest, gloved left caressing your waist and backside.

Needy whines promising he'd be good, telling you how amazing you felt stretching around him. Until his pleas and praises were enough to snap the coil.

Your fingers digging crescent moon shapes into the smooth skin of his chest as your orgasm took over completely. Mind fogging over for a brief moment.

"Oh, god- B-" your bit down harshly on your bottom lip to stop his name from rolling off of your tongue, falling forward against his hot chest as the aftershocks took over and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Giving him the opportunity to chase his own high.

Bending his knees to plant his feet flat against the mattress, Bucky's hands went under your ass, letting out a shaky breath as he chased his own high with rigorous thrusts that made you keen against his flush skin.

"Shit- oh, fuck- so good, cherry." He grunted, gripping your backside as his hips pistoned up into yours, quickly reaching his high. A guttural moan vibrating through his chest when he filled you with hot spurts of his release.

His hands stayed on you until you were out of his reach to turn off the camera, looking over his blissed out form one last time as he felt for the edge of the plastic face covering.

"Holy fuck..." He panted, almost ripping the mask from his face. "Good?" You giggled, slipping on one of his shirts that was on your dresser as he sat up. "Great, best ever." Bucky chuckled, eyes wandering down to where the tops of your inner thighs glistened from his spend leaking onto them before the hem of the shirt blocked the view.

"Beat you to the shower." You grinned, squinting your eyes at him as you backed towards the door. "That's not f- wait!" He called when you slipped out of the room, standing to follow after you.

"I wasn't paying attention, that wasn't fair." Bucky pointed a finger at you with a frown that made you laugh lightly. "Better luck next time."

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The next morning went as normal, Bucky left for work after breakfast, you took a trip to the grocery store. Only this time, you came back with something to talk to Bucky about.

He gave you a bright smile when he walked in the door, long legs carrying him over to where you were on the couch before he swiped the remote from your lap.

"Buck, I need to talk to you." You sighed, turning in your seat to face him. "'Bout what, cherry?" He said, shifting to be more comfortable as his knees parted more. "I, uh, I have a date next week so... I'm gonna do the next video solo." You nodded.

Bucky felt a pang in his heart, he promised everything was purely for videos, but he couldn't help the sliver of jealously that tainted his veins. "Does that mean- we're not gonna film together anymore?" He asked quietly, muting the TV so you had his full attention.

You sucked in a sharp breath and shrugged your shoulders. A part of you wanted to say no to the man at the store who asked you on a date, but he was nice and handsome.

"I don't know. This guy seems nice and all but, it was more of a- I don't want to decline your invitation because you're sweet, so one date won't hurt." You said, looking at where you hands were tugging a string on the couch cushion. "And you don't want to feel guilty about having sex with someone else days before the date. I understand." Bucky nodded his head, giving you a sweet smile.

"Thanks, Bucky." You mumbled, patting his leg before scooting closer. "Who is it?" He said, narrowing his eyes at you and hoping it didn't seem like a 'who's replacing me' type of question. "Cashier at the supermarket."

"He is pretty nice. Gives me extra coupons when I go." Bucky said, scrunching his nose up. "You're not mad, are you?"

He quickly shook his head and gave another smile as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "Of course not, all for the videos, remember?"

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you leaned further into his side. "Yeah... for the videos."

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#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #roommate!bucky fluff #roommate!bucky angst #roommate!bucky smut #roommate!au #roommate!bucky #roommate!bucky x camgirl!reader #camgirl!reader #sub!bucky #sub!bucky smut

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vintage-marina · 3 years

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A woman out of time chapter 4

TW: probably derealisation (reader is confused where she is), talking about the loss of someone, talking about Hydra, nazi's and the Second World War

wordcount: 2694

The Dauntless

''Take that thing off on your shoulders, everything that you carry should lay on the ground,'' said a man with a white wig to you. Not that he was special or anything, no everyone was wearing white wigs. This was the moment that you knew that the men fashion of this time period was really ugly. You knew your fair share of historical women clothing but you had no idea what the men wore so you didn't exactly knew in what time you were in. ''Now!'' said the man again, you mumbeled quietly to yourself, clicked off the safety belt that was strapped across the top of your chest and shrugged of the straps across your shoulders that secured the med pack. Some of the men that could ssee you had widened their eyes and were questioning what you were wearing, they never saw it and it was certainley not lady like. You held your medpack in one of your hands and laid it carefully on the ground, you straightend your back and stared ahead of you but when someone picked that up you said concerned: ''Hey, don't touch that!''

The Commodore was walking towards you, (that was James, but after someone called him commodore you knew that he was pretty important) had handcuffs in his hand and clicked it onto your gloved hands. Both of you didn't say anything and you only stared him down. The light bags under his eyes told you that he was tired and in his eyes swom sadness, the same sadness that swom into yours. You noticed that he was or sad about the loss of his men or that he was sad that he had to arrest a woman and possibly execute her (so that was you) or a mix of them.

You were pushed on your back, were let to the lower deck of the ship and were thrown into an old cell with rusted bars. The cell smelled and you saw dirt laying on the floor, you lifted your nose up in disgust and the smell made you almost gag. James Norrington led the way to your prison and you turned your head to face him. ''Well atleast your or your men could have cleaned up this mess, but alas I shouldn't have expected that.'' The second thing you noticed about him was that he couldn't have eye contact with someone for a long time, instead of looking into your eyes he was staring at the wall behind you. He cleared his throat and looked into your eyes again for a moment. ''This is not a place for a woman,'' ''then get me out of here.'' ''No, you're a pirate. You don't deserve a good place to stay.'' His eyes went cold after he accused you of it.

''Like I said before, I am not a pirate! Besides even if I was a pirate, they don't deserve this treatment of you and the Navy. They are human just like you, yes maybe some of them are bad and they should be punished ofcourse, but not all of them are bad. And most men in the Navy are just as bad maybe even worse and they don't get punished. That isn't fair, is it Commodore?'' He ignored you and didn't meet your eyes again, in fact he didn't even say anything to you but turned his back to walk away from you. In two steps you were by the metal bars and you gripped it with determination. ''I'm a nurse Commodore, if you want your men to be alive and well, you should let me out of this cell and let me go, so I can help them!'' He still ignored you and walked to the stairs. You sighed in irritation and sat on the place of the ground that was the most clean, but in desperation you said one last thing to him ''If you leave me as a prisoner, I will be dead and my blood will be on your hands! Don't think your innocent either Commodore! You've probably killed more men than any pirate on earth!'' you took a deep breath to calm yourself and then you said in a monotone voice: ''And who will take care of your wounded men, your so called medic? He would probably give them an infection that would result in death.'' He was on top of the stairs by now and you could see that he struggled by what you said but he only give you a stare that said you disgust me and walked into the light of the moon.

You laid your head against the wall and closed your eyes. The smell was disgusting and you thought it was for the best to breath to your mouth, your fingers were tapping on the ground and you were thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. The cell resembled the prison where you stayed for short periods of time in Hydra and your eyes went wide open. Your fingers stopped with tapping and wrapped around your upperarm. Your breath was caught in your throat and with each breath, breathing was becoming more and more difficult. Hydra? No, this can't be. You're not on a Navy ship, were you all this time by Hydra? Did you ever live in 2023? Did Thanos even attack? Are you still in 1944? All this was a hallucination, a test. A test yes, but for what? Why would Hydra test you, what have you done to deserve this?

You tried to hum It had to be you from Betty Hutton, you heard this version for the first time after you and your team had a small break. It was heavenly to have a distraction and everyone had a small smile on their faces and you could say that this song was a favourite of yours. If you really were in 1944 then was this song only a few months old and in your mind it was logical that a lot of people knew this song. If these men didn't know this one then you were really stuck in the past and not taken by Hydra and if they knew or regconise it then you were in 1944. Yes, this is a great plan! Only thing you had to do is ask some of them if they knew this song, easy. You unclapsed your hand and let it rest on your thigh. Your eyes fell on the ring on your other hand and a sob fell between the sweet melody that you tried to hum and then another sob. A few tears were pooling in your Y/E/C eyes and fell on your cheeks. You put your face into your hands as best as you could ofcourse, to lessen your cries. A woman appeared in your memory, she was just as beautiful as when you last saw her, but this made you wail even more.

Dripping, you felt something dripping on your face and it wasn't tears. You were sent back to reality. You tried to touch the place where you've noticied the dripping, but the cuffs were ratteling and it was pretty hard. You inspected your hand and noticed that your gloved finger had speckles of scarlett on it, so you were bleeding. A head wound maybe. Not maybe, certainly. You expected more of your body but you only could find a few scratches, but what was even worse to you was that your green suit was dirty! Gunpowder and dirt were on it and you sighed in irritation. A few stray tears found their way onto your cheeks and you saw that woman again in your head and later that night in your dreams or nightmares you could say.

A few days later

During your time in this cell you still thought that you were kidnapped by Hydra and it was pretty scary. Yes you could escape on your own, but if it really was Hydra you don't want to get tortured again and again and even if it was not you still were stuck on the ship itself. The cell still stunk but you did your best to clean up the floor with your combat boots. Although you didn't get many visitors down here, you were very wary about the men who still came to visit you. Actually they didn't really visited you, they brought you something to eat (not that it was much). You stared them down and didn't bother to say thank you to them. Why would you say thank you to the people who kidnapped you a few months ago hm? James Norrington didn't visit you and you were glad about that, he could be a nazi for all you know. But if you really were in 1944, why did you have such vivid memories of people that were not even born yet during the Second World War and why did you have nightmares about things that wern't lining up with the war? Your face felt dirty and the wound on your head was now healing on it's own. The wound bothered you, you couldn't even check it and when you asked those men they said no! The audacity.

You heard something on the stairs, you perked your ears and listened for a second, you were anxious. Footsteps, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, but it wasn't one person but more of them maybe three? You thought that they looked stern but a bit anxious too. Where they scared of you? You were landing on the wall and eyed them suspicious. ''Pirate, the Commodore wants to talk to you'' Oh, but in Hydra nobody is called a commodore, so why is James then that being called? ''He said that it was important.'' You weren't really happy that you should see him and frankly the pit in your stomach was growing and growing. But now you had the chance to know if you were in Hydra or not. ''Alright, but first I have a question,'' you could see that they thought it wasn't a good plan, but before they could interrupt you said: ''Do you know the song It had to be you from Betty Hutton? I heard it was pretty popular.'' ''No, now come along. Women do not even make music.'' The other two shaked their head and you knew now that it wasn't Hydra but you gave a stank eye to the man who said that women couldn't make music. You let out a puff of relieve now you knew that you weren't in Hydra. Everything is better than in there. ''Okay, now I'm coming'' you pushed yourself of the wall and one of the men unlocked your prison cell and you followed them to the daylight that you so dearly missed. When you stood on the deck you shielded your eyes from the sun and quickly followed the men, you saw that the others were looking at you but you looked to the ground. So if they weren't Hydra or nazi's, maybe some of them aren't completely evil. Maybe.

You were walking on the deck of the Dauntless and were lead to the cabin of the Commodore, now you knew where you where and what your purpose again was you formed a plan.

Step 1: Try to find out if the Infinity Stones exist here

Step 1,5: If they are here, then eavesdrop on people to get information

Step 2: Try not to die, find the Black Pearl and getting your time travelsuit back

Step 3: Get the location of the Tesseract

Step 4: Go to that location with your timetravelsuit on

Step 5: Get the hell out of here

Simple.

One of the Navy men knocked on the Commodore his cabin and said: ''Commodore, the pirate is here,'' you didn't even try to correct the people anymore. You heard something along the lines of come in and the door was pushed open. ''We're staying here so if you try to do something, you don't get far pirate.'' And they stood in position to guard the door.

You stepped inside and you saw James hunched over a staple of papers, you cleared your throat to alert him and he looked up. He was pretty handsome you noticed and he gestured that you could sit down and gave you something to drink. You tried to clean your face a bit, took the chair that the offered and drank in one gulp your drink up. You laid your hands in your lap and crossed your legs and stared to his desk. It was beautiful with simplistic engravings. ''So you're going to give me the date when I'm supposed to die,'' you mumbled sour. ''I don't want to die,'' you said hopeless. ''Maybe a week ago I wanted to die yes, but now James. Now I have so much to live for, please don't let me get killed.''

He was confused why would you want to be dead?

He didn't say anything but shoved a paper towards your nose. You picked up the paper and began reading, your eyes scrolled over the written words and by each word you smiled harder. ''So I don't get killed?'' ''No you won't,'' ''thank you James.'' He didn't look you into the eye but said: ''How do you know my name when I do not even know yours?'' ''Elizabeth,'' was the only thing you answered. ''That explains why,'' a small smile was on his face when you said her name. ''My name's Y/N Y/L/N by the way. But if I read it correctly I'm going to care for your men with the medic?'' He said yes and you went further. ''I'm not going to listen to the medic, I know that he isn't doing a really good job because if he did I wasn't here in your cabin and I would probably be dead in a few days. Instead of me listening to him, he should be listening to me.'' he looked a bit uncomfortable and his face was written with guilt and you knew that you were right. ''I will tell him that, we also didn't want to execute you because we wanted you to be with your husband,'' and he gestured towards your gloved hand that had a ring on it. Oh, your gleefull expression dropped towards a saddened one and a few tears were forming into your eyes. ''I do not have a husband, Commodore. My partner died a few years ago'' He looked more uncomfortable now and mumbled his apologies. ''My partner was one of the bravest people I knew, sh-he died trying to liberate people.'' and you gave him a weak smile.

''Another thing that I wanted to discuss with you is your sleeping arrangement, we have a room that we do not use and you can sleep in them,'' you mumbled a soft thank you, still thinking about your late soon-to-be-wife. ''And another thing is, that we inspected your belongings and your weapons do not match with the weapons that we know'' and laid your weapons and your medpack on his desk. ''This thing'' and he pointed to the taser, ''No one here did not regconise it like every other weapon here, care to explain?'' You were thinking to gave them an excuse but your mind went blank, not having enough food and water did really mess with someone's brain also it didn't help that you were crying. ''I got it from a gun dealer in France, he said it was the perfect weapon for a woman.'' He pinched his nose bridge and mumbled aggrivitated: ''And how did you even got the other weapons?'' ''I got it from the same gun dealer ofcourse!'' ''You want to give this dealer a name Nurse?'' ''...Jean, yeah Jean,'' ''sure.'' He didn't sound convinced but let it be.

This story is for another time, he thought to himself.

''After this talk you will have a good amount of rest and then you will be helping us. I hope you do not betray us Y/N or otherwise you would still be dead, now go, your room is ready by now.'' You bid him farewell and went outside again.

#james norrington #james norrington imagine #james norrington x reader #commodore norrington #commodore norrington x reader #jack sparrow #elizabeth swann #will turner #marvel #marvelcrossover #bucky barnes #potc #potc fanfic #pirates of the caribbean #marvel fanfic #fanfiction

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lfcology · 3 years

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you’ll float too | fred weasley

summary: another part of the phobia series. FRED LIVES AU! two years after the war, victoire weasley is turning 1 year old! hermione plans the party with muggle surprises including a clown -- something you’ve had a crippling fear of since you were a child. fred is a bit insecure.

pairing: Fem!Reader x Fred.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: None besides the fear of the clowns.

When the war was over, and all the rubble was gone, everyone in the Wizarding World did their best to return to any sense of normality they could. For Hermione and Ron that meant finally exploring a relationship together. For Fred and George, it meant opening up the shop again. Bill and Fleur however had arguably the most exciting change of all.

A year after so many lives were lost, little Victoire Weasley was brought into the world. Molly and Arthur made it their goal to spoil the first Weasley grandchild like no other and all of the siblings were enamoured by the tiny angel. Her hair was a gorgeous blonde that matched her mother’s, but her eyes held the Weasley mischief inherited from her father.

Charlie made it a point to move closer after the war and being away for so long and Percy made sure to stop by every Sunday after he made amends (Molly welcomed her boy back with open arms). Fred was one of the only constants in your life over the years so when he asked for you to move into the flat above the shop with him and George, it was a no brainer. Family time was at an all-time high for the Weasleys so with Victoire's first birthday approaching it was going to be a monumental celebration.

Hermione suggested she plan the party so Bill and Fleur could finally have some much-needed rest (for once). As expected, she was an excellent party planner. Everything was mapped out but the most exciting part for her was her plan to incorporate some muggle traditions into the party. With the Weasleys having never experienced muggle treats like blowing out candles, pinãtas, or (your least favourite) clowns. You were over the moon to be part of this special day, however, when she mentioned bringing a clown you knew you couldn't go. Without thinking, you made up a quick apology as to why you couldn't attend – something about needing to work, covering a shift for someone on short notice.

Being muggle-born meant you were exposed to clowns at a fairly young age through carnivals, parades and parties. You were never overly fond of them, always finding them quite strange but when a friend of yours suggested you read Stephen Kings It, you despised them. They scared you in a way you could barely put into words. From their laughs to their makeup and wigs, it made your skin crawl. As much as you hated them, however, you knew how excited everyone else was to have this muggle experience: Fred and George specifically.

Once Hermione had explained to them that the whole purpose was to tell jokes and make people laugh, the twins were hooked. Much to your dismay, this meant they didn't stop talking about it around the flat and both had quite the pouts when you said you couldn't go (they were almost convincing enough to make you change your mind).

"You've never worked a Saturday until now," Fred said as he crossed his arms. "Can't someone else cover? Why does it have to be you?"

You sighed from your spot in the bath. You'd set up a lovely spa evening for yourself as Fred was supposed to be working late like he did every Friday. However, 10 minutes into your bubble bath and champagne time, he was home and questioning you. You two had been dating for 2 years and friends for even longer so it wasn't hard for him to tell you were hiding something.

"It's a scheduling mistake I made." You shrugged. "It's too late to get someone to cover."

His only reply was a not so intimidating scowl. Which made you sigh and sit up from the tub a bit more (the bubbles hiding all the important stuff). "Everyone else will be there Freddie, it'll be okay." Fred sat on the closed toilet seat and undid his tie from around his neck. He was tired from a busy work week and didn't feel like arguing with you but he wanted answers.

"Georgie and I are closing the shop for it.... 'Mione is getting time off from the Ministry too. Even Harry ended an Auror mission early!" You rubbed your temples and sighed: if there was one thing about Fred Weasley, it was that he was stubborn as hell. What you didn't expect however, was what he said next.

"Listen, George thinks it's something else but you're hiding something and avoiding me and-" He sighed looking away from you as his shoulders sagged. "Are you cheating on me?"

You stared at him with your mouth agape. Did he have so little faith in you? You needed to make sure he knew the truth ASAP – you never meant your white lie to lead to this. "I never meant to-" You began.

"Who is it?" He asked, jaw clenching.

"Fred-" You said getting up and wrapping yourself in a towel. "I would-" He tried to cut you off again but you'd had enough of him pointing fingers. "I'm scared of clowns!" You all but shouted at him.

He was confused, to say the least.

"What?"

"I'm scared of clowns." You repeated more firmly as you walked closer to him. He was still quite speechless, to be honest, he'd prepared himself for the worst after all. Fred, despite many thinking he was incredibly carefree, overthought absolutely everything. George tried to be a voice of reason and calm him down but once the idea of you hiding something from him entered his mind – it spiralled.

"Freddie, I would never ever cheat on you. You're the only one I'll ever want." You reassured as you stroked his shoulders. He sat up straight and looked up at you from where you stood between his legs. "I knew you and Georgie were excited about the clown coming so I didn't want to ruin the mood and mention that they scared me." You said softly.

His hands found their way to your hips and he ducked his head in embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to assume the worst but you know how I can be sometimes." He chuckled sheepishly. "You wouldn't have ruined the fun love, I'm sure if we mention it to Hermione she can cancel the clown."

"No!" You interjected. "Victoire will probably love it and I don't plan on ruining even more peoples fun..."

"Victoire also loves you," Fred reassured and squeezed your hips gently. "And she may not remember her first birthday but I'm sure she'd rather see you in the photos than a grown man dressed up in a silly costume."

You leaned down and kissed his softly feeling relieved for the first time in a while – he always had a way with words. "Why don't we change into some PJs then talk about why you're scared of them?"

Fred, having so many siblings, was extremely good when it came to being open and communicating one's fears and dreams. The pair of you got into comfier clothes (you donned in one of his old quidditch sweaters for an extra sense of comfort when discussing such a daunting subject). Once you two were settled on the double bed you shared, you reached under and pulled out a worn down box. Inside you found a few knickknacks that never found a place when you moved in with Fred and a tattered copy of It. Despite being the bane of your existence it looked well-loved from being lent out to friends, cried on and thrown around over the years.

"This is It." You said laying the book in your lap. Fred quirked his eyebrow in confusion and took the book as you explained more. "When I was younger, my friend suggested I read this. It's about an evil killer clown named Pennywise."

Fred nodded along and read the description on the back of the book. His brows furrowed in concentration as he looked through the worn-out pages.

"This does seem rather frightening." He said after you looked at him expectantly. "Especially if you read this as a kid!" You nodded and felt relief wash over you when he didn't laugh or make fun. You'd always thought it was a stupid fear to have – something that was meant to bring joy to people ended up terrifying you.

"What really got me was the film." You began. "There's a muggle adaptation and seeing the clown made it so much more real." You shivered as you explained.

"I reckon I could take him." He said puffing his chest out proudly. It wasn't what you expected him to say but when has Fred Weasley ever been one that someone can easily read? Your hand came up to your mouth and you stifled a giggle.

"In what way?" You teased.

"Well, in terms of comedy I've got him beat hands down! Eating kids isn't funny so I reckon he's a terrible clown." He replied not quite understanding that you were egging him on. He was more focused on proving his superiority over Pennywise. "And phyically! I'm 6'4" and even though I don't play Quidditch as regularly anymore I don't doubt I'm still more fit than some old cannibal git."

You couldn't hold back your booming chuckles anymore and leaned back in bed laughing as he stood up. "I'll give him the one-two Weasley special!" He continued as he adjusted his PJs more comfortably. The contagious smile on your face was enough to tell him that his plan was working.

"He'd try to-" He took a bite of the air as if Pennywise was biting at him. "And I'd-" He followed up with a swing of his arm and a kick of his leg.

"My hero..." You said climbing off the bed and hugging him around his middle. He gave you a dimply smile and pressed his lips to yours quickly. "'M the only clown allowed in your life. I promise to fight off all the others."

"You have got the red hair and pale skin after all." You chuckled poking him in the side.

"Don't act like you wouldn't let me bite you." He replied cheekily.

By the time the next day came you felt much more at ease with Fred knowing how you felt. The icing on the cake was that the clown wasn't funny at all. Fred and George stepped in to do their own show after the comedy flop and the finale was Fred challenging the other clown to a brawl before sending a wink your way. Victoire had the time of her life and unanimously everyone agreed that the twins were a much more fitting form of entertainment.

Maybe clowns aren’t so bad after all.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley oneshot #harry potter #weasley family x reader #phobia series

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gureishi · 3 years

Note

12 with Seven and a female MC, NSFW please ^^

Thank you for the wonderful request! And oh boy do I apologize if this wasn’t what you wanted. O_O My imagination was positively THRILLED by this prompt and this...is where it went.

I sincerely hope you DO enjoy this, because god knows I enjoyed writing about it. But seriously if you want a...tamer...NSFW Saeyoung story for this prompt, tell me and I’ll write that one too?? For real??

twelve: born to be together

Saeyoung X Reader; E (M/F sex, roleplaying, light dom/sub, assplay), words: 2941

If it wasn’t already abundantly clear (lol): smut warning, proceed with caution~ <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

You stand in the walk-in closet, in a forest of brightly-colored and bedazzled fabrics. They’re not organized by any discernible method, but they’re all hung neatly, some in plastic dry-cleaning bags and others draped multiple times over their hangers so they don’t touch the floor. You run a hand down the line of costumes, feeling lace and fur and taffeta. There are some here that are familiar: a maid outfit you’ve seen numerous times and a fuzzy full-body cat suit you find particularly charming. There are others that you’re sure you’ve never seen before.

“Saeyoung?” you call, and he hums in response: he’s sprawled across the bed, playing a game on his phone. “Why haven’t I ever seen you wear most of these?”

He laughs. “There are literally hundreds of outfits in there, babe. You’ve lived here for what, three months? When was I gonna wear them all? You want me to do a fashion show for you?”

You perk up, lifting a sequined tutu to the light so you can see it shimmer. “Yes, please!”

“Just say the word, baaaby,” he sings, drawing out the syllables. He’s teasing, but you’re serious: there is not one thing in this huge, chaotic closet that wouldn’t suit him. You comb through the racks, pushing past a denim mini dress, a full-on space suit, and what looks like a…sexy penguin costume? Okay, maybe not that one.

Toward the back of the closet, in a corner (you’ve got to help him organize all this stuff, you think), there’s a floor-length zip-up bag garment bag. You squish it—there’s something very fluffy in there.

“Hey, what’s in the fancy bag?” you call over your shoulder. You hear a soft flop as he tosses his game aside and the ruffling of the covers as he leaps off the bed. He appears behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Ohhh, this one?” He sounds pleased; he nuzzles the back of your neck with his nose and you squirm, ticklish. “Unzip it and see,” he offers.

You do, and your mouth falls open: in the bag is what you can only describe as a literal princess gown. It’s ballet slipper pink, with layers and layers of chiffon trailing all the way to the ground. The bodice is fitted and embellished with thousands of tiny gemstones.

“What mission was this for?” you gasp, fingering the gauzy, frothy top layer of the skirt.

“Not a mission,” he murmurs into your neck. “Just wanted it.”

Saeyoung skims his hands down your sides, sliding them into both of the front pockets of your jeans.

“I don’t want to know what this cost, do I?” you ask. He cackles.

“You probably don’t.”

Hands in your pockets, he pulls you flush against his body. Maybe it’s the luxurious feeling of the skirt on your fingertips and maybe it’s the insistent way he’s pressing against you, but you have an idea—a revelation.

“I want you to wear it for me,” you say. You slip out of his grasp, spinning to face him—you watch his eyes widen and his cheeks flush as he takes in your serious expression.

“Ohhhh?” he lilts, cocking his head to the side. “So when you say you want me to wear it, you mean…?” He’s teasing you, his hands on your skin again, dancing over your hips, up your sides.

“I mean exactly what you think I mean,” you tell him, and you reach out and stroke his cheek with your fingertips, delighted to feel that, in spite of his posturing, his skin is so warm—he’s flustered, and he melts a little under your intense gaze, his eyes roaming over your body.

He pauses, and for a split second, in spite of his apparent eagerness, you think he might say no. But then he springs into action, grabbing the hanger off the rack, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, and sprinting out of the closet.

“Gimme twenty minutes—no, ten!” he calls to you, already disappearing around the corner, through the bedroom, into the en suite bathroom. You grin, patting your own flushed cheeks with both hands. This, you think, will be worth waiting for.

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

In spite of his promises, it’s actually closer to thirty minutes before he emerges again. You lay on your stomach on the unmade bed, half-heartedly scrolling on your phone. The anticipation coils in your stomach. In spite of yourself, you keep glancing up at the closed bathroom door—picturing him there, half-dressed, penciling in his eyebrows with those nimble fingers of his. Knowing that he’s doing this for you—it makes you clench your thighs together, squirming against the bunched-up comforter. Come on, you think.

And just then, as if he’s heard your silent plea, he pushes the door open a crack—just enough for you to catch the tiniest glimpse of an ankle peeking out under perfectly-arranged layers of pink gauze.

“Baby,” he calls, his voice soft, and you sit up straight. “Are you ready for me?”

You’ve never been readier for anything.

“I’m waiting,” you tell him.

So he flings open the bathroom door, and for a moment even you—you, the one who looks at him all day and sleeps beside him every night—are floored. There is a stunningly, jaw-droopingly beautiful woman in your bedroom, long red hair trailing effortlessly over her bare shoulders, thin waist accented delightfully by the tight bodice, toned legs just barely visible through the layers and layers of translucent fabric. Her features are soft, her golden eyes gaze just slightly downward, and one hand rests on her chest, thin fingers hovering just above the dress’s glittering neckline.

“Hi,” Saeyoung murmurs coyly. You feel like your head is going to explode.

“Come here, princess,” you call, and it takes all your willpower to keep your voice level. He obliges you, stepping delicately over the rug, holding up his billowing skirt with one dainty hand. He perches on the edge of the bed, flips a lock of hair over his shoulder. The wig matches his natural hair color and cascades voluminously down his back. He’s perfectly in character: he keeps his eyes lowered and his cheeks are flushed a dusty pink.

“Like this?” he asks, and he leans back the tiniest bit, letting the light catch his semi-translucent skirt, highlighting the silhouette of his thighs through the glistening fabric.

“Just like that,” you whisper. It’s not the first time you’ve taken the lead, but it’s not the norm, either—being in charge feels frightening and exhilarating. “May I touch you, princess?”

He nods, and the flush on the tips of his ears is real, not makeup—and even through the countless layers of fabric that make up his skirt, it’s evident that he’s already starting to get excited.

You sit up on your knees behind him and run a hand over his bare shoulders, part the soft hair that covers his back, wrap them around the back of his neck. He shudders.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?” you whisper in his ear, and you feel the way his shoulders quiver eagerly. You grip his neck just a little tighter.

“I’ll be good,” he murmurs sweetly, and it’s already almost too much for you. You squeeze your legs together, impatient to touch him, eager to see his perfect demeanor shattered.

One hand still on his neck, you snake your other arm around his waist, which is dramatically cinched by the tight bodice. You stroke up his torso, curious, and feel the curve of what are quiet obviously breasts straining against the ruched fabric, peeking out over the tauntingly low neckline.

“I like these,” you whisper, and he arches his back, leaning into your touch. He laughs a soft, bubbling laugh—and it’s an act, a character, but there is some of Saeyoung’s delightful giggle in it too. Your hand roams across his chest and you slip one finger into the impeccable cleavage he’s created (you’ll have to ask him how, later).

Then you slip your other hand from his throat and explore lower, lower, across his hip, his thigh. You dip your head and take the soft skin of his shoulder between your teeth, biting hard enough to leave a small, half-moon-shaped mark. He whimpers, and you move your hand down his thigh, pointedly avoiding the erection that you can now see very clearly through the layers of chiffon. You taunt him, nipping his neck again, sliding the skirt up so you can drag your fingernails across his leg. He’s trying so hard to stay still, but his hips give him away, rocking forward the tiniest bit, seeking relief against the silky fabric.

“Are you going to let me fuck you, princess?” you hiss against his skin—and it’s a tease, but it’s a genuine question, too.

A moan tears from his throat, quiet yet desperate. He keeps his hands neatly folded in his lap but his eyes flutter shut and his hips wriggle as you pinch the skin of his thigh.

“P-please,” he whines, and he leans his head back, eyelids fluttering shut. “Please, I want you to…”

“Don’t move,” you tell him, and he obeys, sits perfectly still on the edge of the bed, his skirt splayed out artfully around him. He makes a perfect picture, you think—head reclined, yearning evident in every tense muscle of his body.

You go to the bedside cabinet and pull out the things you need: the little pink bottle of lube and a toy—a thin, smooth dildo, light-colored and fairly unobtrusive. You slip it out of its harness, deciding to use it in your hand today—and you return to him, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. He’s opened his eyes and he’s taking you in, standing over him, the toy in your hand—his beautiful eyes are huge and desperate.

“On your hands and knees, honey,” you purr, and he complies eagerly, climbing gracefully onto the bed and arching his back for you. “Don’t tease me,” you say, and he trembles. The skirt billows out around him and you set down the toy so you can slip a hand under his dress, over his silky-smooth thighs (did he shave his legs?). You’re delighted to find that he’s not wearing anything under the gown.

You run your hand up his thigh; he’s sticking his ass in the air, practically begging for you, and you slap it, face breaking into a smile as he whimpers.

“How bad do you want me right now, beautiful?” you ask him, and he moans softly, his legs shaking.

“I need you,” he hisses, and he sounds a little less like a princess and a little more like Saeyoung. You suck your index finger, wetting it, and then you slip it up and under his skirt and inside him. He reacts immediately, thighs shaking as he struggles to hold himself up, gasping for air. You slide your finger a little bit deeper inside him and you can’t help but grind your hips against the edge of the bed as you do, hopelessly turned on by the noises he’s making. He adjusts, widening his hips for you, and you curl your finger inside him, gently increasing the pressure and watching him come apart before your eyes.

“I’m r-ready,” he pants, “please,” and you pull your finger out of him, warming the toy with both hands as you liberally smear it with lube.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” you tell him, and you can barely keep your voice from shaking. “I don’t want you to make a sound till I say so, princess.”

He quivers in anticipation but doesn’t say a word. Almost without thinking, you unbutton and unzip your jeans, slip one hand down, down, over your underwear. The need you feel is overwhelming.

With one finger pressed against your clit, over your underwear, you take the dildo in your other hand and slide it over his ass, down, and finally inside him. His legs shake uncontrollably and for a moment you think he’ll fall—but he doesn’t, he stays on his hands and knees, back bent for you, and though his pleasure is evident in the way he throws his head back, hair falling everywhere, he’s quiet—just like you asked him to be.

You gasp, impossibly aroused by the sight of him like this, the delicate skirt falling every which way. You wish you could see his face, the ruined look in his eyes, but you settle for the sight of his ass and thighs shaking, framed seductively by layers of pink gauze. You slide the dildo deeper inside him and he twitches, gasping. At the same time, you move your finger over your swollen clit, moaning softly as you give yourself the stimulation you’ve been craving.

He’s so good, so obedient, so quiet, trembling as you fuck him with the toy and fuck yourself with your finger. He pushes back against you and his arms give out; he bends forward, face pressed into the bed. Your own legs are shaking like they don’t want to hold you up anymore but both your hands are occupied, so you lean harder against the bed, hissing as you move your finger in tight circles against yourself and angle the toy upward, questing for his p spot.

You’re going to come, you think—you’re going to come so fast, from your own hand, as you watch your boyfriend clad in this extravagant gown falling to pieces before you.

“I want you to come with me,” you hiss, moving your finger quicker and more frantically against yourself, “and I want to hear you.”

He moans immediately as if he’s been fighting to hold it back all this time, rocking his hips back into the toy. You can tell he’s close and you are too, driven half-mad by the sight of him. You rub your faster, faster, and you slide the toy in and up, penetrating him deeper. He groans, and there is still some of the pretty, modest princess in his voice, because god this boy knows how to stay in character, but the unbidden desperation is there too. He’s on the edge, you can tell, and you feel the telltale sensation of your toes curling, your thighs clenching…

And you throw your head back, continuing the pressure with your finger as the pleasure crests, thrusting into him more roughly, begging him to come with you…

And he does come, from the toy alone, his cock untouched—yelping as he rocks forward, his face buried deep in the pile of blankets on the bed and his whole body shaking…

And you feel tears in your eyes as you let yourself be taken over by the sensations, overwhelmed by the pleasure gripping you…

And he’s moaning, high-pitched and beautiful, crying for you to keep going…

And stars burst beneath your eyelids and you can’t see, thrusting into him one more time, knowing you’re hitting just the right spot as he sobs out your name.

And it slows, slows, and he’s panting, and you catch your breath and slip your hand out of your pants, pulling out of him with a trembling hand. He’s still shaking too, a quivering, beautiful mess gauze and tulle.

“You okay, babe?” you gasp, crawling up onto the bed beside him. He turns his head and you catch your first glimpse of his face—deliciously wrecked, mascara under his eyes and bright pink spots on his cheeks.

“I…I…wow,” he manages, finally sitting back on his heels. He’s in disarray, his hair in his eyes, his skirt sticking to his legs. “That was new,” he says quietly, his eyes shining as he tucks the long, fake hair behind his ears. “I never came like that before, just from…”

“I know.”

“The dress…” He laughs, pulling apart the unkempt layers of gaze.

“I guarantee I can figure it out,” you say, giggling, collapsing onto the pile of pillows. “I’ll just google ‘how to get cum out of ball gown.’”

“Oh god.” He grimaces, twisting and falling onto his back beside you. The skirt still manages to billow out splendidly around his legs. “Maybe…don’t google that.”

You turn and kiss him on the lips, sighing contentedly as he responds with enthusiasm, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Thanks for doing that for me,” you say. “That was…a fantasy I didn’t know I had, till today."

He grins against your lips.

“Oh, I knew I had that fantasy,” he says, skating his hand up your leg, around your waist. “But you…you…”

“Hmmmm?” You curl into him, finding that the fake breasts make a surprisingly comfortable pillow.

“I never thought I’d be loved the way you love me,” he says, kissing your cheek, your eyebrow, your forehead. “I didn’t think a person like you existed.”

“Course I do,” you tell him, flipping the skirt over his hip so you can rest your hand against his thigh. His skin really is amazingly soft. “We were always going to find each other.”

“Next time,” he says, melting into your touch, kissing your earlobe. “Dress up as a sexy prince for me, babe?”

You tuck his wig behind his ear and kiss his beautiful, smudged, wrecked, perfect face. “Anything for you, princess.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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jadelynlace · 3 years

Text

a dead woman tells no tales / vikings fiction

series based on Lady Lazarus, a poem by Sylvia Plath.

chapter four / catch up here

synopsis: He left you for dead and now you’re back.

author’s note: the one small detail the reader has, is that she is a red head.

specific chapter content warning(s): mentions of blood, torture (aftermath), suicide and sexual content below the cut (female receiving oral, during her cycle). also note that I included a favorite quote of mine per their characterization and dynamic.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✄

Noticing the blue sky, it stung in your mind the same shade Ivar’s eyes had been the last night you saw him. Preoccupation with the thoughts of torture—wine red blood slipping between your fingers as shone to Ivar while his absurd laughter overtakes the vicinity—you keep a fair distance from him as he spun the tales back from his own memory. You had no prior knowledge of the day you two were in the field, overcome with sudden whispers in your ears that the visions you saw so clearly dancing on your closed eyelids were no longer there. That they were not real. Stumbled together in a stew of colliding past details, but you two always went to that forest, you two always snuck away, you two always took swords and daggers to each other for practice, you always kissed his cheek when you were to head back and he would always grab you face to plant your lips on his instead. Your mind knew up to that, then your head spoke of the rocks, how your spine felt along their backing, leaves at your feet with Ivar looking over you—but he was standing as he gazed—he could not stand long enough, even then, to examine your injuries to gather if he should carry you back or bring back the aid.

What Ivar told you was a far fetched tale of haggard details, how he told you then of his plans to follow where he was destined, how he would not let you raid, battle alongside him. How you were to wait, or pass time with others who were better than the crippled boy you so loved. How you stopped meeting him in the forest to practice and how when he went days without word from you, sight of you, he went to that spot in the forest once more. Your legs swinging from the ledge as he could see the sunshine in your hair lighting it like a fire, a brief turn back to him with the softest smile he remembers, and then you fell forwards. Dropping his swords and crawling across the ground to see you on the rocks below, eyes dead yet still stuck on him. By the time he made haste back, few in his wake there was a shadow of crimson on the slate but you were gone. Ivar went on with his troops so plainly disturbed by what he watched he had spent every night since locked in a dream of its repetition.

For days now, you wanted no sight of him, no word, no touch. You begged the Gods for silence, to answer you and gift upon you the details you did not remember. You wanted the great wings of the overhead birds to carry you back in time to re-watch the story, to see where Ivar had pushed you, but the longer you harped on such instances, the clearer his story unraveled in your mind.

The stars were powerful above you as your feet carried you to the overgrown area you had spent too long trying to stray from. How the sky gathered out before you as you looked up through cracklings of branches while simply laying among the brush. How the darkness spoke to you of your sadness, your directory of losing Ivar to consume you into a guilt that you were not good enough for him. Enough to fight with him. For him and his crippled legs, that you were not enough. The moon was vacant from the sky, the slithers of a blanket of blackness coated the woods and you alike as you could suddenly hear the whimpers of a woman. Sitting up slowly, your dagger in your grip your mind told you that you were seeing the young girl you remembered to be, stuck on the cold stone crying to the immortals above to set Ivar’s mind in the right path, to make you stronger, or to just keep him safe on the voyage. You hear bitter sarcasm spoken back, an evil spirit answering your voice in deep pity, and then as you try to look away from your own body sitting perched, everything lightens. Your head is on a swivel as the unclear figure looms in the distance and you know that crooked stance to belong to Ivar. You watch how he approaches you. You watch yourself smile back so gently. You watch him with his eyes on you. You watch yourself fall forwards. You watch Ivar drop, hastily maneuvering himself to the ledge and you watch him scream. Your body shoots up in the forest as if it was pulled back like an arrow, your chest heaving as the night terror passes back through your vision and you know now Ivar was telling the truth.

You had met cunning women before, serpents of lies who leech, return to the grounds like the nine lives of a feline, but Freydis holds a spot in your mind that fits not of that. There is a vileness about her, the way her blonde hair curls across her breasts, how her hips have widened from bringing forth a child Ivar was so hopeful to teach as his own. As she sees you in Ivar quarters, a brief wave of confusion passes down the bridge of her nose before she raises it up towards the structure’s ceiling.

“Has he wed you?” She asks but you scoff in reply. “Has he promised you the ends of our world? His devotion? Has he promised to change from the monster that he is?” Your head tips slightly in interest, longing to see how far this woman may crawl to spite the name of the man she hurt. “Has he promised to stop the terrible things he does?” But her mouth closes too soon for your liking.

“I am not here to wed Ivar the Boneless,” You answer.

“Then why are you here before me?” Freydis asks as you finally smile.

“To watch you bleed,”

You peeled Freydis’ skin like a cloth. The pits where her eyes once lived housed the curve of your dagger, you carved holes where out leapt her organs and pooled red paste along the floor. The height of her lungs through her chest, how the hair on her head could make wigs to barter, the bones could be gathered for handles on your wardrobe. While Freydis had been untangled like a scrunched ball of yarn, you remain of skin and bones, unchanged. It was art, how Freydis’ perished. It was art how you held the red soaked blade to Ivar’s tongue as he lapped the blood away from the forged metal. It was art how the soak of the wet fabrics took the day of torture from your hands as Ivar washed you in the river.

“You have gifted me love, despite the horror,” Ivar says out of nowhere during the silence of the water across your bodies. “I thought I would not want your love unless you really knew how repulsive I am. But you still love me even as you know of it,”

“I jumped, Ivar,” You then whisper. “I remember now,”

“I know,”

“I jumped because I was confused; how you spoke of my skills but would not let me raid alongside you. How you wanted me to find happiness with another man who was not you; but if it was not you, then who else was going to love me?” You’re unsure of the wetness across your face to be from the droplets of wet hair, or the tears from your lashes, Ivar’s arms heavily around you.

“Tell me every terrible thing you have done since that jump, Y/N. And I let me love you still,”

Sunlight dries both of you, heated skin tickled across the grass as you two are there to lay far longer than deemed appropriate. Wisps of flowers along your thighs as the wind become the only noise in your ears before the beat from within Ivar’s chest comes next. You covet the time alone with Ivar, how you two would spend the afternoons in search of creatures in the clouds, how he has changed to become a man of tough steel. Your monthly blood came not soon after Freydis was drained of hers, still streaking your inner thighs despite how long you spend changing your linens. Another wave of pressure nudges just top of your womanhood and you hiss slightly, maneuvering off of the fur to stand level and hope it will drain more. Your nudity along the bed catches Ivar first when he enters, across a plain of fabric still cleaning the crimson from your skin.

“I assumed I got it all in the water,” Ivar states when he is on the furs.

“It is my blood, Ivar,” You whisper back, his head turning to catch your gaze. “My monthly blood, I am not hurt,” You assure him. He pulls a fur to cover your shoulders, taking his time to unlatch the beginning parts of the casts, watchful to see if your eyes linger on how he works. “I will take them off if you would like,” You say softly but he snaps his disapproval of your quick idea. You compensate the moment of silence by tending back to yourself, ready to toss the rag for another one and pray the bleeding does not last longer than it should. There’s a new cloth next to your knee before you’re able to rise for another one. As you lay back, Ivar still sits, swinging the tied limbs over the bed as you cast eyes up to the ceiling. The first stroke of the wet cloth on your skin at the end of Ivar’s hand jolts you, curling your knees together and away from him.

“I can not work if you do not stay open,” Ivar says to you, a raise of his brow in challenge.

“You do not clean me,” You say back, climbing forwards to grab the cloth but Ivar holds it too high for your reach at your angle. “Ivar do not be childish,”

“I will clean you,” He states. “How is cleaning you now different than in the river?”

“Because that was blood of another—blood from a battle, this blood is mine, and mine only. I will clean it,” You say back but he still keeps his arm stuck though the air.

“I will clean my queen,” Ivar then says. “Let me,”

“I am not your queen,” You huff back, you arms dropping to bring you back to your position of laying. It would be tale of lies if his words did not catch you with your guard down. You did not plan, not now, to wed Ivar. But the first few breaths after his statement makes those thoughts fade like the sunset. “As you wish,” You finally say, rolling your eyes to take in the vicinity and turning your head away from him. He provides no movements, transfixed on the slight color change that takes over the lips of your cunt with the leeched moon cycle. How it had caressed your legs’ inner flesh, over the scar he had asked of and how it sticks against you. He remembers how Freydis’ blood tasted on your blade, and Ivar wonders how much sweeter yours must be flavored. The next brush against your skin is warm, and you remember the cloth to have gone frigid. Your head cranes quickly to see Ivar between your legs, looking back to you as his tongue drags closer to your middle. His chest heaves as his arms curl around your bent legs, rolling himself to lay between them as his tongue moves the same. A quick rush of air enters your mouth before his lips are against your cunt, slowly tasting the crimson that has stained you. His moan comes low from in his chest, eyes since closed as his hands pull at you further to spread, tingling a peeking pleasure against you as he laps. You don’t notice right away how your nails dig against the furs, how they move to dance over your own chest or how the old pulse in your abdomen has been overruled by bliss. His tongue is warm still as his mouth studies you, drinking you, and as you moan back Ivar replies with his own. His name is hot against your mouth when your spine arches, but he shows no hints of stopping, trying to grip roughly against your thighs as they shake, twist and turn with your hips as a creep of your release moves closer. He does not pull back until you have screamed his name as a chant as you come, raking your nails against your breasts in attempts to quiet yourself but it pitiful how unsuccessful you are. He only looks up at you as your breathing slows, his mouth stained with your blood and release as he cleans it with the back of his own hand. His eyes now almost as dark as the night sky as he crawls back over you and he is all you feel.

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years

Text

Sure! I loved writing these, hope you like them <3 Also, here’s the Dabi + Shigaraki relationship headcanons SFW & NSFW

|| SFW ||

Keigo would want your relationship to stay hidden from the media and the Hero Public Safety Commission. They have access to almost everything he is, does and owns, so he rather keep them away from you. He wouldn’t want them interfering with something he really cares about.

Your relationship with him grew organically, there was no formal question asked. You had kept bumping into each other at random places, so after thinking you were very attractive, he asked for your number. You thought it was a joke because why would the Numer Two Hero actually give you his real number, but hey, that same night he texted you. Months after him stopping by your place to eat take out and chat about everything and nothing, he kissed you.

You did your best not to interpret his kiss as anything more than that but a couple of weeks of kissing later, he referred to you as “his girl” once he was teasing you through text and you just knew.

His favourite kind of dates is sitting on your living room floor and eating take-out (preferably something with chicken). You chat until it’s past midnight and then go to sleep or watch a movie until both of you do.

Keigo’s favourite sleeping position is him on top of you, resting his head between your neck and chest. He loves when you fall asleep caressing his wings. He also likes sleeping on his side, but his arm always ends up in a strange position when he tries to spoon you.

He loves making playlists. He has a playlist for almost every occasion. Once, you were sitting down on the floor after having dinner and he suddenly asked you to dance. You expected some silly music, probably the one you would hear at a nightclub, especially when he turned the lights off, the only light coming from the moon peeking through your open window. You were pleasantly surprised when he pressed play and took you in his arms, slow-dancing to probably the corniest but also most beautiful playlist you’ve ever heard. Your love for him only grew when, after a bunch of songs, you took his phone to pause it and realized Keigo named the playlist after you.

Has a habit of sending one of his red feathers flying through the sky until it reaches your always open living room window. It’s a reminder he’s thinking about you even if he’s not around and you always smile whenever you find one of those.

While on public he’s always smiling, agreeing to selfies and signing autographs, his social battery tends to drain out when he’s at your place. Sometimes he wants to be with you, but he doesn’t really want to talk. He’ll just watch TV on the couch or take a nap on your bed. You’re more than welcome to join him, though, but please don’t talk. He just needs to feel you there without the need of having to fill the silence with words.

It’s very important you understand both of his sides. It’s not that his Hawks persona is entirely fake, he really likes making cheeky comments and teasing you until your whole face is burning. But he also lives a very complicated life, not only as a hero but also because of the way he was raised, to serve the Hero Public Safety Commission and do what he’s told to do. Behind his TV smiles, there’s a kid who lost his childhood and one of the things he loves about you is that, with the small amount of information he’s managed to tell you so far, you’ve understood the depth of his character and learnt when to give him space and when to cuddle him with a big grin.

Keigo’s philosophy is always oriented to the greater good, so he has a problem with putting himself first. His choices will always go to which one will bring peace to the world in the most immediate manner. That’s one of his main issues when you two start dating. You’ve taught him that is okay to choose himself from time to time, but it’s difficult to change what he’s been taught at such a young age. This will lead to him missing dates or taking on missions he doesn’t really want to do just because the Hero Public Safety Council tells him to do so.

One of your favourite bird-like characteristics of him is the fact that Keigo likes to collect little items from each one of his favourite dates with you. He has a drawer filled with folded-up receipts, a couple of taps of soda bottles, the extra disposable chopsticks the restaurant had accidentally sent you the first night you ate together at your place, a pen from the hotel where you two had spent a night under fake names with the help of a wig and the tape you used to hide Hawks wings under a trenchcoat. You sometimes wonder if your missing earrings are there as well.

Your least favourite one is the fact he’s always up at ungodly hours of the morning, no matter which time he went to bed. He’s learnt to stay on the bed until you wake up, though. Sometimes, he will wake you up with a trail of kisses from your neck to your shoulder. Other times, he will find a more creative way...

|| NSFW ||

Yes, you guessed it. There have been times where you have woken up, feeling Keigo’s erection grazing the back of your thighs. When you do, you tend to turn around and kiss him, but sometimes you decide to play with him a little. You will play-pretend to be asleep, trying to cover your smile when Keigo, quickly catching on, jokingly laments you’re still asleep. “Aw, I wanted to play with my baby bird” he will say, softly playing with your nipples and leaving small kisses on your shoulder. “Too bad she’s still asleep. Maybe… there’s a way I can wake her up…” he says, as he slowly pushes himself inside your already wet core.

Keigo only has to modes: animalistic, rough sex or quiet, caring sex. There are times he’s going to take you on all fours, his fist grabbing your hair from behind and other times he will lay between your thighs, grunting against your neck, his hands settled on your waist as you circle his hips with your legs.

There are a lot of fun times, though. Sometimes you’re riding him while he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and one bad movement bends his cock. You both groan at the pain as you quickly remove yourself, but end up laughing so much it takes a while before you can resume your previous activity. He also never lets you forget the time you accidentally fell off the bed while he was taking you sideways and thrusted particularly hard.

One of his favourite things to do is sitting you on the kitchen counter, kneeling between your thighs and eating you out. He loves leaving you hanging, stopping just before you’re about to come and have you beg him to bring his mouth back on you.

Keigo also really likes overstimulating you. Once he lets you come, he’ll keep his mouth on your folds, wanting to see how many times he can make you come.

He’s all up for pleasing you. He really liked when you comfortable enough with him to tell him what kinks you wanted to try out. You set out a whole night for exploring. It started with spanking and somehow it ended up with you dropping hot wax on his chest. Even if most of the things you tried out didn’t stick, it was probably the most intimate night you two had, laughing when you discovered the wax had stained your sheets and him accidentally swallowing the Halls candy he had on his mouth while eating you out.

I can see Keigo being really into role-playing. He especially enjoys situations where he’s in control and you’re more than happy to give it go him. You haven’t experimented too much into this, but he definitely loves face-fucking you, seeing the tears running down your cheeks.

One day, you were coming out of the shower and felt really confident in how you looked. Knowing you had a date with Keigo that night, you snapped a nude photo of yourself kneeling with your legs wide open on your bed in front of the mirror. You grinned to yourself when you got a text back: “fuuuuuuck. you’re a whole course meal, baby. can’t wait for tonight”. Your giddiness stopped when that night, as you opened the door for him, you saw a bruise on his forehead. Concerned, you asked him about it, only to laugh loudly when he explained he had crashed into a lamppost when he opened your message.

#hawks x reader #bnha x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo x reader #bnha hawks #mha hawks #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #keigo takami #takami keigo

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accioromione · 4 years

Note

Harry Potter's point of view (canon compliant) about Ron and Hermione's relationship just after the war. Or Harry's point of view about their relationship during the books is also fine. [ we have read the books through his eyes and no one really has covered this or I haven't seen one like this so would love to read something written by you cuz I love your writing ] Thanksss! :))

The sun rose steadily over Hogwarts, and the Great Hall blazed with life and light. Harry was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration. They wanted him there with them, their leader and symbol, their savior and their guide, and that he had not slept, that he craved the company of only a few of them, seemed to occur to no one. He must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks, hear the news now creeping in from every quarter as the morning drew on; that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic.

They moved Voldemort’s body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey, and fifty others who had died fighting him. McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting “according to House anymore: All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, and Firenze lay recovering in a corner, and Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth. After a while, exhausted and drained, Harry found himself sitting on a bench beside Luna. “I’d want some peace and quiet, if it were me,” she said. “I’d love some,” he replied. “I’ll distract them all,” she said. “Use your Cloak.” And before he could say a word she had cried, “Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!” and pointed out of the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and Harry slid the Cloak up over himself, and got to his feet. Now he could move through the Hall without interference. He spotted Ginny two tables away; she was sitting with her head on her mother’s shoulder: There would be time to talk later, hours and days and maybe years in which to talk. He saw Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside his plate as he ate, surrounded by a knot of fervent admirers. Along the aisle between the tables he walked, and he spotted the three Malfoys, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention. Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most. “It’s me,” he muttered, crouching down between them. “Will you come with me?” They stood up at once, and together he, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they climbed. Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter’s the one, And Voldy’s gone moldy, so now let’s have fun!

“Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn’t it?” said Ron, pushing open a door to let Harry and Hermione through. Happiness would come, Harry thought, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion, and the pain of losing Fred and Lupin and Tonks pierced him like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all he felt the most stupendous relief, and a longing to sleep. But first he owed an explanation to Ron and Hermione, who had stuck with him for so long, and who deserved the truth. Painstakingly he recounted what he had seen in the Pensieve and what had happened in the forest, and they had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement when at last they arrived at the place to which they had been walking, though none of them had mentioned their destination. Since he had last seen it, the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster’s study had been knocked aside; it stood lopsided, looking a little punch-drunk, and Harry wondered whether it would be able to distinguish passwords anymore. “Can we go up?” he asked the gargoyle. “Feel free,” groaned the statue.

They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved slowly upward like an escalator. Harry pushed open the door at the top. He had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where he had left it, and then an earsplitting noise made him cry out, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort — But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving him a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other’s hands; they danced up and down on the chairs in which they had been painted; Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice, “And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!”

But Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster’s chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as phoenix song. At last, Harry held up his hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for him to speak. He directed his words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though he was, he must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice. “The thing that was hidden in the Snitch,” he began, “I dropped it in the forest. I don’t know exactly where, but I’m not going to go looking for it again. “ Do you agree?” “My dear boy, I do,” said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. “A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?” “No one,” said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction. “I’m going to keep Ignotus’s present, though,” said Harry, and Dumbledore beamed. “But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!” “And then there’s this.” Harry held up the Elder Wand, and Ron and Hermione looked at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, Harry did not like to see. “I don’t want it,” said Harry. “What?” said Ron loudly. “Are you mental?” “I know it’s powerful,” said Harry wearily. “But I was happier with mine. So …” He rummaged in the pouch hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Hermione had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All he knew was that if this did not work, nothing would. He laid the broken wand upon the headmaster’s desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said, “Reparo.”

As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion. “I’m putting the Elder Wand,” he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, “back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won’t it? The previous master will never have never been defeated. That’ll be the end of it.” Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other. “Are you sure?” said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand. “I think Harry’s right,” said Hermione quietly. “That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly,” he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”

Ron and Hermione smiled at Harry tiredly. Harry looked at his best friends- scars and dirt covered them. “You two have as well I reckon,” added Harry. He noticed that they were holding hands, he smiled.

“I-I couldn’t have done it without you two you know,” said Harry, and Ron and Hermione smiled at him shyly. “I’m happy about it you know,” Harry added, gesturing to the two of them holding hands. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves each-other more” he admitted.

Hermione smiled tiredly, “you should get rest Harry-” Hermione said, “Merlin knows you’ve earned it.” Harry nodded, “I reckon we all do,” and with that they all tiredly walked to the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry closed his eyes the moment he felt a soft surface below him. He saw faces in his dreams, jets of light, dead bodies, laughing bodies, his parents, Dumbledore. He awoke after what seemed like ages- feeling the affect of rest on his body and how very much needed that sleep was. He opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep with his glasses on, thankfully he had managed not to crush them. He looked around to see two familiar bodies also asleep. A long lanky one and a shorter one with bushy hair. Ron and Hermione were embracing each-other- their eyes closed. Ron had his arms wrapped around Hermione, her head was buried into his chest. Their embrace was one of desperation, as if they were scared they would lose each-other. Harry saw tear stains down both of their faces, his heart sank as he thought of Fred. Ron, who had been there for him since the day one, had lost his brother, the way Harry’s heart sank for Fred pained him in such a way that he couldn’t begin to imagine what Ron was thinking in this moment. He looked at Hermione, she would be there for him, Ron had Hermione, and Hermione had Ron. He meant every word he said, they deserved each-other. They had been there through thick and thin- had supported Harry in the darkest hour, and now, now they could finally rest. Finally rest with each-other.

Love.

It had always been the most powerful magic. And that very magic was what Harry was seeing exhibited before his very eyes. There might have been a time where Harry was uncertain between them - in the fear of getting shot out, or the fear that they wouldn't last, but this was different now.

They had gone through so much, had seen so much, and had aged years the last couple of months. They wouldn’t shoot him out, Harry saw, just how much he had meant to them. Their screams rung through his ears as he remembered how they had reacted when they had thought how he, Harry, had died. He was not uncertain about them, he knew they were made to last. He remembered Ron’s screams as Hermione had been tortured, and Hermione’s cries when Ron was not there with her. They were made for eachother, and they would help each-other deal with the tragedies they had faced. Harry smiled at his two best friends and got up slowly, he figured that for once he would let them finally be alone, just the two of them.

#romione

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moth-and-raven · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER TWELVE

I can’t sleep. And from my window, I see that Julian and Portia can’t either; the lights in the little cottage stay on long into the night. I hope they’re catching up, after a decade apart.

A piece of me wants to rejoin them. I felt so safe cocooned in the smells of Portia’s cooking and the laughter we shared. It drained away step by step as I returned to the palace. I trust both of them, but I miss them, too, even though they’re so close. It’s weird to be able to put faces to the holes in my heart.

I must’ve fallen asleep eventually, though, because I startle at the sound of a songbird greeting the dawn. We didn’t agree on an exact time to meet up again, but the earlier the better. With any luck, no one will be wasting the few days left before the Masquerade hanging around Lucio’s old rooms.

At least, no one but us.

The summer morning is cool and clear, buoying me down the garden path to the cottage. Julian emerges as soon as he sees me; Portia has to physically hold him back from running out to meet me. I laugh, seeing her strong, freckled arms wrapped around him from behind. She grimaces and releases him as I shut the door.

“Finally,” she grunts, though it can’t be later than six-thirty. “Nothing personal, but I’m already tired of hearing your name today.”

Julian pulls me into an embrace and spins around the small room, kissing my cheeks and forehead. “Good morning, my darling,” he murmurs. “What a sight you are.”

“Will you calm down, lover boy?” Portia rolls her eyes and swats at him, but I hear the smile in her voice.

He stops, raking his gaze over my face. “No,” he says softly. “I can't.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to.” She shakes her head and pulls a bundle of clothing from behind a chair. “‘Ian’ isn’t very excitable.”

“Ian?”

“Would you rather be Jules again?”

Julian looks closely at the clothes in Portia’s arms: a palace servant’s uniform, similar to her own, all cream and gold. “I need a different name?”

“Look, would you just let me have my fun?” she pouts, quickly turning it into a grin. “You’re Ian, my humble assistant for the day. That means you have to listen to me or I’ll fire you.”

“You wouldn’t fire me, would you?”

Portia eyes him up and down, as if thinking hard. “Yes I would,” she says. “You’re very fire-able.”

All three of us laugh. I can’t help but snuggle into Julian’s chest to feel the rumble of it. He nuzzles my hair, sighing contentedly as the moment passes. “I suppose I can let ‘Ian’ have the spotlight,” he tells Portia, taking the clothes from her. "At least for today."

“Good. I want to get up there soon. Did you have breakfast, Reyja?”

I don’t want to take her food, but I shake my head as she glances out the window at the sun.

“There’re some eggs on the counter, and an orange too, I think. I have some chores to do before we go, but they shouldn’t take long,” she says, moving to the door. “Ten minutes tops. Be ready by then?”

Julian nods.

Portia narrows her eyes at him, then at me. “Wait for me if you guys get done first, okay? You’ll be the least conspicuous if I’m around.”

Silence settles in the room after she leaves. I sit down on Portia’s perfumed couch; Julian starts to join me, then thinks better of it and ducks into the bathroom to change instead.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks. I can still hear him clearly.

“Not really. Too excited.”

“Nor did I."

I frown. "That's two nights in a row, isn't it? That you haven't slept?"

"Ahm… yes."

"Will you be alright?"

"This is nothing, truly. And I did sleep a bit. It'll tide me over, I promise."

I'm surprised by how fiercely I want to take care of him. I've never felt like that before. "If we get a minute, we should take a nap."

"Oh, darling, that sounds absolutely divine."

I lean on the back of the couch, resting my chin on my crossed wrists, watching the shadows he casts on the wall as he changes into his new outfit. Portia did the best she could finding clothes that would fit, but it looks like both shirt and trousers will hang loosely on him.

When he’s dressed, he reappears at the open door, doing up the last of his gilded buttons. “I was thinking about us.” He pauses, looking at me tenderly. “And I’m curious: would you have accepted my, erm, advances, from the beginning?”

“Like breaking-into-the-shop beginning?”

“Ha, had I not been so focused on tracking Asra down, I might’ve asked to stay.”

“Really?”

“I considered it.” He laughs. “You were in your element, my dear, with your spells and your blade. And in that robe too… I kept trying to think of reasons to come back, all the next day. If you hadn’t shown up at the Raven, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Is that why you were so eager to talk that night?”

“What, when I asked you to dinner?”

That is what he did, isn’t it? A date I didn’t even realize we were on. “Yeah.”

“Circumstances being as they were, I did find myself wondering about that pendant. That you were carrying it only made me more interested.”

I touch the smooth silver moon hanging around my neck. “You still can't remember what it means?”

“No. I don’t mind, though. If all it did was bring us together, it means the world to me.”

My heart surges, swelling with affection. He grins and crosses the room, cupping my cheek as he kneels to press his lips to mine.

“I never did get to say what I pictured doing with you, did I?” he asks, more breath than sound.

He didn’t, though I can hardly regret what happened instead. I don’t have to encourage him to go on.

“Hm.” He sits down beside me. “Aside from the obvious, as I so vividly demonstrated, they're the most mundane things. Like— like taking you shopping, or doing laundry together. Is that… do you find that odd?”

I shake my head and nestle against him. It isn’t odd; it’s one of the most soothing scenes I’ve ever imagined.

“And, and settling down with you at the end of a long day,” he murmurs. “Just like this, or maybe in front of a fireplace. Anywhere, really, so long as you’re in my arms.”

I let my eyes flutter shut as I inhale the scent of his skin, his hair. “We could read together,” I suggest. “Or play cards.”

“We could, we could. Would you let me take you out to dinner again, too? Show you off?”

“If you wanted.”

“Oh, I want the whole city, the whole world, to see us and know we’re together. And we could even take Nurlan up on her offer of seeing a show, couldn’t we? I’m no stranger to the stage, you know. I used to be quite the actor. That’s where I met her, in fact.”

A slightly less peaceful thought burrows between his words, grinning slyly at me. “That could be fun,” I say. “Did you have your own dressing room and everything?”

His heavy-lidded gaze turns sultry as he follows where I lead. “All to myself.”

“Do they let audience members backstage if they really, really want to visit?”

“My darling, I wouldn’t let them keep you from me for all the gold in the Palace’s coffers.”

I hum contentedly, admiring the image in my head: I’m already in his dressing room when he comes through the door, flushed and exhilarated from a successful opening night. I stand up to greet him and draw him in for a kiss that turns rapidly from celebratory to sensual. I’m sure he can taste my intentions.

His chest moves with the sigh he heaves. “So much I want to experience with you,” he says wistfully.

“We can.”

“Do you think so?”

I peer up at him, throwing one leg over his thighs as I tuck myself into his side. “Yes.”

“Well, who am I to nay-say such confidence, hm?”

I don’t think anyone has ever described me as confident, but he’s right. I feel it. I’m tired, but excited, and hopeful, and determined to see what happens next. Maybe this will be beyond my capabilities, but I won’t face it alone.

“Oh, I could spend a lifetime kissing you,” Julian murmurs. “I want to spend a lifetime kissing you.”

“It takes two, doesn’t it? We’d be kissing each other.”

“So we would.” He grins. “Shall we start right away?”

He’s dressed and ready to go. Portia will still be a few minutes. We have time, but I won’t waste any of it by saying so.

We’re in a somewhat compromising position when she returns: sprawled along the couch, Julian laying against me with my legs wrapped around his hips, so involved in each other that I don’t even hear the door. I should’ve known better — it’s already apparent that his touch, his very presence, blurs my caution into action every time. Even the looming threats of the Plague and the Masquerade pale in the warmth he spreads.

Both of us scramble to sit up in response to Portia’s beleaguered sigh, but she just shakes her head. “Come on,” she says. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner the two of you can have some privacy. Wait, where’s your wig?”

“Oh, erm.” Julian gestures towards the bathroom.

Portia rolls her eyes. “Put it on. Everyone knows to look out for a redhead. They won’t be expecting dark hair instead.”

Julian offers his hand to help me up, dropping a final kiss to my knuckles before breaking away to collect the wig Portia found. It washes him out a little, but he doesn’t look half-bad with straight black hair falling to his chin, covering his right eye. He smiles bashfully and does his best to tuck his new bangs behind his ear, but they won’t stay. It’s for the best: he’d be even more conspicuous wearing his patch, and this way no one can see, and be tipped off by, his plagued eye.

We follow Portia through the sunlit gardens to the palace, swinging our linked arms. “We’re probably gonna have to go the back way,” she explains, tossing the words over her shoulder as she fishes for her ring of keys to unlock the same greenhouse we left through last night. “Carmeline was telling me that they’re blocking off the whole suite for the party, so no one wanders up there accidentally.”

“What’s the back way?” I ask.

“This, the servants’ passages. They run all over the building. Sorry about your neck, Ian,” she says to Julian, smiling cheekily. “You’ll have to crouch down.”

He sighs, resigned to his fate.

“Reyja can give you a massage later, right?”

I certainly could, and squeeze his hand to tell him so.

“What a reward,” he says dreamily. He’s about to lean in to kiss me again when Portia smacks his arm.

“No more of that. Not while we’re here.”

“Ah, of course.”

“And stay close. It’s easy to get lost, the way we’re going.”

I lose my bearings after the first three turns. How anyone can navigate these twisting halls with no indication of where they are in the broader scheme of the palace is beyond me, but every servant we pass seems to know exactly where they’re going. It’s for the best that they’re so focused, and so busy: no one gives Julian a second glance. Maybe his disguise was unnecessary, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

We follow Portia single-file, past living quarters and storage rooms and kitchens and closets. At one point we pass an armory, full to the brim with weapons long neglected to rust. A tiny staircase gives us pause; it’s barely wide enough for my hips, and poor Julian is nearly doubled over to avoid the low ceiling. But we manage to squeeze up the tight spiral and crowd together on the landing crowning it while Portia feels for the door handle in the dark. I call a small light to my palm to help her, but our bodies cast shadows too dark to see through.

She finds it eventually, and we stagger out of the wall into ash piled high like snowdrifts. We’re on the other side of the suite now, opposite where Portia and I explored before. My heart catches in my throat when I realize that we’ve emerged in Lucio’s bedroom itself, untouched for the last three years, stirring cinders into the air with our breath and footsteps.

It’s so quiet. Eerily quiet, like sound is being eaten before it can escape. I close my eyes against the force of the silence.

And Lucio’s spark flares into view, white-silver and red, the vaguest shape of a man, blurred at the edges. His form disappears when I open my eyes again, but his presence remains, angrier than he was a few days ago. I wonder if he knows what time of year it is. The Masquerade was held in celebration of his birthday, after all, and from what I know of him, he’s probably pretty upset that people are ignoring its origins and partying without him.

At least that gives me an emotion to latch onto.

I rest one hand on Portia’s soft shoulder, holding her back before she can venture further in.

“What?” she asks. I can hear the excitement and concern mingled in her voice.

“He’s here,” I say simply.

Julian’s pressed so close to me I feel him tremble when I close my eyes again. I do my best to ignore him, weaving Asra’s old spells into careful nets to keep Lucio from vanishing when we call to him properly. He knows we’re here too, I think, but he can’t see us. I enclose the space around us, sealing up the room. Win or lose, here we go.

“Ready?” I ask quietly.

“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Julian whispers back, barely keeping his nerves at bay. Despite his eagerness last night, I can tell that this isn’t his favorite thing.

“Nope,” Portia says. “So let’s do it.”

“Okay.”

I call magical bindings to my fingertips, to hold him here when he manifests. I’d rather not use them if I can help it, because I know how much it will drain me, but needs must. Air mixed with fine particles of soot fills my lungs and I hold back a cough to call out to him: “Count Lucio?”

His aura flares red, searching through his former suite for the intrusion. But when he finds us, he recoils. Waves of fear and confusion replace his hostility even as he tries to stand his ground.

“Who’s there?” he hisses, but only I can hear him. His voice is reedy, a faint echo of what a living throat can make.

I ignore the question. He’ll find out soon enough. “We’ve come to visit you.”

“Uh-huh, sure. A palace full of toadies and not a single person comes up here until now.”

Not a single—? He’s been alone all this time? Three years, a floating consciousness with nothing else to do? How desperately lonely he must be.

“What do you want?” he adds peevishly. “I’m not really entertaining right now, y’get me?”

His presence is getting stronger, the more he funnels into communicating with us. He’s still unfocused, but I can almost see him when he moves. Behind me, Julian and Portia are frozen, holding each other’s hands, letting me work.

“That’s okay,” I tell him. “We won’t take long.”

“Hmph. Where else am I gonna go?” he pouts. “They’re shutting me up in here, away from the party.”

I wonder if he’ll manifest more quickly with flattery… “Locking you out of your own party?”

“Thank you! Finally, someone who recognizes how fucking stupid that is!” His shape roils like a thundercloud, smoke filling a glass vase until he almost looks solid. “The Masquerade is my baby! I may be dead, but I’m not gone!”

“That’s right,” I say, taking a hesitant step closer. “Um, speaking of… we had some questions for you.”

“Why d’you keep saying ‘we?’ There’s only one of you.”

Oh. “I… brought some friends. One of them might look familiar. He’s the one who wants to ask you about, uh…”

Lucio cuts me off. “Lemme see! Anyone who remembers me has shit to answer for, like—”

He stops dead the moment I take Julian’s hand. Both of them gasp, seeing each other for the first time. Julian’s skin is ice-cold, colder than usual, and his palm is damp with sweat, but he swallows bravely and raises his voice.

“Hello, Lucio.”

“Jules? ” Lucio says, the word dripping with incredulity.

“Now, you know I never liked that nickname—”

“Fuck my ass, it is you!”

“Erm.”

Lucio flows like quicksilver over the ash-stained carpet to shove his ghostly face into Julian’s. His eyes are the same piercing, plagued red, but his pupils are so pale as to be invisible.

“How fucking dare you?” Lucio shrieks. He tries to push Julian’s shoulder, but passes right through him. It only makes him angrier. “You fucking hack! I dug you outta the fucking trash to bring you here and wha’d’it get me, huh?! I trusted you, I gave you everything you fucking asked for! Why couldn’t you do what you said you would, asshole? This is all your fault! ”

I pull Julian back; he stumbles against me, flinching away from Lucio’s wrath. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“No! You fucking didn’t! You didn’t do shit and now fucking look at me!”

“Lucio, I—”

“Never should've trusted you. I thought we had somethin’, y’know? Since you were there for the arm thing and all. I should've called Naz-whatever instead.”

Julian swallows hard. “Nazali — erm, Doctor Satrinava — couldn’t have risked—”

“Don’t you dare fucking lecture me, Jules!”

Julian winces as Lucio launches into another tirade. I squeeze his hand; I could let go of him and he wouldn’t have to hear any of it, since it’s only through me they can communicate. But he squeezes back and draws a steadying breath.

“Look, Lucio, as nice as it is to hear your voice again—”

“And now you’re fucking mocking me? How dare—”

“— I really only have the one question. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Lucio crosses his arms, looking for all the world a petulant child just told he had five minutes until bedtime. “I’m gonna make the same promise you made me,” he says. “I’ll do ‘whatever I can.’ And apparently, that means I don’t have to do jack shit.”

Julian sighs. “Did I kill you?”

“You sure as fuck didn’t fucking cure me, did’ya?”

“No, I mean… at the end?”

“Pfft. You might as well have.”

The crunch of ash fills the silence.

“... But I didn't?”

Lucio shrugs.

“I didn’t kill you?!”

“I don’t know, okay?” Lucio turns his back on us and floats across the room to the soot-stained curtains, pawing uselessly at them as he tries to open the window. He grunts in annoyance and stares at the wall instead.

Julian presses his point. “You don’t know who killed you?”

“Look, I was kinda busy at the time. Dying and shit.”

“Do you remember anything?”

He scowls. “I remember someone coming in… someone tall, and thin. And pale. But… but I don’t think it was you. They weren’t… they weren’t human …”

I could shout for joy. I won’t, but I could. Julian is innocent! I knew he had to be! If there was someone else in the room before him, Lucio might have been dead before he even got there. That’s a mystery of its own, but I can’t help the relief flooding through my veins. Whoever it was, it wasn’t him. And right now, that’s as much of a victory as I need.

But Julian’s still worried, and still deadly focused on Lucio’s nebulous form.

“Hey, uh. I got a question for you, too,” Lucio says, shaking himself out of his patchy memories. “You owe me one, anyway.”

Julian nods for him to continue.

“You still in contact with that Skylar guy?”

Julian startles. “Skylar? I haven’t seen him in years. How do you know him?”

“Duh, he was here. Cared about me more than you ever did, too.”

“I… don’t remember that.”

Lucio smirks. “I sure as fuck do. Damn, if I hadn’t been, like, dying… he could rearrange my guts any day.”

I hadn’t realized Portia could hear him too, but she stifles a snicker behind her hand. The other, I see, is still holding Julian’s. Julian himself blushes, and clears his throat.

“Erm, I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“ASAP. He’s here, y’know.”

“What? How do you know that, if you can’t—?”

Lucio preens. “My good doggies were playing with Salsa a few days ago. I heard them.”

“You heard…” Julian trails off, then turns to Portia. I can almost hear his mind racing. “Pasha, is a tall man with dark skin and green eyes staying in the palace?”

Lucio interrupts before she can answer. “Do you think I’d be asking if he was actually here here? I just know he’s somewhere in the city.”

And Julian laughs, his shoulders loosening. Whoever this Skylar is, his presence must mean a lot to him. “I bet I know exactly where.”

—————

Skylar belongs to @ollifree.

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#the arcana #the arcana fanfic #reyja north #julian devorak #moth & raven

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

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Wolf, Witch, Human

Natasha x reader x Wanda

Masterlist Sleep Series Masterlist Halloween/Supernatural Masterlist

Natasha had been a werewolf since birth. No-one was 100% sure as to how or why she was able to turn into what was supposed to be fiction, but Natasha never questioned it. It was just who she was. Being a werewolf means she is different to the rest of her teammates. Her steaks were rawer than others, the full moon meant she changed into a large wolf and her anger was more substantial than the others.

Natasha wasn’t sure why she was easier to anger than the others, she put it down to her other side most of the time, but she was. The smallest things could make her rage build and when she got angry, the wolf took control. She would turn no matter the phase of the moon and attack whatever triggered her anger.

Wanda helped. When Wanda came along and learned of Natasha’s issues with anger, she did the best to help her. She made charm bags, potions and other things with calming herbs, sigils and enchantments. Because of Wanda, Natasha had lavender and chamomile tea every morning, had charm bags under her pillows and in her bag and was constantly carrying a crystal, or sigil, or herb with her to control her inner beast.

All these worked really well, until Y/N. She was like every potion; charm bag and spell Wanda had created in human form. Wanda felt it too, the girl was enthralling with her sweet smile, soft voice and calming demeanour. And they wanted her.

Reader POV

You’d been with the team for nearly a year since your brother had introduced you to them. You had been born with the ability to teleport yourself and anything you were contact with to anywhere you wished. For most of your life you’d kept it a secret, with only your late parents, uncle, your aunt and younger brother knowing, and trying to learn the lengths you could go.

You didn’t do much with the ability, traveled the world for a bit, until your brother joined The Avengers initiative. He was close with Tony and he’d mentioned you and your ability. At Tony’s insistence Peter brought you to meet the billionaire and after several more meetings you were asked to join the team.

You’d quickly become close with the Stark along with Wanda, Natasha and Steve. With Tony, Peter was what connected you and Steve the two of you shared a drive to keep the little guy safe, along with your insistent need to rush headfirst into a fight, but with the women there was something else.

They were gorgeous and you were immediately attracted to them both but there was something else you couldn’t put your finger on. Whatever the reason you felt so drawn to them you didn’t mind. They were good friends, great friends and you really enjoyed spending time with them.

Even though you’d been with the team and friends with the two women for a year, you’d never been around Natasha when it came time for her to shift. Either you were busy, or she was, but you’d never seen it, until now.

The three of you had been sent out of the country for some undercover work since a week ago. The three of you had been so busy, that none of you noticed the change in the moon’s phases.

You were all together in some ritzy hotel, the three of you attempting to blend in and trail the targets.

“I haven’t seen my guy yet.” Natasha commented, concealing her murmuring as she drank a cocktail. Because she was the most noticeable of you all, she had been forced to wear a piece of tech that altered her face and a blonde wig.

“Neither have I.” Wanda confirmed, discreetly scanning the room.

“I have my eyes on the prize.” You said from your seat at the bar. “I’m going to engage.” You told the two, standing from your seat and grabbing your clutch.

“Be careful.” Natasha begged, making you smile fondly.

“Always am.” You said before moving over to the man. With your drink in one hand you began walking in the opposite direction of the man, the two of you bumped shoulders, causing your drink to spill.

“Oh goodness, I am so sorry about that.” You said innocently, grabbing a handkerchief out of your clutch to dab at the mess on his jacket.

“No, I’m sorry. Completely my fault.” The man laughed, taking the handkerchief out of your hands. “How about I get you a new drink, you know, to say I’m sorry?”

“Only if you join me.” You said flirtatiously.

“Of course, I’m Damien.” He told you, leaving a hand for you to shake.

Bingo, you thought taking his hand in yours. “Eve.” You replied. The two of you moved over to the bar but before you could get any information out of the man, you noticed Wanda move over to Natasha who appeared to be very distressed.

“Oh, my is that the time?” You asked, hastily standing up ready to follow the two. “I’m so sorry, but I forgot I have somewhere to be now, we’ll have to do this another time.” You quickly said, moving away from him attempting to follow Natasha and Wanda out.

You caught up to them as they were leaving the hotel entrance. “What’s happening?” You asked Wanda as Natasha was bent over growling.

“She’s shifting, we need to get her out of here.” Wanda told you, a slightly distressed look in her eyes. Making sure there was no-one around you moved to Natasha’s other side and helped pull around the corner.

“This way.” You said, moving them both behind the corner. “Wanda, take my hand.” You added, one hand still clutching onto the slightly calmer red-head, or blonde now.

Wanda took your outstretched hand with no hesitation and you quickly transported them both into a lush forest.

“Is there a chance anyone else will be here?” Wanda asked, shedding Natasha of her wig and mask.

“No, this place is completely private.” You said, blushing when Wanda began stripping Natasha’s dress. “She’ll be fine here.”

“Great.” Natasha growled as her bones began cracking. “Y/N come here for a second.” She said, beckoning you over. Hesitantly you moved over to her, she grabbed your hand and pulled you in closer. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply for a few seconds before she fully transformed.

“Do you want me to go?” You asked Wanda, who was watching Natasha check out her new surroundings. Wanda turned to with a smile and shook her head.

“No. Come, sit with me.” She said, reaching a hand out to you. You took it, returning her smile, and the two of you sat on a fallen log.

“Wanda? Can I ask you something?” You asked after several minutes of comfortable silence. She hummed in response and turned her head toward you. “Why did Natasha smell me before?”

“It’s normal.” Wanda quickly assured. “It’s so the wolf knows your scent is that of a friend.” She added quickly, smiling at you and giving your hand a quick squeeze. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, nodding your head. Her answer seemed logical, so you saw no point to question it any further. “Her wolf is beautiful.” You commented as said wolf began to come closer to the two of you.

“She is.” Wanda agreed, running her fingers through Natasha’s slightly red fur. “And she’s usually quite gentle, and much more affectionate, in this form.” She added as Natasha sat in front of you.

“Hi, Nat.” You cooed, and slowly reached a hand out to her. She rubbed her nose against the palm of your hand before laying down in front of the two of you.

“I almost forgot,” Wanda started, turning to you. “Where are we exactly?”

“A forest in Sweden.” You replied with a smile. “I found it while I was traveling a few years ago. I loved the cities here, but I wanted to find my own little place. And I found this mountain and this forest, and they were untouched by anyone.”

“It’s beautiful.” Wanda complimented. “It’s so peaceful.”

“And Natasha will be safe here until she turns back.” You added, smiling at the witch. “And so will we. There’s a little place we can go to for the night, Nat will even be able to access it.” You added, jumping to your feet. Wanda grabbed your outstretched hand and started to follow you.

Leading the two women, well woman and wolf, you walked for a few minutes before stopping at the base of a tree which had a set of stairs carved into it.

“I take it these stairs weren’t always here.” Wanda commented as you led the two up the stairs.

“You would be assuming correctly.” You told her, leading her up to a platform. Standing on the platform you smiled as Wanda’s jaw dropped. “And before you ask, this wasn’t here before either.”

“How did you do this? How long did this take you?” Wanda asked, staring around her in amazement. “This must have taken you so long.”

“What can I say? I like to keep busy” You shrugged, leading her and Natasha into the main part of the house. “It’s been home for years, it didn’t matter where I was in the world I always came back here, so I thought I might as well truly make it home.”

“This is fantastic Y/N. Thank you, for sharing this with us.” Wanda said, pulling you close to kiss your cheek. You blushed a bright red at the affection before maintaining yourself.

“Of course, what are friends for?” You said, clearing your throat. “Come on I’ll show you to the bedroom.” You added, pulling her towards the next room. “There should be clothes in the chest there, make yourself at home.”

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as Natasha circled the room.

“I’m not going far.” You promised, smiling gently at the witch. “There’s a hammock in the living room, I’ll stay there tonight.”

“No, no this is your place, you get the bed.” Wanda said.

“Wanda, you and Nat can’t fit into that hammock. The bed has plenty of room for the two of you.” You said, shaking your head slightly.

“There’s more than enough room with the two of us. We’ll share it. It’s your bed and we all need some sleep.” Wanda compromised, staring intently at you. Knowing you weren’t going to win and how tired you were you gave in and raised your hands in surrender.

“Okay, I can live sharing with the two of you.” You smiled. The two of you stripped out of your fancy dresses and into the spare clothing you stored here. You both laid together on the bed with Natasha in between the two of you.

“Night Y/N.” Wanda smiled, curling closer to Natasha’s warmth.

“Good night Wanda.” You replied, already falling asleep.

Non-reader POV

When Natasha woke up the next morning, she was still in between Y/N and Wanda, who was already awake.

“Morning.” Natasha murmured to Wanda.

“Hey.” Wanda said, leaning in to kiss the red head. When the two pulled away they both turned to look at their still sleeping bed mate.

“She’s so gorgeous.” Natasha whispered, smiling at the H/C woman.

“We should ask her soon.” Wanda suggested, wrapping her arm around Natasha’s waist. “I think she would say yes.”

“Soon.” Natasha agreed, leaning back in Wanda’s hold. “We’ll ask her soon.”

Reader POV

“Here’s to the hundred year old virgin!” Tony cheered as you all clinked glasses. Steve’s cheeks turned bright red as the rest of you laughed in amusement.

It was Steve’s birthday and in true Stark fashion, Tony had organized a large party complete with fireworks for the 4th of July and plenty of alcohol for the guests consumption.

“You mean Bucky hasn’t tapped that?” Clint asked, the team laughing as both men turned red.

As the team joked about Steve and Bucky’s sex life, you moved over to the bar to get another drink.

“That dress looks fantastic.” Diana said, coming to stand behind you with a flirtatious smirk plastered on her face. Diana was a former member of S.H.I.E.L.D and was one of the best agents they’d had, so you and the team had gotten to know her before S.H.I.E.L.D fell.

“Oh thanks, Diana.” You said, smiling as you turned to face her. “Your dress is really nice too.”

“You need to wear things like this more often. Other than your suit or what you wear undercover, we barely get to see these legs.” She commented, gazing down at your legs. She wasn’t wrong. You did prefer comfortable clothing, jeans and t-shirts compared to short, tight, uncomfortable clothing.

“That’s because I prefer my jeans.” You told the blonde, leaning against the bar. “Can’t do much in one of these dresses.”

“I’m not saying I don’t like your jeans.” Diana smirked, raising her hands in innocence. “Your jeans still show those legs, but I guess I like seeing them up close.”

“Diana, my eyes are up here.” You said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the woman.

“I’m sorry.” Diana apologised, raising her eyes to meet yours. “Tony made the drinks a bit stronger than I thought they would be.”

“I think that’s what everyone thinks. Once Clint tried to jump from the roof into the pool after a bit too much.” You commented, smiling at the memory.

You and Diana stood by the bar, continuing to talk casually for a few more minutes when she started to move closer.

“You know, I found this adorable little café a few streets away from the Tower. Maybe you would want to join me one day?” She suggested, shifting her body closer to yours.

Understanding, finally, why Diana had initially followed you over to the bar you began to feel awkward with the situation.

“I’m sorry Diana, but I’m not interested in having that kind of relationship with you.” You admitted, rubbing your neck. You attempted to move away from her only for her to come stand in front of you.

“Y/N you don’t have to decide that now.” Diana said, grabbing your hand in hers. “Just go on one date with me and you’d see we’d be good together.”

“I said no, Diana.” You said firmly and pushed past her. She grabbed your arm and turned you towards her. Before she could say anything a loud growl startled the two of you, and probably the rest of the party as well.

Turning your head, you could see Natasha storm over to the two of you, with an angry Wanda following her. Natasha grabbed you by the arm, less aggressively than Diana had, and pulled you into her chest. She slammed her lips to yours and her anger seemed to dissipate from her system.

You were in shock from the red head smashing her lips against yours, you almost didn’t kiss back. After a few minutes Natasha pulled away and Wanda pulled you into her arms and repeated her girlfriend’s actions.

“She’s ours.” Natasha said, glaring at the stunned blonde. “Don’t touch her again.”

As Wanda pulled away, Natasha grabbed both your hands and dragged you both out of the room. You were still in shock at the actions of the two and didn't say anything until you reached the elevator.

“What was that?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“That was us staking a claim.” Natasha said, shrugging casually as she wrapped her arm around your waist.

“Jesus Nat.” Wanda sighed, nervously playing with her hands. “We should’ve asked before we did that and we shouldn’t have just stormed over like that but Nat said-”

“Wanda breathe.” You said, grabbing her hand in yours. “I’m not mad you both kissed me, little shocked yeah, but I’m not mad.”

“We should explain a bit.” Wanda told you as you arrived on their floor. She and Natasha led you into their bedroom. They sat you down on their bed and stood before you, Natasha looking calm and Wanda still looking nervous.

“We’ve like you for a really long time.” Wanda admitted, giving you a nervous smile.

“Since you first joined.” Natasha added, sitting next to you. “There’s something about your scent. It intrigued us.”

“Are you saying I smell?” You asked, feeling self conscious.

“Yes. I mean no.” Wanda rushed. “Oh God, Nat you take over, I’m failing at this.”

"What she means is your scent is intoxicating. It makes the wolf calm and it draws me and Wanda in. You said you were human and it just made us all the more curious.

We all started to get closer and it wasn’t just your scent that we were drawn into. It was you. Your personality, your laugh, your love of your family and your love of travel. Your scent was still intoxicating but we both fell in love with you, for you.” Natasha said, her hands holding yours and staring intently at you.

“We love you, Y/N. We’ve loved you for a long time.” Wanda said, finally gaining her confidence back.

Your mouth felt dry. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for his.” You admitted, smiling giddily. Standing from the bed, you pulled Wanda into you and kissed her deeply. The woman gladly responded and wrapped her arms around your neck.

Natasha pulled you away from Wanda and kissed you as passionately as she had before. Natasha let out a growl as you pulled her red locks.

“Two can play this game, malen’kiy chelovek.” She smirked, throwing you onto their bed. Wanda stood next to Natasha and smiled as her fingertips glowed red and Natasha’s eyes flashed yellow.

This was the start of a long, happy, relationship. A relationship between a werewolf, a witch and a calming human.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @skeletoresinthebasement @hopingforbarnes

Show your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/Message me comments, ideas, pairings or if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Coming soon;

Natasha x reader x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Clint x Bucky

Steve x reader x Bucky

Bucky x reader x Sam

Steve x reader x Natasha

Natasha x reader x Sam

Steve x reader x Sam x Bucky

Steve x reader x Sam

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skelebonecentral · 3 years

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Hothouse Rose chapter 4

your first day at your new home comes to a close and your new life begins!

(words under cut)

Charm just nodded as his brother explained what had happened when he’d visited with the human, and what he’d heard Spice do. “Well, I did tell you that humans are much more reserved than we’d assumed, brother.”

“but that much? I mean, I knew they wouldn’t be thrilled with my work but that kind of shock and disgust? I know you like them but they seem way too judgmental to me,” Sugar was worried. It was one thing for his cousins who lived here to be confused by his work, they’d still let him stay and they liked him already. But this human was an unknown factor and even if Papyrus loved them, they were still possibly bad for the rest of them…well, except Sans. Sans was clearly mooning after them already.

“Sugar, dear brother,” Charm smiled, “they already love Papyrus. And Papyrus has made it very clear that while we’re confusing to him, he cares for us. Sans cares for us. And the human, while very reserved, is reasonable and can be eased into acceptance of how we do things. We just need to take it slow, as hard as that can be for you.” He was almost laughing. His brother was just so impatient sometimes.

Huffing, Sugar sprawled out on Charm’s bed, “but it’s going to be so awkward. It was bad enough that first little while with our cousins and now we have to do it again? with a human with all kinds of hang ups? You know what they told boa?”

“I do. They’re entirely correct, too, but they also said they don’t understand the mindsets of those people who would hate us for what we are. Their whole energy is in flux right now, after all, because of that trauma of losing their home. Give them time, Sugar. They’ll learn to love us, I just know it.” Charm let himself lay over the bed, ending up with his head on his brother’s chest. “and remember, even if no one else loves you, I do.”

“I know, bro,” Sugar took a deep breath, then sighed, “yeah. okay. we’ll try to do this slow and steady, like you like it.”

“Right.”

Boa stood outside his brother’s door, “Please? The party isn’t until eight, so you have two whole hours where it’s just us and the human. You can even just meet them then take your dinner back, but they’re very fun.”

There’s silence behind the door, then it cracks open a bit, “and they’re my age?”

“Yes,” Boa smiles, “Almost exactly! They’re two years younger than Papyrus, he told me so. Also, they really like some of those 80’s movies you do. The one with the…the fellow in tights with the big blond wig? They bought a shirt of that!”

“Labyrinth?” the door opens more, a skull peering out with soft orange lights in the sockets, “That’s…promising. Um….and you’ll be there, right?”

That made Boa’s smile fall, “No, I have to work on a commission. But Whip and Papyrus will be there, and Sans. Maybe Spice, too, if he’s not too upset about botching his introduction.”

Analyzing movements of the eye lights, then he spoke, “okay. I’ll meet them as long as Papyrus is there.”

“Oh thank you, Sweet-pea!” Boa clapped happily, “They’re so nice, they yelled at someone who yelled at me! And he was a big scary man, too!”

A small laugh, “oh? well…that does boost them up in the list of people I’d be okay talking to.”

“Good.” Boa’s expression softens, “Because I really want you to find a friend. You deserve to have someone to count on besides me.”

“HELLO, DEAR DATEMATE!”

You look up and jump to your feet, flinging your arms open to hug Papyrus as he strides into your room. “Papyrus! Welcome back!”

Feet off the ground, you are swung lightly back and forth as he hugs back, then set right and beamed at, “AND I SEE YOU TOOK THE INITIATIVE TO FIND MY TEXTBOOKS TO STUDY! I’M VERY PROUD OF YOU FOR THAT! DID YOU MEET ALL THE OTHERS YET?”

“No,” you sigh, “and I don’t think my meeting with Sugar or Spice went well. I messed up with Sugar and I got too flustered and upset Spice so…”

“OH.” Papyrus frowns, but pats your head, “IT’S ALRIGHT. SPICE IS ALWAYS ON EGGSHELLS AROUND NEW PEOPLE, SO HE PROBABLY OVERREACTED. I KNOW IT IS A BIT WORRYSOME IF YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOUR CRYING WHEN FLUSTERED, SO IT MIGHT HAVE SPOOKED HIM!”

“Yeah…sorry.”

“DON’T BE! NOW WE MUST GO DOWNSTAIRS FOR DINNER AND YOU CAN MEET THE OTHER TWO. MAYBE. SWEET-PEA TENDS TO EAT IN HIS ROOM A LOT SO I DON’T KNOW.”

Taking his arm, you let him lead you down the stairs and smiled as you saw Sans waiting for you by a door to the right of the stairs. “oh, heya. we got the other two you haven’t met yet here. and spice. But uh…he’s in a mood so he probably won’t talk.”

“That’s my fault. I got flustered and…well…”

“oh. gotcha. He’s not used to humans leaking,” Sans grinned as Papyrus glared at him. He could feel that this would lead to many plumbing based puns later.

The door was opened, and you went in with Papyrus, being directed to the seat between him and Sans. It was a pretty long table, long enough for nine people easily, probably ten if you stretched it, and made of some dark stained wood with curling curved feet on the table itself and the chairs that matched it.

Although, the table was only so interesting when there was someone dressed like a dominatrix with a white scarf sitting at it.

He was tall, as tall as Papyrus if not taller, and sitting next to Spice near one end of the table. On seeing you, he stood up and stalked over. “I SEE. SO YOU ARE THE ONE PAPYRUS GUSHES OVER AND WHO’S GOT SANS ALL FLUTTERY.”

Sans chokes and coughs, turning blue as you give him a raised eyebrow. You’d talk about this later, but for now you just nod.

“WELL, I AM WHIP, THE INDOMINABLE AND TERRIFYING, AND I DO HOPE YOU LIVE UP TO THE HYPE. I TELL YOU,” he leaned over, the black leather of his outfit hugging his bright red ectobody closely and showing every taught movement of false muscle, “IF YOU TRY ANYTHING-“

“nope.” Sans got up and stood next to your seat, “whip, I did that already. threatening people isn’t allowed in this house. Nobody is doing anything wrong, and there’s no need for that. I get you’re used to being in charge, but this isn’t your house. It’s mine.”

His hand on your shoulder was warm and steady, and you were surprised when Whip backed off instantly. Wow, how many cut outs were in the side of that weird one-piece suit? It had no arms, and ended in shorts, but his boots and gloves matched.

“UGH. FINE. BESIDES, I DON’T NEED YOU AND ALL THE BLEEDING SOULS AROUND HERE ON MY CASE IF I UPSET THEM.” He sat back down, “BUT I STAND BY MY OBJECTION TO THEIR PRESENCE!”

Ah. So he was the one who didn’t want you here.

But that meant..

You look at Spice, and decide to do something, “I’m sorry if I worried you earlier, Spice. I just cry when I get really flustered; I wasn’t actually mad or anything.”

Spice sat up ramrod straight where he’d been leaned over the table grumbling to himself. “O-oh? so ya were just all flustered?”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile to make sure you reassure him, “so are we good now? I wanted to make sure you knew you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He seems very relieved, his grimace turning into a real smile, “oh yeah. yeah, baby doll, we’re good. thanks for clearin’ the air.”

Whip is glaring at you, but he elbows Spice, who winces and glares back at him.

The only other person at the table is across from you, and he’s been quiet. He’s wearing what looks like a hoodie with the hood up, but it’s cut off just before the end of his ribcage. Papyrus has started serving the dinner (it’s some kind of spicy chicken pasta, and you’re quite excited about it) and answers the question you weren’t prepared to ask yet, “SWEET-PEA, DO YOU WANT ME TO PUT A WRAP OVER YOUR PLATE SO YOU CAN GO UPSTAIRS?”

“n-nah, pap. Thanks,” his voice was soft, nervous, but had a small laugh in it. A tenor, this one, like Papyrus, Boa, Charm, and Whip. “I uh…kind of promised my bro I’d try to talk with the human, since we’re the same age.”

“Oh?” you perked up, and it also made Spice and Whip take notice. “It’s nice to meet you, Sweet-pea. Your brother really helped me out today.”

He looked up, and you saw a shy smile in the slight light of his blushing orange magic, “ehehe, the way he put it, it sounded like you helped him more. thank you, for keeping my big brother safe.”

Nodding, you set into your dinner. Papyrus and Sans were bantering as usual, and after a moment or two you got in on it as well. Spice and Whip would talk occasionally, but only amongst themselves, and Sweet-pea just observed.

After a while, you were done eating, but you didn’t want to just get up and leave. “Hey, Sweet-pea?”

He jumped, but looked your way, “yeah?”

“What do you like to do? Since we’re in the same house, I want to know how to have fun with all my housemates.”

Spice snickered, but got elbowed by his brother again, and Sweet-pea seemed relieved, “mostly I draw. I um…I design clothes, th-the ones my bro wears and me, too. uh…bro asked you for your measurements, right?”

“Oh, yeah he did. That was so you could work with them?”

He nodded, “never had to design for a human before. Neat challenge…nyehehe…”

Oh stars, he was so cute. That quiet laugh, the reluctance to talk, creative and shy, oh it was beyond endearing.

“Well, knowing that, I’ll be happy to let him or you measure me tomorrow. I’ll probably spend the majority of the day trying to just get used to the house but whenever you two are ready, I’ll cooperate.” Boa had already won your trust, and knowing this reclusive darling was his brother made you drop all your guards.

Papyrus seemed curious, and asked, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’LL MAKE FOR THEM, SWEET-PEA? THEY ARE A MORE CONSERVATIVE PERSON THAN YOUR USUAL DESIGNS GO FOR.”

He waved a hand, “o-oh I get that. uh….i kind of wanted to see if I could do that? make a more…more human friendly design. Maybe something dignified? Or a, um, a fancy gown? Suit? I’m not sure yet.”

He was done with his food, too, and as he got more nervous, he stood, “and that’s all the spoons I’ve got. See ya.” And he vanished like Sans did.

“Oh! He can shortcut, too!” You realize you sound stupid, but it just surprised you.

“so can me’n sugar,” Spice said, smirking a bit. “Can’t wait ta see what ya think when I just show up.”

“Probably that you’re showing off,” you answer honestly, “but that’s okay. I’m probably going to try and show off, too, since we’re just getting to know each other.”

He got thrown off, you could tell the way his smile faultered, but it came back softer, “fine by me, baby doll.”

“SPICE, I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOUR NICKNAME FOR THEM,” Papyrus was struggling, and you let him finish his question. “WHAT ABOUT THEM IS LIKE EITHER A BABY OR A DOLL? THEY ARE AN ADULT REAL HUMAN?”

“oh, easy. They’re cute, an’ young, an’ pretty. term of endearment, paps,” Spice handled it smoothly, giving a much nicer smile than he had all night, “sorry for confusin’ ya.”

“OH, NO, YOU ARE QUITE ACCURATE ON ALL THOSE COUNTS!” Papyrus beamed at you, and you shot a grateful look to Spice before squeezing Papy’s hand. “ALSO, FOR ME AND YOUR BROTHER, THEY ARE VERY SMALL AND THUS EVEN MORE ADORABLE!”

“not that small,” Sans says, playing at a pout before snickering. “but it’s true, compared to you, everybody is doll sized.”

Whip got up and walked to the doorway, “YOU’RE ALL INFURIATING! BROTHER, COME TALK TO ME WHEN YOU’VE WISED UP TO THIS INVADER!” He then stalked away, letting you see the spikes on the backs of his boots and gloves.

Spice groaned and got up, “sorry ‘bout him. he’s…well, gettin’ used ta other folks is gonna take him some time. barely got comfy with just us bone heads before you got here, baby doll. It’s okay.”

“Alright, if you say so,” you murmur, still worried. You hadn’t wanted to upset anybody.

Spice took a shortcut and left, and that meant it was just you and the two brothers you knew best.

“welp, I’m gonna- hck!”

Sans had tried to leave but gotten caught by his shirt collar by Papyrus. “OH NO, YOU’RE STAYING AND TALKING ABOUT THAT.”

“talking about what?” he asked meekly, and you leveled him with your stare.

“About Whip saying you were all fluttery about me.”

Sans’ skull turned blue as he was set back in his seat, “I’m working with Dr. Kevin about it, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to start crushing…” He was curled in on himself, blue magic beading on his skull.

“SANS, WHY ARE YOU SORRY?” Papyrus blinked at him, “Y/N IS AMAZING, IT’S NOT SURPRISING YOU’D FIND THEM AS WORTHY OF YOUR LOVE AND ADORATION. YOU COULD HAVE JUST TOLD US AND WE’D TALK ABOUT IT.”

You look at Papyrus, very surprised. Most men you’d known in the past would be outraged if their brother admitted to having a crush on their date. But Papyrus’ next words dig you in even deeper in confusion. “AFTER ALL, IT’S NOT LIKE WE CAN’T COME TO SOME SORT OF AGREEMENT ON SCHEDULING IF THEY LIKE YOU BACK.”

“uh…that might be how it would work underground, pap,” Sans is looking pretty dejected and lost, “but I did the research, polyamory isn’t exactly encouraged up here. humans like monogamy.”

Oh. OH. This was a culture thing and Sans was trying to push his own feelings away because of it. Hell no.

“Sans, I…well, I’ve never tried a polyamory situation before, but I’m not opposed to it? I’m not sure I can address this fully right now, with everything going on, but we can certainly talk about it more when…when I’m not freshly moved in?” You smile, even though you know you probably look kind of dazed. You are dazed, a bit, so that’s okay.

Both the boys look at you, surprised, then they both smile. Papyrus is all brightness as always, and Sans looks so relieved, “that’s fine. that’s more than fine, it’s better than I ever expected. Thank you.”

“SEE? I TOLD YOU, THEY’RE THE BEST!” Papyrus hugs you, but whispers in your ear, “thank you for being open to this. I know it’s not the human norm.”

You just nod and hug back, and Sans gets up. “okay. I used like….all my energy for the night. I’m going to bed.” He waves, then shortcuts away.

“Do you want me to stay and help you clean up?” you ask, and Papyrus lets you go and shakes his head.

“NOPE! GO TO YOUR ROOM AND I’LL COME BY AT EIGHT TO HAVE SOME FUN BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP.”

You nod and get up, kissing his head, “And you do know I love you and that won’t change? Ever?”

“YES! AND THE SAME GOES FOR ME, BUT ABOUT YOU!”

Reassured, you go upstairs and settle in your room. Good grief, what a night. What a day, in fact, but at least it can’t get any bigger.

You are entirely wrong about it not getting bigger.

Papyrus suggests you come with him to the living room at eight for movies, and you agree, but end up finding a lot of your family and several of your monster friends there. Streamers are all over, there’s balloon inflated with gravity magic so they float, and a banner that says “WELCOME HOME!” on it.

Sans, looking very tired, waves at you from one of the sofas after everyone yells ‘surprise!’ at you when you come in. “I really am tired, but this was already planned so…”

You sit by him and kind of look around. Frisk runs up and signs at you, “It’s about time you moved in with them! How are you supposed to be lovey-dovey with Papyrus if you’re in different houses?!”

“Frisk,” you groan, hiding in Sans’ shoulder since Papyrus is busy chatting with Charm (he and Boa seem to have been in on it) “Please. You’re being too cute again.”

They grin, then sign to Sans, “And you, you should hug them more. I promise humans are really soft to hug!”

He chuckles and gives you a small squeeze, making you smile, “fine. don’t need to tell me twice.” Bother Frisk and their matchmaking prowess!

Satisfied, they skip off, and Undyne comes over. Her red ponytail is tied lower than normal and she’s actually just in a normal white t-shirt and jeans tonight. You’re surprised the denim goes so well with her blue skin. “Yo! So you burned your house down, too! Haha, I knew you’d get enough passion in there eventually.”

“It wasn’t passion, Undyne. Papy and I weren’t even home when it happened,” you say, and she scoffs.

“You guys are so lame! Alphys and I-“

“tmi, undyne,” Sans says, letting you go. “and don’t let my cousins hear you or they’ll give you lessons. I’m serious.”

“Fufufufufu, your cousins. Those guys are a riot. I love them,” Undyne grins, “But anyway, I’m glad you and Papyrus are safe, punk. And now Alphys and I can bet over when you’re getting married instead of just moving in!”

“Noooo,” you blush and cover your face. “You’re a terrible friend! Horrible! Bad! Why do I like you?”

“Cause I’m awesome, duh.”

Thankfully, Undyne’s wife comes over and tugs on her sleeve, “L-leave them alone, Undyne. It’s supposed to be a party for them to feel b-better, not worse.” She was a sweet little yellow lizard monster, reminding you of a dinosaur sometimes, with glasses and wearing a black dress with white polka dots. Her name was Alphys. “Sorry, Y/n, a-also, um, Papyrus gave me your computer for restoration. Don’t worry. I’ve had a lot of practice getting smoke residue out of electronic. Haha…mostly my own.”

“Thank you so much, Alphys,” you smile at her, so grateful for ANY reassurance your life might go back to normal sooner rather than later. “I know you’ll do a great job. Anybody who deals with MTT on a regular basis has to have a lot of patience for electronic nonsense.”

She giggles and nods, “Well, h-he is my bestie, but you’re right.”

Papyrus finally comes back and plops next to you on the couch, handing you a cup of punch and one of your favorite cookies, hand made by your mom. “YOUR PARENTS ARE THRILLED THAT WE ARE BOTH SAFE AND HAPPY. THEY’RE STAYING AT A HOTEL, BUT THEN THEY’RE HELPING YOU REPLACE MORE STUFF TOMORROW.”

“And they didn’t tell me this themselves because?”

“THEY WANT YOU TO NOT GET TOO EMOTIONAL SINCE YOU’RE RECOVERING FROM A TRAUMA AND FEEL LIKE THEM CODDLING YOU WOULD DO THAT.”

“Well, when you’re right, you’re right. I’d be crying as soon as I saw them.”

Sans is snoring, leaning against you, and you just feel good about that. When you first met, you’re pretty sure he would have been as awake and alert as possible around you, but now he’s loosely got hold of your arm and is snoozing away on your shoulder. And he apparently had feelings for you, too. Huh. Well, you can’t say he isn’t cute, because he is.

“YOU KNOW,” Papyrus looks around and you spot your parents trying to keep their distance, “EVERYONE HERE WAS VERY CONCERNED ABOUT YOU. SANS TOLD OUR UNDERGROUND FRIENDS AND I TOLD YOUR FAMILY SINCE YOU WERE TOO UPSET TO. THIS ROOM IS FULL OF PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU.”

You nod, taking his hand. He leans over and nuzzles into your hair. “AND ISN’T THAT WONDERFUL?”

It’s overwhelmingly wonderful.

It wasn’t a long party, since it was late, but everyone except your parents and housemates had left to go home by eleven. Still, you’d ended up with gifts that made you embarrassed. New copies of your favorite books, used copies of games you liked that had been melted in the living room, a few pairs of shoes (you’d forgotten to buy those at the store so you liked these), and a box from your parents that contained a package of your favorite candies, a new weighted blanket, and your favorite childhood plush.

You’d thanked them, getting big hugs before they left, and sighed. The boys were cleaning up (except Sans, he was still sleeping on the sofa) and Charm came over as you held up your old friend.

“Well, that is an adorable plushie.” He smiled at you and looked them over, “And well loved, obviously. I’m guessing that’s from your family?”

“Yep. This little fella was my best friend as a child. I still love them very much,” you cuddled the toy close and took a deep breath. Having it did help you feel more grounded and secure, as did the weighted blanket. You’d be sleeping with that on tonight.

“Good, then you have a tangible signal that you are loved and supported.” He gestured, “Shall I walk you to your room, dear housemate?”

You pick up your package, even if Papyrus notices and takes the heavy blanket for you, and let Charm lead you up. Boa brings up the rear, carrying the rest of your presents either in his arms or with his magic.

Opening your door makes the exhaustion hit you, and you quickly go to the wardrobe after dropping your fluffy buddy off on the bed. Your various gifts are placed around the room, and Papyrus shoos everyone else out after they’re done. You do get a goodnight from each of them, though, and you like the injection of happiness that gives you.

“AND YOU KNOW WHERE THE BATHROOM IS?” Papyrus asks as you before he leaves.

“I found it earlier, thanks for asking, though,” you blow him a kiss and he giggles.

“ALRIGHT THEN. SLEEP WELL, LOVE, AND I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU IN THE MORNING.”

The door shuts softly, and you change into your pj’s. The house is quiet, and you manage to do your routine in the bathroom before coming back and going to sleep. It’s not easy, of course, but you manage it after a while of lying in bed and letting your thoughts run in circles.

Living in the skeleton’s house was…interesting to say the least.

During the weekdays, of course, you were out most of the time. Classes, work, various appointments, all of it took up time. But the evenings and weekends were quite hectic.

As soon as you got home at six, everybody was sitting down for dinner, if they were home. You could never really pin down any of the cousins’ schedules, but Spice was always home, as was Sweet-pea.

You and Spice had gotten to the point of ‘uneasy truce’ in your interactions because you were both awkward and nervous, trying not to step on each other’s toes, and not sure how to interact. That was okay, it was much better than when you ran into Whip and he made angry huffing sounds and rushed off in the opposite direction.

Sweet-pea was in his room almost all the time, except meals. You saw very little of him but made sure to say hello and be happy to see him when he did come out. That seemed to do well, as you’d noticed he came out for more meals than just dinner now.

Boa was also usually home but would go out to pick up more fabric or do grocery runs with Papyrus and Charm. Sans was out about the same as you, as was Charm, and Papyrus was out less frequently simply because, as he put it, “WHY DO I WANT TO STAY OUT IF YOU’RE AT HOME?”

You can’t say that doesn’t flatter you. You also can’t say the little hand touches and shy smiles you were getting from Sans didn’t make you blush and beam for several minutes afterward. It was one thing for your darling Papyrus to do it, that gave you a rush of excitement and affection, but for quiet, self-contained Sans to be making that effort to remind you that he cared…well, you enjoyed it immensely.

Papyrus and you had been asked to come in and discuss this relationship business by Sans’ therapist, and you…honestly had been a bit floored.

“Are you absolutely certain this is your choice?” Dr. Kevin had asked you, a forty something year old man with greying red hair. His brown eyes were concerned, “He’s told me about you. You’re a kind, selfless sort of person. I just don’t want you to overwhelm yourself, taking on a significant other with depression on top of one with autism.”

“Wait, Papyrus is autistic?” you hadn’t known that. “If that’s what your concern is, I don’t think we’ll have a problem. I kind of already assumed Sans would still be living with us forever anyway? I can’t imagine separating them.”

“Oh, so he hadn’t told you that. Sans told me and I thought it was common knowledge.”

“No, Papyrus never mentioned it, but looking back I can see some signs. But he’s just…Papyrus. I like him, whatever that includes, and it’s much the same for Sans. That first hurdle was a doozy, but he’s more than shown he’s not only improving himself, but that he cares about me. He’s helped me more times than I care to count on homework, on safety tips, on all kinds of little things, and then this fire event? Paying for the hotel the first night and letting me into his home…he didn’t even want to tell me yet, his cousin outted him and…” You look up and the doctor is trying to cover up a smile.

“Okay, I get it. He was right about you being very powerful in your opinions, too. I just want what’s best for everyone in this, and it seems like you feel the same as Sans does. That trying this out is the way forward. I just had to make sure for his sake and yours,” Dr. Kevin (you can’t pronounce his last name and he told you not to bother with it) gets up and gestures to the door, “Now I’ll talk with Papyrus and that’ll be that. Thank you so much for coming in, and for being there to support Sans. He’s a very fun person to talk to, even in my position.”

You nod, feeling good, and leave the room.

When it was all said and done, the three of you were called in together and Dr. Kevin seemed very pleased, “Well, considering everything, I’m really proud of what’s going on here. Mutual love and respect, open mindedness, and a healthy dose of communication. Even if it was forced,” He raises an eyebrow at Sans, who blushes. “Nah, I wouldn’t have recommended the timing either, but it worked out well and that’s because you three care about each other deeply and genuinely. Yes, the relationships are morphing a bit, but the foundations are solid, so I say go build on it.”

A glowing review, you think, and Sans asked as the three of you drove home in Papyrus’ new car, “so uh…d-does that mean we’re officially a polycule?”

Papyrus breathes hard through his nose, “SINCE THAT’S SOMEWHAT OFFCIAL TERMINOLOGY, I’LL LET THE PUN PASS, BUT YES, I THINK IT DOES.”

You nod and look around at where Sans is in the back seat, holding your hand out for him. “Wow, how come Dr. Kevin lets me have two boyfriends?”

Sans laughs and Papyrus groans in amused exasperation, but you’re happy and you know he and Sans are, too. Especially as Sans grips your hand with his pink mittens and squeezes with a lovestruck haze to his eye lights.

“Color me surprised, okay.” Sugar held up his hands, grinning happily.

“why? You lose your hue?” Sans chuckled as he was cleaning the soot off part of the machine.

“no, it’s just that I never expected you to express your feelings plainly enough to get anywhere with y/n. they’re not the most open person in the world when it comes to romance.”

Tilting his head, Sans put down his work, “what’s that mean?”

“I’m saying they’ve been with your brother for over a year and I haven’t heard a peep about anything other than dating. Not even adult dating, like, little kid crush dating,” Sugar lifted a brow bone, “sans, you realize they aren’t even banging, right?”

“I do, but it’s not like I wanna think about that,” the blush on his cheekbones was tempered by the irritated quirk of his smile, “why does that matter? More to life than sex, y’know.”

Sugar sighed, “look, I just don’t want you or papyrus to get heartbroken if they end up not sticking around. as far as I’ve known, getting intimate is a bonding thing. if they aren’t willing to bond with you, they aren’t gonna stay. This might be some kind of self-discovery fling for them or something.”

Sans is quiet for a minute, looking Sugar over before going back to his cleaning, “sugar, if it was a fling, they wouldn’t be so careful with us. They wouldn’t have gone to that meeting with my therapist and if they did, he wouldn’t have liked what he heard. I trust dr. kevin with everything; he knows about this machine, and us, and everything I’ve been through. Gaster included. He wouldn’t see someone pretending to love me and give his blessing.”

“but he’s human, and they are, too, it could be-“

“sugar,” Sans sighed, “look, I get where you’re coming from. I was there, for a long long time,” he looked up and smiled a little more genuinely, “but trying to avoid every possible bad scenario leads to you standing in one place, never moving, forever.”

Sugar held his own arms and looked conflicted.

“and, y’know, for all we know, y/n might be ace. Did ya consider that?”

“no,” Sugar let his skull droop, “but I sure hope not. Boa’s getting really attached to them, and my brother isn’t far off. They’d be pretty crushed if the only way they know to really show everything they feel is off the table.”

“oh…” that didn’t sound like a pleased response.

“you do know friends with benefits is a big thing in our universes, right? how else would my brother know half the things he needed to for the guard?” Sugar laughed humorlessly. “seriously, though, sans, that’s something we need to know sooner rather than later. the only ones who could ask are you and pap. Think about it.”

He walked out, and Sans groaned before thunking his skull onto the workbench. Welp, there went all those fluttery ‘new relationship’ feelings.

Telling Charm you didn’t have an exercise routine had been a mistake, especially with Papyrus and Boa in the room.

“You…don’t want to take care of your body?” he asked.

“What? Of course I do, I just….” You sigh, “Sweating is so disgusting, and my back hurts pretty bad if I try because of how stressed it makes me.”

“WORKING OUT IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN, NOT STRESSFUL,” Papyrus put down the dishes he was drying, “THAT’S WHY IT’S BEEN SO HARD FOR ME TO FIGURE OUT WHAT TO DO FOR THEM. I’VE BEEN WRACKING MY SKULL ABOUT IT SINCE WE MET PRACTICALLY.”

“Are there any activites you like, pumpkin?” Boa asked. He’d been calling you pumpkin since the welcome party, when your mom had been showing the boys your baby pictures, like when you dressed as a pumpkin for your first Halloween.

“I…like swimming? You don’t get hot, you don’t sweat, and it doesn’t stress me about how much…” you blushed. You hated feeling your fat move when you exercised. The jiggle and bounce just made you nauseous to think about. Even exercising alone didn’t decrease the revulsion.

Papyrus hugged you and made a small grunt. He knew you hated parts of yourself and did his best to stop those thoughts as soon as possible.

“Well, have you tried Yoga? Like, seriously tried it, not just taken a look,” Charm’s browbones were lowered and he was looking intently at you with his skull in his hands.

“No. I can’t exactly afford classes, especially with my freaking house dying in a fire.”

Boa snorted and Charm grinned, “Well, who said you’d have to pay me? I only take money for things while at work. Yoga is what I do for fun. Well, that and gymnastics, but you need equipment for that.”

He hopped up and clapped his hands, “Im going to get my mats and I want all four of us in the backyard in sportswear in ten minutes!” With that, he rushed away up the stairs.

“THIS IS EXCITING!” Papyrus squeezed you a bit, “I’M GOING TO GET DRESSED! OR RE-DRESSED!”

Boa just flung his shirt over his head, revealing a halter top underneath and mussing his carefully arranged purple scarf, “I’m already dressed!”

Well, he was wearing tights today, so you supposed you were the only one not running in glee from the dining room. You trudged upward, getting out the tight-fitting crop top and leggings you had bought for such a purpose. You’d expected to maybe wear these in secret as you tried, and failed, once again to get in better shape.

Well, at least Papyrus would be there. And Boa and Charm always called you lovely and beautiful, so you were pretty confident they wouldn’t laugh at your rolls. Even if your mind was hissing at you otherwise.

But you made your way out with a deep sigh. Spice was in the hall, but he blushed and hid back in his room quickly. Yep, still dancing around each other. Okay.

Heading down the stairs and through the kitchen, you open the door leading to the back yard to a comfy fall afternoon, the currently empty pool covered by a grey tarp foremost in your vision while the boys have taken places on the deck portion of the backyard, having various colorful mats on the ground in a formation with Charm at the front, and Boa and Papyrus on either side of an empty mat.

Charm is very excited, wearing a black top that connected around his neck and hand no other straps, as well as bright blue leggings. “Okay! We’re all here, so I’m going to start at the beginning. We’ll spend the first five minutes on breathing. It’s important to get your breath even and steady, even for us skeletons, because the regular rhythm is calming and helps your muscles relax. Or your magic, in our case.”

He sat down, and you followed along with Papyrus and Boa. “Sitting like this is one of the most simple poses, look at how my feet are under my knees? Do that.” You rearranged yourself, feeling a little unbalanced. “Now pull your back up straight and tall, as much as you can comfortably.” Ooh, you felt some popping in your spine. “And we will breathe with a count of four in, hold seven, out eight.”

He started the count, going through it about three times before starting to just talk to you all like an instructor, “Now, close your eyes and focus on nothing but my voice and your own breathing. How it gathers low inside you, then pushes out the tension you’re holding. Your muscles will respond as this tension eases, slowly relaxing into their natural resting state. Isn’t that nice? It feels so much better to relax.”

Sure, he was right, it did feel good, but you also had a lot on your mind. You didn’t know if your underwear was visible through your leggings, you didn’t know if there were bugs around, and your brain kept up a negative dialogue about how stupid you looked and how you weren’t going to stick with this even with the help of the boys.

“Reader?” Charm’s voice drew you out of your spiral, “You had a strange expression just now. Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, just…I feel silly and it’s not helping my inner monologue,” you feel embarrassed but better that someone noticed than you suffering in silence, you suppose.

“OH. WELL, YOU DON’T LOOK SILLY TO ME,” Papyrus says, “IN FACT, YOU LOOK QUITE FETCHING IN YOUR EXERCISE GEAR. THEY’RE VERY COLORFUL.” You’d specifically picked the most appealing and bright colors and patterns when you chose this outfit. You wanted to at least like what you were wearing if you were going to hate what you were doing wearing it.

Boa looked over and nodded, “It could be better fitted, but your personality is really on display and that’s a wonderful thing! You look ready to have fun and care for yourself at the same time.”

Charm agreed heartily, “As your friend and instructor, I have to say you look wonderful in your outfit, and you look perfectly normal as someone who is starting out. And as for your inner voice,” he makes a cartoonishly annoyed face, “it needs to stop badmouthing my friend or I’ll give it my two g about manners!”

You laughed, loving the enthusiasm, and that seemed to please all three. “Okay. I look normal then. Let’s keep going.”

“Right,” Charm shook himself a bit then closed his sockets, “Now we are going to try and do the breathing, but this time, we’ll focus on the balance in our backs.”

You spent the next half hour on the deck, listening to Charm lead all three of you through some simple poses. Honestly, it was the calmest you’ve ever felt when trying to exercise, simply because you had your sweetheart nearby and your two housemates who were quickly climbing the ranks in friendship with you. The yoga itself was not strenuous on your body like walking, or aerobics, or any other exercise regime you’d tried, and that combined with the calmer atmosphere of being with the people who genuinely liked and cared about you made it so much easier to not hate doing it.

It wasn’t your first choice in activity, no, and you weren’t exactly having ‘fun’ but you were neutral to it, and that was a huge improvement.

#reader x papyrus #undertale fic #underlust #lustswap #lustfell

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x-spooks · 4 years

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Just Right. (Got7 AU) Ep. 1

This is going to be a tugboat of a love storyline. Your name is Inez-Mi. Your stage name is Nyx. You’re the newest member of an existing K-Pop girl group, Goddess, who happens to be under JYP. You’re replacing the leader who left abruptly and under shh, shh, circumstances. This is my first post so if you have questions/concerns/comments please fell free.

Sweat ran trails down the curvature of your neck, disappearing under the collar of your plain black T. It clung to your tacky skin leaving nothing to the imagination. Your chest heaved as your lungs were forced to take sharp scorching breaths. You were definitely questioning your sanity as you stared at your reflection and those of your fellow members. You weren't Asian slim. You weren't build for show. You weren't quite athletic either. Nope. You were comparing yourself to the 4'10" to 5'5", 90 to 100lbs, flawless Koreans, Chinese, and Japanese dolls. The instructor snapped his fingers. "Nyx, you're delayed half a step." He voiced annoyed in Hangul. "I'll improve." You breathed. Your smoky gray eyes met his black ones. You lowered your gaze and bowed deeply. He narrowed his eyes while a hiss of disbelief left his thin lips. Mister Cho had made his disapproval painfully clear. Specially in front of your fellow members and the big wigs. If it wasn't for your father's reputation and name you would've bounced after two days. But you were a Moon. A daughter of an Idol turned famous producer/Actor who gave his free time to excel a company he was a board member to, JYP Entertainment. You rose from your bow. "Again." Mister Cho demanded. Over dramatized groans filled the practice room. A Korean member, Song-I, mouthed a few curses about you being a foreigner and something about choking you to death. A laugh busted from your pouters lip. You weren't one to flex, but you wouldn't take anything physical from anyone specially Song-I dramatic whiny no having ass. "Moon Inez-Mi!" Mister Cho yelled. "Are you wasting all of our time?" Your laugh died in the back of your throat at hearing your full name, "No, Sir." You military straightened your spine. "Everyone dismissed expect Nyx." He growled with impatience, "You stay here until you get it right." You nodded refusing to get upset. You bit hard on your inner lip until you tasted iron. You waited until everyone was long gone before you let your frustration leave you. Your lungs took in a long stinging pull of air. Instead of trying to break your knuckles against the wall of mirrors, You counted backwards from hundred letting your breath leave your chest slowly. After a good five minutes, You walked over to the sound system and snatched up the remote. You stabbed the play button. Music pumped out of the giant speakers arranged in the far corners. You started to do the mind numbingly simple steps. You felt like such a sale out to your gender. Women in history fought tooth and nail to not be seen as walking sex and how you were flushing their progress down the toilet. With every movement your voluminous curves gave way more than your full Asian members. You needed to talk to your Dad. You shoved all those thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. Listening closely to the music you continued to dance. You sighed at your reflection after dancing to the same track fifteen times. But You finally got the timing right. Your hands found your slim waist. You did a side turn. You stared at your side profile through the mirrors. Your butt and bust were big even with the tight sports wear. You kinda wished you took after your dad more. But your mom's Mesoamerican/north-western European genes were definitely dominate at least in you. Your eyes were large, circular with smoky gray iris and a deep double lid. Your skin tone was pale with pink undertones. A body that definitely had a Mexican flare. You did have your dad's full pouty lips, delicate nose and his cheek bones. You shook your head. "Fuck this." You sighed in English. You weren't ever going to be one of them. Movement caught your attention. You assumed it was your Dad checking in. He did it from time to time making all the other girls swoon. You let out another sigh, before masking your frustration. "Dad, your avid admirer are not here." Your perfect pitched Hangul voice was stinky with sweet sarcasm. "Dad?" Through the mirror, your eyes settled on a much younger man. He was handsome in a classic Korean drama way. It was then you noticed a few other guys staring in at you over his broad shoulders. They were all handsome in their own right. Your face went from white to scarlet in your embarrassment. You bowed deeply as you turned to face them. You tried to recall their names. "Please. Forgive my tone." You rose as she spoke in Hangul. K-Drama onyx eyes were cold as he took you in. You forced your expression to stay neutral. "I did not mean to be disrespectful." You tacked on. "Moon's daughter?" The tallest one asked not to you, but to K-Drama who had casually leaned in the door jam. He nodded slowly with a blank expression, but his eyes were steady and unyielding. Had you pissed him off before? "You must need the room." You forced yourself to blink so you wouldn't be staring at their stunning faces. GOT7, you suddenly remembered. "Please excuse me. I will leave you be." You rushed over to the equipment stand and set the remote back. "I heard you can do gymnastics?" One asked in perfect English. You glanced over your shoulder and nodded slightly, "I did participate when I was younger." You confessed in Hangul as you turned towards the sound of a masculine voice. Mark. Of course, you would remember the only American other than yourself. Well that was a lie you had a duel citizenship. He slipped past K-Drama and did a front aerial like it was as easy as touching his toes. He landed a few feet away from you. A smile took over your features as you gently clapped. Your embarrassment started to melt away. You took a good four steps forward and force your body to preform a back flip. You landed it out of pure muscle memory. You even did the proper posture for sticking it. You shook her head at your silliness. "I am Goddess's Nyx." You bowed again. A few loose strands of navy blue hair fell into your eyes and framed your face. You rose to see the members who were in the hall were now in the dance studio. K-drama didn't budge. He was still leaning against the width of the door observing.

Mark's smile could be heard in his voice as he introduced the members that were present. "The one still in the doorway is Jinyoung. Yugyeom is the tall one. That's Jackson."

You slightly bowed your head to Jinyoung and Yugyeom.

When your eyes moved to Jackson, he did a front flip so strong he landed in the super hero pose.

A genuine laugh left you as you slow clapped, "I wager your admirers appreciate it extremely." She teased in Hangul.

"You know it." He smiled as he rose from his stance.

K-drama aka Jinyoung voice killed the mood, "Mark."

"Hmm?" Mark glanced over to the door.

Jinyoung made the slightest motions that you barely see out from the corner of your eye.

"Are you following me?" You were suddenly distracted by the sting of annoyance in your older brother and New Manager of Goddess, voice as it seeped into the dance studio from the hall. "Why would I follow you?" A deep male voice countered with venom sharpening his every syllable. "I belong here. You. You're just the spoiled brat to a withered idol who hasn't got it through his thick skull his time has long since past." Jinyoung slammed the door. Not only shutting himself out into the hall, but also silencing the argument. "I don't know who that is, but they're in for a rude awakening." You dropped your beyond proper Hangul and picked up your American English. You started for the door. "That's our leader." Mark offered slightly annoyed himself. You stopped in mid-step. "What?" You glanced over to him. "Let me apology for him. JB and your Father aren't fans of each other." He offered hesitantly. "It boiled over today." Jackson offered. Your eyes went to Jackson then to the door while you wondered what had happened between JB and your dad. Everyone loved your dad or so you thought. A sharp clap gathered all of their attention, "While they finish their yelling contest let's see who can land the most moves." Yugyeom suggested in Hangul, "I'll keep score." "I'm in." Jackson and Mark said in unison. Their attention moved to you once you didn’t say anything. Jackson started to do a pleading puppy dog thing with his face. Mark smiled the sweetest smile and Yugyeom was laying the aegyo on thick. You playfully rolled your eyes while shaking your head. "The one with the least amounts of completions must purchase ice cream." You challenged in Hangul as you walked to the far side of the room. Sounds of agreement shot into the air. "Are we to perform the exact combination or a particular combination we have the most success with?" You called over your shoulder. "Best at." They agreed. "No simple combinations." You shot out in a playfully stern tone. You turned your back to the wall. You only had to wait a few seconds for Jackson and Mark to be next to you. "Ladies before gentlemen." You smiled. You took in a deep breath and made your Nikes do a few quick steps to get momentum. You forced your body to do a roundoff back tuck. You stuck it only to be abruptly face to face with a man who was beyond pissed. Your light eyes quickly took in his features. Two beauty marks above his left eye. His handsome features were set in a brooding expression. You would bet he always looked slightly intimidating. The little girl in you was instantly attracted. Like how you would fall for the rich bad boy in all those mangas you read in your pre-teens. You saw your brother was shoulder to shoulder with him from your peripheral. Well, as close as a 6'3" could be to a 5'11". You smiled a polite smile, but blatantly ignoring their combined attitude and turned on the heels of your Nikes. "Who proceeding?" "Inez-Mi." Your brothers voice was firm. "Il-Gun." You turned to face him but continued walking backwards towards Mark and Jackson. "Its time to go." He spoke in Hangul through clenched teeth. You didn't stop walking, "Sweet, smooth, satisfying ice cream is the reward." You voiced in Hangul as you felt the wall at your back. You leaned against it in a relaxed pose. You looked to Mark and Jackson then simply motioned for the next one to go. They didnt budge. You looked to the man next to your brother. You tried to keep your face neutral. His dark gaze locked onto her gray ones. If looks could kill. His kicked out chin and grimacing lips would make anyone with sense scurry. But did you have any? Nope. Your American arrogance kicked in. "Most honorable Lim Jae-Beom," You said in your sweetest Hangul tone, "you're going to receive lock jaw if you keep clenching your teeth and pushing out your chin like such." Your foreigner feature were set in a concerned expression. Mark, Jackson, and Yugyeom burst out laughing but quickly zipped their lips under JBs murderous stare. Jinyoung disguised his laugh as an awkward cough somewhere out of sight. "Now!" Gun snapped. You leaned off the wall unfazed by his anger and started towards them. You turned on your heels but continued to walk backwards "Forfeit means you owe me bubble tea." You smiled speaking English to Mark, Jackson and Yugyeom. Jackson confirmed with a kind expression. Mark flashed his famous smile and nodded. Yugyeom was red from trying to hold in his laughter. You turned and stopped in your steps. You were a few feet from the brooding twins. You bowed to JB and Gun, "It was a honor to meet you and please excuse my disobedience I did not mean to be disrespectful," You slowly rose with a soft demeanor. You turned at the waist slightly and waved goodbye at the guys. You even made a point to wave to Jinyoung who was casually sitting on the couch behind JB and Gun. His view point was perfect, you thought. He could watch everything unfold without being in the line of fire. You went out into the hall but before Gun shut the door behind him. You heard JB’s deep voice ask, "Why is she speaking like she's a descendant of royalty?" He was definitely angry. You laughed walking ahead of your brother. "Inez," Guns voice filled the hall, "this isn't funny." He growled, "Pissing off JB isn't worth the headache nor the ear full you're going to get from Dad. You need to learn your place." You rolled your eyes hard. "I can't comprehend the reason why?" Your voice caught some of his sassy tone. "Your my Guardian when father is not hovering. So would it not be you who receives father's wrath for not keeping me in my quote unquote place." The squeaking of his teeth grinding meant you had gone too far. "It's on Goddess' schedule for you to get ready for a radio interview." He talked through his teeth. You stopped in your steps until Gun was beside you, "I’m sorry." Your dared a glance up to Guns’ profile. "I did not intend to shove back so hard." An angry smile took hold of his intimidation features. "Dad didn't risk his neck and name for you to fuck this up. You are now the newest member and Leader of Goddess." He started walking so fast that you could barely keep up. "Start acting like it." You wanted to lash out. To scream at him that you had avoided the Idol path with college and spending time in the state's with our mom. But it wouldn't help you. You would come across as whiney, pathetic, and unmanageable. Gun was right, anyways. Their dad found a way to make lemonade out of a scandalous situation. A situation that was being covered up even within JYP Entertainment. Only the higher ups knew what happened and they weren't talking. All you were privy to was you were Goddess' Hail Mary pass. JYP Entertainment was going to drop the girl group, when your dad made the move to drag his 'multi-talented' daughter into the mix. You rolled your eyes hard as you remembered the press release. You were so lost in thought, you bashed into a slim, tall figure as you rounded the corner, "Excuse me," you bowed your head. "My apologies." Your embarrassment was written on your face as your eyes gazed up to a pair of grey, blue irises. "No," The well dressed man paused once he saw Gun. He sized him up with a cold expression, "Excuse me. I'm late and wasn't paying attention." His voice was lighter than You would have guessed. He bowed while side stepping. "Its all for show." An amused smile tugged on your lips as you spoke English. Your eyes settled on his handsome face as he rose. "Nyx?" He asked with a spark of recognition in his eye and finger gun pointing at you. You nodded with a kind smile. You thought of Got7 and remembered Mark and Jackson weren’t the only regular English speaker. "Bam Bam?" You countered. You definitely liked how his expression reflect his mood. There was no way he was Korean. A cocky smirk took over his full lips. "You might want to count to ten and mentally prepare yourself." You commented with some regret lingering in your voice. He arched a well manicured brow in confusion while losing his smile. "I might've," you paused thinking of a nice way to say you straight out disrespected his leader, "danced on JB’s last nerve." His full lips broke into a grin, "No worries." He laughed, "we do it all the time-" "BamBam." Gun voiced annoyed clearly ready to get out of here. He bowed his head in the slightest way. You sighed under your breath, "Gun-Hulk Smash." You felt Guns grip on your wrist. You had to resist ripping it out of his hand. You glanced down at your combined flesh. You were unimpressed. You softened your expression when your eyes found BamBam. "I am behind in my schedule as well it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance," you spoke in Hangul as you bowed again. "Good luck." Gun started walking while pulling you with him. "You too," BamBam smiled a kind smile that reached his eyes. His expression soured at Gun as you was tugged away. Once you two made it to the elevator, you tore your wrist from his grasp. Your light eyes narrowed as you stabbed your index finger into the up arrow. You wanted to say something, anything clever to make it clear he wasn't your guys Father, but nothing came to mind. The elevator dinged open. You got in after Gun. You went to the buttons and poked the floor you needed. While the doors were shutting you saw BamBam watching you two. You smiled a polite smile and waved.

#got7 au #got7 fanfic #got7fanfiction #jb #mark #jackson #park jinyoung #youngjea #bambam #yugyeom #kpop fanfic #got7 #lovestory

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siriuslyblack12 · 4 years

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chapter 7

“For the last time, I am not going as Dorothy for Halloween!” Sirius exclaimed.

“Well it’s either me or you, and mum’s already made my tin man costume. It’s sick, by the way.” James pleaded.

Remus put his face in his hands and groaned. The marauders were famous for their group costumes, but they’d been arguing about their plans the whole day. “I told you Wizard of Oz was a bad idea, why can’t we do Scooby-Doo like Peter said?”

“Because Remus, Mary said that Lily said that Scooby-Doo isn’t cool. We have to be cool.” James said, as if he was offended that the other boy didn’t already know. It was truly pathetic, how much he sacrificed for a girl who supposedly didn’t even like him back. “Plus two of us would have to dress as girls, so unless you want to spend the night in an orange turtleneck and a wig, we’re doing Wizard of Oz.”

Gregg’s perhaps wasn’t the best place to discuss their Halloween plans, as firstly, they were surrounded by people they weren’t inviting to their party and secondly, Peter’s mouth was full of pastry. Sirius took one of the many rolls the boy had laying in front of him and took a bite for himself, arms around Remus’s shoulders. “Who’s to say that he wouldn’t be Daphne?”

“’m not being Daphne, or Velma for that matter. I thought we agreed that I’d be Shaggy.”

“More like shag me!” Sirius laughed far too loudly considering they were in a public place. “You’re Daphne, I’m Velma, Peter’s Shaggy and James is Fred. We could even get Lils to be Scooby, if it’s cool enough for her.”

“It’s definitely not.” James said, “I don’t even know why you’re so opposed to Dorothy, I reckon you could pull it off.”

“You’re talking to a taken man here Prongs, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Remus rolled his eyes but sunk further into Sirius’s arms, relishing in the heat. They’d been together for a little over a month, and it had been the best month of life. Dates, dinners, just spending time together still made his stomach flip. “Well it’s good that I agree with James then, isn’t it?”

Peter finally spoke, the pastries gone from his mouth, “Maybe we should vote on it.”

There was a general hum of agreement on the table, and Peter continued, “All in favour of Scooby-Doo?” Sirius raised his hand, glaring at Remus, obviously trying to get him to do the same. “All in favour of Wizard of Oz?” Everybody except Sirius raised their hand, in fact he defiantly pressed his down into the table.

“Then it’s settled, we get to see Padfoot in heels!” James said excitedly.

“You should be so lucky.”

Remus sighed, jumping in before there was a full out brotherly brawl between the two boys, “Where are we even going? I thought Marlene said she couldn’t host this year.”

“That’s true,” Sirius began. “Which is why we’re going to Mary’s. Who knew that Mary fucking MacDonald was a party animal? The girl who got like, 5 A’s in her exams last year.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.” Peter said cautiously. He and Mary had also been steadily dating since September, spending even more time together than before. It was quite rare to see the two apart.

Sirius laughed, “Well considering our Moony’s grades were even better than that, I’d say it’s not.”

“How the fuck is everyone so smart?” James groaned.

Remus chuckled along with everyone, mostly because he didn’t want to confront it. He himself had no idea how he’d managed to get the grades he’d gotten, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. His mum had bought him a cake and everything.

Peter cleared his throat, standing unceremoniously. “Well, my mum probably wants me back home soon. I’ll see you at Mary’s.”

They watched as he gathered his things and left with a final wave and smile, followed by James doing the same, “C’mon Pads, mum said we could have the TV today. Finally!”

It didn’t go unnoticed to Remus how Sirius’s face lit up in glee at the mention of Mrs Potter. The smile spread over his face all the way up to his eyes, dimples settling in his cheeks. He was so happy. He wished it could always be like that. “You go ahead… me and Re might stay for a bit.”

Remus’s eyebrows shot up, “Will we now?”

“Only if you want.”

He scoffed at the thought that he’d turn down spending time with his boyfriend, yet was secretly delighted that Sirius cared enough to ask the question. James waved them off with a knowing smirk as Remus’s hand was grabbed and dragged out of the bakery. Excitable puppy.

It was only half an hour later as the two sat atop a hill onlooking the business of the town, their hands threaded between them and the other clutching some cheap brand of chocolate. The crisp Autumn air surrounded them, enclosing them in the comfort and peace of the gradually lowering sun. Remus went to look over at Sirius, only to find him looking right back at him. He smiled.

“You always look at me like that,” Remus started with adoration. “Like I’m worth something, or like I’m precious. I don’t know.”

“You are precious, Moons. For some reason you refuse to admit it, I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking.” Sirius said smugly. It was almost matter-of-factly, like he was so sure and confident in what he was saying.

Remus rolled his eyes, biting back the biggest grin in favour of leaning towards the boy for a sweet kiss. It was brief, but still made his head spin as he broke away drearily, “Baby.”

“Baby?” Sirius laughed. He took a strand of Remus’s hair between his two fingers and twirled it absentmindedly. “I like it.”

“You think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t!” He only laughed harder, tackling his boyfriend to the ground despite his loud protests. They fell into each other arms as they rolled over in the grass, smiling wide and chuckling to themselves. “I like it. I really do.”

Remus smiled, still disbelieving but feeling sarcastic enough to comment, “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Fuck, I love it!” Sirius groaned and met his lips in a longer kiss. He licked into his mouth through the smile on his face, hands cupping around the back of his neck. Remus sighed softly as the boy in front of him moved down to his neck ever so softly; leading him to blink up at the sky. Content and love were the only two thoughts running through his mind.

I can’t love him already, can I? Isn’t it too soon?

“Sirius-, you do know we’re, shit, we’re in public.” His thoughts were incoherent with the feather-light brush of lips just below his jaw.

Sirius pulled away slowly with one last peck to Remus’s lips, pausing for a moment to drink in his features. He bit his lip in a manner that could only be considered seductive. “I apologise, your majesty.” That earned him a punch to the shoulder. “We could go back to your house, if you want. Would your mum mind?”

Remus considered it, before deciding, “It’s probably best if we stay here, unless you want to answer about a million questions about everything she can think of.”

“I really don’t mind-“

“I know that,” He cut him off, drawing his eyes back to the view in front of him. Truth be told, he thought the real view was Sirius. “I just don’t think I could handle it. When I’m out to her, maybe. Or whenever she’s not in.”

Sirius nodded to show he understood and followed Remus’s gaze. “What about James’s house then? Sometimes I think mum loves us more than she loves James.”

“To be fair, can you really blame her?”

He shoved Remus’s chest and barked that beautiful laugh that was so often heard falling from his lips. “I’m telling Prongs you said that!”

“I’d like to see you try.” Remus teased lightly, thus ensuing another tackle to the ground. He hid his face in the collar of Sirius’s jacket to stifle his laugh. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found someone he could be so open with, someone that would listen happily to every one of his minor inconveniences or whims. Suddenly, his thoughts drowning out reality, the atmosphere around them became a lot sadder, more gentile. “You call Mrs Potter mum.”

“Well noticed.”

Remus put a hand to his heart in mock offence, “I was just wondering what is was about, that’s all. It’s not exactly like the time you called McGonagall mum by accident, is it?”

Sirius whined in protest at the mention of that infamous incident, protesting that the boys promised to never mention it again. The exact details were largely unknown, but it was held above his head to torment him playfully nonetheless. “I’ve been staying with them since… well you know, I guess it’s just become a habit. At least she’s better than my actual mother.” He laughed bitterly.

Remus’s lips thinned out as he asked cautiously, “Have you spoken to Regulus since we saw him?” After saying it he realised how it could have come off. “Not that… Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s…” Sirius trailed off, hands clutching at Remus’s waist as if trying to steady himself. “Short answer, no I haven’t.”

Remus made a sympathetic noise, “Do you want to speak to him?”

I’m over-stepping. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

“Of course I do, to be honest I just don’t know how. He’s so far away, you know? And he’s still in that fucking house and I just-“ Sirius sighed in frustration and hung his head, a small smile still determined to stay put on his lips.

Bringing the dark-haired boy to his chest, Remus tried his best to reassure him. “There’s no pressure to do anything, Pads. Find him whenever you’re ready, whether that’s tomorrow or in a month.”

“I know.” Sirius said quietly. “It’s just… a lot. What would I even say?”

“Whatever you need to, baby.”

Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting when he’d asked Regulus to come meet him in the park near the Black house. Memories of his childhood flashed through his mind, being in that park, playing with his little brother without a care in the world. He wondered when everything had started to get so messed up, and if it could ever be like it was. For now he would just have to take Remus’s advice and talk to him. Say whatever he needed to.

“Do you remember that game we used to play? The castle one? We’d stay here all day waiting for the climbing frame to be free and then pretend it was our castle, like we were in charge.” A familiar voice said coming up beside him.

“Reg-”

“No, no, let me.” Regulus insisted, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I hope your happy.”

Sirius spoke slightly louder than his brother, temper rising at the surprising change in tone, “What?”

“You finally got what you wanted, didn’t you? You’ve never liked it there, even when we were kids and everything was fine, you still weren’t happy. Well congratulations, you won. You fucking won and now you never have to go back. Some of us aren’t that lucky.” The last words were almost spat, ended with a bite of bitterness. His face was drained of colour, jaw set defiantly.

“Nothing was ever ‘fine’ about that house and you know it. How the hell was I supposed to stay?” Sirius replied through gritted teeth.

“You’re asking someone who did have to stay, you do know that right?”

Sirius looked at his brother face on for the first time in weeks, examining it closely and seeing the nerve that had been struck paint itself visibly. His heart filled with sympathy, but his head still maintained his anger. He couldn’t understand the position Regulus was in. He could never understand the position Regulus was in.

“I always knew you were selfish.” Regulus turned away from the close eyes.

Sirius stepped forward, fingers pointing into his brother’s chest to emphasise his point, “You can’t call me fucking selfish for caring about myself, okay! I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry, for leaving you there, Reg. I’m trying to make it better, I really am, but if you’re going to stand there and call me selfish and tell me I shouldn’t have done it then you can leave. Right now.”

Regulus was quiet for a few moments before turning back and muttering a short “Sorry.”

The two fell away from each other in a silent truce, eyes flicking over the park in front of them. So many memories, all of which dear to each of their hearts. “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know if you can.” Regulus replied honestly, fighting back the welling of tears. “It’s not as simple as just leaving, Sirius.” He didn’t even realise that that was the first time he’d said that name in weeks.

Sirius pulled down the cuffs of his jacket, “There’s always room for you at the Potter’s.”

“Not bloody likely.”

“Is that why the first thing James asked me when I went there is if you were with me?”

Regulus huffed, running a hand through his hair in a similar manner to Sirius’s own nervous gesture. It was a known fact that he didn’t really like his brother’s friends, which only made him more suspicious of James Potter’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Mother will be wondering why I’m not home already, I best go.”

“’m not stopping you.” Sirius fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it on, seeing a few unopened messages from Marlene and Remus when an idea came to his mind. “Text me if you need anything, whenever you feel like it. I don’t think dear Mother could manage to police who you’re talking to.”

After a hum of agreement from Regulus, he continued, “You could come to Mary’s Halloween party as well, I remember how much you used to love dressing up.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Just think about it.” Sirius pleaded, hands pressed together. “I’ll text you the details.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled his brother into what was at first a casual hug, which then turned into a tight embrace. The tears that had been building in Regulus’s eyes spilled slowly as he held onto Sirius tighter than he’d ever held anyone, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Maybe he would go to this Halloween party, if it meant getting away from his Mother and closer to the only member of his family he truly cared for.

October 31st was a night that for many meant dressing up, eating sweets and having youthful fun. For others it was more about the parties, drinking and drugs and all things that would be regretted in the morning. For the marauders however, most popular people in the school, resident trouble-makers, why couldn’t they have both?

“Oi Pete, stop eating all the snacks! The rest of us want to eat too.” Remus could hear James shout over the noise of the music blasting through the house.

“Leave the man be, Prongs. If he wants to stuff his face on mini-sandwiches who are we to stop him?” Sirius reasoned, taking one between his fingers and holding it up to Remus’s mouth. The boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but took the food that was offered to him nonetheless.

He’s cheesy. Good to know.

James took his attention away from Peter and towards the affection couple, smiling brightly, “Aw, you guys are too cute.” They groaned at that, before he muttered, “Me and Evans could have that, but she has to go around calling me ‘arrogant’, ‘self-centred’ and ‘the biggest prick she’s ever seen’. What’s she even on about?”

“I stand behind that!” Lily said from somewhere in the living room.

It was quite hard for Remus to take the scene in front of him seriously, considering everyone had dressed as beloved characters. Sirius had gone as far as to tie his hair up in two pigtails, red ribbons in tow, and wear one of Marlene’s blue dresses (with shorts underneath it, he’d assured everyone). He looked good. Remus had never thought he’d think that about someone in a Dorothy costume. For a moment he forgot that he could now do something about it, but before long he was stepping forward and taking the boy in his arms.

Sirius let out a surprised laugh, “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You want another mini-sandwich? You should probably have some now before they’re gone.”

“I’m good.”

The two stayed like that for a few moments, basking in each other’s arms peacefully. They had already been such good friends that this felt natural and comfortable. It was sweet, a little excessive, but after pining for so long it was almost necessary to be close as often as possible. Making up for lost time. Remus noticed Sirius glance at the door worriedly, and so asked “Waiting for someone?”

Sirius’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, “You could say that, yeah.”

Remus gave him a concerned look, shifting so that his arms fell loosely around they boy’s waist, “Who? I thought everyone was already here.”

Looking into the tawny-haired boy’s eyes, he thought for a moment. He’d invited Regulus without telling anyone, not even Mary, and it wasn��t exactly as if he was friends with anyone there. “Don’t worry about it, they’re probably not coming anyway.”

“Hey, hey,” Remus said as Sirius went to turn away from his embrace. Putting together the pieces in his mind, it was all much clearer than it had been, “It’s not Regulus, is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” The boy dismissed. “Let’s just have a good time.”

With a final caring look at each other, Sirius trying his best to reassure the other, the two moved into the party and separated reluctantly to spend their time equally between most of the people there. Remus found Lily and Dorcas, talking excitedly about some book or other over the fireplace and found himself joining them in conversation. He couldn’t help but notice Dorcas’s strange costume: a furry blue jacket and eyes painted onto a hat.

“I thought you and Marlene were doing a couple’s costume,” He prompted gently. “No offence or anything, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”

She smiled, “I’m the cookie monster, obviously. Marlene is Elmo.”

“Because they’re such a famous couple.” Lily said amusedly, arms folded across her chest.

“Of course.”

Sirius had found the other half of the strange couple, along with James, and the three were discussing the latest football match. He himself didn’t care much for the sport, favouring swimming far more, but watching his friends animatedly replay it was entertaining on it’s own.

“Did you see that penalty though!” Marlene exclaimed. “Sirius, what did you think?”

Startled and confused, he simply replied with the first thing that came to his mind after listening to their discussions, “It was ludicrous, yeah.”

“You’ve said that about everything, mate.” James laughed.

“Fuck.”

As they continued to talk and gossip, Sirius found his eyes flicking over the room to find Remus, deep in his own conversation. He was hit with a wave of emotion, of love, as he watched the way his hands moved as he made his point and the curls of his hair bounced as his head nodded to something Lily had said. This only grew as Remus met his eyes and sent him the most dazzling grin, causing Sirius to swoon slightly.

Peter was off somewhere else in the house, most likely damaging things and making Mary run after him; James was talking everyone’s ear of; Regulus couldn’t even show up to the party in the first place but the only boy that mattered to Sirius in that moment was the one he was looking at. The boy he was in love with. And suddenly, just looking at him, the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of them. Just for a moment, it could be like that.

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bebecue · 5 years

Text

sucker punch

Jooheon | Comedy, fluff | 1.5k words

a little piece for @061094 (your new icon actually inspired this a little bit!)

“Those contact lenses look terrifying,” Kihyun remarks, while Wonho stands behind him, one of his hands gripping Kihyun’s forearm tightly.

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “They look even better in this lighting. The black light really makes them pop.”

“Weeklies?” Kihyun asks, seemingly unbothered by Wonho’s tight grip on him.

“Dailies,” you confirm, attempting to get your voice heard over the wailing noises and ominous music coming from the speakers behind you.

Kihyun nods, and Wonho attempts to pull him away from you.

“Let’s go!” Wonho pleads, tugging at Kihyun’s arm.

Kihyun rolls his eyes as we gives you a wave with his free hand. “Sorry, I gotta go get this baby out of here.”

You stick your thumb up at him as the two of them walk away from you, and you hear Wonho scream as they reach another actor at the corner. Their designated cameraman follows them, struggling to keep up with a beast of a device set on his shoulder.

You’re the first of the several actors waiting to scare the members of this idol group for one of their upcoming variety shows. Their management had given you quick profiles of them to study - basically what they looked like, who scares easily, and who doesn’t - a week before filming. You and your castmates studied them, and decided that the person who’d be the most fun to scare is one of their rappers - Jooheon. And they’d made him walk the house by himself, the poor guy. He’s going to be an easy target.

Two more groups walk by you, about five minutes in between them. Shownu and Hyungwon - two easy-going guys, who seem surprised when you wail loudly and reach out to touch them, but give you quick and embarrassed smiles as they walk past you.

Next are Minhyuk and I.M - Minhyuk is your typical haunted house-goer. He yells out when you approach them, but laughs nervously after realizing you are an actor. I.M is kinda strange. He lifts his hand - his thumb and pinky finger sticking out, and he waves it.

“What’s up, baby?” he croons, giving you an exaggerated wink. “What are you doing after this?”

“Let’s go, you weirdo,” Minhyuk insists, shoving him forward.

“Call me!” I.M yells back at you, still waving his hand. You stare after him and wave, not sure how else to respond to his untimely advances.

After the two of them, nothing happens, for what seems like ten minutes. A tinny voice speaks in your ear.

“The last guest is a little scared,” your manager tells you through your earpiece. “It’s taking him some convincing to go in. We might be here a while before he decides to chicken out. Just wait for the all clear.”

The lighting inside the then house brightens, and the sounds over the speakers are toned down slightly, signalling the actors to wait on standby. Another few moments pass, and the lights go out again, the speakers returning to their full volume.

Jooheon’s entry into the house is marked by a short, sharp shout. It’s loud enough that you can hear it, despite coming from the entrance of the house. He’s trying to hype himself up.

Your manager speaks up again. “Okay, let’s go, last guest!”

It’s not long before Jooheon reaches you - you decide to really frighten him, waiting right up until he almost passes you before you do your thing.

He looks exactly like the photo in his profile. Light blue hair, dressed in designer streetwear. The photo they had provided you had portrayed him smiling - his eyes shaped like crescent moon slits, his dimples digging into his cheeks. But right now, he looks like he’s either going to pass out or throw up.

You pull your standard act - you wail, and you reach out to grab his elbow. He looks at you, eyes wide, his whole body frozen in fear.

Gotcha, you think.

You and your castmates had placed bets on how he might react. Most of them thought he’d just scream and run off. One of them really wanted to see him faint. But you had watched a clip from one of their previous variety shows, and he had beatboxed his way through a similar set up.

Of all the scenarios you and your castmates had come up with, there was one that you were not expecting. That was for him to retaliate physically.

It seems to happen in slow-motion - his curled fist whips out, and it approaches your face. You can’t do anything but stand there and watch as it comes closer, and finally, his knuckles make contact with your nose.

Fear and adrenaline seems to have given Jooheon an increased amount of strength. You topple backward from the unexpected punch, and fall with your back flat on the ground. A few seconds pass where all you see are blurred flashes of the purple light, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Your surroundings brighten, and the sounds from the speakers come to a sudden halt. They’ve shut the haunted house down and turned the emergency lights on.

“H-holy shit,” you hear Jooheon’s cameraman breathe.

You hear several sets of footsteps approach you, and you hear your manager yelling at everyone to get out of the way. The last thing you remember hearing before your vision fading is Minhyuk yelling, “Jooheon punched a ghost!” Everything then turns to black.

---

The lights in the greenroom feel like they’re making your headache worse, but your manager had insisted to keep them on to keep you from passing out.

Your nose feels like it’s on fire, and you groan as you try and recall what had happened. An idol had sucker punched you right in the face. Your castmates are never going to let you live this down.

They had shut down the house and cancelled Jooheon’s walk-through while you were examined by your manager.

“No concussion,” he had said, after shining a bright light into your eye. “But stay here while the painkillers do their thing.”

The rest of your castmates had been sent home, most of them hollering at you as they passed the greenroom. You stuck your middle finger up at them from where you lay on the couch, an ice pack pressed against your nose.

An hour since the incident has passed, and you can still hear hushed voices talking outside the room. Starship’s staff and your manager, you assume. You had since taken off your costume and your wig - the white smock you were wearing had been drenched in your own blood which had come from your nose.

Your consciousness starts to fade again, the fluorescent lights not quite doing their intended job of keeping you awake. You hear someone enter the room, their shoes scuffling across the carpet. The footsteps reach you, and your eyes snap open, staring at the person standing beside the couch.

Jooheon screams, and he jumps back a few feet, almost falling over in the process. You reciprocate his sudden fear, sitting up on the couch, then crouching on top of it with your hands outstretched in front of your face.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” you yell at him, afraid that he might try and punch you again.

Jooheon stops screaming abruptly, and he looks at you, squinting slightly.

“Oh-oh my god,” he gasps, his hand on his chest as he approaches you again, slowly. “Your eyes.”

The contact lenses. They must have scared him when you had opened your eyes. You quickly reach into each eyeball and pluck them out, tossing them onto the floor. The abandoned white irises look almost comical, stuck to the carpet. You lower your hands and blink at Jooheon.

Jooheon chuckles nervously, his hand lowering from his chest. “Huh, I guess they are normal, after all.”

“Can I help you?” you spit tersely, glaring at him partly in annoyance, and partly because the lights and the sudden rush of adrenaline are making your head spin. “Or are you here just to make weird comments about my eyes?”

“Oh, uh…” Jooheon comes closer to you, taking his cap off and holding it in his hands. He presses his lips together, as if unsure of how to continue. “I’m really sorry for knocking you out. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You squint at him, and you want to snort, but that would make your nose flare up again. “Your company wants to make sure that I don’t press charges.”

“No, I really am sorry!” Jooheon insists, his hands wringing his cap. “I feel so bad. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

You gaze at him, trying to gauge his intentions. His apology seems genuine. You realize, with him standing there, his hands clutching his Balenciaga cap, and his dimples appearing with his small smile, that he’s actually… quite cute.

You’re not sure if it’s the painkillers or the near-concussion, but you feel a sudden surge in courage. “Take me out to dinner,” you blurt, unable to stop the ridiculous request from spilling out.

Jooheon blinks at you, unable to mask the surprise from appearing in his features. It then fades into amusement quickly, with his eyes disappearing into his dimpled smile.

“Sure. Do you like dumplings?”

#monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x fic #monsta x x reader #monsta x reader #jooheon #lee jooheon #jooheon scenarios #jooheon fanfiction #jooheon fic #jooheon x reader #rika.doc #hi n i hope u like this :D

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archibaldcurothers · 6 years

Text

Take the Long Way Home, pt. 1 (Sesshomaru x Reader)

Author’s note: This is the first installment for a cohesive series pertaining to “Sesshomaru x Reader”. I may make other SxR stories unrelated to this, in which case I will denote that they are a stand-alone (or a new series). But I’m gonna warn you right now that I intend for this series, in particular, to be a long one. I literally have no end game in sight at the moment; I’m just letting it take me for a ride and I’m floating it out into the ether in the hopes some of you will enjoy it.

*****

It was a warm, languid evening in the countryside; quiet, save for the playful giggling and water splashing of a young girl in a shallow stream, and the exasperated scolding of her companion.

"Rin, stop at once! I do not care to sleep in wet garments, to do so is to invite ill health!"

"Oh Master Jaken, you worry too much!" the precocious young girl chimed as she continued to kick up great splashes of water.

The little green demon scoffed, "You would do well to listen to me for once, Rin! I will not tend to you if you catch sick."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I suppose that would be a burden on you...," her voice trailed off and her splashing ceased as she attempted to give great consideration to this. And yet, as she was a girl of no more than eight, she found it quite difficult to sustain such prolonged reflection, and her attention was soon captured by a lightning bug lazily flying past her. She smiled in unbridled joy and carefully clasped her two cupped hands around the creature, securing it, safely. In her delight, she called out to Jaken, but he was still cross and made quite the point of ignoring her. This did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm, however, and she rushed out of the stream to show her treasure to her other caretaker, the mighty daiyokai, Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru was only a few yards away from the stream, gazing out at the horizon where the sun was slowly disappearing. He heard his ward approaching him and turned his head every so slightly, enough to acknowledge her presence but not so much as to suggest he was a great deal invested in what she was going to say. It's not that he didn't care, rather the opposite - he was incredibly fond of Rin and in all that she did and said, but Sesshomaru was a proud demon who had to keep appearances, and those appearances demanded he maintain a certain aloofness towards the child.

"Lord Sesshomaru!" she exclaimed as she came to an abrupt halt beside him. She reached her small, cupped hands up to him. "Look," she said in a hushed tone as she slowly opened her hands to let the flickering light of the insect shine forth. Sesshomaru regarded it for a moment, but its luminescence was immediately overtaken by a great orange flash of light in the forested area that bordered the stream. Rin gasped in wonder, so transfixed by the sight that she failed to notice the firefly crawl out of her open hands and fly away.

The curious orange radiance faded, allowing the creeping shadows of dusk to resume. Without much thought, Rin took off running, gleefully, towards where the light had come from.

At this, Jaken became panicked and shouted shrilly after her, "Rin! Where do you think you're going? You get back here!" His words had no effect on her. "Oh, you terrible, willful child! Come back at once!" Again, she ignored his commands and continued running.

Unlike Jaken, Sesshomaru was unperturbed by Rin scurrying off. He watched her scamper into the tree line and then slowly made his way to follow her. There was no telling what that light had been, whether it was malicious or benign, and he was loathed to leave the girl vulnerable if it were to be the former. So long as he followed her, however, she would be safe; he was certain of that.

He had just entered the forest when he heard a shriek from the girl; he immediately quickened his pace and, in a moment, was right beside Rin. The girl had fallen backwards from her scare and was sitting on the ground looking ahead. Sesshomaru observed that she didn't seem hurt or particular afraid, but he followed her line of sight and saw a human woman, strewn on the forest floor.

Rin didn't look away from the body as she asked, "Lord Sesshomaru, is she...is she dead? Did someone hurt her?"

"No, Rin, she's not dead and there is no one else in the woods but us." At this, Rin perked up, got to her feet, and was about to approach the unconscious woman but Sesshomaru's firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Wait here," he said, as he approached the stranger. Rin did as she was told but watched anxiously, wanting to know if the woman was okay.

When Sesshomaru reached the body he looked it over, suspiciously. She seemed to be wearing a hakama, of sorts, but it was so close to her figure that, upon first glance, he had thought her legs were just peculiarly colored. Her top half was clad in a soft, maroon fabric that he could only compare to the top half of a kimono, albeit without any overlay or a way to open it. Her feet were adorned with what appeared to be boots, but they were a deep violet, which he had never before seen.

He nudged the woman with his foot and was met with a pained groan escaping her. Rin called out to him, “Lord Sesshomaru, she sounds hurt! You have to help her!”

Sesshomaru looked back at the child and told her, “We cannot go around saving every foul human we come across. Especially one so…unusual.”

At this, Rin’s chin began to quiver as she fought back the wave of grief rushing over her. She had always been a sensitive creature, and the pain of this unknown woman, and the fate she would likely meet, was causing her heart to ache.

Seeing his ward in such distress over the stranger, Sesshomaru turned back to the unconscious woman. He examined her briefly again, and let out a sigh as he knelt down to get a better look. He turned her over so that she was laying on her back; she was even more unusual than she first appeared. Her skin was smooth and supple, as if it had never experienced anything but luxury, unheard of for all but the most elite of humans. He looked down to her hands, they, too, were soft; free of the calluses that hardened so many human hands against the unforgiving nature of existence. He looked to her face, but her hair lay across, obstructing it from view.

He gently brushed it aside, his claws delicately grazing her skin. This sensation sent a wave through the woman, the primordial part of her mind instinctively recognized the claws as an immediate danger; she gasped as her eyes flew open and she clambered to sit up and distance herself from the one who bore that which could harm her.

Sesshomaru was only mildly startled by this sudden awakening, his eyes widened and his muscles tensed in anticipation of a fight, if you could call a hopeless altercation between a weak human woman and a daiyokai a fight. He observed as the young woman’s chest heaved from her sudden exertion; he could hear her heart thudding away at an incredible pace, the kind he was accustomed to hearing from humans when they realized a demon was amongst them.

He stood back to his full height and gazed down at her. She was afraid, that he was sure of, but she wasn’t only afraid of him. Her eyes darted around her surroundings in bewilderment, he could see her trying to make sense of what she was seeing - and failing. Why the forest would cause such confusion was unclear to him, so he asked her, “What are you doing out here?”

************************************************

How did you end up here? Who was this guy? You had been out with your friends, but then…

Your memory was hazy and your head hurt. But you couldn’t let that interfere, you needed to figure out where you were; what was happening.

The man had spoken to you but you couldn’t understand him. You stared at him in confusion. This seemed to annoy him. He spoke again; maybe repeating himself? You weren’t sure, but you did know that you still couldn’t make sense of his words. You stared at him, trying to force yourself to decipher what was happening.

At your continued silence, the man glared at you, said a few words, and then turned from you and began walking away. However, as he did so, a young girl darted past him and right up to you. She stopped but a mere foot away, smiling widely at you and exclaimed cheerily…well, you weren’t sure what. You could not understand her either. What was going on? Why couldn’t you understand them?

Before that thought could go any further, the man was again in front of you, but this time he stationed himself between you and the girl, his sudden appearance pushed the small one back a few steps to make room for him. You knew instinctively he was protecting her from you, but why? Did he think you were dangerous? Had you done something you didn’t remember?

You looked into the man’s eyes and that’s when you realized they were golden. And was that eyeshadow? Not that you were one to judge, to each his own, but then he also had some magenta stripes on his cheeks as well as a crescent moon on his forehead; his hair was almost comically long and silver - a wig? Not to mention his clothes! You’d never seen anything so ornate, so ostentatious. The fur boa wrapped around his right shoulder caused the word “DIVA” to flash like a neon sign in your head.

You gave your head a curt shake and tried to refocus. None of those things mattered. You looked him in the eyes again, cleared your throat, and shakily said, “Sorry, I- I’m not really sure, um, what’s going on?”

At this the man’s severe expression softened, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to one side. “Like a confused puppy,” you thought to yourself. You slowly shifted your position so that you could stand, your movement caused him to station himself even more squarely between you and the girl. You slowly raised your hands in front of you, palms out towards them, to show you meant no harm. The man eyed you cautiously, but then the girl spoke to him, shifting his attention.

You watched as the girl excitedly and animatedly spoke to the man, often gesturing and looking over at you. The man’s face remained neutral as he listened to her, and when she was finished he glanced over at you, as if he was making some sort of calculation.

Abruptly, he seemed to call out to someone and you felt a surge of panic course through you at the thought of more strangers coming to ogle and poke at you. Unfortunately, you still weren’t prepared for the small green…monster that burst through the brush and came to the man’s side. You let out a yelp and stumbled backwards. The girl rushed over to you despite the man calling to her. She took your hand in hers and looked up at you, smiling, and speaking softly. You guessed she was trying to explain something to you, probably what the hell that thing was, but you still couldn’t make sense of anything being said.

She started to turn from you, but held on to your hand and tugged you along behind her, towards the man and the creature. You thought about yanking your hand away and running off, but you had nowhere to go and nobody to run to, so you sheepishly followed after her.

Part Two

#sesshomaru #sesshomaru x reader #sesshoumaru #sesshoumaru x reader #sesshomaru fanfic #sesshoumaru fanfic #inuyasha fanfic #sesshomaru x reader fanfic #sesshoumaru x reader fanfic #no betas sorry

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