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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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Needled Words

Characters: Childe, fm!reader

Word Count: 1,691

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: When does a joke go too far, when is a jab more than just friendly? Where does the line blur and where does it stop?

In which Childe’s teasing becomes too much for the reader

Author’s Note: For some reason this prompt made me think of Nancy Mitford, mostly because she was known also for being a slightly mean-spirited teaser. Ah Childe, my beloved. Communication in a relationship is key y’all.

Childe

You knew that Childe was only joking. After all, didn’t he read his letters to you? Brimming with little asides and jokes.

“Dear Tonia, I would say I was happy to get your letter, if only it was sopping wet. Did you leave it out in the snow again? I swear, if you were in the illustrious Tsaritsa’s army, you’d probably end up attacking your own regiment, and then I’d be forced to execute you for treason!” No one could mistake such an opening for anything except a slightly barbed bit of teasing.

Nor were the younger one’s exempt. Teucer’s antics had resulted in quite a bit of teasing. “Teucer, I think the Mr. Cyclopses have better survival instincts” and “I didn’t take you for someone who spent other people’s money!” This latter statement was made after Teucer spied the hand-crafted, very expensive, fireworks that were sold in Liyue. Of course, Childe had bought him the fireworks, and of course he never begrudged doing things for you when he teased you either. Still, you somehow felt as if things were different when directed at you.

Not that they really were. It wasn’t so much that you were picking up a different tone, it was more that, unlike Childe’s siblings and other friends, such as Zhongli, who was subjected to endless old man jokes, you couldn’t seem to take them well. When he joked about how many times you ran into the countertop you began to wonder if you truly had something wrong with your hand-eye coordination; when he said you were the laziest person, he’d ever met you wondered if you weren’t sleeping in too late; when he teased that he had to be your personal babysitter you wondered if you were truly good enough to be an adventurer. It wasn’t Childe’s fault, it really wasn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Of course, you could tell him, could finally let it all out and stop pretending that it wasn’t painful to try and keep all your emotion sunder wraps. But you couldn’t help but feel as if that would in some ways disappoint him. He was a Harbinger, tough, aloof. No words could ever hurt Childe, of that, you were sure. So how would he take it, the knowledge that his part was all too liable to shatter at every poke and prod? You couldn’t blame him if he turned out to be ashamed.

So, you kept it to yourself, smiled through all the jabs and teases. It didn’t matter, it really didn’t. You were fine! Or if you, weren’t it wasn’t worth it trying to change anything. You didn’t want to lose Childe, didn’t want to see the change when he went to say something before stopping, looking at you’re with barely concealed disappointment. Childe lived with his emotions to the forefront after all. And you wouldn’t ask him to change something you ultimately loved about him.

Thus, the days continued on, as did the teasing and the feigned smiles. Some days it was worth it, some days you were left with nothing but happiness bubbling up inside, the love that humans reserved for a very few number of friends and lovers. Yet those days were often days with minimal teasing, and you couldn’t help but notice the layer of anxiety that pressed on your love the days that were filled with Childe’s jabs. Lying in bed, limbs tangled with his, you stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you should do. You felt trapped, by your emotions, by your pride, by Childe’s words. They were all encircling you, and you could do nothing to defend yourself. You tried to keep the tears to a minimum; after all your partner slept so little already.

You didn’t know when the subtle shift happened, when it all became too much to handle. Maybe it was after Childe’s recent trip to Snezhnaya, where, surrounded by Harbingers who saw their coworkers as enemies rather than allies, he had sharpened his wit even more so than before. If his earlier teasing was unfocused, general quips, then his current ones struck quite closer to home.

“Wow my dear I didn’t peg you for a Treasure Hoarder, I don’t think that arrow could hit anyone if it tried!”

“I think you truly have the makings of someone who gets scammed by a Mondstadtian duke, or perhaps a Fontaine prince who has lost all his mora in a flood. Remind me to never go shopping with you.”

“Honestly, I think if you ran into the Electro Archon, she’d think your vision was fake. It’d be an easy way out.”

The whiplash of Childe’s proclamations of “princess” mingled with sentences that, had they been geared at anyone else, would surely be insults was shocking, and you found yourself less and less able to keep these two aspects of your partner compatible in your mind. Even less did you find the ability to simply brush it off.

You didn’t know why it was a comment about your socks that finally caused you to break. Really, it was too juvenile.

Laundry in your shared apartment was often seen as a punishment, the chore that each of you pushed onto the other. As such there was often a pile of laundry in the laundry basket, and incredibly slim pickings in your drawers. That being the case you often found yourself wearing mismatched socks. Perhaps it was a little odd, or a little childish, but it was certainly preferrable to spending all day at the river scrubbing your hands red. Who cared anyways? No one would notice such a small thing, especially once you had put your boots on.

However, nothing could get past Childe’s wicked sense of humor, and apparently your clothing choices were prime fodder for him.

“Nice socks.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, already having a sense of where it was going. The smirk that played across your partner’s face was full of mischief, and usually that only led to one place.

“I think that you’ll be quite the icon among toddlers all throughout Liyue. People will be asking you if you’re lost all day, or maybe they’ll ask you how it feels like to be nine.”

It was really a silly comment to get so upset over, such a small, insignificant thing to cry over. Yet there you were, standing in the kitchen, frozen in horror as your vision became fuzzy with tears. Unsure about any other course of action you buried your face in your hands and prayed Childe wouldn’t think about what you were doing.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

You could hear the panic and concern mingling in Childe’s voice. Almost immediately a warm hand was on your shoulder, and you were suddenly flooded with the presence of the person you loved so much, the person you were now crying about. You could tell Childe was saying something, was whispering soft words of comfort, but in the moment your thoughts felt all too loud. Overwhelmed by the situation you turned into your partner’s shoulder and let yourself cry.

Eventually sensing you had lost all your tears Childe drew back slightly.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“Yes please,” you replied, voice still small. Nodding Childe moved towards the kitchen. Within a few moments he was back, glass in hand.

“Was it the teasing?” He asked as you drank. Whatever you had to say about your partner, he certainly wasn’t stupid.

“Yes,” you mumbled, nodding for affect.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had gone too far. I promise I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“But Childe, it, it’s not just this time.”

“What do you mean?” Childe asked, voice flooding through with concern once more.

“It’s, I’m sorry, it’s just that, it’s all the time. Not all the time, every time you tease me. It’s not your fault! Of course, it’s not, it’s my fault. I don’t know, I just, it really hurts sometimes, all the time? I don’t know. I just, I’m sorry.”

Childe’s expression was one of abject horror. Taking your hand, he rubbed small circles on the top with his thumb. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. I should have been more careful.”

“But I don’t want you to feel like you have to, I don’t know, I know you tease everyone, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You aren’t making me uncomfortable.” Childe’s voice seemed just as hurried as yours. “It makes me more uncomfortable to think that you’ve been burying this the whole time. You’re damn good at hiding things you know. But this isn’t a war or something, you don’t have to hide what you’re feeling, for whatever reason. Better if you tell me, y’know?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Doesn’t look good on you, or sound good. I’d rather hear you happy.” Childe leaned in to press a soft kiss against your forehead. “I love you, okay? You mean more to me than a little bit of teasing.”

“You don’t think I’m being weak?” You managed to make out as your anxiety lessened its grip on you.

“Weak? Girlie you’re one of the strongest people I know! Weak my ass. If you wanted to rule the world you could give me a run for my money. Of course, I’d win though. I mean, I would be there right with you.”

“I know you would,” you smiled, despite yourself.

You knew that Childe probably would still retain the odd sense of humor and levity he already had. Old habits die hard and all that. Still, you had managed to say what had been haunting you all this time and, more than that, you had been assured that you were good enough, strong enough. Those few words, no matter how short, meant the world to you.

#genshin impact #childe x reader #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact fanfiction #oneshot #requested #my writing

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inadaydream99 · 3 years

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The One Where You Can’t Be Kept Apart

A/N - Thank you 🥕anon for sending in this request and another brilliant idea! I really hope you enjoy what I have come up with ☺️ Also, I was unsure with how to end it, so it took me a little longer to write than usual 😂

Disclaimer: This is inspired by the Friends episode ‘The One With the Memorial Service’ and is in no way my own original idea. I have also used some direct quotes from the episode for the purpose of keeping some fidelity towards the plot.

You huff, folding your arms across your chest as Soobin begins to interrogate you. He’s only been at yours for a few minutes and you’re already tired of him. You get that he’s trying to look out for you and do as you asked of him; which he’s taking incredibly seriously. But is it really necessary for him to pay you a visit sporadically, just to see if he can catch you out?

It’s like he doesn’t trust you. Not that you blame him really, I mean you’ve just broken up with the love of your life, Yeonjun, and asked Soobin to make sure you don’t have any contact with him because you don’t trust yourself to keep away. But just because you have very little self control when it comes to Yeonjun, doesn’t mean that you need to be watched so often.

It’s been about two weeks since you and Yeonjun broke up after being happily together for just over a year. The reason being that you both realised you wanted different things for your future. Things that, even after much debate, neither of you were willing to compromise on.

It had always been your dream to fall in love with your soulmate and get married. Ever since you were little you’d indulge in your fantasy and act out these magical weddings with your friends. You, of course, always played the bride.

Now, Yeonjun has never been opposed to the idea of marriage. He just doesn’t see the point in having this big, expensive wedding. In his opinion it’s a waste of time and money. He would just be happy to elope.

And that’s the main issue that broke you up. You’d been so distraught over the idea of not having the wedding of your dreams, and Yeonjun stubborn in his views, that you’d come to the agreement that if you can’t agree on this then you’re not meant for each other.

From the second he received the news from you crying down the phone, Soobin had barely left your side. He’s been the most amazing friend to you and done everything he can to help you through this break up. And that’s exactly why you feel guilty for finding him annoying right now.

“I know you’re hiding something (Y/N).” Soobin mumbles, more so to himself than to you, but you hear him clearly none the less. “Who’s shoes are these?” He suddenly quizzes you, holding up a pair of dirty black trainers. Ok, so they aren’t the most fashionable shoes ever, but they are comfy and you have lost any motivation to put effort into your appearance right now. All you can seem to focus on is your heartbreak.

“They’re mine.” You deadpan, your sensitivity making it difficult to not be offended. And Soobin really should have known better because if he’d taken a second longer to look at the shoes he’d realise that they are too small to belong to Yeonjun.

“Oh, sorry.” He utters softly, placing the shoes neatly by the front door once again. You watch as he snoops his way around your apartment, in and out of rooms unsatisfied with his lack of finding anything.

That is, until a knock on your front door sounds. You casually make a stand from the sofa where you had previously been slouched, still sulking over Soobin’s insult over your shoes.

“Wait! I’ll get it.” Soobin calls out to you, hurrying past you. He practically pushes you away from the door; not that he intends to, he’s just oblivious to his actions in the moment.

“It’s just the takeout I ordered.” You sigh, throwing your hands up defensively.

Soobin shoots you a frown before turning the handle and swinging the door open.

“Oh my, what are the chances!” You pretend to be shocked, hands flying up to cover your mouth upon the disappointed look Soobin sends you when the door reveals Yeonjun. “7 billion people in the world and they send Yeonjun to deliver my food!” You continue, hoping that you sound believable enough. Though it’s unlikely with the way your best friend has been doubting you from the very second you asked him to help you keep away from Yeonjun.

Soobin simply rolls his eyes at your terrible acting, turning expectantly to look at Yeonjun for an explanation to his presence.

“I’m sorry, but when (Y/N) called I just couldn’t keep away.” His head hangs low, ashamed of his weakness for you… and for getting caught.

“How’d you even call him?” Soobin gawks at you, seriously confused as to how you found a way to contact Yeonjun without having access to a phone. Yes, Soobin had confiscated it first chance he got. But you have to admit that the time away from your phone has been quite nice.

“FaceTime on IPad.” You mumble sulkily, reluctantly admitting how you’d managed to go behind Soobin’s back. You’d hidden it from him so your parents could at least contact you if they needed… or so you’d convinced yourself.

“iPad, of course! I should have known.” Soobin shakes his head, scolding himself for not having realised sooner.

“Soobin, if (Y/N) and I want to see each other, then we should be allow-”

“This doesn’t concern you Yeonjun.” Soobin interjects Yeonjun’s justification. It’s not that he wants to be rude to Yeonjun, or that he doesn’t like him, it’s just that if he allows this then he’s failed at being a good, supportive friend to you.

“Oh really, maybe I was confused considering the mention of my name.” Yeonjun sasses back. “What I was saying was, why can’t we be friends?” Yeonjun, determined to finish what he wants to say, continues. You notice he doesn’t look at Soobin as he speaks, only you. And the pleading look he sends your way makes you melt.

“I guess there’s no harm in that.” You shrug, trying to not show your true emotions as you observe the wide smile that spreads out across Yeonjun’s face. You really had missed his smile so much.

“Well ok then. If you’re just hanging out as friends then I can join, cause I’m your friend and Yeonjun’s friend too.” Soobin announces and you stifle your laughter when you notice Yeonjun grimace at being called Soobin’s friend.

“I guess.” Yeonjun mumbles reluctantly as he is finally able to enter your apartment properly.

The three of you sit on the sofa, Soobin forcing himself in the small space between you. It’s awkward. No one knowing what to say first to break the silence.

“So how have you been?” Yeonjun is the first to speak, leaning around Soobin to see you.

“I’ve been good, thanks.” Soobin answers as you open your mouth to speak.

“And you?” Yeonjun chuckles now beginning to find Soobin amusing. His gaze is focused intently onto you, eager to finally talk properly with you after so long apart.

“I’ve been better.” You force a small smile.

When you’d initially contacted Yeonjun and invited him over, you’d been so desperate that you hadn’t given it any thought as to how you might feel when he’s actually here. It’s a lot more difficult to see him than you expected, and you know it’s just your overwhelming emotions talking, but you’re still in love with him.

Despite wanting nothing but to cave in and get back with Yeonjun, you remain strong and fight the urge. You don’t want the same things as each other. And the more you remind yourself of that, the more you are able to convince yourself that breaking up was the right thing for the both of you.

“I’ve missed you.” Yeonjun admits. You stare into his longing gaze, your heart racing as you see the sincerity pouring out of him.

“I’ve missed you too.” You whisper, not trusting your voice. You can feel your eyes well up as the words tumble from your lips without thought. Although, it’s true, you really have missed him with all your heart.

“You know, on my way over here I saw a pigeon throw up and then a rat ate it.” Soobin quickly jumps in and changes the moment as soon as he senses the mood getting too serious.

“I still think about you everyday. I mean it’s kinda hard not to when everything reminds me of you.” Yeonjun chooses to ignore Soobin’s obvious attempt at stopping your conversation.

You aren’t sure how to respond to him, so overwhelmed that you feel like the room is spinning.

“Ok, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” Soobin stands from the sofa. “But I’ll be quick so don’t try anything.” He warns, waving his pointed finger between the both of you before he leaves.

“Look, I’m not going to ask to get back together because I know we want different things.” Yeonjun takes the opportunity to finally say what he’s wanted to say the whole time. “But just to be with you one more night…”

“I want that too, but isn’t that gonna make it too hard?” You try to reason.

“It can’t be any harder than the last few weeks…” And yet, Yeonjun’s words seem to make more sense than you’d like.

“If I’d known the last time I saw you would be the last time, I would have stopped to memorise your face, the way you moved. Everything about you. If I had know the last time I kissed you would be the last time, I never would have stopped.” You’re left speechless by Yeonjun’s confession. Seemingly frozen in shock, your mind blank of all thoughts.

“Kiss him, you fool!” Soobin jolts you out of your daze as he rushes back in to the room.

“Huh?” You scrunch your brows in confusion at your friend. He’s done a complete 180 flip after hearing Yeonjun’s speech.

“Didn’t you hear him? If you don’t kiss him, I will.” You stare at him in shock. This has got to be some sort of test, right?

Except Soobin’s expression is completely serious. You cast several quick glances between Soobin and Yeonjun, observing how the latter sends you an almost pleading look, probably silently begging you to not let Soobin kiss him.

Soobin must be serious about telling you to kiss Yeonjun, because he’s willingly encouraging you. And that’s what finally makes you give in, instantly closing the space between you and Yeonjun, your lips moulding perfectly together in a passionate kiss.

You both pull apart breathless, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I knew you’d be here!” You jolt apart when the door swings open and slams against the wall.

“Who is this?” Soobin questions, confusion clouding his features.

“It’s my friend Beomgyu.” Yeonjun sighs. “I asked him to keep me away from you.” Yeonjun directs the last part towards you.

You simply giggle at him, half still elated from your kiss, the other in amusement.

“Hey, I’m doing that for (Y/N).” Soobin beams.

“Well you’re not doing a very good job. What’s with all the kissing!” Beomgyu sasses back.

You cast your gaze back to Yeonjun when Soobin and Beomgyu begin bickering back and forth, too invested in their arguing to pay attention to either of you.

“Want to get out of here?” You whisper to him, wide grin on your face when he nods and grabs your hand; both of you sneaking out without being noticed and quickly rushing away to make up for lost time.

“Hey, where’d they go?” Soobin suddenly notices you’re missing.

“Ugh, we blew it.” Beomgyu grumpily mutters, defeatedly throwing his hands in the air.

“I blame myself.” Soobin shakes his head in disappointment.

“I blame you too.” Soobin sends Beomgyu a glare in response.

#🥕 anon #txt requests #txt fluff #txt angst #txt oneshots #txt drabbles #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt yeonjun #txt choi yeonjun #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop x reader #kpop requests #kpop oneshots #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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darthmaulification · 3 years

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boba fett NSFW alphabet

A/N: boba fett is just... *chef’s kiss* 😍😍 i want to hug and smooch him on the lips and have him absolutely rail me 🥴🥴

this is for post-sarlacc/mandalorian boba fett as well, and does primarily assume fem/afab!reader.

nsfw under the cut!!😘

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

Boba’s positively soft after sex. He takes care of you so so well, especially after particularly rough rounds, and will make sure you’re safe, warm, and comfortable. This usually means he cleans you up, either by running you a bath or wiping you down with a damp cloth, and massaging away any aches you may have obtained. Boba is also uncharacteristically talkative while he tends to your needs, and it’s all praise like “You did so well, cyare” and “Such a good girl” alongside clarifying questions like “Do you feel sore anywhere?” and “Would you like me to run a bath?”. Boba makes sure you are completely taken care of.

B = body part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner? what about themselves?)

Boba doesn’t have a favorite part of your body, because he’s easily able to mark it all up and he’s never been one to pick favorites, but I suppose he’s like any other man and does enjoy your... feminine curves, so to speak. He particularly likes your hips, ass, and thighs, if not only that he’s able to spank them, nibble on them, grab onto them while he’s fucking you silly... it’s also because he loves watching them sway as you walk. There’s a certain perfect sashay mixed with a slight jerk in your gait that Boba loves to watch, how your thighs ripple slightly with each step, how your ass does the same, and how those perfect hips of your rock side to side... Yeah... there’s something perfect there.

If Boba had to chose a favorite part of his body and not say “The whole damn thing!”, he’d pick his arms and hands. They’re what he does everything with, how he handles his blasters and jet pack, how he handles fighting, how he handles you, etc etc. Boba’s hands and arms are where every skill of his is practiced and carried out, the limbs that can do anything. He finds a slight pride in that. Also, Boba knows you also enjoy his arms, so he finds it very amusing to flex for you every once in a while to get you blushing.

C = cum (basically anything to do with cum)

Boba Fett cums a lot, and he makes sure all of it ends up inside you. He finds it incredibly satisfying to dominate you in such a way, being able to paint your insides white, to claim you and your pussy as his. Boba also has a slight breeding kink, so he makes sure none of his cum goes to waste, sometimes pushing it back into you when it leaks out.

D = dirty secret (what’s their dirty secret?)

Boba will probably never tell you this explicitly, most likely you will pick up on it with every breadcrumb he leaves, but Boba loves you so fucking much. He has so so much love for you it makes his heart bleed with the intensity. He’s never loved someone with all his being before, never cared this hard in his life. Boba may not even be able admit it to himself, love is a word that has brought him so much pain. But he loves you, he loves you, he loves you... Cyare, mesh’la, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum...

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced. Boba has had many many sexual partners over his lifetime, so he knows exactly what he’s doing and his way around your body. Having the “tall, dark, and handsome” allure as a bounty hunter really helped him with this.

F = favorite position (what’s their favorite position?)

Boba has a couple positions he usually defaults to, all of which he enjoys. They are:

Leap frog. This is a close one for being his favorite position. Boba likes to keep you beneath him, for control, and when your flat on your chest, arms either trapped under your body or above your head, hips hitched up just enough to allow him access... well, that gives him all the control he could dream of. When you’re like this, Boba fucks the life out of you, draping over you to kiss your back and neck all while one hand is nestled around the front to toy with your clit. He also loves how desperate for more friction you get with this one.

Doggy style. He likes the control this position gives him, how he’s able to command you into it, set the pace, decide when you are allowed to come undone. Boba also likes being able to grab your hips and knead your ass as he rails you, leaving fingerprint bruises on your skin. He also likes spanking you and pulling at your hair. He also keeps a couple firm, large fingers against your clit, rolling that sensitive bud between them.

Missionary. Boba enjoys basic missionary because A) you’re smooshed under him, B) it gives him the ability to kiss you as he pounds into you, and C) he’s able to be versatile. He also likes how personal and intimate missionary is, being able to see your face and watch your facial expressions as you orgasm for him again and again. Boba also gives your breasts a lot of attention when he’s got this perfect access to them, kneading them and pinching and tweaking your nipples.

G = goofy (are they the more serious type, or more humorous?)

Boba is 100% about making sure that you are receiving the pleasure you deserve. He is giving you everything he’s got during sex, so there’s no room for being silly. The most “goofiness” that he partakes in is lots of teasing and dirty talk, which isn’t all that goofy to begin with, just as serious and commanding as he is.

H = hair (how well-groomed are they?)

Boba is a functionalist, so he’s pretty well groomed below the belt. Of course, of what he has left to groom. The Sarlacc pit’s acid wiped out pretty much all his body hair, including his happy trail and about a quarter of his tuft (Boba genuinely thanks the Maker every day his penis remained untouched), so there’s only a little bit to take care of.

I = intimacy ( how intimate are they during sex?)

Boba is intimate in a very domineering, overpowering way. He gets you so close to the edge so quickly, so torturously that there’s nothing but this overwhelming closeness that occurs, this performance of worship. His hands and mouth on your body, his voice in your ear, it’s like you become one, when he’s steady above you, your bodies interlocked, fingers laced in your hair, tugging gently. It will feel like Boba pushes you to the limit, that the intensity is like a thousands stars burning over you at once. Boba’s presence is like that.

J = jack off (do they masturbate?)

When he was a younger, more spry, more sexually unruly man? Yes. Everyday, probably. Now when he’s older, has more self-control, and you by his side? Not so much. Rarely ever, to be honest. the only times he finds himself with the itch to yank it would be if he’s been gone from you for a while or if it’s a mutual masturbation type of situation.

K = kinks (any kinks?)

Boba is such a fucking sexual deviant and kinky bastard it’s no wonder he decided to be a bounty hunter, because only a bounty hunter would act up the way Boba does. He has quite a few kinks, but here are the main ones:

Daddy kink. Boba is the physical manifestation of the “Your daughter calls me daddy too” meme. He derives such a smug pleasure from you calling him Daddy. He also likes it for the position of authority it is.

Dom/sub dynamic. Boba is a bonifide top/dom and nothing is changing that. He’s the one in charge, who makes the rules and breaks the rules, and he isn’t relinquishing that anytime soon. Boba thrives in that position of power, and loves having you a submissive, moaning mess beneath him. If you are naturally a quieter, maybe introverted person, Boba would go near rabid because that softness is just what he’s looking for. If you’re dominate like him, he sees that as a challenge... Prepare to be dominated.

Praise/degradation kink. He really just loves to hear himself talk, huh? This man is constant, non-stop dirty talk during sex and he’ll be saying downright delicious things to you. He’ll be giving you all the pet names in the book, “cyar’ika”, “pretty girl”, “mesh’la”, etc etc. Every time you react the way he wants to, or you pleasantly surprise him with your response to him, you’ll be rewarded with utmost praise. He’ll coo to you about how well you’re taking his cock, how perfect your body is, how good your wet pussy tastes... everything. Boba also likes balancing the good with the bad, so he may use a bit of degradation, usually in the form of backhanded compliments or ruder nicknames. However, if you don’t like degradation, he will simply avoid it, easy said and done.

Innocence kink/virgin kink. Woo hoo boy... Boba loves if you are or act all shy and bashful with him in the bedroom. It really goes hand in hand with his dominate role, you being a submissive, blushing mess while he’s all big and intimidating (not in a fear way). He likes being the one to corrupt you by marking your body all up with love bites and small bruises, making your tight pussy his as he rails you. If you tell him you’re a virgin the first time y’all have sex, Boba might go feral.

Breeding kink. Before meeting you, Boba didn’t really have this kink. His younger years were spent angry and vengeful and full of sex that was meaningless at the end of the day. But after the Sarlacc, and snagging the Palace from Bib Fortuna, and meeting you, Boba kinda starts getting an inkling of wanting a little something extra... or a little someone extra. He starts genuinely contemplating and liking the idea of having kids, and it partly manifests in his dirty talk where he’ll say stuff like “Gonna let me fill you up?” and “Got to keep your pussy full. Womb too”. Boba likes the idea of you mothering his children.

L = location (favorite place to “do the do”?)

Boba’s favorite place to positively ravish you is anywhere that he has full control over the safety of the room. So this usually applies to the bedroom, where Boba has set up so many security measures that no one is getting in, but also to more public places. When Boba was younger, he was much much more into exhibitionism and would’ve been down to fuck like... in front of a crowd, to be honest. But he’s older now (and wiser too) so he values the concepts of safety and security, much unlike his past self. So while Boba may still fuck you in an alley or in the throne room, he makes sure that literally no one is around. He does this less out of the potential embarrassment, but more so because he knows he has a huge target on his back.

M = motivation (what gets them turned on?)

If you start being a little tease, or show him a bit of sass and being overall more mouthy, his pants are definitely getting a bit tight around the crotch region. Boba loves it when and if you try to talk back to him or if you get all snarky.

On the opposite hand, Boba also loves it if you’re easily flustered, all pink-faced and bashful at something he says. He really finds a smidgen of shyness to be really, really enticing. It strokes his massive Dom Complex.

N = NO (what’s their turn offs?)

Boba has a few hard turn offs that he would never do, full stop. They’re age play/regression, consensual non-con/rape play, and extreme sadism. While he does have a daddy kink, it’s really only for the name and position of power, not the age factor (so he’s not into DDLG). And despite Boba being a big ol’ bastard, it’s never sat with him well to play the role of “rapist” during sex. Also, Boba likes a bit of punishment and being rough ‘n tough with you, but he has a limit of how far he’d go. He never wants to actually hurt hurt you. Even if you’re a full masochist and you asked him to do it, said it’s okay and everything, Boba would still never harm you and would probably get fully turned off.

O = oral (do they have a preference in giving/receiving?)

He doesn’t really have a preference, because he’ll go down on you and if you give him head, he’s all game, but fuck, does Boba like going down on you. He gets an immense amount of satisfaction from making you cum using only his mouth, having you completely undone and writhing just from his face between your legs. He also really loves your pussy??? Like it’s so perfect to him, the aroma, the taste, the slick, wet feel, the way it clenches and quivers around his tongue, etc etc??? Boba loves it.

P = pace & PDA (are they soft, sensual, rough, or feral? are they open to displaying the relationship?)

Boba fucks hard and rough and slow and with a purpose. He wants to give you (and himself, of course) as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. He paces himself very well, the master of self-control he is, and he will have you orgasming and edging for ages before he finally dicks you down. Boba finds great pleasure in having you cockdumb by the end of it.

Sometimes though, Boba gives you that same purpose in a slightly different way. he still fucks you good, but he’ll be a bit more sensual, a bit more gentle. Often, it’s because you ask to love make, but occasionally it’s because Boba really really wants you to know just how much you mean to him.

PDA is very very lowkey and subtle with Boba. This is mostly because he and you know that if your relationship, especially with how deep it is, were to become too much of common knowledge, someone is bound to use it against you, specifically to get back at Boba. So, Boba doesn’t often even have a hand on you in public, or show any outward affection. What he does do though, is stand close to you or have you close at his side. He keeps you in his line of sight always, and it’s become a sort of dance you to have. Boba and you orbit each other in a way, never growing too distant nor too close. Though, its perfect for you.

However, if someone starts making moves on you, Boba may physically step in, cutting whoever it is off from you. He’ll make sure they know that your off limits, untouchable. Usually, this also brings the gentlest yet firmest of hands to your lower back.

Q = quickies (what’s their opinion on quickies?)

Yes. Just yes. Boba loves quickies. He might be addicted to them. It’s a mix of he is always Ready To Fuck and he just finds you so damn desirable and beautiful. Though he will always prefer having you for a few hours opposed to a rushed ten minutes. But don’t think he does any less of a good job.

R = risks (are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

In his younger years, this would’ve been a hard, enthusiastic “yes”, but nowadays Boba won’t really actively experiment. If you have something you want to try, odds are he’ll go along with it, but he won’t ever bring up something new. He’s very content with his abilities, that are admittedly very very successful.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they last?)

Boba can last a long while, considering his age. He’s got years of experience and a whole lot of self-control under his belt, so he’s able to work you for at least a couple hours before he starts feeling it. He’ll having you cumming over and over again, working you with his mouth, hands, and cock. Boba also is very good at pacing and has this uncanny ability to restrain himself in a way that the pleasure for him doesn’t build up unless he allows it to. So don’t expect him to cum, even in light of your best efforts.

T = toys (do they own/use any toys?)

Again, used to when he was younger. But now he doesn’t because he knows he’s too damn good with his hands, mouth, and...y’know... to need any toys. Though, if you have any toys or you ask him to try one out, he’ll humor you and oblige. But he’ll tease you about it a ton, saying stuff like “Ah, but don’t you want my mouth instead?” or “I bet you’re missing my cock”. Boba will always make sure that you know he’s better than any toy that you’d introduce.

U = unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

Boba is such a smug shit. He teases so much and is so unfair that it borders on being cruel and he enjoys it, the fucking guy. If you’re into that, he’ll get you begging and in tears before he lets up and gives you what you want (read: need). But if you’re not into it, he has a base, “normal” level of tease, but he’d never take it too far. If he does push it too far, he’ll make it up to you however you want him to, because the last thing he wants is you too upset because of him.

V = volume (how loud or quiet are they during sex?)

Boba spends most his time during sex teasing the life out of you so he is vocal in that respect. He talks the talk, saying stuff like “You take my cock so well, little girl” and “Use your words, mesh’la, tell me what you want”. His constant dirty talk is sometimes broken up by growls from the back of his throat, heavy grunting and groaning, and the occasional low moan— all from the slick, hot heat that is you.

W = wildcard (what’s a random headcanon?)

Boba struggles with pain sometimes, the aches left behind from the wounds he received from the Sarlacc pit. It usually flares up if he’s stressed or been overworking himself, making his skin feel tight, like there’s a constant pull in all directions. He also gets pain from age and overuse of his joints. Often, it’s only his knees and ankles that act up, but sometimes he gets it in his back and wrists. And though he never says anything about it, and never asks you for anything, he really does appreciate it if you take the time to give him a massage or run him a warm bath, despite how grumpy he gets when you do.

X = x-ray & x-tra (what’s underneath those clothes? any more random headcanons?”)

Boba is built like a fucking tank, an absolute hunk of a man. From a life of training, bounty hunting, fighting, etc etc, Boba has a body type akin to a powerlifter, he never built muscle for show, only functionality. He’s all broad-shoulders, stocky, and thick muscles. Unlike the beauty standard, Boba doesn’t have the ever-desired six pack abs or pinched waist, he has a hefty barrel torso and a slight, squishy tummy. His arms and legs are equally, if not more, strong and muscled like the rest of him, and Boba is very easily able to lift you up whenever.

Now, of course, Boba is very heavily scarred. He has scars of varying sizes, shapes, and ages, some being that shiny white while others are still pinkish, all over his body from bounty hunting and getting into tiffs. The Sarlacc also completed ravaged his bronze skin, leaving this impressive and tight web of scar tissue near everywhere on his body, though it’s most heavily condensed on his left side.

NOW HIS PENIS. Boba has a Nice Cock on him, that’s for damn sure. He’s not exceedingly big, but he is girthy. And weighty. Boba’s penis is 6 inches (15.25 cm) in length and just under 2.5 inches (6.35 cm) in diameter. He is uncut, and a prominent vein runs on the bell end of his cock. His balls are also very impressive and are fairly heavy.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Astronomical. Boba suffers from Horny Derangement Syndrome™. You touch his shoulder as you pass by him? His cock is hard. You give him a kiss out of the blue “just because”? He’s dry humping against you. You give him a cheeky smile and flirt with him? His pants are off. Boba is in a constant state of Wanting To Fuck. But, of course, if your sex drive doesn’t match his or if you’re not in the mood, he literally will not care or hold it against you.

Z = zzzz (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

Boba does not fall asleep until you have. Period. Full stop. It’s a bit of a machismo thing of his (he sees himself as the “protector” in the relationship) but it’s also because he just genuinely likes watching you fall asleep. Boba likes when you get all sleepy and droopy, melting against him, feeling all your muscles relax as your body starts to slow down. It makes him feel strong, comfortable, and most of all, loved. You falling asleep next to him, the Boba Fett, is almost the biggest exercise of trust you can show him, and he loves it.

#star wars #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #star wars boba fett #post-sarlacc boba

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familyagrestefanblog · 3 years

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Ml Meta analysis: Adriens current absents, season 4 structure and theory on whats to come

Here I am back again with my endless rambling.

I'm just as worried for our cat son as everyone else (maybe even more) which is why I tried figuring out for my own sanity why he is so absent currently.

Upfront I wanna warn yall that I wrote this post in one rush this night and therefore had no time to do alot of editing. So things can probably get a bit more messy than usual but I tried to write it clearly, while writing 2 other ml essays as well. This is the one drawback of having so many episodes in such a short time, I have no time to write my posts x3 I had another theory planned for before Optigami airs but I don't think I can manage before tomorrow.

But let's not waste any more time. Grab a snack and here we go:

It's 2am right now but I think I just realized why Adrien/Chat Noir is being sidelined so much recently.

Sure, yes, it'll come into play in the very obviously set up Ladynoir drama later on but what I wanna talk about now is more the structure of how s4 is most likely written in terms of both Marinettes and Adriens side of the story. And then deep dive a little on why I think so.

You see season 4 is now reaping what has been built up from s1-s3, but this also includes that you have to take the time now to properly recreate the new possibilities out of the loose pieces of the broken status quo.

Seriously, season 4 has to handle and reinvent ALOT. The show got now officially announced to have 7 seasons, which is exactly the amount of seasons Astruc said they have story for. I couldnt find the official tweet from Thomas himself but I one from another source:

And now look take a look at the possible shows structure:

- s1-s3 was the first status quo and built up everything so now they can pay off after pay off while...

-... S4 is now the transitional season where the old status quo gets left behind as we work towards the new one.

-I have nothing to proof this of course, but in the same sense it would now make sense that s5-s7 where/are planned to play out under the final status quo. If I'm not wrong at first the show was under contract for 5 seasons, which would mean that after the transitional season 4 there was only 1 season of the final status quo for sure. Still, done right it could have been worth the wait. But this isn't where Miraculous will end. The show actually got the 7 seasons the creator wanted and THIS is how I think the long term plan makes the most sense. Nothing all too complicated but still hella effective in its execution.

But now back to our two main characters, because Marinettes and Adriens development are the two aspects that will raise the show to the intense heights of the s5-s7 status quo.

From s1-s3 Marinette was the active player but she was hardly involved with the actual PLOT of the show, since most of the plot and backstory of the show lies directly with the Agreste family. She only started to get her own plot when she literally created a new one by getting involved with the miraculous lore, because the closest Marinette got to the Agreste plot was "The collector".

Adrien in the other hand was always literally right in the middle of the plot but he wasn't enough of an active player to bring us further either.

Season 4 is now going to add the missing parts for both of them and as the very beginning of the season showed us: there are going to do it SEPERATLY.

This is why "Truth" and "Lies" have been structured the way they are (One Marinette-centric the other Adrien-centric). Yes, Marinette and Adrien are meant to end their story victoriously together, but they are simply not the people they have to be to become such a powerful team. Certain aspects of their journey they have to do... basically disconnected from the other one. The "Miracle Queen" endcard shows it quite nicely as well where they are heading now: away from each other.

Obviously the season started with Marinette growing into her new guardian status including everything miraculous related, since she is the main lead and because the new ways the episodes can now utilize everything Miraculous need to be established first before we deep dive into the messed up Agreste mystery.

So while I totally agree that it is annoying to get so little Adrien/Chat Noir content currently I also understand the practicality behind it. As I said, before s4 Marinette was the active main character who mostly didn't really have her own plot. So now adding her plot aspect and have her ACTIVELY figure everything needed out means that right now Marinette/Ladybug is the active focus main character who is solving a huge part of her s4 character arc. That simply drowns out Adrien as the currently still mostly-inactive secondary main character who, yes, may be right in the middle of the shows emotional + villain plot/lore/backstory, but that side of the story simply isn't in focus at the moment.

And I gotta say, I'm kinda glad they're doing it this way. Because I'm gonna be honest, when the season starts giving us Adrien/family Agreste episodes like "Lies" and "The collector" (in this case "Gabriel Agreste" for example) again, I don't want the narrative to be forced to spend time with something guardian lore based just because they didn't took their time to do it earlier.

So, as we see on the s4 episode raster "Gabriel Agreste" is episode 9. Honestly, I expect most of it (especially the ones near the beginning, so ep. 5 included) til that episode to be Marinette based the way everything else til now did (besides Lies obviously and Guilt trip didn't hardcore focus on Marinette/Ladybug either and that's because it's after "Gabriel Agreste") in the spirit of "Truth". It's just the needed set up from Marinettes side of the story and I can live with that.

Because we actually saw the change after "Gabriel Agreste" already in "Guilt trip".

I don't know why some people pretend like Chat almost cataclysming himself after hearing how guilt-eaten Nino is for Adriens sake isn't a huge indicator that the episodes afterwards will not only acknowledge but also DEAL with Adriens/Chats situation and problems. Remember, we are talking about CHAT NOIR here not Adrien Agreste. The show has always portrayed and acknowledged ADRIENS issues very straight forward and with the proper seriousness (especially when it comes to his family), whereas Chat Noir was often mostly used for comedic purposes with some exceptions of his problems being properly delt with (since Marinette/Ladybug was mostly oblivious to them, since Adrien keeps them hidden so well). But now in "Guilt trip" LADYBUG was confronted head-on with just how much negativity Chat has inside and how quickly and extremely he drowns in it.

Sure, correct, the episode also has his negativity "washed away" rather quickly by Ladybug opening up to him on how important he is to her

But this is in character for both of them as "Lies" very clearly showed us that the way BOTH OF THEM behave here is where the problem lies. There Ladybug was freaked out after Chat threw his life away once again but quickly accepted Chats very direct avoidance of the confrontation, since he seemed to be alright to her.

Something I also find noteworthy here is that Ladybugs dialog is "Seriously, you need to stop doing this to me!", which is.... a VERY Marinette-centric way of acknowledging the problem.

It completely shifts the issue away from Adriens extremely alarming self-harmful/suicidal tendencies and instead only calls out how it affects Marinette (whose feelings here are definitely valid, don't get me wrong!). It showcases perfectly how unaware Marinette still is of her partners inner tumult at that point and also parallels how Marinette called Adriens life "perfect" at the beginning of the episode (This is no shade towards Marinette, in general the entirety of "Lies" is about showing us just how harmful Adriens Chat Noir persona actually IS to him so these two moments of her being oblivious to Adriens and Chats immense problems very much fits into that episodes narrative and sets up what's about to come. I still have an entire essay in the making for "Lies" but, guys, it's just getting longer and longer. I suck xD).

So the fact that an episode after "Gabriel Agreste" brings this scenario back, just a little different but ALOT more revealing of Adriens immense problems to his partner, is VERY telling. Besides other things it tells us that this happens at the beginning of the arc that deals with (at least) Chats issues since Ladybug is still way too quickly too ready to accept her partner as "completely fine" again just because Chat makes it seem that way (while some negativity increasing guilt bubbles still to stick to him.).

And yet, others have already pointed it out that Ladybug IS noticing what Chat wanted to do and reacted accordingly...

she just didn't speak of it the way it is because it overwhelmed her, which calls back to Ladybugs "You have to stop doing this to me!" dialog.( For a great breakdown of her dialog HERE is a link to @flightfoot post)

In "Lies" Marinette was way too stressed by her new guardian role to even consider Chats side of it and therefore only spoke of her own, but in "Guilt trip" she's already past that stressful arc. So here she is immediately able to recognize Chats suicidal action for what it is, come to his (much needed) aid and lift her partners spirit the best she can by emotionally opening up to him (which is something we KNOW is incredibly hart for Marinette).

The difference between her reaction in "Lies" and in "Guilt trip" shows that Marinette has her guardian role already mostly handled and is now mentally able to be there for others again, so the extremely Marinette-centric "Truth"-like episodes are mostly passed. Now the episodes can bring Adrien/Chat Noir more into the game again and even shift to "Lies" - like episodes because MARINETTE can pay more attention to him again and isn't faced with something new, important and overwhelming Miraculous related every step she takes.

And THAT is extremely fair from a narrative standpoint.

---

I really need to stop elaborating so much on these posts because I'm only NOW actually getting to the point of where Adriens journey will disconnect for a while from Ladybugs. Sorry guys.

Okay, to understand where I'm going with this I will have to quickly explain how I always saw Chat Noirs place in the Ladybug+Chat Noir vs Hawkmoth war ever since s1.

Because here is the thing: Adrien wasn't able to truly leave the battle field ONCE since the origins. Marinette was completely out of Hawkmoths and Gabriels reach once she detransformed, which balances out her basically being the personification of the good sides force. And Gabriel literally decided whenever or not the battle is even ACTIVE right now! Besides that he is in complete control of his own actions and environment, which gives him all the necessary time, safety and downtime he needs to act as the personification of the evil sides force.

Marinette and Gabriel always knew when they were safe and off the battle field, but ADRIEN never had that and it left him LITERALLY right in the middle of both Ladybugs and Hawkmoths sides.

You see, because before Adrien became Chat Noir he basically was part of Hawkmoths side just by default. He was born into this family, that's his father and lost mother and everything he knows. Adrien didn't/doesn't even have to KNOW that he is part of Hawkmoths side, he's his son at some level he just IS! And I'm not saying this as anything negative, Adrien coming from Hawkmoths side is literally the reason why he became Chat Noir!

Because whereas Gabriel is having the time of his damn life as evil terrorist, created out of tragic and sinister circumstances, ADRIEN on the other hand couldn't handle his families environment and very same circumstances anymore and accepted the role as Paris' hero to escape his heritage for a while.

Keywords being: a WHILE.

Something unique about Adrien I always loved is the fact that he is the villains abused, isolated and overworked SON, who becomes a hero to escape his depressing life and YET it was never Adriens intention to LEAVE IT. Adrien merely wanted to use his time as Chat Noir to let of some steam and breath freely while doing some hero work so he can go back into his civilian life and try to one day successfully ment his broken family. He couldn't handle the current situation anymore but he still always saw worth in his family/father. I have SO MUCH respect for that!

But him not intending to leave his family and instead regaining strength as Chat Noir to continue to hold onto it came with the downside of him not being able to fully become part of the good sides people/force either. Hence why Adriens/Chats place always felt so lost in comparison to Ladybugs and Hawkmoths clear positions. He's caught in between their extremes trying to balance out BOTH at the same time. What an impossible task!

So he couldn't put in the same focus as Ladybug into being the good sides force because he is literally burned out from his civilian life on Hawkmoths evil side. But he also couldn't be involved as an ACTIVE member of his fathers evil force, because he chose to find refuge in his friends and as a hero on Ladybugs side.

Adrien unknowingly is part of BOTH the shows two extreme moral sides of good and evil and this season we will see Adrien/Chat Noir grow into his own within BOTH sides as well.

Because he simply couldn't have done so right away in s1. Now after 3 seasons Chat Noir is more than solidly established as one of Paris Heros and his time with Ladybug, the other heros and his normal friends helped him greatly to find his place on the good side. "Lies" set this up as Chat Noirs arcs starting point that now he has to stop connecting "being heroic" strictly with following Ladybug (as Marinette is the STAND IN personification for the good side, she's still a flawed human being like everyone else and not the ultimate force of perfect and good. Big difference.) just as he has to start looking past his fathers sympathetic moments/qualities to see that Hawkmoth isn't a 100%, inhumane monster just because he is the stand-in personification of evil in their fight, but the man he calls Father and still needs to be taken down. (I talked about this in more detail on THIS post)

Adrien has to seperat himself from Ladybugs path and focus on his family and I believe it'll start with the much dreaded (but expected) Ladynoir fight.

Funnily enough, what I'm talking about was actually already set up in "Frozer" I just didn't remember that for a bit. In "Frozer" we saw Ladynoir having a fight which caused Chat Noir to go his own way in the episodes battle.

I always found it interesting that the episode didn't had Chats decision, to not follow Ladybugs lead here, turn out to be a huge mistake. Almost every other show would have done so but now I think I understand. This episode and s2 in general SET UP the s4 conflict, s3 LEAD UP to it and now s4 DELIVERS it.

So what happened in "Frozer" is a direct parallel to what about to go down:

Ladynoirs fight will cause Chat Noir to not simply follow Ladybugs side anymore the way he used to, but note, he DOESN'T leave the good side AND they make up again in the end after Chat saves Ladybug from the akuma. He just does things on his own because he isn't on great terms with her for a while. "Frozer" showed Chats decision to not only NOT be a mistake but also a necessary part of defeating the akuma, just the way it'll be in s4. Damn, Adrien breaking away from Ladybugs side, the way she (unintentionally tho) did at the beginning of the season, to focus more on himself and his family will be the game changing factor, when Adrien will have his completing arc where he goes from "not active character within the villain/backstory plot" to "ACTIVE character within the villain/backstory plot".

And we already saw with Marinette how many fast breakthroughs we get through these completing arcs. Which is also a reason for why Adriens/ Chats arc comes later in the season, because BUDDY. Once Adrien starts to actively uncover his families mystery and fathers secrets Gabriel is SCREWED! Adrien will gain the needed inside knowledge that complements Marinettes Miraculous power; and reunited they can take on whatever the hell kind of scale the Agrestes plan actually is.

So how to end this post? My biggest intention was to raise hope for everybody (myself included lol) who is right now very concerned and upset about how side-lined our boy is at the moment. But I prefer doing so in a way that actually works with canons context instead of sugarcoating what I don't like. And Adriens/Chats current position I definitely do NOT like but accepting it as realistic outcome from s1-s3 and set up for the escalation for both Ladynoir and his home situation gives it the proper purpose and pay off (narrative and character wise) that it SHOULD have.

Basically, the endcards of "Truth" and "Lies" show it perfectly.

It looks like ShadowMoth is turning a blind eye towards Adrien/Chat Noir because of Ladybugs new guardian status and "greater importance". But Gabriels tunnel vision on Ladybug will leave him vulnerable to his own sons secret actions against him and Gabriel won't see it coming until its already too late.

#Miraculous #Miraculous ladybug #ml theory #ml analysis #ml season 4 #ml show structure #Adrien Agreste #marinette dupain chang #Gabriel Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Hawkmoth #ml forshadowing

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mageofseven · 4 years

Text

Part 3 with Beel and Belphie is ready!

Part 1 | Part 2

Beelzebub:

The big guy noticed the changes with his girlfriend before she even mentioned them; the sixth brother is pretty observant with those he cares about after all.

Whenever he discussed how worried he was about her, about her lethargy and dizzy spells, the woman would just smile and say she was fine, that it was just her body being off and human bodies are just weird like this at times.

Beel didn't know much about the human body so he chose to believe his Muffin on this, even if he was still worried.

As the months went on, MC started to gain weight. The demon noticed this, but it really didn't faze him at first; he didn't mind it if his girlfriend was a bit rounder in her torso.

What he did mind however was how self-conscious his girlfriend got about it. She had been eating a lot more recently and she couldn't really fight it, but she also hated every pound gained from it all.

Beel always told her how beautiful she was and how her weight never changed that to him.

However, she'd glance down at how her belly poked out now and looked to her boyfriend, who was so incredibly strong and was practically the living definition of fitness and was so good looking... and she couldn't help but fall even deeper into the slow burning feeling of loathing with of her own body.

One day, MC asked if she could go to the gym with him. The Avatar of Gluttony was immediately tense because she still wasn't feeling well, but he knew it would probably make her feel a bit better if she was exercising and actively working on what was bothering her

So he agreed, but the man couldn't bring himself to do his usual workout routine with her there. The big guy was just too worried about his Muffin.

At one point, the man just noticed that something seemed off about his Human.

He set down the weights and walked over to the treadmill she was on-- and got there just in time to catch her as she fainted.

Luckily, the woman woke up fairly quickly, but her boyfriend had enough; no more exercise for her, not until she got her dizziness under control.

For the next few days, the MC was extra depressed and just found herself in bed more, usually snuggled up with either Beel or Belphie.

It was one such day when the cramping started.

She had gotten to lay with Beel for awhile, but eventually he had to leave for the game with his teammates.

Usually, MC would go and watch him play, but since her cramps were so bad, she didn't really have this option.

She was cuddled up in bed with Belphie when the redhead gave her a kiss goodbye and told her and his twin that he'd come straight home, receiving a nod from his Muffin and a thumbs up from his twin.

The pain just got worse while he was gone though and things evolved to MC gripping onto the Avatar of Sloth and heavily sobbing into his chest.

The seventh brother couldn't move and get help; everytime he tried, the human would beg between sobs for him not to leave her. He couldn't call for help either because he realized that he left his phone up in the planetarium.

Belphie was stuck with the sobbing human for over three hours until Beel came home.

Eventually, MC could feel something lowering within her and the need to push was unbearable.

"B-Belphie, help me up!"

The man did as he was told and helped her off the bed.

Beely came into the room just in time to see his girlfriend squatting and pushing out the head while his twin held onto her to help keep her balanced.

Eyes wide, the demon ran to girlfriend. His brain wasn't fully registering what the heck was happening, but his immediate reaction was still to rush to her side and help her.

MC immediately grabbed onto her boyfriend.

"B-Beely--uhhh... i-it's coming out."

Still deeply confused and concerned, the man's gaze dropped down between her legs, now letting himself focus on the head between them.

MC... his Muffin was having his baby!

Okay action then thoughts. Right now, the man just had to be there for her.

"Belphie, go tell Lucifer. We need a doctor."

The man was really trying to keep calm for his Muffin.

Without really pausing to answer, his twin rushed out the door.

"It's okay, Muffin, I'm here."

The redhead held onto his girlfriend and encouraged her as she pushed.

When the baby was finally pushed out enough to be freed from it's mom, Beel already had his hands around it so it didn't fall to the floor.

The demon forgot to breathe for a minute as he stared down at his daughter. His daughter.

Smiling, Beel lifted his gaze back to his girlfriend, but found that the woman was still crying in pain.

"Muffin?"

"I-It still--ughhhh, I think there's another."

The man's eyes widen.

Beel noticed his girlfriend's legs shaking and knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself up.

He adjusted his hold on his little girl before guiding MC onto the bed to lay down. He stayed between her legs and continued to give her encouraging words.

Since their sister already stretched the way open for them, the second baby was crowning in very little time.

A few minutes later, MC birthed the second baby, another girl. Both girls had his wings, horns, even his hair and eye color.

The man held both girls in his arms, already overwhelmed with his love for them, before looking up at MC, who was regaining her breath.

Beel sat down next to her and kissed her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

His girlfriend nodded, gaze falling to their girls.

"Beely... we're parents now?"

Beel smiled and nodded.

"I..." The woman sighed. "How did this even happen?"

"I dunno... are you okay with this, Muffin?"

"...Are you?"

His smile grew.

"Yeah."

She gave her boyfriend a small smile.

"Then... I am too."

Beel leaned down and kissed her.

"Good. I love you... I love our girls." The demon smiled down at the twins in his arms before meeting MC's eyes again. "This is... a dream. All at once, I got everything I wanted in life. I'll make sure to give you and the girls everything I can."

The doctor finally came a few minutes later, obviously late. Still, he checked MC and the girls to make sure they were okay and before he even left, the rest of House of Lamentation knew that the two were now parents.

Belphegor:

It took Belphie a bit longer than his twin to realize something was wrong with MC.

Sleepy boy... well, has a sleepy mind.

Not to say that it took him long though; while Beel noticed the human feeling off in his scenario on the first day, it took his twin about three days.

Honestly, he wasn't really worried about how tired they got. Hell, that just meant more naps they could take together so the Avatar of Sloth was winning in that regard.

He didn't really care about the weight gain either. Yeah, he teased her about it a bit, but it was always followed by wrapping his arms around her waist and if his words actually hurt her, which sometimes they did, he'd sleepily kiss their neck, their cheek, their lips

"It was a joke, Butthead." He'd tell them. "If anything, you're even cuter with a belly."

And the boy thrived off the blush that came after.

What the boy didn't enjoy, however, was her dizzy spells. The woman would go pale and suddenly have to grab onto him. Sometimes, MC would even full on faint and he'd have to quickly catch her before she hit the ground.

The first time that happened, the two were on their way to lunch at RAD and suddenly his girlfriend stopped walking. He turned around to ask why she stopped just for the woman to fall forward and for him to have to scramble to catch her.

Luckily, the woman was only out for a minute and was confused when she woke up in her boyfriend's arms, laying on the hallway floor at RAD.

Belphie took her straight home after that, not even giving the human the option to stick around and finish the school day.

The demon didn't understand what was wrong with his Human and whenever he'd ask MC, the woman didn't seem too concerned. Lightly, yes, but she said it'd probably correct itself and human bodies are just weird for the sake of being weird sometimes.

The seventh brother wasn't sure that he believed it, but he also didn't have any other answer so he just chose to leave it at that.

Basically, it was months of Sleepy Boy pretending he didn't care, but secretly hovering over his girlfriend.

After nine months of this hovering, it finally ended.

The two were upstairs in the attic, napping.

MC had been having cramps all day and Belphie suggested just sleeping through them, saying that eventually they will just go away.

Technically, he was right, just not in a way he expected.

He woke up to MC heavily sobbing his name. The man jolted awake and found his girlfriend gripping his shirt and burying her face in his chest.

"What's wrong--"

That's when he noticed the bed was... wet? Why was it wet?

"B-Belphie, somethings--gaaahh." The woman was panting through the pain.

The demon threw the blanket off of her and saw that the bed was soaked, as was her leggings, but there was also a slight bulge.

He pulled them down and saw that she was crowning.

His eyes went wide. She's pregnant? How the hell is she pregnant?

He looked back up at MC, who was still crying from the contractions, and knew he had to handle this before anything else.

He got up from the bed and positioned himself between her legs.

"You gotta push." He told her. "It's not gonna end if you don't push, Butthead."

His voice was firm, but tinged with some sympathy.

The woman was in too much pain to argue.

It took twenty minutes, but the MC managed to push the baby out half way, only to be pulled out completely by her boyfriend.

The demon stared down at the baby, a boy with his tail, eyes, and hair, and didn't know how to feel. He had gotten so focused on helping MC that his emotions felt lightyears away.

The human cried out and his head snapped up to look see her still writhing in pain.

Was there another one? The man quickly found out that there was.

And so it all repeated.

Once the second one was born, a little girl with his horns and eyes, but MC's hair, Belphie stared down at the twins on the bed, crying at the top of their lungs.

The man was already so tired of hearing cries.

"B-Belphie..."

He looked up at MC, who had a panicked expression on her face.

Leaving the twins laying between her legs, the Avatar of Sloth went back to his side of the bed and pulled her into his arms.

Neither said a word for a while. The only sound in the room were their twins' cries.

"I didn't know..." MC mumbled.

Belphie pulled back to meet her eyes, just staring into them for a full minute.

"Promise me. Promise that it's true and you didn't know."

"I promise. I swear on everything I have with you that I had no idea."

He sighed.

"Okay." He leaned in and kissed her.

After a moment or two, he pulled away and looked down at the crying babies on the bed.

"So... what do you wanna do with them?"

"I..." The woman stared down at her babies. "C-Can you bring them to me?"

Her boyfriend nodded and scooped up the babies one at a time to bring into her arms.

The woman brought them to her chest, causing them to finally stop crying in favor of feeding from her.

Belphie watched this quietly, not really sure what else to do.

After about a minute or two, MC spoke up.

"Belphie... would you be mad at me... if I said I wanted to keep them?"

The woman knew her boyfriend wasn't a fan of kids, a topic they always clashed with a bit. MC didn't think she could survive losing her twins in anyway now that they're here, but she worried about what Belphie would think of this.

The man pursed his lips. He honestly never wanted kids before, never liked them. Still though... he felt odd. Different.

Maybe it was seeing MC hold his children so sweetly in this moment, but he wasn't as against this as he always imagined himself to be.

Was he at the beginning of developing paternal feelings or was he simply not strong enough to take away something that his girlfriend obviously wanted so much? The demon wasn't sure.

"No. I'm not mad." He shook his head. "I... damn, I don't understand how this is happening but... if you want this then I'm here for the long haul. I'll take care of them; I'll take care of you. We'll do this together."

Part 1 | Part 2

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me pregnant mc

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jonsa101 · 3 years

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New Amsterdam Season 3x7: The Groundwork to Heal and Rebuild

Last night’s episode truly blew me away. It’s definitely one of the best episodes in the series. To be honest, I was incredibly anxious about how the show would handle systemic racism in the healthcare system but I think the writers did a beautiful job. I love how they have redirected Max’s story. It truly is a great character shift. Max has gone from the “how can I help” guy who tries to solve everything and usually always succeeds at it, to the guy who fails miserably and in frustration even throws in the towel. It’s so refreshing because the Max we had before this shift was unrealistic. This season is so good because this season feels real and authentic and Max though idealistic, is finally getting a big dose of reality in how he operates. I don’t think the show is ever going to give us season 1 or 2 Max again and that’s a good thing! That means our male lead is finally growing and evolving. It’s character development baby and we love to see it! I also love where the storyline is going for Helen. I have always had a head canon that Helen has some wild baby sister that would pop into her life to live with her and Helen would look out for her and take her under her wing. The story line with Meena is way better than my head canon and kinda falls in line with what I’ve always imagined. I’m so happy that Helen has a niece and that she’s moving in with her! This is literally the PERFECT ROLE for Helen. There’s nothing better than having a character who struggles with being vulnerable than literally having an unexpected character show up to shake things up and unroot the vulnerabilities/traumas said character has yet to deal with.

A lot of people couldn’t understand why Helen gave up her relationship with Cassian because of her niece but I completely understand where she’s coming from. Helen is completely out of her depth here. She wanted a baby and had know plans to take in her brother’s child let alone a teenager. This is completely new territory for her and the stress of having to juggle this new role, a new relationship and her already hectic job at New Amsterdam was probably overwhelming. Like most people who have a type A personality, she is doing what she feels like she has to do to get ready. Meena moving in with Helen is purposeful on so many levels and there are three things I’m expecting to see on screen because of it.

First, we are going to see so much more of Helen on a personal level. I fully expect to see Helen’s home life way more frequently as we see her step into this aunt/mother role and raise a teenager. This is not going to be a walk in the park. Helen is going to STRUGGLE. Meena will more than likely push Helen’s buttons to know end and and bring out all the vulnerabilities that she tries so hard to keep down. It will be probably be a bit ugly at first but as Helen and Meena start to bond and find common ground, Helen will FLOURISH. We will see her at her best as she thrives in this aunt/mother role. Second, Meena is absolutely going to peep the feelings that Max and Helen have for each other and she’s going to let her opinions be known. For the most part, teenagers know how to read the room and I’m pretty sure Meena will be know different. As Helen and Meena grow closer and as she possibly interacts with Max as well, I’m pretty confident Meena will say something and play a small part in pushing Max and Helen together. Of course this is just a prediction but usually a third character calls out the obvious “Unresolved Sexual Tension” between love interests and my money is on Meena! Third, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Helen stepped down from deputy medical director to step into this aunt/mother role as Max tries to be a single father to Luna while also trying to fill a mother void in Luna’s life. When we were heading into the season finale and going into season 2, I wrote a meta detailing my thoughts about how I felt about Helen deciding to be Max’s doctor again. I didn’t necessarily agree with the decision because I believed that Helen needed to remain true to the emotional and professional boundaries she was trying to set for herself. I also believed that because it was indicated Max and Helen had feelings for each other, her role needed to shift going forward in their relationship. It took two seasons but Helen’s role has finally shifted! 🙌🏾 She is no longer Max’s doctor or deputy medical director and for once Max no longer has the crutch/excuse of trying to navigate how he feels about her through that lense!!! THIS IS HUGE!!!

Max now has to truly sit there with his feelings and feel the absence of not going to Helen for everything because of the necessity of the roles she once had in his life. He will quickly come to terms with the fact that not only is he in love with her but he’s truly wants and needs her as his LIFE PARTNER! On top of that, Ryan has literally been teasing that Max is looking for not only a partner but a mother/mother role for Luna and he’s trying to figure that out fast (I will literally link the article). Max already knows Helen’s desire to be a mom but he will literally get the chance to see Helen step into that role with Meena! This isn’t by accident and it’s all purposeful. I’ve said this a hundred times and I’ll say it again, the showrunners are setting the groundwork for them to get together this season. Something has shifted. There’s a deep longing and desperation behind Max and I genuinely believe that he is consumed with his feelings for her. Through a bathroom door he was trying to convince Helen to be co-medical director to help battle systemic racism but while he’s trying to convince her, through subtext, he is essentially asking her to be his partner in life! I saw someone mention on Twitter that it was basically a proposal in a joking manner but honestly, that’s exactly what it was. It was a subtext laced proposal! His feelings are so all consuming that he can’t truly stay on the topic at hand!!! I think Max is on the verge of the floodgates bursting wide open and he is going to lay everything out on the table. Also, seeing Max’s behavior last night oddly reminds me a bit of Mr. Darcy in the Pride and Prejudice. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Darcy and Max don’t have the same mannerisms but the depth of the feelings they have for their love interests and how it manifests feels the same. I’ll get into this more at the conclusion of this meta.

Anyway, when I look at the season in it’s entirety so far, I see the show setting up two people that both have to develop and heal in specific areas so that they can eventually come together by the end of the season. Helen is struggling with vulnerability, feeling like she’s running out of a time with the desires she truly wants in life and now in the most unexpected way is being thrust into aunt/motherhood. Max’s idealism has been completely rocked by the pandemic and now more than ever he’s forced to be more self aware of his actions and needs to evolve from the chronic hero syndrome. He’s also essentially stepping into fatherhood again as he tries to learn and navigate being a single dad and making Luna his first priority. I think for a time Max and Helen will need to face their issues head on by themselves but as they go through their own healing journeys, they’re going to need each other. Also, they’re DEEPLY IN LOVE so even though it seems like they’re drifting a part it’s only going to be temporarily. Eventually, they’ll start “burdening” each other again.

Another important point that I want to bring up is this. In the last meta that I wrote, I mentioned how I believed that Max needs to go above and beyond to try meet Helen’s needs and support her and I genuinely believe that we will see that throughout this season. In last night’s episode, after he poured his heart out and told her that he’s grateful that she’s there with him, Helen resigned as deputy medical director. The old Max would have put up a fight and put his needs before hers because he wants her there with him but despite it being painful, he accepted her resignation. That’s growth! Taking Helen out of the equation as his number two at the hospital is going to make him so much more aware of her needs in her personal life rather than the needs of the hospital. They’re relationship has always been so intertwined with their work at New Amsterdam that Max hasn’t learned to truly prioritize Helen outside of that but this season he’s definitely going to. The absence of Helen in his literal everyday work life with the combination of his overwhelming feelings will eventually lead to a wild pursuit. A pursuit to know her heart, her wants, her needs and most importantly a pursuit to be with her.

My last point is this! I’ve made some pretty bold predictions this season about where I see Max and Helen going. Again, I think something MASSIVE is on the horizon and I honestly still think that by the end of this season Max and Helen might very well be engaged!! I don’t know Fam they’re just giving me this vibe especially Max! Last night solidified to me that he is getting to a place where his feelings are beginning to overwhelm him. This brings me back to Mr. Darcy. I believe Mr. Darcy and Max are at the same emotional level when it comes to how they feel about their significant others. When it was to much to bare for Mr. Darcy not only did he declare his love for Elizabeth but he proposed. He literally went from 0-100. Though Elizabeth rejected his first proposal, he proposed again and the second time around they had both done the work that they needed to in order to understand each other better and realize that they loved each other. I can’t help but think of Darcy saying

“You have bewitched me body and soul and I love I love I love you. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.”

Is it just me or is Max acting a little bit like Helen has bewitched him body and soul? He’s all over the place when it comes to her lately and his body language has changed too! Did anyone else peep how closely Max and Helen were sitting next to each other? It was so intimate for a second I thought they were going to kiss or he was going to grab her hands. I don’t know it just screamed desire to me. Also, this ongoing theme were he tells her that he “can’t do this without her” or he’s grateful that “she’s here with him” to me is in the same light of Darcy telling Elizabeth that he never wants to be parted from her. From season two onwards Max has openly expressed wanting/needing Helen by his side. Now that we are in season 3, it seems like Max need for this has only gotten deeper. I make this comparison to say that the underlying vibe of how we are seeing Max and Helen unfold this season to me points to something incredibly tangible happening between them at season end.

The thing about Max and Helen is that yes, they are a slow burn but at the same time they’re also a 0-100 type of couple. I want to write another meta to explain this in detail but what I’ll say here is that if circumstances were different in season 1 and Max wasn’t married, Max and Helen would have probably been the type of couple who got married within a couple of months of knowing each other. Also, from my perspective, once Max and Helen finally let each other know how they really feel, it’s not going to be a thing where they’re just dating like with Cassian or Panthaki. It’s going to be like it’s a wrap, I’m all in, you are my person, this is it for me type thing. It’s going to be commitment! I feel like people forget but this show started in 2018. In September it will be four years since the show premiered. Granted COVID happened in 2020, but essentially Max and Helen have been doing this tango for awhile now. The expectation should be that we are finally going to see things come into fruition in a major way this season because that’s 1000% what I believe. Everything in my gut is telling me that the time is now and they are setting them up to do groundwork to heal so that they can rebuild together. A new chapter for them is on the horizon and I’m so excited about it!

#sharpwin #new amsterdam #max goodwin #helen sharpe #max x helen #sharpwin meta #new amsterdam meta

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

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Much Ado About Nothing (2/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Warnings: enemies to lovers, feelings talk

A/N: second part!

MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST

Steve and Sam occupy the common room one early morning after a workout. They converse casually among themselves, Sam with a book in his hand and Steve with a newspaper in his. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam sees Bucky slip into the kitchen a few yards away.

Sam clears his throat casually to get Steve’s attention. He glances at Sam, watching as Sam flicks his eyes to the kitchen behind Steve, and Steve gives an understanding nod in return.

“So, Sam, what was it that you told me last night?” Steve says at a low volume, knowing that Bucky’s ears will pick it up from that distance.

“You told me that our very own Geeky is hot for Bucky?” Steve throws out.

Bucky’s entire body freezes at the sound of that. There’s no fucking way on God’s green earth that I heard that right.

“Yup,” Sam confirms, popping the ‘p’, “I never thought that woman would fall in love with any man, let alone Tin Man himself.”

Am I awake right now? Am I alive right now? There’s no way I’m hearing what I’m hearing. Me… and Geeky? And love? All in the same sentence as each other?

“I’m glad, though. I’m glad that she’s fallen in love with a guy as good as Buck.” Steve says, enjoying this knowing that Bucky’s probably on the verge of having a heart attack in the kitchen behind him.

“Well… Maybe she’s just pretending.” Sam argues.

“Could be.”

“But… Man, the way she spoke about Bucky, there’s no way anyone is that good at pretending.” Sam explains.

“Well, what is it that she says?” Steve allows Sam to fish the bait.

“Well, she always tells me that she feels confused about it all. You, know, falling in love with someone she thought to hate this whole time.” Sam begins before his brilliant idea strikes him.

“She says she starts these letters, confessing everything, before tearing them up and starting over. She’ll spend hours on ‘em.” Sam tells him, and Steve struggles to hold back any kind of smile or show of amusement.

Fucking love letters? Is he on another planet or something? Alternate universe? Geeky… His Geeky… Well, not his Geeky, but, his Geeky! In love with him! He’d think this was all a prank of some kind if it were just Sam or Tony, but Steve’s too shit of a liar to pull this off. He puts down the fruit containers he was going to use to make a smoothie, appetite now gone as he concentrates on listening to their conversation.

“She says that she knows he’ll make fun of her for it. And she cries and cries and cries, because she’s done the one thing she always swore she’ll never do - fall in love with a man.” Sam finishes. There’s no way the fish didn’t take that bait.

“And Bucky doesn’t know anything?” Steve emphasizes.

“Not a thing. She refuses to tell him and says she never will.”

“Well, someone should.”

“And what would that do? Knowing that buzzkill, he would make fun of her for it. He’d turn it into a joke and she’d never live it down.”

“Even I’d give him a talkin’ to if he did that.”

“And you’d be right for doing so. I mean, Geeky’s a pretty amazing woman. She’s beautiful, she’s funny,” Sam lists.

“And there’s no doubt she’s virtuous,” Steve adds.

“And she’s incredibly smart,” Sam continues.

“Except for the fact that she likes Bucky.” Steve jokes.

“That’s what I’m saying! Shit, if it were me, I’d marry that girl in a heartbeat.”

“I think I might mention it to Bucky, see what he has to say.” Steve suggests.

“I think she’d die; I mean, she’ll die before he finds out, she’ll die if he doesn’t love her back, and she’ll die if he does and she has to hold back one of her usual insults when he goes to woo her.” Sam explains.

A pause from Steve, “Yeah, you’re right. I should just let it be. She’ll get it over it sooner or later.”

It relieves Bucky that Steve mentioned that last part. All of this is a bit overwhelming; he’s been thinking back on just about every conversation he’s ever had with her now. Were her insults just flirting in disguise? Was he ever too mean to her? Has he been hiding his own feelings underneath these insults because he’s scared? Is she scared too? His mind is going a mile a minute, and only speeds up when Steve adds,

“Or her heart will break. Whichever comes first.”

Great, you punk.

“By the way, I’ve meaning to bring you up to speed on this mission coming up in a month or so, want to go to the conference room to talk about it?” Steve changes the subject, allowing an exit for the two of them.

“We should get Miss Geeky to tell Bucky to meet us there, too.” Sam whispers.

“If he doesn’t at least think about her differently after all that, I’ll never trust our intuitions again.” Steve whispers quietly back to Sam as they walk out of the common area.

Bucky hears them leave but doesn’t make to move from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter.

He’s always been afraid of relationships and commitment in general; a lot has changed socially since the way he was brought up and was taught about love. A lot has changed for him in general, too. He wouldn’t know where to start when it comes to a new relationship. And he knows you’re in a similar predicament.

You’ve never spoken about it, perhaps only to Nat or Sharon, but you’ve had some pretty horrible boyfriends in the past, some that have left some pretty nasty scars on your heart causing you to be the way you are now. Snarky, closed off to men, and overall very quick to shut a guy down.

Nothing of what Steve and Sam said was a lie, either. You are beautiful, very beautiful, actually. He’s always known that; he’s known that since he’s met you. But he supposes it never got in the way of your constant arguing - he can think you're pretty and make fun of you at the same time. And you are nice, maybe not to him, but you’ve shown your loyalty to not only the Avengers, but to the people who have now become your family. He can confidently say that you would do anything for your family. And, as much, as he’d hate to admit it, you’re very smart. Probably the smartest person he’s ever come across, besides maybe Shuri or Banner.

You’re an expert in anything that has to do with technology and hacking, having created the new software used by not only the Avengers, but countless other government agencies. You’ve caught countless things from international terrorists to hidden HYDRA bases to missing people, and more. You’re damn good at your job along with being smart.

Well, being smart, except loving him, apparently.

Why did I ever hate her in the first place? I suppose I hated her because she hated me, but, why does she hate me? I haven’t done anything to her, at least not that I can think of.

As though he dreamed her up, she pops her head into the kitchen, “Against my will, I’ve been asked to tell you to meet Sam and Steve in Conference Room A.” You tell him.

“Oh - Okay, thanks, Probie, for, uh, taking the time to tell me.” Bucky tells her, changing up the insults for once.

“It didn’t take any more time for me telling you than you thanking me. If it was going to take a lot of time, I wouldn’t have said yes to Cap. And, you know my probationary period ended, like, almost two years ago. You can’t call me Probie anymore.” You explain to him.

“So, you took pleasure in delivering this message to me?” Bucky teases and ignores her correction, unable to hold back.

“Ha! Just about as much pleasure as eating garbage straight from the dumpster. If you don’t want to go to the meeting, it’s not my problem.” You tell him before leaving the room.

Bucky smiles to himself, going over the conversation in his head. ‘It didn’t take any more time for me telling you than you thanking me’ is pretty much the same as ‘Anything I do for you is as easy as saying thank you’, in my opinion. Now, if I didn’t think that was sweet, I’d have a heart of stone. How couldn’t I like her? I can’t believe it’s been in front of me this whole time!

Bucky feels a lot better than he did before, heart a lot lighter, too, and he finally makes his way towards the conference room.

...

“Okay! Okay! He told her! He told her!” Nat quickly walks back over to where Sharon is standing waiting for her in the middle of the Avengers garden outside.

Sharon told Nat to find a way to get you out here in order to trick you into eavesdropping. So, Nat got Sam to tell you to look for them out here and that it was extremely important. Important, it is, alright, we’re taking over Cupid’s job, here.

“Okay, remember, we’re only gonna be talking about Bucky, you handle the praise and compliments and I’ll handle the whole he’s in love with her stuff.” Sharon reminds her of the plan.

They hear distant footsteps and begin casually walking down the paved pathway of the garden, making it seem as though they’ve been engaging in conversation this whole time. The both of them can tell by the quick footsteps that are all your own that you’ve now entered the garden and are looking for them.

Sharon and Nat can tell that you are separated from them by a thick shrub, and you should be able to hear them clear enough without them knowing you’re there.

“So you’re sure that Bucky loves her this much?” Nat begins.

“Said so by Sam and my future husband.” Sharon confirms.

“And they told you to tell Geeky?”

“Yes, but I told them I’d hold off on it. I also told them that they should tell Bucky to hold off, too.”

“But, why? Shouldn’t Bucky get a chance to woo and charm Geeky just as any other guy?” Nat asks.

“Sure, he deserves the chance, but it’s just… her. She’s grown to love herself so much; she’s grown so protective of herself that her heart is stronger and tougher than I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure she’s all that capable of love.” Sharon explains.

“I guess you’re right… It would be horrible if Bucky confesses his love for her and she teases him for it.”

“Her wit is also a lot sometimes, especially when it comes to men. They’re always too tall, too short, too talkative, too quiet. There’s always something wrong.”

“So,” Sharon continues, “I think it’s best to hold off on Bucky telling her anything and save him the pain of getting mocked at.”

“I still think you should tell her and see what she has to say about all of this.”

You stand on the opposite side of the tall shrub, concealed by the leaves and branches as you overhear this conversation. But, you’re not all too sure what you’re hearing. Bucky, love, and you, all in the same sentence? They have to be joking; this can’t be a real thing they’re talking about. Did Bucky put them up to this?

“I always wondered why they’d butt heads all the time. I mean, Barnes is a friend, but he’s handsome, he’s smart, he’s funny. And although he’s been through a lot, he has a big heart. And I think she’s in the same position. Two people who have a lot of love to give, but don’t know how to go about showing it all. So they board their hearts up instead.” Sharon thinks aloud.

Maybe they’re not joking. You have never heard Sharon talk about neither you or Bucky like this; perhaps they really don’t know you’re here and they’re telling the truth. What reason would they have to lie, anyway? Or help Bucky follow through with a dumb prank?

But if they’re not joking, that means that Bucky has feelings for you. Good feelings. Warm feelings. Feelings of love. And affection. For you. From him.

That’s weird to think about.

Why have you never gotten along with Bucky? They’re not wrong in the way they describe him; he’s kind, to everyone except you at least, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s very handsome. You’ve alway admired Bucky as a person, like Sharon said, he’s been through hell and back and still strives to be a functioning human in a world he was never meant to live in. He cares so deeply about his friends and is always trying to see where he can improve himself as a man. Except for in the aspect of relationships, apparently.

“Anyway, I wanted your help in picking some colors for my nail polish for the wedding. I don’t see Geeky anywhere so we can just tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to tell her to meet us in my room.” The two women follow the rest of the path out of the garden and back into the building.

You linger among the bushes and flowers for a few moments longer.

Maybe you've been harsh on Bucky in the past. Were you using insults and fights as a defense mechanism for your own fear of relationships? Has Bucky been good all along?

Guilt starts to rise in your chest, feeling more and more awful the longer you think about every single thing you’ve ever said to Bucky. You’re not even sure what started your rivalry in the first place, you always told yourself that you were mean to him because he was mean to you, but neither of you ever did anything wrong to each other in the first place. Was there ever a reason for ill feelings besides the lies you’ve been telling yourself?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction

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sneakerdoodle · 3 years

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"(Not) Alone", Chapter 3

Rated: K

HELLO here are some FEELINGS

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General warnings: trouble breathing; (states resembling) panic attacks; depression; familial tension, difficult parental relationships

You just wish there was still a place for you in the world.

If only the overarching symphony could accommodate the grating, pained sounds brewing in everything that is left of you. If only your song still belonged.

Even if you were still able to sound your heart, what is your lonely voice against the boundless dark around you? What is it without the crackling metal, without the thunderous echo, without the chorus of adoration pushing you forward, against the overwhelming threat of the cosmos?

Was it them who were a part of your song or were you a part of theirs?.. It seems to matter less now. You just wish it still held you up, anchored you; you wish it was still there to make your approach thick with gravity, pulling everything close. You wish you were still irreplaceable, front and center, the very rhythm of the march.

You wish desperately for the same security, promise of importance, to never, ever be left alone again. Just don't leave me alone again. Don't make me one of the many, forgettable, dispensable, easy to toss aside.

Not alone. Anything but alone.

Eya played a funny little joke on you, didn't she. Hilarious.

What an offer it was, to be given a chance on safety, to dig your feet firmly into the ground that had no choice but to cave. To be able to tighten your grip around the world, to hold onto your place in it as fiercely as your body would allow.

Why would you ever say no? Your every wish fulfilled so plentifully, all the comfort you had ever yearned for handed right to you, how could you ever stop? How could you possibly keep yourself from longing for more, for this to never be over?

Once the world started singing a new song, each heart alight, all equal, yours stood no chance. For the first time in your long, fearful life, it had the choice of control. It would never be able to change its tune in time.

The world made you scared. The world made you shake with the thought of the vast expanse of land, then sea, then bottomless skies, all profoundly indifferent to your pathetic little fate. The world never paid you much mind when you were stumbling through it, still just a kid, bruising yourself at every turn, giving your very best - yet never becoming special enough to draw another into your orbit, to be helped, to be loved.

The world seemed to have redeemed itself, by finally giving you every single thing you deserved. Guidance. Purpose. Adoration. It took you into its arms as the most incredible thing it had ever held within itself.

It took advantage of your every deep desire.

It threw you away with no hesitation once your part no longer served the whole. It branded your heart rotten for daring to want what it offered. It infected you with the bone-deep itch to matter, then flinched away in disgust once you tried.

You despise it with every fiber of your being. You hate everything that is alive and moving.

Your hatred is venom, and life rejects it. Life rejects you.

You wish to tear your bleeding, poisoned heart right out.

***

- Oh-hoh! Down already, muffin!

Kiwi lingers on the last step of the stairs, hand on the rails, an exhausted smile faint on their lips. They nod to Mom, then to Baron sitting in the big chair they watched him drag out of the bedroom and dust off just the day before. The mechanical morning greeting is dry and laboured, like their long-suffering neck has rusted through.

- Thought I'd have to go pester you more to get you out of bed, - Mom laughs, setting a teapot in the middle of the table. - Well, come help, since you're here!

Bard nods again, letting their mother's off-handed remark sink into the pit of their stomach – like swallowing an ice cube - and wordlessly makes their way over to the kitchen counter. Baron stirs and follows promptly, hulking behind his two family members. Bard feels incredibly awkward trying to maintain the appropriate amount of eye contact while handing him plates of porridge, which Baron accepts with another silent nod. Overworking one’s neck joints seems to be the most popular method of communication in the household these days.

Baron lumbers over to the table, and Kiwi follows, a bread basket filled with sugar buns and a little bowl of home-made jam in tow. They wince slightly at the sight of it. Rhubarb.

Mom places a round-bellied steaming teapot in the middle of the table and looks over it with a satisfied little hum.

- Don't let it all go cold, now!

Silently consuming the laid-out meal as Mom chatters over it is about the only experience Kiwi and their... dad can find any sort of solidarity in. Now and then, they exchange a wordless look, Kiwi reluctantly spreading jam on a sliced bun, Baron sending a spoonful of oatmeal behind his cheek. Although Baron's awkward silence has a distinct shade of guilt to it. That makes Bard wonder if they should feel worse about not engaging, too.

Mom watches them reach for another pastry and shakes her head with a laugh that is probably supposed to be affectionate.

- You're so hard to cook for, muffin!

Kiwi tries to mold their face into a noncommittal expression, but can feel it scrunch up around their tensely neutral smile as if they'd just bit down on a lemon. They glare at the bowl in Baron's hands with a weird mixture of resistance and jealousy. Not for the contents, for sure, they're more than comfortable with their preferences, but perhaps... for the freedom to casually share a meal.

Baron seems to intercept that look and puts the bowl down. The ceramic bottom taps against the table, a sound like a punctuation mark. He clears his throat.

- So...

Bard looks up at him, all but horrified. Mom throws a quizzical curious glance over the cup of tea she's holding up to her lips.

During the two weeks Kiwi has been staying at their parents' house, they have barely heard Baron utter more than a word, safe for the extremely awkward welcome the next morning after their arrival. Baron seems to be aware of that, too, shifting in his seat for a couple of seconds before continuing.

- I'm sitting in on some workshops and the community meeting at the Fa...- he stops and covers his slip up with a delayed cough, - the center.

He turns to Kiwi, full-body, brushing against the table in the process and causing the cutlery to clatter. Kiwi feels incredibly small.

- I thought that maybe, uh... - Baron rubs his knees, drying his palms. He looks about as nervous as Bard, if that is at all possible, -...you'd want to come as well.

Bard feels like choking, on food or tea, but there is none in their mouth at the moment. So instead they just glare, feeling their own hands become sweatier and sweatier. Spending a whole... day? With their wayward father, of all people?

- Oh-ho-ho, how wonderful! - Mom chimes in cheerfully. Of course, she does.

Kiwi barely has the bandwidth to ruminate on just how shamefully potent their annoyance is. They never voice it, but the sheer power of it still feels impudent, somehow. And they are growing more and more irritable, lately.

- A great day to go out, isn't it? - Mom continues, not helping at all. - It's about time you left the house, too, muffin!

Bard never even gets to reply. Mom moves on to packing the leftover pastries for the two to take with them, and urges Kiwi to have one more with his tea. Kiwi has trouble conceiving of eating anything at all, his stomach in the process of tying itself into several tight knots. He mumbles excuses inarticulately, speaking mostly with his hands that are held up in front of him in a politely defensive gesture. From time to time, he dares to throw a glance at Baron. The latter is stubbornly cleaning his glasses, bushy eyebrows lowered, obscuring his eyes in the lenses’ place.

This is going to be... a day.

Bard doesn't know what to do with their hands as they are walking down the street next to their... dad. Every usual gesture suddenly feels incredibly childish, and for some inexplicable reason, that feels... wrong. Far too... vulnerable? Is this how Miriam feels most of the time?..

Mom's not wrong, it... has been a while since they've been outside. Which makes her remark only more uncomfortable.

The first few days Kiwi diligently tried to engage. They checked in on all the neighbours; hung around the grocery store, sprawled over the counter as Tanya was detailing the stock on the large board behind it; took part in a cooking class at Beth and Katya's; clapped along to the live performances at the Pub. As their visit continued, however, staying in and endlessly re-reading old diary entries was becoming more and more of an easier choice. It got too wearing, desperately trying to enjoy Chismest's new, friendlier face despite the underlying sense of dread that greeted them every morning.

Now, walking down the streets in Baron's company, they smiled awkwardly at every surprised look or forced casual expression. People have been asking Mom if they had left already, Bard knows they have. Mom didn't fail to mention that.

The two walk in silence, neither of them really knowing how to even start to approach a conversation with the other. But Baron has apparently discovered an unsettling amount of gut to try nonetheless.

He clears his throat once again, and Kiwi feels their stomach drop at the prospect of having to handle small-talk.

- So... - Baron seems to be weighing his words in his mind, judging which ones would be best to follow with. Eventually, he sighs in resignation, the same low rustling sound from the other side of the wall. - Do you... like it here?

Bard is... at an utter loss of words. Does she “like it”?..

She likes what Chismest has become. She likes that every familiar face is now healthier, and happier. She likes that everyone is closer now, and caring. She likes that the children can play outside, without choking on poisonous smog.

Do they like being here? Do they like shutting themself in their room, glumly listening to the sound of snowball fights breaking out right under their window? Do they like the unexplainable, persistent sense of... being left behind...

Kiwi gulps down the sick feeling rising from their gut as all the dream sensations attack their body once again, and shakes their head in an attempt to snap out of it.

Baron seems to take that for their reply. His eyebrows move up a degree, and – weirdly – he seems smaller, for just a moment. The thought of letting a single person, let alone Baron, suspect they are the odd one out, fills Bard with panic. They leap into the energetic equivalent of a 180-degree turn and start emphatically nodding instead, trying to emphasize, somehow, that this is their chosen answer.

Baron seems incredibly confused as to what to make of it. He turns away and rubs the back of his neck before carefully, tentatively continuing:

- Y-yeah. Me as well. - He looks up ahead, wistfully, and adds quietly, barely audible: - Strange to think I'd kept myself from this for so long...

Bard shoots a look at Baron's face, conflicted. Are the two of them... relating? Is Baron just as conflicted over the sight of Chismest's thriving?.. They guess it would only make sense for him to be, given everything, but...

But... something.

Whatever the “something” is, it makes the poorly suppressed flurry of emotions within them intensify. They will not explore that. They are not going down that path.

Bard squeezes as polite of a smile as they can out of themself and turns away, looking right ahead. They seem to be approaching the grocery store.

Tanya sees the weird duo pass by the window and waves, bringing both of them to a stop. Soon, she is coming through the door, a little jar in her hands.

- Well hey there, - she seems to greet Kiwi specifically, only sparing Baron a wary side-glance. He does not waver under it. The step back he takes is almost demonstratively polite.

Tanya turns her full attention back to Bard.

- Haven't seen you around in a while, have I?

Kiwi shrugs with an awkward smile. Tanya shakes her head.

- Now, now, I ain't ragging on you. Just couldn't find a good time to give you this.

She extends her hand holding the small jar. Bard takes it into their palms, confused. The contents of it are beaming bright orange. The word “Marmalade“ is written in cursive on the brown label.

- Special delivery! - Tanya smiles warmly; her particular but welcoming demeanor is something Kiwi has grown to appreciate. - Got a whole crate of those, actually, but those pirate friends of yours insisted I keep one safe for you. No idea how they'd caught the wind of you staying here, - she shrugs, - but either way you're getting something sweet outta it.

Kiwi looks at the jar they are carefully holding in their hands, overcome. They suddenly find themself so tired and so fragile, the unexpected wave of gratitude and warmth make their eyes sting with the promise of tears. They look back up at Tanya, their smile for once genuine and heartfelt.

- Thank you 🎶, - they sing softly, struggling to find more words to express how much this is turning out to mean to them. Tanya interrupts it.

- Don't go thanking me, I'm just passing on. - She does the closest thing available to ruffling their hair: patting and flattening their hat with a similar hand motion. - Be good, hon.

She smiles one more time before heading back into the store. Kiwi squeezes their eyes shut, trying to covertly blink the budding tears away, then turns back to where Baron is standing. He seems to have been studying the paving for the last couple of minutes.

Bard takes a reluctant step towards the ex-factory building to signify they are ready to move on. Baron follows, looking at the jar of marmalade they are still clutching in their hands and attempting a slight smile.

- You have many... interesting friends.

Kiwi tries to smile with the same amount of genuine affection they'd just felt at the unexpected gift, but it comes out awkward and sour. They are suddenly very aware of not having said a single articulate word to their dad the entire morning. They clear their throat.

- Yeah!.. 🎶

Her voice is small, quiet, but it's... something, at least. It is bewildering to think about her recent encounter with Baron, the first one in years. It was so easy to challenge him, back when Kiwi had no idea who he was. Now, the overwhelming discomfort and confusion of having to interact with her long-forgotten... father... render her basically incapable of any solid verbal exchange.

They ascend the steps leading up to the entrance into the intimidating building that now houses the Community Center. Kiwi glances over the schedule as they pass it. Workshops, consortium meetings, training, public discussions... Chismest's busy schedule is a constant, at least.

Once inside the building, Kiwi and Baron take the stairs to the second floor of the factory, away from the narrow, menacing hallway leading into the ground. There is no low rumble echoing through it: the production lines are only brought to life to order these days. Bard tries their best to not feel like they are walking above the lair of a sleeping beast.

The two take their seats in a once-spacious conference room, seating rearranged and reimagined in a way that tiptoes along the thin line between ingeniously efficient and absurdly cramped. The room is gradually filling with people who recognize Baron, some giving reserved nods, few – more enthusiastic waves.

A tall dark figure leans into the space between them for a more conspiratorial greeting, murmuring something to Baron in low tones. Baron chuckles and pats the person's shoulder heavily, then turns to Bard. He is smiling; there is uncharacteristic and... frankly unsettling vivacity in that.

- You have met Vlad…,- Baron assumes, only somewhat sure, and Kiwi can finally recognize the tall person as the Clockwork Pub's bartender. They give a sheepish smile and a nod, and Vlad returns the latter, accompanied by a somewhat wistful look.

The sudden weight of a large, heavy palm on their shoulder, along with the pure emotional shock at this distinctly fatherly gesture, almost knock Kiwi's ghost out of them.

- This is my, – there is only a fraction of a beat before the final word drops, - kid.

Bard stares at Baron's face with enough dumbfounded intensity to notice the subtle signs of nervousness: the furrowing brows, the dry lips firmly pressed together. There is some relief in knowing he feels about as uneasy actually saying this.

Vlad nods, slowly, reflectively.

- I should have noticed the semblance, - he draws out, and, barely giving Kiwi time to recover from that, adds: - Good to have you back, young Bard.

Vlad takes an empty seat a few rows away, leaving Kiwi and Baron to sweat in the aftershock of the sudden f a m i l y m o m e n t. The weight of Baron's hand disappearing hardly registers. Kiwi mindlessly stares at the wooden desk in front of him. Vlad's “back” echoes in his mind, dressing in more and more foreboding tones with every encore. Is this it? Are they... staying?.. The thought makes their stomach churn.

They purposefully shift their attention to the people seated around them in an attempt to fight the sickness. There are at least a dozen conversations happening at the table at the same time, from confidential murmurs to loud exchanges interlaced with laughter. The room is bustling with sound and action, even with everyone sitting still.

A single voice rises above the neighbourly commotion, drawing it to a single focus.

- Hello, everyone.

Bard's eyes follow in tandem with everyone else's, and they shrivel up in their chair, wishing to make their body as small as humanly possible. At the center of the room and everyone's attention, there is Elara – the very person Bard has been avoiding since even before his self-imposed confinement. They hunch behind the desk, hoping to not draw her eye.

Elara glances around the room. Her eyes travel from one face to another, eventually meeting Kiwi's. He succumbs to agony as Elara gives him the same plain, honest look, accompanied by a subtle steady smile, before moving on.

- Thank you for coming. - There is a pause as the head astronomer and now community organizer considers what to say next, apparently less confident single-handedly orchestrating a public discussion. She turns to Elmer and gives him a quiet nod.

Elmer, fully in his element, clears his throat, preparing to project.

- Agenda for the day, - he shrieks out, enunciating: - updates on Chismest's research program; the public library initiative, session 1; trade and barter year plan; sustainability panel, session 3.

Elara throws another look around the conference room.

- Unless anybody has any last-minute pitches, - a second-long pause, - let us begin.

The public discussion turns out to be... draining. The many-voiced conversation ebbs and flows: one moment it is overwhelming with everyone’s impatience, people barely managing to not talk over each other; then it is tedious, the consortium mulling over the routine detail of the town's day-to-day functioning.

The worst part is that Kiwi can actually sense the rhythm of it, the rise and the fall; they recognize a skipping shifting rhapsody in the chain of interlinking exclamations, one prompting another; they feel the steady vital rhythm of cross-referenced numbers and well-practiced schedules. They feel the song of the moment.

It is like sensing the vague outline of a repeating dream, recognizing something that used to be vivid in their mind in a completely different state of it. Some part of them longs to join in, crush into the stream of collective life, move with it, be carried by it, naturally dissolving into the overarching symphony. But it is alien, it is a song they do not share with the rest. If there was a time when they knew how to join someone else’s celebration, – and they believe there was, even though it sounds like something from another life - it seems to have passed. Irrevocably.

Kiwi is pulled into the tidal wave only once, without any initiative on their part, as the sky-mapping project is being discussed. Elara's eyes stay on them, thoughtful, trying to puzzle them out, as she asks:

- Are there any news from Delphi? If you wouldn't mind sharing.

Kiwi thinks back to the letter entombed in the drawer of their bedside table, out of sight, yet still burning in her mind daily and making her shrivel up with guilt, then plunge herself into avoidance. They vividly re-live the sensation of crumpling yet another sheet of colorful paper up, failing to find the words for their reply. Their decision to stay (for a while? ...indefinitely? no, no, surely not) is already obvious. Why do they dread the idea of actually announcing it to Miriam so much?

Bard shakes the thought off, returning to the present moment, to the concerned, questioning looks of everyone who has just watched them zone out, lost in their own mind. They smile pitifully as they shake their head again, more emphatically. Elara nods, slowly, her eyebrows softly knitting together, and Bard makes a mental note to leave the room as soon as the meeting is over, sneak away with the crowd before they can be stopped and questioned further.

The conversation moves on, and Bard is left outside of it, rocked by irregular waves, thrown in this and that direction like old, soggy driftwood. She cannot follow the flow of the discussion, she cannot focus on the words bouncing from one end of the overcrowded room to another, and the unsteady rhythm she cannot keep up with leaves her queasy. She just wants to crawl back under her blanket, let it muffle all the sounds apart from her own breathing - and try not to think too hard about the latter, the tightness in her non-existent chest that haunts her every dream, the persistent pull somewhere out of cosmos--

Okay. She needs something to center herself. One single thing to focus on, to ignore the surrounding chorus.

Kiwi barely gets to think before their eyes stop on Baron's face – arguably, the worst possible subject for them to try to ground themself with half-through their unraveling. But Baron seems to feel out of place in the general harmony as well, and that provides Kiwi with a weird, uncomfortable sort of solidarity, another’s experience forcing itself on them through the sheer familiarity of it. At the back of their mind, they note how this feels sort of like being possessed by a ghost (again), but also… as if they are doing the possession at the same time?.. They could compare it to their nightmares. But they won’t. They are not thinking about those.

The chorus of the consortium is spontaneous, unpracticed, noisy. Kiwi thinks back to the rhythmic thumping of factory machinery, the unified movement of workers, in at nine, out at five. Up until recently, Baron hadn't heard anything but that steady march for more than twenty years. No wonder this is weird for him, too.

There is this specific hesitation to him, as well: how he frowns at something he feels the need to dispute, opens his mouth - but stops before producing any sound. He seems to be marking his thoughts on a piece of paper, but that hardly satisfies him, and he is left shifting in his seat restlessly, exhaling sharply through his nostrils.

All this fidgeting is much less subtle than he probably thinks. His immediate neighbours keep throwing looks in his and Bard's direction, some of them questioning, some incredulous. Associating with their father is not something Bard is generally excited about, but here, in the troughs of difficult history and unresolved hurt, the discomfort is all the more intense.

At one point, Baron leans on the desk with his entire lumbering frame, making it creak, and lets out a loud jingling sigh. The room goes quiet.

Heads turn.

People are looking at the imposing figure with overwhelmingly guarded expressions. Baron notices the kind of attention he has drawn to himself and fixes his gaze in front of him, visibly tense. Next to him, Kiwi is trying to slide under the desk undetected.

They think back to Tanya, to the look in her eyes when she saw Baron. They are suddenly acutely aware of how much of a pressuring, entitled presence Baron must be to many people in Chismest. Even those ready to give him a second chance must feel threatened when the person who once dictated their entire way of life tries to affect it once again, even as an equal.

Baron seems to be aware of this, too. He is demonstratively silent, barely even breathing when he raises his eyes, but there is a weird air of defiance to it. He looks around defensively, as if the room has just collectively reached for pitchforks.

For a moment, Bard sees him again the way they did some months ago, for the first time in many, many years. Prideful, self-righteous, towering over the rest of the world that simply does not know what is best for it.

Back then, that hardly had any effect on them, outside of Chismest's general depressing atmosphere. Now, knowing that this was their father, the very mythical looming presence at the back of their mind, casting its shadow onto every little misstep and every instance of rejection, a constant reminder of their insignificance... The thought makes Kiwi shudder. Nothing scares them more than the idea of this cold, dismissive look inevitably turning to them, saying everything that has previously only been implied.

Kiwi is sitting next to the scariest person this side of a life-sucking void outside of time and space, and all the eyes are on the two of them, and the rest of the word makes no difference between Baron and his lost, odd child, both of them glaringly out of place.

The longest few seconds of their life – not counting the world's impending end, they suppose - pass in deafening silence stretched so thin KIwi is scared it's going to burst any moment. Then the conversation slowly picks up, flows once more, avoiding the now isolated island of Baron's seat. Kiwi dares to look around from where they are half-hidden behind the desk. Have their neighbours to the right and to the left moved just a little bit further away?..

Elara's eyes linger on Baron's face just a fraction of a second longer, with some hint of rapport. Her chin moves ever so slightly in a secret nod intended only for him, before she turns back to the indignant speaker interrupted by Baron's display of frustration.

Baron himself spends the rest of their time in the conference room stone-still. Bard tries to mimic, hoping any further attention slides off of her if she blends into the background. Under the desk, though, her sweating hands are desperately clutching the marmalade jar.

When Elmer calls a break and Baron stands up, intending to leave, Bard all but deflates with relief. They do not have to follow him around, they know it. But, however deeply rattling it is to be around him, especially now, they feel a strange sense of obligation. Like the plan sprung on them over breakfast means both they and their parent are supposed to fulfill a certain quota before either is released from this weird, strained attempt on father-child bonding time.

Kiwi doesn't like this feeling. It's been a long time since they had to be someone's child, and they cannot remember the last time they were their father's. It was hard enough to balance their dreams and desires alongside Mom's off-handed but insistent expressions of all the regrets she quite openly held, about Kiwi's passions, their chosen path in life, their decision to leave and the lack of visits. This new, sudden and alien responsibility for yet another familial relationship feels only heavier with the weight of all the years Kiwi didn't have to bother with it, outside of the sleepless nights by the window or picking at their being in search of apparent faults.

Bard feels his fists clench at his sides as he sinks into a dark, glum state of low-burning anger. It was never his decision to put the two of them into this situation. Why must he feel any responsibility--

He is yanked right out of his thoughts as Elara's voice cuts through the background noise of moving benches and discordant steps.

- Oh, Baron. Good day. I was just about to find you.

Kiwi freezes, for just a second, then chooses cowardice. They look around, hurriedly, and slip behind Baron's wide back, trying to get lost in the crowd against all odds, pulling the glaring beacon that is their red feather hat off their head. Maybe it's their restless imagination, maybe it is the proverbial sixth sense, but they feel two pairs of eyes follow them to the exit. No one calls out, however, leaving them to their expeditious escape.

Outside of the conference room, Kiwi leans against the wall and lets out a long sigh, half-exhausted, half-relieved. The general commotion of the many groups of people moving up and down the hallways, of doors opening and slamming shut, is still hard on their frazzled nerves. They want to go home. They don't want “home” to be their mother’s.

They're not sure how long they stand there for until Baron exits as well, looking thoughtful, scratching his chin. He seems almost surprised to see Bard right next to the door and takes a moment to recollect himself. He clears his throat and attempts to... look cheerful?.. That does not quite work out, and eventually Baron gives up and simply sighs, despondent.

- I will not be staying around for the second half, - he announces with a glum expression. - You're welcome to, if you...

Bard shakes their head, and Baron nods, slowly, processing.

- Well... - he sighs again, then makes his way down the hallway, - this means I'm free to join a couple of workshops. - He looks at Bard, contemplative, then forces out: - Why don't you... try out any? See if there is anything you'd like.

Kiwi weighs her options. They need space, desperately. They do not want to aimlessly wander the streets, prompting polite conversations and letting the cold air freeze them all the way through. They would not be able to deal with the meaningful look in Mom's eyes right now, and it is coming if they return home so early, making their way straight to their room.

They just need a quiet corner.

They find it at the back of a room where a small-voiced, timid-looking person is delivering a lecture in low, unimposing tones. Kiwi leans against the wall, cradling their knee, feeling their eyelids droop with the weight of the past weeks of poor sleep, poor mood and general nervous exhaustion. They let themself node off, the incoherent scribblings on the board slowly blurring into even more meaningless shapes.

They sway on the very cusp of sleep and wakefulness, safe from the disarray of life and the cold thick terror of nightmares. There is an unsettling amount of comfort to be found in not having to deal with existing.

Bard places the marmalade jar on top of the bedside table. Their eyes linger on the handle of the drawer just below the board. Hesitantly, they curl their fingers around it and pull the drawer open.

Miriam's letter rests on top of a chaotic pile of paper and various craft supplies. It isn't folded, and the familiar words call out to them once again.

“Bard,

Kiwi,

Hey, you

Uh. Hi.”

A weak smile tugs at their mouth.

The rest of the letter burns with long-overdue, not very well-concealed urgency, kindling the background sense of guilt that is now pretty much constant.

“...haul boards around on my broom like a mule while everyone is hovering and asking me questions and RUSHING ME. There's a lot of people and

We're holding off 'till you're here anyway, so like, hurry up?? I don't... know what to do with all of THEM wanting something from me all the time, and Saphy's no dang help!!! I don't know why she expects me to... UGH, whatever.”

The haunting vision of Miriam shutting further and further down under the pressure, knowing Bard was supposed to be there next to her, feeling abandoned and alone, starts turning Kiwi's guts inside out once again. But still, there is a bitter sort of comfort in reading this hesitant message from their best friend, examining the familiar antsy corners of her handwriting. Kiwi reaches for it, fingertips hovering just above the surface of the paper. Their eyes linger on the last line, scribbled on rashly, almost like an afterthought. Which means she really meant it.

“...Miss you.”

There is a shout from down the stairs. Bard's hand jolts back.

- Don't take too long, muffin! - Mom draws out, rushing him to take his place at the dinner table. Bard throws one final glance at Miriam's name at the bottom of the page before leaving the room.

He will write back today. Totally! Probably.

It's hard to make their dinner go down when Baron keeps throwing heavy glances in Kiwi's direction. They try their best not to notice, but the unspoken tension pumps their body full of adrenaline. Bard wants to shift and fidget and move their limbs to shake out the pinpricks of restless nervous energy, but hesitates, not wanting to draw even more attention. She is stuck sending one spoonful of veggie stew into her mouth after another in a mechanical, almost robotic motion, only occasionally nervously glancing over to where Baron keeps staring with the air of inexplicable dread.

Once the table is cleared and the unspokenly mandated fifteen to thirty minutes of quality family time begin, things escalate.

Bard is absent-mindedly picking at the stray threads of the couch's armrest when a cough up above calls for their attention. Baron is towering over them, looking sulking and miserable.

Oh no.

Kiwi's head snaps in the other direction, grasping at the last straw of Mom's presence, only to see her thoughtfully leave the room. Of course. Of course.

As Bard feverishly ponders whether Ira's usual lack of consideration is reserved for turning their life into quiet misery, Baron sits down, a full seat over. Kiwi feels the couch sag under his weight and grabs the armrest, scared of getting pulled into this sudden gravity well. They are staring at their knees, desperately hoping this isn't going where this is certainly, absolutely, one hundred percent going.

- So...

Kiwi is now staring holes in the floor, hoping to compel it to open on command and mercifully swallow her whole.

Baron sighs, and out of the corner of her eyes, Kiwi sees his shoulders fall into a tired, resigned posture.

She keeps begging Eya to let her disappear.

When Baron speaks again, the words come out on the exhale, heavy, weary, bare.

- You saw me out there. I... - a pause, as he searches for words, while Bard prays for them to never, ever come, - I... made a great mess of things. Too many mistakes, for too long.

He lets the thought sink in, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of it. He wants Bard to know he means it. He thinks this is better. This is so, so much worse.

Baron continues, eventually.

- Now no one... really knows what to do with me. Myself included.

There's a mirthless chuckle, and Kiwi dares to throw a single glance at Baron's face, a bitter smile cutting hard lines into it.

Bard is silent.

Baron sighs once again, heavier.

- Despite that, what you did... what all of you did, and what you played a large part in... it brought me here, like everyone else. I don't quite know how to move on. But the world has decided it was…, - he hesitates for a second, - better off with me in it. I can't pretend to understand why, but it has.

The last sentence barely reaches Bard's ears through the sounds of blood pounding in them. He is suddenly flooded with panic, his body locking up, leaving him short of breath. No. No, don't make him think of that.

Oblivious to the fact that his child is suffocating, choked by terror, right next to him, Baron continues.

- I've hurt people. In more ways than I can ever hope to make up for. But I'm still... here. And it seems that the only right thing to do is to try, still.

Don't think. Don't think of the implication. Don't consider the fact that the world is trying to force you out of itself every single night. Don't think about what it means, that the man next to you, the one that had haunted the bigger part of your life with unspoken judgment, the one that terrifies you with just how easily he could destroy any semblance of peace you might've managed to gather, just might deserve a place in this universe much more than you ever did.

Is this really how it works? Their father, who spent decades hurting others out of the self-serving notion that he knew what people needed better than them, gets to stay with those he had wronged, while Kiwi is tortured with nightly reminders of what it would be like, to be left eternally alone, for daring to not have had an immediate, magical change of heart. They clench their fists in their lap, trying their best not to shake.

Baron notices, finally. There are a few seconds of silence as he staggers, obviously unsure how to proceed. Out of the corner of their watering eyes (no, no, no, this only makes this worse...), Bard sees him take his glasses off.

Baron rubs his eyes, wearily, then places a heavy hand on Kiwi's shoulder. They shrivel up and look over, sheepishly.

Baron meets their gaze. One would expect his eyes to be a piercing cold blue, to match the white in his hair and his general demeanor, inexplicably reminiscent of frost. Instead, they are brown. Dulled, shadowed by his furrowed brows, yet still... warm.

- Kiwi.

If only there were words in any human language capable of explaining why his father calling him by his name has just made Kiwi so disorientingly sick.

- Things are changing.

Please don't say that. Please.

- I would like to change with them, if I can.

Bard turns away from the eyes that look unsettlingly like their own and chokes down a laugh, too afraid it will come out as a sob. It gargles in their throat, weird and vague and embarrassing. The hand on their shoulder tightens in an attempt to comfort, and Kiwi wants to run miles away from themself.

- I know I have... hurt you. More than anyone else, perhaps.

He should stop. Can he please stop. Can't he see how hard Bard is trying to not think about-

- You don't owe me patience, or forgiveness. But I'm here. ...If there is anything at all that you need from me.

Silence hangs heavy over them, threatening to crash Bard's stiff, trembling body. This is the part where they are supposed to say something. “I understand”, or “I will never forgive you”, or “Why did you do it?”, or “Did you ever miss me at all?”. Instead, they can barely push a single gulp of air down into their lungs. They stopped trying to sing when they discovered it is barely possible to get a spoken word out in their family's presence. How come being under this roof always renders them voiceless?

Baron waits. Patiently. It is terrifying, to think that he will continue waiting, always ready for Kiwi to walk in through this very door, announcing she is ready to mend their ill phantom of a relationship.

He is waiting for an answer. Any answer. Give him something, anything at all, just make it stop.

Bard nods, slowly, shakily, praying that this faint acknowledgment gets them off the hook. He could not possibly want more. He does not get to ask for more.

Baron's hand lingers on their shoulder another second, before finally releasing. Kiwi deflates in relief and immediately jumps off the couch, their legs wobbly, knees weak. Their eyes slide past Baron's lost expression. Without looking at him, they give another frantic nod and tear off towards the stairs, grabbing onto the handrails for dear life.

Her room is swaying softly before her. Kiwi takes one unsteady step away from the door, eyes wandering aimlessly. They catch the open drawer with the letter inside it, and Kiwi feels like she is about to crumble. She grabs the handle with a weak shaking hand and shuts it in a jerky motion.

The marmalade jar rocks with the bedside table, then tips over and hits the floor. The thick glass thuds loudly against the wooden boards. It rolls into the corner.

Bard lowers themself to the floor next to their bed, shaken, nauseous. They pull their hat off and do their best to breathe.

The ceiling light overhead is swinging slightly from the momentum of the door slamming shut just a few seconds ago. Bard's shadow is shifting, the outline vague and blurred. It looks little like themself.

For a second, they could swear they recognize the shape of a long scarf obscuring the line of their neck.

#wandersong #kiwi wandersong #the bard wandersong #baron wandersong #my writing #(not) alone #it's been a whileeeeee i've been. busy >:3c #if you enjoy it do let me know 😌

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themattgirl · 3 years

Note

Hiii, I was wondering if you could please do another part to breathless? I would like to see where she confronts the friend please?

Hii, I‘m sorry that this came so late. The past year has been shit and I just couldn’t motivate myself to write anything because i knew it’d be something depressing and I didn’t want to do that because that would result in me being even more depressed sooo anyway... I‘m finally back and ready to deliver. Enjoy, my lovelies! ✨

Please read Breathless first to understand this if you haven’t already.

Relentless

Sequel to Breathless

Right in front of the door a white Tesla is waiting for Y/N. The guy sitting behind the steering wheel is looking out of the rolled down window with a cigarette between his index and middle finger, facing the street opposite Y/N’s and her boyfriend’s living place. He jumps in shock when he turns his head to face the person who cleared their throat only to find Harry standing there bent down and looking down at the smoker.

“This spot isn’t for you to park your car in, sorry.” Harry speaks after the boy’s face doesn’t look like he just saw a ghost anymore.

“I was waiting for her actually,” he tells him a little nervous and points to Y/N behind Harry. “We’ll get lost in a sec, c’mon babe, get in.”

Harry turns around and looks at her just so the guy doesn’t see the smirk he can’t keep at bay. Y/N hides hers by licking her lips. Harry faces forward again, but points over his shoulder with his thumb. “Oh, you mean Y/N? Why would she get in your car? How do you know her?” he asks questions he knows the answers well enough to.

“We’ve been friends since forever. We were gonna hang out today, but I don’t understand how that would be any of your business.”

“Ah, sorry, yes. You don’t know me. Let me introduce myself.”

Harry walks around the front of the car to the passenger side, Y/N right on his heels. He opens the car door and slides himself into the seat, not shutting the door yet, but holding his hand out for the boy to shake. “I’m Harry Styles,” he puts on a smile that shows his dimples while Y/N climbs onto his lap, now straddling him.

She cups Harry’s face and turns it so he faces her and leans down to lock their lips. It was just a simple kiss, lips meeting lips.

“I’m Y/N’s boyfriend,” Harry tells him, the smile turning into a mischievous smirk when he feels his girlfriend’s lips on his neck. “Who are you?” he keeps talking as if Y/N isn’t sucking a hickey right below his ear.

“I-I didn’t... uhh. Woah, s-sorry I–” the boy stammers with wide eyes, his cigarette long fallen from between his fingers to the ground out of the window. Y/N doesn’t seem to care about anything he has to say, because after kissing the dark red spot on Harry’s jaw better, she grabs his face and turns his head to her again so she can connect their lips again. This time she uses her tongue, too. It’s not a simple kiss anymore, they are full on making out in the car of someone who only came because he expected to have his dick sucked in the next 20 minutes.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I was told you give head for free,” the poor boy seems very confused.

Y/N separates herself from Harry and faces the third wheeler, “I do, but that deal only applies to that one here, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Harry laughs.

“He’s right, I’m really not sorry at all.”

“Wait, so–” The guy starts but cuts himself off to think before deciding to speak again. “So, does that mean I’d have to pay? How much–”

This time it’s Harry who interrupts his talking, “No, you prick. It means the only dick she swallows is mine.”

He has been friendly throughout this whole exchange, but this is the moment he was waiting for so patiently. The moment this scumbag proves he is a scumbag. How dare he assume that precious Y/N would seriously do anything with him, that she would want to do it with him? How does he translate her sitting on Harry Styles’ lap, making out with him, giving him hickeys and even saying she doesn’t do whatever he heard she does into it meaning she’d suck his little thing for a ridiculous amount of money?

His stupid question got Y/N just as mad, he can see it in her face and hear it through the way her breathing changed. And as much as Harry wants to just punch that wanker in the face and cut the top of his head off to check if there’s a brain inside, he promised Y/N he’d let her handle it herself. She didn’t tell him what she was thinking of doing though, so he’s curious to see what her crazy mind came up with this time. He is also kind of apprehensive because he knows when Y/N gets mad, she gets mad mad. And to see the put on guilty look on her face already meant trouble for the tosser in the driver’s seat.

“The only person whose dick I take into my mouth is Harry’s and honestly it’s more than enough for me. He’s quite big, you know? He fills me out completely and not only my mouth, you should see us fuck. Oof. Look, I don’t usually have to gag from anything but sometimes when he’s fucking my mouth it just happens. I gag around him and I can’t help it, it’s just too much sometimes. Do you think your little friend would make me gag?” She speaks lowly, but somehow still sounds innocent in a way. Harry squeezes her hips in question after that last sentence but Y/N rubs his cheek with her thumb as a way of telling him she knows what she’s doing. He trusts her enough to relax again. She continues.

“Hm, we can’t check that obviously. But do you think I’d be overwhelmed if we tried? Imagine my lips wrapped around your cock, my hands gripping your thighs-” she places one hand on his thigh, “-because I can’t keep my balance from how hard you’d fuck my mouth. And tears starting to make my vision swimmy because you keep hitting the back of my throat with the head of your dick. Would I gag? Oh gosh, the imagination is starting to make me wet.” She starts rubbing his thigh, very close to his crotch but not quite where he needs her hand to be.

“I wish I was in a bed right now, getting fucked. Sex with Harry is incredible, he’s very good in bed. Are you? Do you think you’d hit all my right spots? Well, Harry knows everything about me already so I guess it’d be unfair to compare, right? In fact, he knows me so well he can make me cum with his fingers in only fife minutes. Oh and one time – actually, it was more than once – it took him only seven minutes with his tongue on my pussy to get me there. It was phenomenal. God, I remember how hard I came. I doubt you could do that to me but I bet I could bring you to cloud nine really fast.” She hears his breath picking up and getting heavier.

“I won’t do anything with you obviously, but still. I know I could. Oh my God, maybe you could watch? Wouldn’t that be nice too? Me and The Harry Styles getting each other to cum multiple times? Do you like it soft or rough? You look like someone who likes rough sex. Maybe you could watch Harry tie me up and fuck me until I’m screaming. Or would you rather enjoy it if we’d tie you to a chair and make you watch us doing all the things you wish you could do. Yeah, you’d like that, huh?”

Finally, when Y/N looks down on his lap she sees the bulge in his jeans and retrieves her hand from his thigh. She leans more into him and notices his eyes fluttering shut. When her mouth hovers in front of his ear she whispers, “Go get yourself someone else to take care of your little problem here because I surely won’t.”

She pulls back, pecks Harry’s lips once and gets off his lap and out of the car. Harry throws in a quick “It was nice meeting you” and hurries after Y/N who is already walking in the direction of her own car.

Once he catches up to her and they both get in the car, he waits until she drives off before he speaks.

“What the fuck was that?”

Y/N knows he isn’t mad, but she can hear how thrown off he is. He certainly did not expect this.

“Got him hard and left him to go home with blue balls. Good, huh?” she smiles, but doesn’t take her eyes off of the road.

Harry is silent for a few long seconds, which worries her a little, but then he laughs out loud, even throwing his head back and clapping his hands twice. “Amazing!”

Y/N relaxes and chuckles along with him.

“You said you were getting wet, though. Were you?” he asks when the laughter dies down.

“Ew, no. Are you crazy? I probably would have if it wasn’t for him being there and me bringing up his dick throughout the whole... story.”

“Yeah, same.” Harry agrees.

“You would’ve been hard from what I said?” Y/N smirks and glances at him for only a second before watching the road again.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Where’re we going?”

“Kickin’ ass.”

Once in Y/N’s ex-best-friend’s dorm room, their mood changes completely. The first thing they see is a poster on the wall next to the small single bed with a shirtless Harry Styles on it.

“Oh God,” Harry murmurs behind his girlfriend.

“What are you doing here?” Jade, the owner of the room asks.

“You hang up a poster of my boyfriend right after I move out?” Y/N ignores her question and throws in one of her own instead.

“Not a poster of your boyfriend. A poster of Harry Styles, the singer I have liked ever since I discovered music.” Jade tries to explain.

“The singer who happens to be my boyfriend. And it’s a shirtless picture, for fuck’s sake. If it was anyone else’s room I wouldn’t care to look twice and laugh about it. But the facts it’s you just makes it weird.”

“It’s not weird, it–” Y/N cuts off whatever bullshit Jade was about to say.

“It is weird and you know it. Or else you wouldn’t have waited until I was gone to hang it up.”

“Why are you here anyway?” She asks when she fails to think of something to say to Y/N’s fact.

“Get the rumours out of the world,” Y/N crosses her arms over her chest while demanding it, Harry doing the same behind her.

“Or what?” Jade has the audacity to ask.

“You don’t want to risk finding it out. Do what I said.”

“I’m not scared of you, princess. And how would I even do that anyway?”

“The same way you started it, princess. I don’t care how you do it. Go on, I’ll wait here until it’s done.” she leans back against Harry who is quick to wrap his arms around her from behind.

“If so then you can move back in, ‘cause I won’t be doing shit. It’s your problem, not mine.”

“Oh, is that so?” Y/N smiles devilishly. That’s exactly how she expected this conversation to go. Honestly, she hoped it would.

She walks further into the room and sits down on the chair by the desk, Harry behind her with his hands on her shoulders and Jade’s open laptop in front of her. She closes all the open tabs – and if there was an unsaved 28k word document then oops – before opening Twitter. Luckily Jade was logged in, just like she expected.

“I wanted to give you the chance to choose what you want to say to clear things up, but it looks like I’m gonna have to do it myself. And it’s gonna end up bad. For you, obviously.” she chuckles quietly before she starts typing away on the keyboard of the laptop in front of her and reads word for word out loud for Jade to hear.

“Get your hands off my stuff!” Jade steps forward to try and stop Y/N but Harry quickly gets in the way. He doesn’t even have to touch her, all he does is block her way to Y/N.

Y/N types and reads, “Hello dear twitties.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ridiculous, right? That’s how she starts off every single one of her Tweets,” Y/N laughs with him. “Anyway, how should I start this?”

Jade tries to get a word in but Harry speaks over her. “Make her admit she’s a liar and make her sound like a crazy bitch.”

“Mmh, I like that,” Y/N turns her head and smiles up at him, “Gimme a kiss.”

Harry leans down with a smile and does so.

Y/N faces the laptop again and starts typing, “I’m sure you all remember my post about Y/N giving BJs on campus for free. This is embarrassing to admit, but it was a lie. So I would like to apologise to her and to all of the guys who got turned down by her because of that lie. I have some good news for you, though. I did it because I wanted to see if there would actually be people contacting her and now that I’ve seen it work, I’d like to announce that I’m taking her place. I’ll be the one to suck you off. Please leave her alone and call me instead.”

“Wait, I’ll give you her phone number,” Harry suggests and fishes Y/N’s phone out of her jeans. Once the number is typed beneath the text she clicks the Tweet button so it’s for everyone to see. Then she closes everything again, but before she can shut the laptop, the picture Jade has saved as her screen wallpaper catches her eye. Not only is it a picture of Harry, but one where she herself is edited into it so it looks like he is kissing her cheek.

“Alright, this is getting too weird. C’mon babe, let’s get outta here.” Harry pulls Y/N up off the chair and leads her out of the room.

“This is a joke, right? She can’t be that sick,” Y/N murmurs more to herself than to anyone else.

“Let’s just go get you a new phone number, please.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles filth #harry styles writing #harry chats

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lets-get-kraken-boys · 4 years

Text

FatGum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) X Chubby! Confectioner/Baker! Reader: Sweets and Treats~

(Description: Woo, I’m so excited for my first story on this account! This inspiration came to me after thinking about our one and only, favorite chubby pro hero and me wanting to see some puppy love for you two. Also, the title says Confectioner/Baker, I want to clarify that Reader isn’t truly a baker but I feel like “Confectioner” wouldn’t reach as large of a crowd as “Baker” would, not a big deal but just FYI. I hope my first fic is enjoyed by those who choose to read, thank you for the support.)

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(H/C) - Hair Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(F/C) - Favorite Color

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Female (She/Her)

Style of Story: Oneshot // Entirely fluff, a pinning love on both ends, and a happy end to boot! There is one little heartbreak moment, but it’s over in a second.

Word Count: 4.5K Words

WARNING(s): None, unless you see adorable, tooth-rotting fluff as a crime!

“Morning, Tammy! Lovely day, isn’t it?” you greeted your employee with a bright smile as she stumbled through the door into your bakery.

She huffed, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Sure, but I’ve hardly been up long enough to notice it. How are you always so peppy this early?” She pointed to the mechanical clock ticking from the left wall that read ‘4:04 AM’. You glanced outside and saw hardly anyone walking through the streets, except the occasional drunkard or lonely soul.

You bashfully shrugged your shoulders, “Well, after years of suffering waking up at three in the morning, you kinda get used to the torment! But, hey, so happy we got the shop far away from the center of the city, you can actually see the sunrise from here!” you tried to help her look on the bright side as you handed her one a cup of one of your homemade coffee brews. She took a sip of the drink and let out a content sigh through her nose, a small, but thankful smile on her face.

“You know, for being a confectioner, you make some pretty solid coffee. What is that?” her eyebrows furrowed as she asked, taking another swig to figure out the secret intense flavor.

You giggled, “That’s probably the nutmeg I added. Is it good?”

“More like fantastic, (Y/N). Trying out new recipes again?” she asked over her shoulder, hanging up her light jacket that protected her from the early morning breeze while grabbing her apron. Though, it being July in Japan, she probably wouldn’t need it again for a while.

“Yeah, I think this one will really please the early risers. It gives a special sort of kick to the taste, don’t you think?” you asked while gently sliding open the glass case that held all of the beautifully decorated pastries, grabbing a pair of tongs and a small floral ceramic plate, carefully placing a fresh Apple Strudel onto the plate, and setting it down on the counter.

“Totally. Hey, can I have a--,” Tammy stopped mid-sentence as she turned around to see the delectable treat already waiting for her.

“Your breakfast awaits, m’lady~,” you slurred out in a fake British accent with a cheesy smirk and a dramatic bow.

She scoffed, “You dork. Am I really that predictable?” she asked, scarfing down the pastry in a matter of seconds as she leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” you joked as she playfully shoved your plush side.

“You know,” she continued, looking down at the gooey food, “It’s a shame you aren’t more popular with the people. You have a great location, an amazing personality and work staff, if I do say so myself, and don’t even get me started on the incredible stuff you make,” she praised.

“Oh, stop it, Tammy. You’re gonna make me blush,” you flushed from her sincere words, “Besides, I’ve only been open for two weeks, it’s going to be slow for awhile. It’ll ramp up eventually.”

“Yeah, I guess, but you can’t deny that your baked goods are better than most of the others in the country! One day, when people get their heads out of their asses, these little gifts of magic are going to make you RICH!” she threw her lanky airs up into the air and around your shoulders. She spun your smaller frame in a circle while the two of you laughed.

“Ha! Yeah yeah, I know! Now, stop your messing around and come help me fill the rest of these Cream Horns.” you concluded while you pat her taller shoulder. She groaned at the request but gave you a tiny nod. Tammy turned around while tying her short, brown hair into a messy bun, readying herself for the busy day ahead. You smiled while she retreated to the kitchen but before you went to follow her you decided to look out the window again.

Shuffling your legs over to the windows, you got a clear view of the rising sun and all its glory, the hints of yellow, orange, pink, red, and even blue from the night's previous dark veil still clung onto the brightening sky. Somehow you had this weird feeling that today something life changing was going to happen. You didn’t know if you should be excited or worried, but you decided to push those thoughts aside and continue on to the back of the shop where you could already hear the clutter and clang of falling pans, no doubt Tammy’s handy work.

Oh, if you only knew how right your hunch was…

~ Timeskip to a little later in the day and a P.O.V change to FatGum ~

“How much longer do I have for patrol?” I asked myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. The time read ‘9:12 AM’ and I huffed, still a couple more hours to go. Putting the device back in my pocket with a grimace but quickly faked a smile as I continued down the bustling street. The active community, excited civilians, and eager children usually never fails to put a smile on my face, but today everything just felt like a drag. I was sluggish, unfocused, and I couldn’t understand why. I shook my head, get your head in the game, Taishiro. You don’t have time to let your mind wander on duty.

After what seemed like hours, but was more than likely only 15 minutes, I felt my stomach let out a rumbling growl which made me groan. I stopped walking on the sidewalk and took a second to consider the situation, wandering the city for a couple of hours with nothing too exciting to do really works up an appetite, and I do need to keep up my strength. I’m a hero after all, and denying myself is like ignoring my civic duty to protecting the people! At this point, I’ll take any excuse to get out of this pointless shambling. But the REAL question is, what to get? I glanced around the street and noticed a few shops further down the block that looked to be food related. I smirked, perfect.

I wove through the few people occupying the area, past a few excited teenagers who asked for autographs, and eventually made it to the shops. Looking around I saw some insurance shops, an enticing Pad Thai sit down, and few others, but the one that caught my eye was a cutesy, (F/C)-painted bakery named, “Queen of Tarts”. Chuckling at the interesting name choice, I looked inside the establishment through the plexiglass windows.

The inside carried a light, fluffy atmosphere, pastel colored walls combining with the checkered tile floor caused a small smile out of me. A few small tables with delicate iron chairs here and there, but the real prize were the copious amounts of sweets that were displayed in the glass cases. Each were different colors, sizes, but they all looked delicious. Feeling my stomach grumble, I grabbed the door handle, flung it open, and walked into the scrumptious smelling shop. After walking in, the tiny jingle of bells alerting the workers of my presence, I finally saw the most stunning sweet of all.

“Hi, welcome to the Queen of Tarts, how may I help you today?” the gorgeous woman at the counter asked but it didn’t register in my brain because I was already lost in thought. Her adorable (H/C) hair framed her face to show her soft, chubby cheeks, her eyes glistened in the sunlight, and her smile, oh, it completely lit the room with its radiance. Curves in all the right places, I felt my cheeks heat up as I let out a nervous laugh, cursing my inner self for not holding it together. Seriously, I can face the nastiest of villains but throw one pretty lady in front of me and I fall apart? Fantastic. Realizing I wasn’t answering, I quickly stepped forward and cleared my throat.

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” ‘Wow, so smooth, Taishiro,’ I criticized in my head, “I...haven’t seen this store here before, you new?” I offered a smile, which she returned tenfold, making me even more flustered.

“Yes, actually! I set up shop here only a few weeks ago, finally settling in with the hustle and bustle of city life.” she finished, leaning in closer against the marble counter with her arms crossed.

“City life? You didn’t grow up here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Grew up on more of the countryside style of life. I love the city though, do you?”

“Yeah, you gotta get used to it when you spend all your time protecting it.” I let a hint of boasting attitude out, hoping she’d realize who I am.

“Ha, I hear ya! I do my own share of ‘protecting’ around here too. Well, if you count making goodies, that is.” she giggled, standing up and walking over to the glass containers. I deflated a little, guess that wasn’t going to work this time. I shuffled over to where she was standing and looked down at the treats they offered.

“So, kind stranger, what is it you’ll be having?” she asked after a minute of me inspecting the pastries. The problem with not being picky about what you eat, means there are tons of more options than that of others, and when all the items look equally as delectable, you get a little overwhelmed. Plus, the fact that a beautiful woman whom I would very much like to not embarrass myself in front of is waiting for my answer doesn’t help.

I gulped, “I don’t know, they all look amazing. What’s your favorite?” I asked, hoping to know a little more about her.

“Oh, gosh, let me think…” she pouted, resting her head on the palm of her hand while looking deep in thought at the treats. The adorable crease of her eyebrows scrunched together, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration, her lovely, curvalicious body...that’s it, I’m so screwed.

“I think I’d go for the Chocolate Cream Puff,” her answer drawing both me and her out of our distracted states, “My dad taught me years ago this amazing chocolate ganache recipe and I drizzle that all over the tops of homemade pastry puffs and the whipped filling, ugh! It’s to die for, seriously!” she finished, a sparkle in her (E/C) eyes that fueled the fire in my gut. She spoke about food just as passionately as I did! She’s perfect.

Without thinking, I quickly said, “I’ll take ten.”

~ (Y/N) P.O.V ~

“Alright, there you go, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs. Have a wonderful day, sir!” I said with a bright smile.

“Please, call me Taishiro. And you are..?” he asked.

I flushed, I’m such a klutz, “(Y/N), pleasure to meet you, Taishiro. I hope you enjoy them and come back to visit m...us! Come visit us again!” I hastily fixed my wording.

As he smiled and waved goodbye, I rolled the tension out of my shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. It’s okay, he was nice...and cute...and...really handsome. Wow, I am I sweating?

“HOLY CRAP!” I jumped as I heard Tammy squeal out behind me, I spun around to look at her standing in the doorway to the back, watching the leaving guest with an awestruck face.

“What?! Where’s the fire?!” I shouted running up to her, grabbing the edge of my apron.

“(Y/N), look at me,” she grabbed my shoulders and forced me to stare into her hazel eyes, “Do you know who that was?”

I shrugged my shoulders as best as I could under her vice grip, “A customer, right?”

“A custom--ugh, curse you for not keeping up with the media,” she yelled while flinging her arms to the sky in exasperation before shoving them back on my shoulders, “(Y/N), that wasn’t just any old customer! That was the FatGum!”

I blinked, “Uh, who?”

“Aarrghh! The rank 58 Pro Hero in Japan! What did you say to him?!” I paled as her words sunk in. My legs felt like jelly and I wanted to lie on the floor and die of embarrassment as she raved on about my ignorance.

‘Oh, so I’ve fallen for a Pro Hero. Awesome.’

~ Timeskip to a few weeks later, same P.O.V ~

Who knew meeting a Pro Hero and potentially having a crush on him could be so amazing? After Taishiro, who is apparently a hero named FatGum, left the store, he personally posted on his main platform of media about the shop and how incredible the desserts were! Of course, to get a compliment from a hero who's Quirk is literally based around food, who’s eaten hundreds of thousands of different dishes, for him to specifically point out your’s brought the media swarming. Business went from nearly dead to tons of people coming in at all open hours! It was fantastic, and the handsome gentleman kept his promise of continually coming in and buying heaps of pastries.

You sighed, leaning against the marble counter after helping a few beautiful ladies buy some tarts, watching their desirable, attractive forms leave the shop and walk past the window. Looking around the busy lounge area, all of the customers were stunning, unique, and most of all thin. You glanced down at yourself, insecurities filling your mind about your appearance and unsurprisingly flickering back to the man plaguing your thoughts. You poked the chub, would he? No. He probably already has someone and even if he didn’t, why would he go for you? You’re a no one to him, someone who just sells him baked goods to fuel his Quirk, nothing more.

“Hey, boss man, what’s up?” Asher, a friend and employee of yours, asked while spinning you away from the counter to face him, drawing Tammy’s attention from her place on the stool behind the counter.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Asher. Just distracted is all, I’m fine!” you sighed and faked a smile.

Asher pulled a skeptical look and without looking at Tammy he said, “She’s thinking about him again, isn’t she?”

Tammy, like it was her sixth sense to pick up on gossip, flung herself to Asher’s side with the same skeptical look, “Yep, it’s so obvious.”

“I-It is?!” you yelped, pulling your hands up to your cheeks to hide your growing blush.

“What are we gonna do about them, Tam?” he asked, still not looking at her but instead grabbing your chin and tiling your head from side to side to inspect you.

“I don’t know what else to do, Ash. He so likes her back but both are too scared to make the first move. Truly a dilemma.” she said, twirling a lock of your (H/C) hair.

“Wait, he does?! How do you know?” you pleaded but they weren’t paying any attention to you anymore, making you puff out your pudgy cheeks in frustration. Opting to ignore them, you listened to the aimless chatter of the seating area. The ambiance of the confectionery made you smile because it was exactly how you’d pictured it as a little girl, the sweet smells, the laughter, it finally felt like home after all these years in the making. All your hard work was paying off in the end. Suddenly, the ringing bells of the door opening drew your attention. Glancing back, you caught a glimpse of a familiar yellow and orange clad figure whose head almost touched the ceiling. You gasped and shoved your friends off of you and to the backroom, spun around, and greeted your favorite customer with a bashful smile.

“Taishiro! How lovely to see you again,” but you quickly noticed it wasn’t just him. Two teenage boys, one with striking red hair and a warm smile and the other trembling and hiding inside of his cloak’s hood, were by FatGum’s side, which made you ask, “And who is this with you?”

“(Y/N), this is Eijirou Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki, they are training under me for hero internships. I wanted to bring them here so they could try your wicked sweets!” he finished, making you blush even harder.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, FatGum! It’s a pleasure to meet you, boys.” you finished, holding out your hand for them to shake.

The red-headed boy, Kirishima, shook your hand with a gentle, but strong grip, “Same here! I’ve heard all about this place because of the news, sorry I couldn’t come sooner!”

“Oh, that’s alright, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Tamaki.” you held out your hand, but all you got from him was a curt nod as he shrunk further into his suit.

“You’ll have to forgive, Amajiki, he’s sort of shy.” Taishiro chuckled, rubbing his hand behind his head.

You pulled your hand back with an understanding smile, “No problem, I totally get social anxiety. Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”

“No way,” you suddenly heard Tammy mumble behind you, no doubt to Asher, “He brought his kids to see her. Did not expect that. I respect the flex.”

“Isn’t that a little far for first base material?” Asher whispered back to her. You proceeded to shoot them a terrifying glare and subtly kick both of them in the shins, a symbol for them to scram. They gulped and hobbled off to the back to avoid your wrath while you huffed and whipped your hair out of your face with a smile.

“Anyways, since the three of you are here, what would you boys like? It’s on the house!” you confidently boasted.

Taishiro gasped, “(Y/N), no. I can’t do that to you, we’ll pay.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Taishiro. You are by far the most paying of customers and since you’re my favorite of all I want to give this to you. Call it, uh, thank you present for all the publicity you’ve given my store! I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” you grinned.

He sighed and, though it could have been your imagination, blushed a little, “At least let me pay for my portion. I get considerably more than them.”

“Nope, it’s already been decided! Kirishima, what would you like?” you changed the topic before Taishiro could argue with you again. He rolled his eyes, clear girl.

“Hmm,” Kirishima thought, “Do you have anything with strawberries?”

“I got just the thing for you. How about a Strawberry Turnover?” you directed him over to the case with the pastry. He took one glance and excitedly nodded his head and you smiled, grabbed the sweet with a clean pair of tongs, placed it on a napkin, and handed it over to the young man. He grinned and shoveled the pastry into his mouth without hesitation.

“Thanks so much, Miss (Y/N)! It’s delicious!” he praised through a mouth full of food, making you giggle at his silliness. Walking back over to the registrar, you saw Tamaki looking at you. When he was caught, he gasped, quickly spun around, and hid himself away from you by pressing into FatGum’s body.

“What would you like, Tamaki?” you patiently asked. Taishiro looked at you with doubt and started saying something but you quickly shushed him and continued to wait for the teen’s answer.

Knowing that you weren’t going to give up, Tamaki quietly mumbled out, “D-D-Do you...have anything with...b-black raspberry? I-If you don’t that’s fine too, I-I didn’t mean to sound too rude or--”

“I believe I do,” you quickly interrupted so he didn’t go into a spiraling haze of self doubt, “Would a Black Raspberry Lychee Cake suffice, Tamaki?”

“Y-Yes, Miss (Y/N)...” he sighed in relief, glancing at you with tears in his eyes. You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed the treat for him, handing it to FatGum so he could hold on to it for Tamaki.

“And now, what’ll you have, kind stranger?” you grinned as he chuckled.

“I’ll take my usual then, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs, please.” he concluded while giving a sweet grin.

You snarked, “You always get the same thing every time, Taishiro. Don’t you wanna try anything else? I promise they’re poisoned.” you smirked.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Are you sure about that?” he joked.

“Taishiro! What kind of business would I be if I poisoned all my guests?” you laughed at him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try something different, ma’am. Do you have anything with pineapple?” he asked with curiosity.

“You betcha. How does a Pineapple Poke Cake sound, sir?” you interrogated. You saw stars glisten in his eyes and you giggled at his excitement.

“How many?” you joked.

“I’ll take 12!” he concluded, blissfully staring off into space.

You packaged up his request in a cutesy (F/C) box with your confectionery’s logo and, biting your lip in apprehension, decided that if he wasn’t going to make his move then you would. You quickly wrote down your phone number on top of the box in Sharpie and signed off your name with a small black heart. As you finished the lettering you stared at the box and thought about your previous insecurities. There was still time, still time to take out the pastries, put them in a new box, and forget the whole number thing ever happened.

“Hey, don’t you dare take out those treats and put them in a new box, you hear me, girl?!” you heard a tiny male voice whisper above you. Startled, you looked up to see Tammy and Asher peeking through the window that let the customers see into the back of the bakery to watch the baking happen. You glared at the two, so they had been watching you try and confess your feelings to the fluffy hero in a discreet way.

“What am I supposed to do? What if he doesn’t like me and all the signs I’ve been getting from him are me making up a love story that is never going to happen between us?! What if by doing this I ruin our relationship and he makes sure the business tanks?! This is my life's work and I’m putting it on the line for a stupid chance at love!” you whisper yelled at them, the familiar feeling of fear and pain coursing through your system from previous failed love confessions.

“You really think a sweet man like that is going to make your life’s dream completely fall to pieces?” Tammy questioned and you exhaled, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Then go out there and get yo mans! You have to at least try and snatch that, I have to see my OTP become canon!” she sent a determined glare at you, grabbed the box, shoved it in your hands, spun you around, and pushed your forward. You stumbled and almost tripped onto the floor but caught yourself on the marble counter. Standing up tall, you took a deep breath in and urged your legs to move forward. Getting to the registrar, you smiled at Taishiro and the boys and handed over the box to FatGum after giving a subtle cough.

“Thank you for everything, Taishiro, you’ve helped me in ways you could never imagine. Now, I hope you boys come back sometime!” you spoke to the teens, Kirishima grinning at you with his shark-like teeth.

“Will do, Miss (Y/N)! I couldn’t stay away from this place even if I tried, your desserts are the BOMB!” he laughed, punching his fists together in excitement.

“...Thank you, Miss (Y/N).” Tamaki shyly whispered, giving you half a grin before cowering away once more.

“Don’t mention it, loves! Now, Taishiro, remember that I said this is on the--whoa! Are you okay?” you asked the man. His face was almost as red as his student’s hair, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at the top of the box, where your number neatly sat. You gulped, maybe it was the wrong decision after all.

Waving a nervous hand in front of Taishiro’s face, it seemed to break him from his spellbound state as he glanced at your eyes, “Are you...feeling okay, Taishiro?”

He looked at you with a shaken gaze as he laughed off his nerves while saying, “Y-Yeah! Just, um...yeah...you...let’s go, boys! Gotta get back to the patrol! Bye, (Y/N)!” he said while ushering the confused boys away from the counter and to the door. You felt your heart shatter into dozens of pieces as you turned your head down to conceal your sorrowed expression from the rest of the lounge area. You felt your eyes wet with tears but you used the sleeve of your white button down you dry them, you have to stay strong. At least you got it off your chest. Sniffling, you turned your head back up only to see FatGum’s face, only he was suddenly a lot more chiseled in the face and body and wow, did it just get hot in here?

“I forgot one thing.” he said with a flustered smile. You, less heartbroken then before just more confused, shrugged your shoulders in question. He then grasped your shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and planted a loving and firm kiss on your right cheek. You felt your face melt into a puddle of red as he held the kiss for a few seconds longer than anticipated but eventually released your cheek, staring back at you with the same expression as you.

“Did you really think I was going to leave without paying you back, cream puff?” he chuckled with a grin.

“I-I, um…” no longer sorrowed, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that he most definitely liked you back.

“Heh, you’re cute when you’re flustered for me. I’ll text you later, okay? Keep on the look out for me!” he said, backing up from the counter, only to grow immensely in size as he returned to the state you had met the hero in. He waved goodbye as he walked back to Kirishima who was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

“Congratulations on the relationship, Miss (Y/N)!” the teen sang out as the three of them left the store to patrol the streets for their hero duties once again.

The entire restaurant was silent as they watched your chubby form turn into a puddle of emotions and ditzy giggles, the only thing that was heard was a loud, “YES! IT’S CANON, BABY!”

~ The End ~

#mha #bnha #mha oneshot #fluff #fanfiction #oneshot #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum #x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #fatgum x reader #kirishima #eijirou kirishima #tamaki #tamaki amajiki #chubby #chubby reader #x chubby reader #x baker reader

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shsldepressedlesbian · 3 years

Note

for the smut ask meme,,, maybe 74 with komahina? 😳 👉👈 (with bottom hajime bc that shits hot)

74: "Wow, I think you're blushing even redder than that vibrator inside you."

ao3

ah, yes, bottom!hajime... i was expecting and hopeful towards this HDHDHDH

please allow me to apologize for the wait 🙇‍♂️ there was one paragraph i had to write that im ashamed to say took me a good time to hype myself up to do JDJSJJS either way i hope u enjoy this!! even tho its been forever so im worried you might not get a chance to see this 😔

“So, it’s fine, right?”

Had he not grown used to it, Hinata would have been disturbed at the nonchalant grin on Komaeda’s face compared to his own already feeling incredibly hot at the very sight of the silicone object he held in hand.

...He really shouldn’t get flustered over this, however. Afterall, he’s already agreed and talked about this beforehand.

A simple discussion about Komaeda wishing to get a chance to use a vibrator on him. And of course, Hinata had agreed, finding it only fair with how many times he’s used one Komaeda.

And yet…

The one Komaeda holds is a simple penetrative kind, definitely new, with a noticeable red color. It certainly was far from large- but bigger then what Hinata had initially expected.

Perhaps he had just been expecting one of the small, stringed ones. Though, maybe a bigger one would be better…

As though sensing his hesitance, Komaeda falters. "Well, of course, if you changed your mind, we don't have to-"

"NO," Hinata interrupts, only to immediately bite his tongue at just how loud he had accidentally been. "No, it's fine. We've… already gotten me ready, anyhow."

Right. If he could handle Komaeda's dick and nonstop teasing, he could handle something as simple as this. Besides, he doesn't want to drag this out for too long.

Komaeda pauses for a second, before regaining his smile. "Ah, excellent, then. Could you… spread your legs for me, again, Hinata-kun?"

Another wave of embarrassment briefly hits Hinata at the request. It's not even that lewd- in fact, it should be expected- but that doesn't stop him from averting eye contact with Komaeda as he obeys, allowing his knees to fall apart and become exposed. In order to become more comfortable, he finally lays down on his back, pressing his head against the pillows below him.

He doesn't have to look at Komaeda to tell his expression, but in a way, that only gets his face to heat up again, turning his head away even more. Unfortunately, on his back, he can't bury his face in the pillows fully like he usually does.

Hinata bites his lip when he finally feels the head of the toy push against his lube-slicked entrance, but can't keep in the shaky, quiet gasp when it's being pushed further in him.

It… really is a different sensation. Completely different from the ones they had sometimes used on his outer body or, of course, Komaeda's cock.

It's cold from it's material and the coat of lube Komaeda had lathered on it, and while it doesn't hurt, it doesn't feel good yet, either.

"If it gets too much, you'll warn me, right?" His boyfriend asks, his warm voice already enough to get Hinata to calm down. Ah, he was the one who was making too much of a deal about this- of course, he could trust Komaeda. If it hurt, he'd pull it out in a second.

But instead of saying anything, Hinata merely nods, closing his eyes and instinctively holding his breath. He probably looks pathetic, like that, however, and so he brings his arms up to further cover his eyes from view.

Komaeda, at first, is incredibly gentle, like always. Pushing it in bit by bit, occasionally stopping whenever Hinata gave a noticeably rough shudder.

Still, Hinata isn't sure how much he can handle even that, considering it only seems to drag on the event, making the toy feel much longer than it actually is.

As though having read his mind, Komaeda, who also seemed to be kind of impatient, easily thrusted the rest of the toy into Hinata, all the way up to the hilt.

This doesn't go without a reaction, as at the unexpected fast pressure, Hinata let out a gasp, digging his nails into his own arms, having forgotten he didn't have them on the sheet.

There's a second of silence, as he gets used to the deep intrusion, before Komaeda gives a hesitant, "are you okay?"

Hinata once again responds with only a nod. Despite him having not expected it, it hadn't hurt, per say- but it still felt a little strange, and uncomfortable.

Or, so it did, before he distinctly felt Komaeda grab the hilt, gently dragging the toy out, and before Hinata can object, quickly pushing it back in, brushing his prostate head on.

Another cry leaves his throat, as his arms leave his face in order to properly grasp the pillow beneath him- only to catch sight of Komaeda's face, who looks as though he's finding the greatest possible joy from this, face dusted with red but focusing intently on Hinata's body, flickering from his face to see his reactions to his entrance and at his psychical reactions.

At the sheer arousement of his gaze, Hinata once again covered his face with an arm, heat and embarrassment filling his senses.

Komaeda, however, merely chuckles at this.

"Aha, sorry, was that too much?" His voice is as cheerful as usual, but it has a certain undertone to it Hinata could only describe as sultry. "I just wanted to make sure I memorised all those spots correctly. Afterall, with these kinds of things, you sort of need to do the whole 'back and forth' to get the most pleasure. At least, that's how it is for me."

Hinata can't get any words out of his throat, and so he once again responds simply, this time with a small grumble. Komaeda seems to also find humor in this.

"Here, Hinata-kun," and he takes a hold of the arm Hinata was using to cover his face, pushing it out of the way.

Hinata had kept his eyes open this time, and in this position, he had no choice but to make eye contact with Komaeda. He doesn't find it much fair that he looked much more stable then himself, aside from the obvious arousal.

In fact, he looks almost amused, and Hinata is reminded of why exactly he enjoyed keeping his head buried in pillows.

"Wow," is his unneeded observant, "I think you're blushing even redder than that vibrator inside you."

This is what finally seems to get the words out of Hinata, somehow finding it in himself to be peeved despite the current situation. "Well, obviously, you ass," he objects, covering Komaeda's face with his hand, though not with enough pressure to actually push him away, much less hurt him. "When you do shit like this, I…"

"Aha, are you actually peeved at me?" Luckily Komaeda didn't take the wrong idea from this, merely grabbing ahold of the hand used to block him and entwining it with his own, in order to properly pin it beside Hinata's head. "Apologies, then. It's hard for me not to tease you when your reactions are so… cute."

Ah, that word again. With how many times he's used it when they're together like this, Hinata would figure it was one of Komaeda's favorite words.

He opens his mouth to say something, though he's not sure exactly what yet, only for Komaeda to seize that opportunity to bring their mouths together.

It's embarrassing just how easily Hinata finds himself melting into the kiss, allowing himself to shut his eyes and fully revel in the feeling of their tongues together.

It's undignified and sloppy, but it's enough to get him into a bit of haze, to the point where when Komaeda pulls away and warns that he's going to "turn it on", he isn't quite sure what he means until it's too late.

Luckily, Komaeda starts the toy at an incredibly low pace, but with it still being pushed against his prostate, Hinata still reacts wildly, giving out a strangled noise as he tilts his head up.

Right. How did he forget it was a VIBRATOR?

The feeling is almost completely foreign, the faint buzz that courses through him surprisingly pleasurable, compared to the previous uncomfortableness he had felt before.

"Good?" Comes Komaeda's almost concerned voice, Hinata hearing it only distinctly.

"Yeah," he manages, his voice already slightly strained, and he almost considers just shutting up when he realises it. "Really good."

Encouraged, Hinata feels as Komaeda grabs onto the hilt of the toy, before slowly pushing and thrusting it in, bit by bit.

Hinata had his eyes squeezed shut so hard he was practically seeing patterns. He keeps a hand to his mouth, as though trying to muffle any more noises from his mouth, but for the most part, failing.

Even just this is overwhelming, Komaeda purposely brushing past all his sensitive parts, but the vibrations still hitting them dead on.

And when Komaeda tests pushing up the intensity level, it only has Hinata writhing more, abandoning the idea of covering his mouth in favor of grabbing onto the sheets beneath him.

"Fuck," He exclaims, squinting open his eyes only enough to make out a blurry view of the ceiling, "good, that feels good, Komaeda-"

And all at once, when it feels like it was going to go for another amp, the pleasure stops as the vibrations suddenly turn off with a click.

Hinata's eyes suddenly snap open fully, looking through his haze as though seeing would help him find out why it stopped.

"Ah, sorry, sorry," is Komaeda's small apology, and Hinata uses his spare strength to prop himself up on his elbows in order to look at him properly.

While he no doubt looks much worse, Komaeda still looks like a bit of a mess himself, face flushed red and eyes reflecting that of almost desperation.

"It's just that I'm close to my limit too," and he pauses briefly to sit up on his knees, making a point as he slinks his fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down enough to reveal his cock, the tip already dotted with pre cum. A small smile and a low voice asking a simple question of, “can I?”

With how fast he feels his face fluster, Hinata wishes he had just kept himself lying down, but instead reverts to looking away once again. Despite this, he nods, by now probably afraid of his own voice sounding weird.

Well, to be perfectly honest, he had been expecting them to try out the vibrator more, but he wasn’t going to object to doing it the “natural” way. It really wasn’t a big deal, afterall.

And so he gets back in a comfortable position for Komaeda to get on top of him, happily allowing him to bring their mouths together again, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Though the kiss gets more sloppy when Komaeda takes their dicks in one hand, grinding them together in a way that has Hinata moaning into his mouth, though it isn’t as intense as it was when the vibrator was on.

But that quickly changes, when almost out of nowhere, Komaeda uses his free hand to switch back on the toy.

Komaeda was lucky he was wearing a shirt, or Hinata would have definitely scratched him hard enough to bleed, with how hard he clutches onto his short sleeves.

He makes a strangled, loud gasp, that separates the kiss for only a moment, before Komaeda merely deepens it once again.

Overstimulation hits Hinata like a truck, with the frotting that only gets more messy as pre cum spills over themselves, and as Komaeda uses his spare hand to do the “back and forth” that he had before. Combined with the almost suffocating feeling of groaning into each other’s mouths, his head is already getting into that hazy state that only Komaeda can make him feel.

“Nng- ha- Nagi-!” incomprehensible cries spill out of his mouth whenever Komaeda leaves it for a split second in order to take a breath, but never objecting to any of it. Because in that haze is an unfathomable pleasure, whenever Komaeda brushed their tips together, or when the vibrations directly hit his sensitive spots- feelings that are quickly building up to an orgasm.

He knows that Komaeda is getting close too, when he finally breaks their kiss(that was hardly a kiss anymore, but just a wet clambering of tongues), and instead moves to teasing Hinata’s collarbone with nips and sucks, not even bothering to continue thrusting the toy into him. But that’s unneeded anyways, because any lost pleasure is made up for by him turning it up a full notch.

After that, Hinata is most definitely doomed to not last any longer. His instincts take over him, as he digs into both Komaeda’s hair and shirt like it’s a lifeline, toes curling up in the sheets, and all at once, his vision goes blurry.

If he makes any noise in his climax, he doesn’t hear it, and he briefly thinks that he must have passed out with just how hard he had come.

When he regains his senses after what feels like a half-hour, his breaths are heavy, barely registering Komaeda in a similar state on top of him. He does, however, register the feeling of the vibrator still buzzing inside him, but by now, it’s just uncomfortable. He reaches a shaky hand to shut it off, but Komaeda beats him to it, and with a small click, he finally feels relieved.

They stay in that state for what feels like hours, before Komaeda finally speaks up, his voice still exhausted.

“So, ha, how was it?”

Hinata opens his mouth to respond, but he can’t find the right to say, so he merely let a single word spill out of his throat; “Wow.”

Had he had the strength, he probably would have lightly hit the top of Komaeda’s head when he heard his giggle ring in his ears.

#pineapple writes #unsafe #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #komahina #confusement and betrayal: komahina

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julilihatfun · 4 years

Note

Prompty prompt: Geralt is really struggling in a battle and Jaskier can't just stand by and watch anymore, so he goes up there and kinda saves Geralt, giving him the chance to finally kill the monster...BUT Jaskier is hurt in the process which he doesn't want to admit, being the hero for the first time. He hides it until he just passes out and Geralt takes care of him, mad at himself for letting the bard get hurt, but also thankful. Sorry it's not very original, but hope you like it!

Prompt request: Jaskier hits his head and is concussed and ends up moody, disoriented, and uncoordinated, maybe a bit nauseous, but Geralt never saw him hit his head and has to find out through a careful insoection when he realizes his travelling companion is acting strangely.

Hey guys - sorry for disappearing for a while :( Everything is just really overwhelming at the moment and well :((( but I hope you enjoy this and I really hope, that you are safe and well!!! (I combined two prompts for this, because it kind of seemed fitting)

----------------------------------------------------------------

Jaskier watched Geralt fight – at first, in awe (as always, because honestly: how can one fight so ferociously while looking that graceful), but then in concern, because the Witcher seemed to be in trouble. And that was something that Jaskier had never seen before.

The giant creature loomed over Geralts head – all bloodthirsty and monster-like – while Geralt frantically scrambled away from it and towards the heavy iron sword that had been smacked away from him a few moments earlier.

“Geralt!”, Jaskier screamed and he sounded hysterical and panicked, but he did not care at all. This was a literal nightmare come to life.

“Stay down!”, Geralt roared, not even looking at the bard, because he was too busy dodging attack after attack.

And it did not look like the beast was getting tired. Which, in turn, meant, that staying down was not an option if he wanted Geralt to actually survive this shit.

He did not even have to think about it then – just jumped up and out of his hiding place with a loud, screechy screaming noise, that kind of betrayed his fear, and stumbled towards the fight.

He seemed to be much less interesting than Geralt (highly offensive, if you asked him – he did not wear those ridiculously colourful outfits to be ignored like this), because the huge thing did not even take one eye away from Geralts prone form.

Geralt screamed at him to ‘get the fuck back’, while Jaskier searched the forest ground for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon. He had to be fast, because Geralt seemed to come no closer to gaining back control over the fight.

“Aha!”, he cheered, when he finally found something that could work.

And throwing a stone at the creature really did seem to finally do the trick, because it suddenly turned on Jaskier in an alarming speed.

“Oi!”, Jaskier bellowed, tripping over his own feet in an effort to get away faster. “Stop.”

He was not fast enough, of course, because he felt the thing yank his feet out from under him, making him fall hard. His head was catapulted forward in a sickening motion and bounced off of the moist ground, which definitely hurt a lot.

Jaskier turned around, seeing stars dance around his vision, just in time to see Geralt (who apparently was much faster than Jaskier) bring his sword down on the beast’s neck, effectively separating its ugly head from its massive body.

Jaskier barely had enough time to roll away when the thing started falling towards him and felt the ground shake beneath him, when the monsters mutilated form came down right next to him.

He stared at the beast for a long moment in silent wonder, then his gaze swept to Geralt, who was already staring at him.

“I take partial credit for this one.”, he said then, shakily, moving to pull himself up on a nearby tree.

Geralt huffed, still eying him grimly. He growled out a clipped: “That was incredibly dumb.”, which made the bard gasp in mock-hurt.

“Geralt how dare you? I practically saved your life back there! – quite heroically, if I dare say so myself.”, Jaskier snapped back jokingly. And he knew that he would have handled the situation better had he known even the most basic fighting techniques, but he did not have any skills and stuff somehow still worked out, so he felt pretty proud of himself.

Geralt closed his eyes in frustration and heaved out a heavy sigh, before surprising Jaskier with a grumbled: “I did not say that you did not save my life.” Geralt threw him a stern look. “But that does not make it any less stupid.”

Jaskier practically glowed with glee and pride. “I can already envision the glorious ballad! Brave Jaskier, the humble bard, fearlessly throwing himself into the raging battle of-“

“Jaskier.”

“Yeah?”

“You threw a stone.” Jaskier actually saw the bastards mouth twitching in the effort to hide a grin. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Hey! I threw that stone very bravely!”

Geralt actually huffed out a small laugh then, but when he took in the bards disgruntled clothes, smeared with dirt and grime, his face grew serious again. “You went down pretty hard. You hurt anywhere?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Warriors don’t get hurt.”

“You broke a toe dancing last month.”, Geralt noted dryly. “Well, come to think of it, I guess you did not get hurt as you’d already be whining about it if you did.”

“Hey, that toe-thing hurt.”, Jaskier pouted. “I normally am very pain resistant.”

“Sure are.”

And they left it at that. Although Jaskier knew how immensely grateful Geralt really was, when he offered him a spot on Roach (which Jaskier, obviously, happily accepted).

Riding, for some weird reason, made Jaskier kind of dizzy, so he could barely force down three bites of his stew, before he surrendered and pushed his plate towards Geralt.

“Can you get horse sick?”, he asked dreamily and immediately felt Geralts boring stare on him. He looked up. “What?”

“You’re sick?”, Geralt inquired suspiciously, having been wary ever since Jaskier fell oddly silent as soon as they had mounted Roach.

“I never said that.”, Jaskier exclaimed defensively. “It’s probably the adrenaline wearing off.”

“Hm.”

“Nothing a good pint of ale won’t be able to fix, right? And a good night’s sleep – we should really think about sleeping in real beds more often. You know, to get proper rest and socialize instead of wasting away in the forest.”, Jaskier rambled on, desperate to change the subject in order to not have Geralt on his case all week because of a bit on an upset stomach.

“Hm.”

“Spoilsport.”

They separated for the night shortly after; Geralt immediately retreating to their shared room and Jaskier spending some time wooing the small audience with carefully composed songs and mirror-practiced charms. Though, Jaskier did call it a night unusually early too, having promised himself that healing sleep will free him from all ailments that came with kind-of fighting alongside Geralt.

And well, he was wrong.

He woke up to a splitting headache.

“Yikes.”, he groaned as he sat up, bringing up both hands to massage his temples.

“Had a drop too much?”

And as Jaskier thought about it, he came to the conclusion, that he actually had no idea how much he drank the evening prior – not the normal blank he drew, when the evening blurred together in a mass of pints and shots and girls and… no, this was a complete memory lapse.

To him, it was annoying more than scary, really.

“Screw you, Geralt.”, Jaskier snapped, because Geralt sounded way too smug for his liking. Also, no matter how hard he tried, he could not draw up a single memory.

“Touchy, aren’t you?”, Geralt asked with an obvious smirk.

Jaskier snorted. “Are we leaving?”, he asked then, when his gaze fell on Geralts packed bags; took in the Witcher’s general impatient demeanour.

“Yeah.”, Geralt confirmed his fears. “Took you long enough to wake.”

He looked at Jaskier for a moment, as if searching for something. “Breakfast is on me.”

Geralt’s way of showing gratitude. Jaskier knew, that he should be immensely happy, but he just felt… kind of weird and muddle-headed. Also, still very nauseous.

“I feel so loved.”, he cheered weakly, mostly out of habit. He could probably stomach some food anyways – most times, it even helped him get over a hangover.

When Jaskier had packed up and they stepped out of the inn and into a small tavern, the smell of freshly cooked eggs and beans wafting their way, Jaskier changed his mind.

“Know what:-“, he choked out, dizzily. “I guess I’m not hungry after all. I’ll just… stay with Roach. Outside.”

“Hm.”, Geralt grunted dangerously. “You barely ate yesterday evening.”

“I’m watching my figure.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt watched the bards face take on a greyish-green hue and he grabbed Jaskiers upper arm roughly, dragging him outside, and nearly pushed him into a bush off the beaten path, away from prying eyes.

“Do what you have to do.”, Geralt said, and it almost sounded compassionate.

“I’m fine.”, Jaskier gulped, despite all logic and appearance. “Jus’ hungover or somethin’.”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously.”, Jaskier mumbled, still breathing heavily in an attempt to fight off the nausea.

“Right.”, Geralt sighed, watching Jaskiers face slowly morph into a more healthy-looking colour. “If you think so.”

“You going back in?”

“No.”, Geralt said, eying Jaskier warily. “Let’s just leave. We can eat later.”

“Alright.”, the bard sighed. His head still hurt and he suddenly felt exhausted. “Let’s, then.”

They walked towards Roach in silence and – unusually enough – it was Geralt who finally broke it, when he strapped his bag onto her back. “You wanna ride with me?”

Just the thought made Jaskier feel terribly ill again. “Hard pass.” He knew that walking would be tough on him too, but there was something distinct to the jostling motion on the horse’s saddle that made it particularly unattractive to him that day.

Geralt eyed him suspiciously. He did not often offer, but when he did, Jaskier never refused.

“You’re acting strange.”, he noted. “Well, more so than usual.”

“Ouch.”, Jaskier said, already a few steps ahead of the Witcher. “I’m great, and you know it.”

So they walked – or well, Jaskier walked. And he kept walking, even when he kept getting dizzier and more disoriented and his head started pounding in earnest.

It was when stars started dancing around his vision, that he knew that he was in real trouble. “Geralt-“, he breathed, hearing his own voice tremble and crack.

And he saw Geralt stop abruptly and turn out of the corner of his eye, before his vision went entirely black.

When Jaskier woke up, the first thing he noticed was his still-pounding head. Then, something weird, wet on his still-pounding head. “Th’fuck.”, he mumbled in disgust, slowly moving to sit up.

“Stay down.”, a low voice growled.

“G’ralt?”

“Don’t want you doing more damage than you already did.”

“Ow.” Jaskier sat up despite Geralts warning because honestly, that’s just the kind of person he was, and one of Geralts old shirts, all wet and bunched up, fell into his lap with a splat. “Huh.”

He heard Geralt sigh. “Stubborn bastard.” Then, Geralts face was only inches away from his own.

“Uh, Geralt.”

“Look at me.” Geralt stared more intently into his eyes.

“You’re scaring me.”, Jaskier mumbled weakly. Focusing on Geralt was exhausting and the sun’s brightness was only making him feel worse.

Geralt straightened up again. “You hit your head yesterday.”

“Is that supposed to be a question?”

“Not if we both know the answer.”

“Right.” Jaskier continued squinting at Geralt. “I might have hit it.”

Geralt let out a big sigh. “Thank you for telling me right away instead of fainting in the middle of our journey.”

Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows (which made his head pound more fiercely, but well: worth it). “Are you… being sarcastic right now?”

“You were out for hours, Jaskier.”, Geralt snarled, clearly signalling that he was not to be joked with right now. “Wouldn’t wake.”

“I…”, Jaskier began, before letting his head fall into his hands. “Can we do this when my head does not feel like it’s splitting in two?”

He felt a warm hand on his back, lowering him back down, before it vanished for a second and returned with Geralts wet shirt, draping it over his face. Jaskier sighed in pleasure. The ground beside his sleeping mat rustled and he felt Geralt lowering himself down next to him.

There was awkward silence where Jaskier would normally chatter away. But he was to achy and tired to do so then.

“I should have noticed earlier.”, he heard Geralt grumble after a while, mostly to himself, as it seemed. He frowned.

“Stop, your self-pity is making my head hurt.”

“Your concussion is making your head hurt.”

Jaskier sighed, trying to snuggle closer to Geralt in search of comfort. A big hand settled on his shoulder. “Maybe that, yeah.”, he agreed, putting his own hand over Geralts.

The Witcher breathed out a gentle laugh. “Rest, Jaskier.”

#the witcher #Jaskier #Geralt #whump #jaskier whump #hurt/comfort #hurt jaskier #prompts #wow what a time #feeling very worried about the elderly people i work with #literally wake up at night crying about this #oh well #let's hope it gets better soon #and stay home #:(

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