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ashessonfire · 1 year

Note

Hi, I just gotta say I really love your stories and how detailed and eloquent your writing is.How about a Kaz Brekker x reader angst where a heist gone wrong results to Kaz (temporarily) losing his memory and reverting back to old Kaz, who is not in a relationship with reader, and he keeps pushing the reader away 'til reader gives up 'cause of something Kaz said or a scenario where they think Kaz is better without them♡♡♡thank you for listening HAHAHAHA

'Forgotten' - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt - Kaz Brekker's plans rarely fail, but what happens when a heist goes incredibly wrong, and the Bastard of the Barrel forgets you completely? - Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: Depictions of violence, gunshots, Kaz's trauma / memories, Kaz being an asshole but not really his fault??? ANGST ANGST ANGST Part two found here! A/N: Thank you all so much for the amount of support and love i am getting for my first few posts! I will definitely write a part two if you want it, its a massive cliffhanger but would be WAY too long to do it in one go. JUST PURE ANGST IM SORRY T-T

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Kaz’s plans often fell victim to unseen circumstances, however, small hinderances to his meticulously planned out schemes rarely affected the outcome. Yet even Kaz himself had to admit, that this plan had gone spectacularly wrong.

From incorrect blueprints for the building, to four times the number of armed guards than initially expected, all the group could do was try and escape relatively unharmed. The crows were splintered into six breathless individuals, winding their way through narrow streets to try and loosen their attackers’ grips. Sprays of bullets and the glints of knives rushed past each one of them, only narrowly missing their targets.

That was until Kaz felt a searing pain in his leg, a sudden slash just under the back of his knee, sending fire trailing throughout his body. He groaned deeply, internally damning the attacker for not only striking his target, but also managing to hit Kaz on his already bad leg. The pain from the wound caused it to buckle, giving him a clear path straight towards the glistening cobblestone of Ketterdam’s streets.

Before he could fully feel the impact, a hand tightly gripped the roots of his hair, pulling his face parallel to the grinning pursuer, evidently pleased with his achievement of apprehending the Bastard of the Barrel.

Before Kaz could use his cane to fight back, it was violently ripped from his grasp, another set of hands clutching his own behind his back, rendering him completely immobile. Suddenly, the knife was yanked out of his leg, earning a surprised growl from Kaz, his leg leaking onto the stone beneath him a deep ruby shade.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m afraid to say I am more than a little underwhelmed, Dirtyhands,” The leader of the group sneered, earning a howl of laughter from his gang, who seemed to be forming from the shadows of the abandoned street, emerging in staggering numbers.

Despite his predicament, a thought flashed through his mind, calming his increasingly alarmed state. “Perhaps they abandoned the others in favour of catching me,” Kaz silently contemplated, feeling a light sense of relief at the possibility his crew would make it back to the slat alive.

Especially you.

However, the relief was knocked out of him as swiftly as it came, along with all the air in his chest. A brutal kick sent him reeling backwards into the chest of the man behind, followed by a series of punches which Kaz was defenceless against. The assault continued, blood pouring into his eyes from an open wound on his forehead, blinding him to the onslaught of attacks that followed, as he rapidly tried blinking to wash away the crimson from his vision.

The ambush subsided, giving him enough time to throw his head back and remove some of the steadily flowing substance from his sight. Murmurs sounded around him, but Kaz couldn’t decipher what was being stated, the ringing from the punches obscuring the sound around him, leaving him underwater, drowning in his own blood.

Despite Kaz’s senses becoming increasingly obstructed, a flare of panic welled up within him, as he spotted something brassy glinting through the sheet of red, catching the light from the street lanterns surrounding them. The unknown object began its descent towards him, the glint becoming a beam which shone through the curtain of crimson, until it was just close enough for Kaz to make out the flash of a crow’s eye, and the curve of a beak.

“How ironic,” Kaz thought to himself, “Being killed by my own cane.”

The scarlet curtain closed on Kaz, the blow ending the performance the gang was putting on, leaving their victim in a world full of darkness, the feeling of the waves washing over him and pulling him deeper into the abyss.

The last thing he heard was the sound of a voice.

Jordie’s?

The concern that radiated from the sound brought him back to memories of the farm, where Kaz would climb too far up a willow’s branches, and his brother would have to call him down. Or perhaps when they had arrived in Ketterdam and Kaz had thought it comedic to hide in a dimly lit street, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in its gloom.

However, as Kaz slipped deeper into the ocean, the voice getting further away with each of his slowing heartbeats, a tinge of warmth hit his chest, signalling that this wasn’t Jordie.

It was you.

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Your adrenaline had served you well, since shortly after you were separated from the crows, familiar edges of buildings and glints of neighboring signs entered your vision. Using this to your advantage, you utilized your familiarity of the area to hide, slipping into the shadows, melting into the gloom of Ketterdam's alleys. Soon, all five of your pursuers had bullets lodged in their throats unable to pinpoint where they were being shot from. Each fatal blow perfectly central just as Jesper had taught you.

Whilst your mind began to settle at the lack of immediate threat, something burred within your core pulled on your heartstrings, pointing your unsettling fear towards Kaz.

You had taken great care to note which routes the other crows had disappeared down, for insurance if they did not return to the slat within the agreed time. However, as you fled, your heart had plummeted at the sight of at least ten men chasing down your boyfriend.

Before your mind could register your actions, you were sprinting back in the direction you had come, weaving through the bodies littering your path. You quickly reached the alley Kaz had fled down, and you bolted through the streets you estimated Kaz would take.

As he was your boyfriend, you had become accustomed to imagining what he would do, or how he would act in certain situations, helping you decode his behaviour when he barricaded himself from you on troublesome days.

The sound of bone cracking and pained grunts pulled you away from your thoughts, turning a sharp corner just in time to see the head of Kaz’s precious cane colliding with his temple, the light visibly fading from his eyes due to the blow.

Rage swept through you, controlling your actions as your mind failed to synchronise with your body. Rushing forward, you shot wildly, achieving at least three separate screams from the men before you. Before the others were made fully aware of your presence, you had a serrated knife plunging into a further two, leaving fatal wounds which would slowly bring about their demise. Once every one of group were flooding the streets with their blood, your gaze shifted to Kaz.

Lying in a growing pool of blood, your boyfriend’s face was swollen, covered in deep gashes that littered his sharp features. The dim light from the lanterns overhead cast murky shadows over the wounds, highlighting the gruesome fate Kaz had endured. From somewhere far in the distance, you heard your voice screaming his name, begging for him to wake up, at some point you had even rushed over to him and began caressing his fractured face to wake him.

Allowing a deep inhale of Ketterdam’s air, you collected yourself, imagining that Kaz were conscious and scolding you for your slow reactions and the ‘weakness’ you were portraying. Laying your head against his frigid chest, you held your own breath, only releasing the growing tension when a faint heartbeat pounded against your ear.

Silently apologising for your next actions, you hooked both of Kaz’s arms underneath your own and used all your force to haul him back to the Slat.

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For several days following the attack, the group had come to a collective conclusion that their boss was severely concussed, so much so that he was barely conscious for more than a few minutes at a time.

Throughout the harrowing days, you never left his side, constantly aiding his body in a frail attempt to bring him back to the conscious realm, and to you.

The crows stopped by often to assist you, compelled to keep at least one half of the pair in a decent condition, Nina bringing hot food, Inej wiping down your face with a warm cloth, and Jesper or Wylan keeping you company for an hour or so, brightening the mood wit =h jokes or stories.

Time seemed almost to cease its movements, with even the smallest of things, like the rain rolling down the frosted glass in Kaz’s room, or the flickering of the candles illuminating the slat, appearing sluggish to you.

That was, only until Kaz woke up.

A bout of coughs awoke you from a light sleep, sending alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing off the walls and overwhelming you. Upon seeing the straining eyes blinking against the intensity of the candlelight, the roar swiftly subsided.

“Kaz,” you breathed out, barely audible to both you and him.

You gently reached out to feel the heat from his forehead, an action not dissimilar to the gentle brushes of his locks you would often settle on when he was too engrossed in scheming to provide you attention. However, your movements were stopped dead in their tracks when a voice sliced through the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kaz seethed.

Although his voice was hoarse from his absence over the last few days, a clear threat laid deeply within his sentence, piercing your chest with a thousand knives. “Kaz, I’m just checking your temperature, my love,” you offered gently, praying to the Saints that whatever malice behind your partners eyes was due to his condition, and not a genuine fury.

Instead of removing the knives from your heart, he twisted them painfully, glaring directly at you as he warned lowly, “I am not sure how long I have been out for, but I severely doubt it would be enough time for a word like ‘love’ to be directed towards me. Especially by the likes of you. Go and get Nina, you are of no use to me.”

Your breath hitched painfully in your throat, blocking the air trying to travel both in and out, glittering eyes locked directly with his as your mind struggled to process the disgust that laced his voice. Your body battled as it tried to force another ‘Kaz’ out into the world, but he intruded before the sound escaped.

“Leave now, or I will dismiss you for insubordination. Go,” Kaz stated, bitterness being the only discernible emotion portraying through his words, his chest filling with an emotion so strong he couldn’t name it, deciding to settle on disgust. Your eyes welled up, clouding your vision as you cautiously left the room, shock coursing through your body and stiffening your every movement, causing shivers to wrack your body as your blood froze to ice.

Your mind seemed to leave your body, taking little note of going to Nina and sending her up to Kaz, or the other crows fawning over your broken state, clearly panicking further when your only form of response was a stiff silence. It seemed safer to hide behind glossy eyes and blank looks, than to decipher what had caused Kaz’s reaction.

It was only an hour later when Nina came downstairs, shaking you out of your daze with words that did a far more agonizing job than Kaz’s knives would.

She downright shot you point blank in the heart.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, it seems like the blow has affected his memory. I can’t tell the severity yet, but it seems that he has no recollection of you two as, well you know. ‘You two,’” Nina bit out, voice cracking as her heart shattered for you, who now stood shaking before the group, the slightest breeze threatening to barrel you over.

You dismissed them with a fractured smile, barring yourself within the confines of your room, knives drawing blood within your heart, twisting excruciatingly each time a shuffle or a creak would sound from the room above yours.

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Your perseverance impressed not only the rest of the crows, but yourself too. You didn’t allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for long, determined to regain Kaz’s memory despite his protests and frustration with you. You had already molded a loving relationship with the deadliest man in Ketterdam, you figured that you would be able to withstand doing it once more.

Enduring the blade-like words was the simplest part, however it was the emotion behind them that faltered you each time you were faced with him. He always his behind a face of insults or harsh syllables, but you had decoded their meanings long ago, the sentiment behind each radiating through in a way in which only you could detect.

As he recovered, you remained vigilant to his every need, bringing him herbal tea infused with medicine or offering fresh bandages to change when the blood seeped through the last.

Each encounter ended with tears streaming drearily down your face, matching the raindrops that hit against the pains of the slat, each impact slamming against your heart. As you persisted, the feeling Kaz felt towards you grew, the emotion intensifying with each glimpse at you.

He couldn't stand it.

Rage bubbled within him at your attempts at kindness, the insults increasing in harshness and malice each time you dared to provoke him.

Yet you bounced back, offering him delicate smiles, compassionate gestures, and kind words. However Kaz couldn't bear it any longer, the weight in his chest obscuring his breathing and brooding for too long, consuming him from the inside out.

Despite his unbroken hatred that radiated towards you, he seemed to gradually be regaining his memories, allowing Jesper's jokes or Nina's teasing to go as far as they would before the accident. It caused you great anguish, and shamefully jealousy, at his return to every one of his crows.

But you.

The door to his office was given a light few taps, before Kaz permitted you entry, knowing from the weight of the knocks it had to be you. Although the others seemed far more wary of him than usual, there was something almost gentle about how you acted towards him, making it easier for Kaz to single you out from the rest.

You entered with a stack of papers, a vast collection of work that had accumulated whilst he regained his health. Biting back his usual snarky insults and remarks dripping in poison, Kaz watched you intently, deadly intentions practically radiating from his gaze.

Setting down the pile, you stepped back silently, too exhausted to bear the weight of another one of his lashings, each word cutting you and leaving you bleed out, not dissimilarly to how you found him that night.

The silence in his office was impenetrable, the air becoming impossible to breath through the tension that radiated between you, with only one of you being able to decipher what it truly was. Your mind was so focused on the intake of air, you almost missed the hand that extended towards you, the closest he had allowed you since his memory had stolen you from him.

Clutched in his grasp was a simple white letter, signatures coating the outside of the envelope, and something folded, protruding from within the packet itself.

The silence became deafening, the pounding of your heart like a bird trapped in a cage infinitely too small for its prisoner, crashing into the walls in an attempt to escape. As your hand made contact with the offering, Kaz spoke in a tone you had never heard before.

He simply stated, "From tomorrow, at four bells, you will be gone. A job in Ravka requires someone of your skillset, so you will go. If you fail to comply then you will no longer be welcomed here. I have tolerated your incessant troubling for long enough, you have no true place here until you finally realize how burdensome you truly are."

Your heart stopped.

The air around you liquified, slowly filling your lungs with fluid and choking you, drowning you silently as Kaz looked on with an indifferent scowl, an eyebrow raised in question at your astonishment.

The tears streamed, your body screaming for air, for comfort, for him. But it couldn't seem to attain any one of them, instead pushing all its strength into forming the the right words to pierce Kaz Brekker's impenetrable façade.

"You still don't remember?" you coughed out, "After the incident who was it who rushed back to you, dragged your half-dead body across the Barrel and into the slat. Who stayed by your side until they were forced to leave each night? Do you not have any recollection, not of the memories, but of how you felt for me? Surely I didn't mean that little to you," your voice wavered heavily whilst you gasped out the final line.

The tears formed rugged streams across your cheeks, glinting in the dim candlelight from Kaz's desk, highlighting the pain you had hidden from him for weeks. It was now his turn to be stunned, the words echoing around his mind but not seeming to form into coherent meanings.

Despite Kaz's astonishment at your outburst, it wasn't enough.

Wasn't enough for him to stop you from walking away, or enough to whisper your name louder in confusion and uncertainty as your form dissolved into the hallway .

Surely this was what he was supposed to do?

Yet deep inside his plagued heart your words resounded, filling Kaz with a sense of dread, the waves that usually consumed him began to swell, drowning him in his seat just as he had done to you earlier.

He was certain on one thing, that the gaping pain in his chest which he had presumed was disgust, or perhaps even hatred, had not disappeared. Had not lightened as he had prayed it would if you just vanished.

No. Instead it had intensified into something that swallowed him whole, dragging him further into the bitter ocean than ever before, waves crashing fiercely above his head.

The emotion consumed him as his breathing deepened, heart both simultaneously stopping and racing into oblivion, as it finally dawned on him. Somewhere within that feeling a small spark remained glowing, something that felt warm and familiar which he had repressed.

Something that resembled care, or affection, or...

Love.

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Tag list: @animalistic00 @whos6claire

Click here for part two <3

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #kaz brekker x reader fluff #ashessonfire

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runa-falls · 6 months

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lost

summary: sweet steven gets lost in the moment then apologies because he thinks he went too far...

cw: explicit (18+), slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, degrading words, oral (m receiving), rough handling, soft aftercare/apologies, FLUFF (WHERE TF DID THAT COME FROM???)

a/n: i keep thinking ab this thot, but i never posted it as a fic so i have a hard time finding it lol. so im just gonna put it up for my own reasons...

masterlist

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it took steven a few moments to get used to your touch again. he already came in your hand, overwhelmed by your soft touch and adoring coos, just wanting to be the best boy for you even if it meant cumming in just a handful of minutes.

and though he protested, hips bucking with whines of overstimulation, he couldn't stop you from warming him in your mouth until he got hard again.

now, he is thoroughly using your mouth, pushing in harshly until your lips meet the base of his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat. your eyes water as he continues to press in deep, tears glazing over your blown out pupils before they slide down your cheeks and onto his bare thighs.

he goes feral when he sees it, when he feels your warm tears pool on his sensitized skin. your dripping red eyes look up at him, begging for his praise, and he can't look away. your puffy lips are wrapped perfectly around him.

he uses both hands to hold your head steadily, fingers threading at the base of your hair as he snaps his hips against your face, fucking you harsh and deep like he would your cunt.

his eyes squeeze shut and brows cinch together as he feels your slick hot throat struggle to keep up with his pace. he loves the way you moan around him, how the vibrations travel from your throat to his cock, coaxing him to the edge in record time.

his movements stutter when you attempt to swallow around him, he wasn't prepared for how tight your throat would get. his hands fist tight at your hair to keep him from cumming too soon, desperately holding on to this feeling of pure ecstasy for as long as possible.

he's lost in pleasure when calls you needy and pathetic, his voice raspy and breathless, as if he isn't begging for it himself. he chides you for how desperately you need his cum to fill your throat, how greedy you are to suck him off right after he came.

he cums with a groan, holding you close so he can spill deep at the back of your throat. you swallow obediently, releasing his cock from your mouth with a sigh. you sniffle, still recovering from how rough he was being, not that you minded. you love when steven loses control. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, cum and saliva thickly coated over your lips and chin.

your jaw is supremely sore, not used sucking him off for more than one round, but the pain instantly subsides when you look at your ruined boyfriend heaving in front of you. he looks so ravaged with his flushed cheeks and fluffy hair. who knew a sweet, gentle man like steven could be so depraved?

his eyes barely flutter open when he hears you get up and place yourself on his lap. you cuddle against him, face smooshing against the crook of his neck. he hums, wrapping an arm around you, exhausted, but happy you're near.

he hears you sniffle again and pulls back from your body.

"darling, are you ok?" his eyes were gushing with concern as he attempted to wipe away any residual tears.

"yeah--" you croak out.

oh, you sound terrible. you try to clear your throat, wincing slightly when it elevates the soreness of your throat.

"i-i'm fine, steven." your voice wavers a little bit, but you still smile up at him.

steven looks at you like you're insane and he shakes his head, "i-i think i went to hard."

"n-no, i liked it!"

"sweetheart, i can barely hear what you're saying. i think i've messed up your throat!"

"steven, i wanted this." he doesn't look convinced, head tilted down in shame, so you continue, "and...it's kinda sexy don't you think? me, barely able to talk because you were fucking my throat?"

his hands squeeze your waist at your words.

"...sexy?"

"yeah. you were so rough with me today. it felt like you needed me." you grin, "like you really love me."

"i do, i-i really do love you." a blush blooms at the tops of his cheeks as he starts to gush at you, "i just-- you felt so good around me, your hot mouth and pretty lips, and i couldn't take it. i wanted more, anything you'd give me, and you did...you gave me everything."

you swoon at your boyfriend's admission, loving how honest he can be. "i love you too, baby." you lean in, lips brushing his, "and i'd do it again."

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #moon knight fanfic

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jamjaemin · 7 months

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𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 pt2

Pairing:bf!dreamies × gf!reader

Genre:+18 obviously nsfw mdi, , I see you

Summary:here we go again since y'all loved the pt1, dreamies thoughts I think they're accurate bc I'm a sex therapist and whenever I see their faces I know exactly what's going on trust me (this is not a summary anymore XD)

Author’s note: I'll turn some of these thoughts into smuts when I find time bc my college won't let me now.

Now playing: wine pon you slowed | doja cat

- one day, he'll surprise you with a date on a private yatch, after a drink and in the middle of the day, you made your way to the couch and before you knew it, he had his head between your legs. it wasn’t long before you were coming on his face, whimpering his name like a prayer.

Chenle, chenle,ZHONG CHENLE (the amount of times I think about this scenario is insane, in a white sundress looking so gorgeous for him..he want nothing but to eat you out)

- you were staying the night at a motel when you asked him to spank you. at first, he completely refused but after a lot of puppy eyes and pouty lips, then he enjoyed it as much as you did or maybe more.

Mark, Jeno (when they're super turned on they'll make you cry "im giving you what you asked for" is their motto, spank you harder if you don't answer them) Jaemin, Jisung (the exact opposite, they're the type to check on you with every spank, light spanking but if you asked for more they'll do it harder, still check on you tho)

- record you both getting at it to watch at a later date. A lot of hissing, humming and moaning, especially when he’s close.

Heavy on Haechan (he's not the main vocalist for nothing, so vocal in bed istg. when watching them again, The probability of having sex after is 100%)

- he would love to fuck you near a large mirror and tell you how pretty you look taking all of his cock, squeezing every inche of him and cum over and over again until you're can't take it anymore.

Super heavy on Jaemin (praising you all the time, hands touching all of your body with some shoulder kisses, when you get shy he will force you to look at the mirror by holding your jaw and make you see how you're falling apart against him)

- Likes to watch you masturbate, putting his head close and observing intently. Loses his shit if you moan his name while doing so.

Heavy on Renjun, chenle (moaning his name is the green light to help you out, toys, teasing, fingering...all of them while speaking chinese, make you cum hard but not harder than how his cock fills your pussy after) mark, haechan (will masturbate while watching you) jeno, jisung, jaemin (helping each other's masturbate, his fingers playing with your clit and your hand wrapped around his length)

- Very good at memorising how you like things done. What makes you pur and what makes you feral.

Renjun ( the details of your body, kinks, limits, never left his mind)

- When he's drunk the wild side in him shows. Not innocent. Not as gentle as you thought. He love making you stutter, holds your neck steadily, choking you. “You like this, don’t you?! Don’t look away!” It was obvious. He was going to fuck your brains out. He’ll make sure the only word you know is "more".

Jisung (he's a freak and good at hiding it, don't argue with me) Haechan (i added him just bc he have a thing for choking and being choked, he will give you a teasing smile if you do it to him then make you learn your place)

- Maybe you ignored him for fun. You didn’t want to take it far, but his reactions of “not caring” were so hilarious to you. Once he found out you were pranking him, He will ignore your orgasms just like you ignored him.

Heavy on Mark ( ain't the leader for nothing, i can imagine how hot and dominant he gets when he's mad, you would need a wheelchair for a good 2 weeks)

- He would play games, head between your thighs and die to end the game and eat you out, if he won he’ll eat your pussy gently and take his time with it but if he loses he’ll devour it and won't stop even when you beg him.

Haechan (blaming you and saying its all your thighs fault), Jeno, jisung (the special way of celebrating their victory or taking out the anger of defeat)

- The air always hung heavy when he's working out. it's the way his brows furrow in intense concentration or the groans he make as his muscles flex. either way, it’s a big turn on for you and he knows it. “c’mon, I know you want it sweetheart, open up for me,” “princess… you can give me one more, right?” “that’s my girl.”

Na fucking Jaemin, jeno (no explanation needed, i know..you know...we know)

Have a great day/night and ty for reading♡

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grimreaperschild · 10 months

Text

guitar practice 4

summary: sad excuse for a plot thickens and wednesday pays you an untimely visit

warnings: swearing, wednesday level affection

a/n: some flashbacks and we get to see rs abilities sorry i took a while to get this out lol been enjoying summer, gonna post some drabbles soon hopefully, any ideas or requests greatly appreciated also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist it wouldn’t let me tag some people so if i didn’t tag you im sorry, happy reading!-🦷

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you wake with a start sitting up sweat sticking your (y/h/c) to your forehead, turning to your bedside table you pick up your phone and check the time 2:44am the clock reads, you groan. looking over at the other side of your dorm yoko is snoring softly, no practicing in here then.

letting out a content sigh you push open the door to your studio letting the familiar scenery put you at ease, the “studio” was actually just a room tucked into the far corner of nevermore academy’s many winding hallways, the walls covered in your spray paint cans covering the shelf’s a small sofa big enough to seat 3 sat dejectedly in the corner your amp next to it a line of mirrors on the left side that opened up to closet space that you still hadn’t found a use for.

you throw yourself onto the sofa pressing your palms to your eyes it’s starting again his voice rings clear in your mind, “yes, yes i can see that” you mutter pressing into your eyes more.

the nightmares always got worse near parents weekend, the buzz of all the students making your heart thrum in your chest, your palms sweat in class and he seems to follow you everywhere, hovering over your shoulder voice penetrating your mind, usually you could swipe him away his body dissipating into the air leaving you in peace y/n “callum, stop.” you all but whined but it was too late.

you know i don’t blame you

that’s all it took for the memories you had tried so desperately to push down to rush back leaving deep gashes as they claw steadily to the front of your mind.

“your a monster” your mother screamed chocking on her tears no. bright blue and red flashes danced off the walls as the body bag was thrown into the back of the ambulance stop no. you grab at your chest as your breathing comes out in ragged gasps fire spreading from your fingertips to your elbows you close your eyes focusing on your breathing like your therapist (dr kimbot) had taught you, eventually your breathing evened out and you cracked open your eyes looking at the charred remains of your sleep shirt, you frown that’s the 3rd time this week and it’s only wednesday, oh, wednesday.

you shake your head clearing the name from your mind, you pick up one of your many guitars this being one of your favourite acoustics, your dad had made it for you when you were 12 you rub your fingers over the engraving “to my daughter the love and light of my life don’t ever give up- pa” you smile sadly strumming to ensure it was still in tune you quickly lose yourself in the music.

a familiar chord progression slips from your fingers and you freeze realising what you’d played the memories flashing through your mind

“nes” you giggled at the girl’s unimpressed expression “baby it’s not that hard” she swats your hand away from hers that’s resting on the body of your guitar, she frowns nimble fingers struggling to stretch into the correct position for the chord you where currently trying to teach her, you lean back and observe the girl the light from the rising sun was casting her in a golden glow her brown eyes twinkling when she finally sounded out the chord “told you it wasn’t hard” she hummed eyes coming to meet yours “sometimes i dream about dissecting you, i imagine there’s fire flowing through your veins” the ghost of a smile on her lips at the thought, you snort “your morbid wednesday” “i want our remains to be burned together” she says completely ignoring your last statement “romantic” you quip back a smile on your lips, she stands “come cara mia i have a surprise for you” she doesn’t wait for you as she steps back through the window into her dorm

your crying?

the comment snaps you out of your mind you reach up and feel your cheeks are wet “i guess i am” go on tell your big brother you watch as his form jumps over the back of the sofa landing with a soft thud his toothy grin putting you at ease “im older than you now” i still age when im dead y/n, don’t take that from me.

you chuckle at how serious he’s being “yes sir” you mock salute him giggling as he pulls his lips into a thin line still waiting for an answer to his previous question, you wait for a second knowing your not going to be able to avoid this one you take a deep breath readying yourself “im scared to see mum again cal, and wednesday won’t stop starting at me and enid and i don’t even know what me and enid are and i miss you and i hate being an outcast” you rush out all in one breath then in a much smaller voice you add “and i hate that i see dead people, i hate that all i do is destroy things and the more i feel the more i lose control, god i’ve set so much on fire recently” you sink back into the chair feeling deflated.

he leans forward your not cruel y/n, your damaged, damaged goods are still good.

you say nothing letting his words wash over you, you push yourself up off the sofa checking your phone 5am blinks back at you and you take your dnd off watching the plethora of messages, mainly from enid pour through

3:24am

(enid❤️): y/n you ok? yoko said your not in your bed?

(enid❤️): your worrying me bby

4:50am

(enid❤️): y/n i’ve given you as much space as i can, please answer your phone.

4:55am

(yoko🧛‍♀️): told enid your probs in your studio good luck and god speed my friend

you giggle at that last message shooting a quick one back before focusing back on enid’s chat

(y/n): don’t wait up for me

you smile as yet another message comes through from enid

(enid❤️): ur lights on can i come in? x

(y/n): come in enid, the doors always unlocked for you x

you slip your phone into your back pocket as the door opens and closes you turn back to the sofa a hollow feeling in your chest as you realise callum’s given you and enid space, she gasps when she sees you “you’ve been crying” you hum too tired to reply and she puts her hands on your forearms taking in your burned t “the nightmares have started haven’t they?” you nod pulling her with you to the sofa and pulling her into your lap arms tight around her waist her hands come up to massage your scalp kissing your head.

your not sure when you fell asleep but you wake up sprawled out over enid her arms around you in a protective manner, you yawn and suddenly an icy feeling makes it’s way down your spine as you look up and make eye contact with wednesday, she’s stood at the door impassive expression on her face you untangle yourself from enid without waking her standing and padding over to her “your not welcome here anymore wednesday” you whisper yell at her, she opens her mouth to speak closes it again thinks finds the right words and takes a step forward towards you “i have accepted tyler’s invite to the raven, i understand you and enid will be there together, you must know i will have you back”

you stand in stunned silence as she continues taking another step towards you “i know you, i know you still think of me, im utterly devoted to you but you must let my investigation run its course” you take a step back towards the sleeping blond suddenly not liking how far away you are “that’s sweet, didn’t know you had it in you, good for you wednesday but your actions make your words meaningless, now if you’ll excuse me im sure im late enough for parents day as it is” you take another step back checking the time.

1:23pm

your eyes near jump out of your head

shit.

“enid” you yelp and she jumps and slinks out of the room like a kicked dog before enid can spot her “enid” you shout this time and it finally stirs her out of her slumber groaning at the bright light of your studio room “what” she grumbles not being a morning person “it’s half 1” she jumps up at the realisation “fuck” “yeah. fuck.” she scrambles to the door grabbing your hand and pulling you with her as she runs for your dorm as it’s closest throwing the door open and going straight to your closet “yeah help yourself” you call out chuckling at the girls antics, a shirt hits you square in the face as she tumbles out half dressed in your joggers and a hoodie.

“put that on keep the joggers you have on now we don’t have time, shit they’ve been here for 2 hours” you hum anxiety spiking as you picture your mums face, you grab enid’s arm as she attempts to rush past you while pulling her shoes back on, you pull her flush against you “good luck with your family today text me im gonna miss you” she smiles reaching up to peck you on the lips “remember to call me if it gets too much n/n, good luck too” she kisses you again sweetly and then she’s gone out the door and down the hall before you even blink.

your left alone in your room tear tracks on your cheeks the tattered remains of a t-shirt clinging to your body the fresh one enid threw at you in your hands, you sigh, again.

come on trooper, let’s do this together

you smile as cal forms in-front of you, at least being able to talk to the dead meant you could be haunted by your favourite sibling.

———————————————————————

tag list: @allison-iloveyou @thedemoninme141 @alphaniner1415 @ctrlamira

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader #jenna ortega #emma myers #emma myers x reader #enid sinclair

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jikjinz · 8 months

Text

★﹐this is overdose ．﹗﹑

anonymous asked: Can you please do treasure legal line overstimulating their s/o unintentionally kind off something?

cw: treasure legal line x fem!reader (separate); overstimulation (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting kind-of?, fingering, tit play/nipple play, unprotected p-in-v sex (yall better wrap it up), aftercare mentioned; lmk if i missed any

a/n: back on my bullshit to drop a bomb and disappear. this is like a year late request so im sorry in advance but ig better late than never lol. enjoy <3 and btw this is little to no proof-read so yall dont see eventual typos or grammatical mistakes.

CHOI HYUNSUK 💭ˎˊ˗

it happened by accident

but when he noticed, his brain caught an error, a big one

keeps on going either way because you’re so gorgeous this way and he’s unable to stop

no thoughts in your brain right now, as your head is full of fuzzy pleasure and hyunsuk. that’s all you can think of and when you feel his tongue yet again on your clit you’re losing it.

hyunsuk is as well in his world… kind-of?? because his world right now consists of the most scrumptious meal he’s ever had. your pussy. and he loves the background music consisting of your moans, screams, and random blabbers you say occasionally. yet the moment your thighs shake and the most overpowering orgasm hits you while providing him the tastiest thing ever, hyunsuk finally comes back to reality. and as you try to calm yourself by breathing steadily, hyunsuk looks at your with his dreamy gaze, his lower face covered in his spit and your juices.

because you’re the best thing that he got blessed with and he hopes to keep you by his side until you two get old.

💭ˎˊ˗ PARK JIHOON

probably it was his goal

which he achieved

grins like a stupid idiot (which he is) at your fucked up state because it’s him, it’s park jihoon who got you to such point and no. one. else. ego boost 100

“jihoon, please, please, please jihoon-”

“please what, pretty baby?”

“make me cum already, stuff me with your-”

jihoon only chuckles like a jackass, staring back at you with that cute smile of his. you whine again, trying to hump yourself on his hand that’s between your legs. he’s rubbing your clit for some time now, ocassionally picking up on his pace and then harshly stopping. jihoon also is toying with your cute tits and those nice nipples of yours, driving you even more insane, causing you to think only about him, his actions, his hand, his length…

jihoon grabs your chin with his other hand and kisses you hastily, a perfect disguise for his fingers sliding in past your folds, causing you to moan right into the kiss and cumming immediately, too intensively for your senses to bear. jihoon, satisfied with the results, lets you to ride it all out on his fingers. and as you look at him with that half-lidded eyes and soft smile, he’s about to melt.

because you are the only one who makes his heart flutter in such indescribable ways.

KANEMOTO YOSHINORI 💭ˎˊ˗

once he did it, got so addicted to the result immediately

sent himself into the oblivion btw as well

stunned and amazed by the abilities of your hot body; would like to try this again

your body is on autopilot now, chasing that so much wanted pleasant high. mind went on a break, leaving your instinct to continue and all you got in your head right now was yoshi making wonders inside you.

“does it- ah! feel- good?” yoshi asks, his mind slowly ascending as well. the sight of your fucked out mind, your whitening knuckles from gripping the sheets so tightly… it’s all too much for him as well.

“uh- uh-huh!” that’s all he gets in response from you but that’s all he needs. and so yoshi continues, though he can’t do it for too long himself. he’s sure you’ve already milked him dry, yet you’re still going… until he feels something warm on his lower parts. smashed back to reality, yoshi smiles reassuringly, caressing your skin with his hand.

“you did so well, darling. i love you.”

because no matter how many times he’ll say it, it’s never gonna be enough and these words can’t cover the whole amount of his love for you.

💭ˎˊ˗ KIM JUNKYU

gets worried the moment he notices your fucked-out face

tries to check up on you but when you tell him to go on

his insides do flips at the sight of the results of his actions

you’re a moaning mess, eyes rolling back to see your brain, tongue out with no strength to keep it tense.

holy fuck, what is happening to you?

“keep going! don’t- stop!”

and as junkyu hears your trembling words, there’s a sheepish smile on his face. the fact that your head is empty already, only lust and the overwhelming pleasure junkyu provides with his actions is getting to his head, slowly, but it does. he still cannot believe that he does you so good and his confidence grows with each louder scream, each rougher scratch of your nails on his shoulders, and each plea of your to make you cum for the nth time. and as he’s whispering ‘i love you’ over and over into your neck, he really means it.

because no one ever got him so confident in himself as you do.

YOON JAEHYUK 💭ˎˊ˗

is in awe of the view in front of him

will stop if you want but that’s not enough for him

is the type to overstimulate you on purspose because it’s hot when you do it

jaehyuk can’t help but stare with wide open eyes and salivating mouth at your still spasming pussy.

“i’d love to see it more often, baby,” he says with that dumb boyish smile. right now, jaehyuk looks like a little child amazed by a new toy. he’s still staring at your entrance, in awe, trying not to hump himself between your thighs. finally, he looks at your face and gets close, so he can kiss the living shit out of you. you are just too good for him and he would give you the world if you’d ask. and he’ll start with a comforting bath, warm bathrobe, and lots of kisses and cuddles.

because he loves you so much and he knows you love him the same amount. but he still loves you a bit more than that.

💭ˎˊ˗ HAMADA ASAHI

did you so good for so long you squirted for the first time ever

blurted out some stupid bullshit because he loved that so much

will try to make you squirt again in the future (next time you get intimate)

“now that was hot as fuck.”

asahi stares at your soaked pussy and the wet stains on the sheets, in awe of your abilities. and as you squirm, trying to run away from his stare in embarassment, his heart swells inside his guts.

“darling, i love that you did it, it was incredibly hot and i wish to see you do such things more. it made me even more horny right now to be frank.”

you are able to only stare at him for a second, then chuckle at his honest words. as he sees your body slowly relax with each laugh, he smiles as well.

because he loved how you made his heart flutter with your smile and he would do anything to see you smile all the time.

KIM DOYOUNG 💭ˎˊ˗

another idiot who gets an ego boost

but is incredibly lost at what is going on with you

stops the moment you start crying out his name, does not understand the mixed signals of your words and body

“ah-! too- too much-!”

the moment doyoung hears these words, he stops his movements. indeed, he got lost in the pleasure the moment he slid inside, yet it seemed at first you were enjoying it as well. he has no idea what is happening to you but carefully watches your body, your each move, as he slowly tries to understand what do you mean.

“are you- are you okay, princess?”

the concern in his voice brings your senses back a bit and as you notice his worried stare, you try to say something coherent, though your fried brain can’t find right words.

“so good it’s- too much.”

what?

he is still looking at you and he still monitors your reactions but can’t help this cheeky smile. as he proceeds to finally get your words to his head, doyoung can’t help but kiss you.

because he did you so good it’s too much, all of it by accident, which only adds to his confidence.

|| trsr-mlist || main-mlist || reblogs & feedback appreciated !!!

taglist: @mashiluvs @yedamies-blackswan @ahncosette

@ jikjinz / @ ness-iness 2023, do not copy, translate or repost without permission!!!

#choi hyunsuk #fics: treasure #hyunsuk smut #treasure smut #treasure smut headcanons #jihoon smut #doyoung smut #doyoung

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joonsty · 4 months

Text

Hybrid Au :

BunnyJungkook X Human Reader 🐰

Warnings : extreme possesive and obsessive behavior, smut, slight yandere themes? explicit sexual content; oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial/control, choking, unprotected sex, shower sex, creampie, marking/hickeys, rough, pet names, piss kink, rough manhandling? i guess bunny boy is stronger than reader. mentions of alcohol, pills, plot twist at the end, hint of soft/kook, I’m so fucking shite at recognising what bunnies do when they are angry or whatever so…I’m sorry. 🤍 uhm I feel like there’s more but I suppose I’ll remember later!

this is my first post on tumblr, so i guess im a bit nervous? I hope you like it!! requests are open, so feel free to send in suggestions & ideas! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

your keys rattled in the little doorlock, failing multiple times on opening the door. “fuck“ you sighed out as you dropped your keys on the floor. If i were to describe you, i would say you were drunk, sticky & a hot mess, but most importantly totally fucked. It was times like these, where you were drunk, that you would forget the rules and the people around you. He tried his hardest, drilling the words into your mind, making your dumb stupid brain memorize it by heart. But even then, you forgot the most important rule.

never ever leave your bunny boy alone.

so yeah, in simple words, you were fucked. you didn't know about the evil that sat in your house, glaring at the four walls in so much anger and pain. If only you listened, if only you paid more attention to your bunny boy than you did to your friends. who even cared about your friends? he could kill them in a heartbeat. sure, it’ll hurt you, but the sweet pain he would see on your face, your warm tears dribbling down your cheeks, it would be worth it.

so welcome back to the present, you grabbed your right hand, and steadily plopped the key into the lock, twisting it in success. “finally” you groaned out. your feet was sore and burning. you needed a shit ton of pain relievers and a warm shower to make you feel better tonight, maybe even a cuddle from your favourite boy. but oh god, how everything was going to go down the drain.

you sluggishly walked into your apartment and halted, eyes immediately locking with the hothead in-front of you. “g-gukkiieeee” you slurred as you ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and breathing in his musky scent. oh god, he felt so nice, you thought as you pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

before you could even comprehend what happened, he pushed you off him, making you stumble back a bit. “hey what are you-?” “don’t fucking touch me.” he growled. his fluffy bunny ears standing up straight, and you even noticed how big? he almost seemed. he turned his back to you and walked away to your shared bedroom, leaving you in the main room, confused and dizzy.

“oh fuck it” you thought, as you walked yourself in the bedroom as well. to be honest, you’ve had enough with jungkooks behaviour. his constant fear of him losing you to someone else, or how he made you drop and block all your male friends because, “I trust you baby, it’s them I don’t trust” & all that bullshit.

as you walked in, you saw him sitting on the bed, earphones plugged in, blasting his music on the full. he didn’t even spare you a glance. you really hated when he was angry. but then again, it was kind of like this all the time. you shimmied out of your dress, grabbing his tshirt and some shorts and scurried your way to the bathroom.

your feet touch the cold marble floor and you jerk back a bit, “wooh okay” you mentally prepare yourself before stepping in the shower. your hand turns the knobs for the water and the drizzles of shower comes shooting down as the warmest of summer rain, your eyes squeeze shut as you bask & enjoy the warm water dissolving all your pain and aches away.

you stay like that for a few minutes, gradually getting sleepier by the second, eyes feeling heavy and your legs on the verge to give out. god you should finish this shower and head to bed so you can slee-

“who tf do you think you are, hm?”

you flinch as his voice finally reaches you. fuck, you didn’t know whether to be shit scared or shit turned on rn. “what do-“

“shut the fuck up, whore.”

your mouth instantly seizes up. you’re pretty sure he can hear the loud thumping of your heart, punching against your fragile rib cage & the small breathy whimpers that leave your mouth.

his rough hand latches onto your throat and you swear your stomach clenches a bit. his calloused fingers soothingly rubbing the sides of your throat. you can practically feel his hard abs pressing your back, but thats not all. you gulp, taking a deep breath in.

“baby, whats wr-“ you get interrupted again & his hold tightens just a tad bit more.

“did i say you could fucking speak?“ he grits out.

“you know all you had to do was tell me, and i would've fucked this dirty cunt of yours, but no, my dumb little bitch wanted to go and fuck someone else.“

you look at him with wide eyes, what the hell is he talking about?

in a swift moment, hes got you pressed against the wall. the pebbles of your breast brushing uncomfortably against the tiles causing you to bite down on your bottom lip.

“guess i have to remind you that this pussy...“

his hand roughly slaps your clit, making you jump in pleasure.

“belongs to me, and only me.“

------------------------------------------------

& thats how you ended up, face down and ass up on the satin bed. tears streaming down your face, while you begged him to “stop, its too much“and in response he laughed at your face, mocking your whimpers.

you could say that the initial pain was blinding, feeling yourself getting stretched out by him made all your racing thoughts dissipate as every nerve in your brain focused on not passing out. plain and pleasure, that's what it was about.

your hands roughly clenched around the black sheet beneath you, his body pinning you down, his thick girth hitting impossibly deep inside you. you immediately muffled your screams into the bedsheet, allowing drool to dribble down your mouth and stain it.

in a sudden movement, you felt his hand wrap around your locks and painfully pull back. “who fucks you better hm?“ he breathes out, as his pace quickens. “what” you whimper out as you bite down on your bottom lip.

his nose tickles your jaw, as he guides his mouth closer to your ears. “I said, does he fuck you better than me?” he pulls out, making you gasp at the loss of contact on instinct. “god- you’re test-“ “no” “what did you say?” he grunts out, as he repeatedly taps his cock on ur clit, gently pushing in and out, teasing you. your walls clench around nothing and you could finally say that the pain was getting worse, you wanted a release and you wanted it bad.

“no, no you’re the only one I want, please, please, please” you begged, pathetically.

“hm I didn’t hear you what did you say?”

“please bunny, I need to-“

“excuse me?”

“please please, daddy, let me cum, I’ll do anything, please”

his cocky chuckle filled the four walls, bouncing of em and directly piercing through your ears.

“good girl.”

daam fuck. you couldn’t deny the warmth that started to fill your belly by his praise. sooner than expected, you came. like he always says "cumming on daddys cock like a filthy slut".

and you was indeed, HIS filthy slut.

you slumped down onto the bed, heart pounding within your chest, sweat gathering on your forehead and a insane urge for more. he fell next to you on the bed and his large hand clasped around your waist, pulling you next to him. You could smell his cologne entangled with his musky scent, how could you resist him, you just wanted him to roll you over and dwe-

'you okay?' he whispered, big eyes staring at you, and you stared right back.

'yeah...' you answered, as your hands slowly crept down his abdomen, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. you softly palmed his solid, pink hard-on and low purrs resonated to your ears.

'what are you-'

he was interrupted. you spit on his cock and hungrily slide him into your mouth, taking him in as much as you could, a small gag from you makes him hiss and he throws his head back. you lick the stripe of vein on the side and swirl your tongue softly on his tip, oh how he wants to just grab your hair and force you on his cock until your a blabbering mess, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment.

you pull back with a pop and glare at the man who's now ready to do whatever you want.

"oh how the tables have turned..."

hope you liked that! i will be posting more stories soon! if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! ♡

do you prefer shorter or longer stories? (ill keep it in mind for next time!)

thanks for supporting! if you have any requests or ideas, please dont hesitate to dm me! even if you just want to have a chat! ⋅ ୨୧ ⋅

@meowyoongii @amyyysposts @theuniverse4koo @era-genius @gukjshi

(tag list currently!)

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darlingeto · 1 year

Text

Rawdogging this shit while i drink away ghost riley and his fucked life

He loves eating pussy and being called sir gets him frustrated i would know.

Slight veryy slight like if u really squint impact play. Lots of cum eating because im filthy. Like one pet name. Oral both received it kinda. Choking? Technically angry sex? Mutual pinning but shush cause theyre both five year old emotionally. Tell me what i forgot im drunk

Simon ghost Riley x female reader

Lowk the reader is a bit annoying

I tried to make this short ??

Please i wanna hold him on my tits and pat his head i might lose it.

First time he ever touched u was because he had to. He and u were stuck in a hideout with your torso full of deep cuts and scratches from the explosion’s residue metal while u made your way to the car. Your lieutenant stitches your waist in an out of character care. Not that he doesn’t always show care and worry for his team but because he constantly kept repeating how he told u to stay behind him and that it wasn’t a suggestion but an order. Your only response were a huffing laugh that slowly turned to a grunt from the pain of the needle and a short “sorry sir i will follow orders more accordingly next time” which made him turn quiet. Silence that lasted all the way to your next mission a couple of weeks later. This mission being your third with this team.

Second time you feel his hands and grip is again on your waist as he moves u out the way to get to the papers on the desk. Papers which u had presented for a detour to your original route. He towering over the others scans said paper and nods simply walking back to his equipment and ordering the other two in your team to follow the original route to leave u and your lieutenant for the risk of your idea. Although his hands were gone off your waist with urgency because of the turn of your neck and your strangely big eyes looking up at him it burned on your skin for far longer than you’d like to say, feeling bizarrely bashful of such a stupid exaggeration on your end.

The third time was sweet or maybe a touch starving mind like yours perceived it as so when he and soap had been teasing u about how much you’ve grown to create a new and better option for efficiency during the mission and your grumpy remarks earned u a pat in the back while he told u to pour some whiskey for everyone. Normally u would shrug it off, orders not being of your liking especially when not necessary but u found yourself drunken in the span of 15 minutes with the others’ voices muffled except for his while he for once opened that damned mouth and told the others to wake u up. You weren’t asleep but the embarrassing way your head was resting on his shoulder was too much of a stretch to just jolt up and hide into your room. When u hear the jokes however u do it regardless flipping soap’s teasing off and then running face down onto your pillow. Tearing your uniform off with bother and grumpiness. You had now touched him, somehow it felt like you lost some nonexistent bet in your head. It felt pathetic in many levels.

The fourth time was just a day later for u had stayed in bed in the hideout while everyone was doing the morning work out. He came in steadily and called out your name which in response was served a groaning “yes sir” you hear steps from under the covers and he pulls the blanket down just slightly brushing just his finger accidentally onto your lip. You are giving him those big eyes again but now theyre tired and swollen. “Well i have seen a lot but a hangover from just one shot of whiskey is definitely fresh” you manage to roll your eyes and sit up, your eyes avoiding his sharp ones. “Im not hangover sir i just have the flu.” “Sure you do” and then he’s taking off his glove and pressing his palm onto your forehead. You’re stuck between leaning into his cold palm and pushing it off but your eyes shut from the size of his hand coming down em and sigh contented almost leaning your head’s weight fully onto the large palm. Noticing he blinks and then pushes u back down to bed. He leaves quickly and the last thing your sleepy state registers is a “Youre excused to stay in”. Your what u called rest for a minute to regain your composure lasted up till late in the afternoon a bothersome call of your name from soap as he came in making u wince away the drowsiness as he placed a cup on your small desk. “Have some tea for u” “I dont need it, did u guys already have breakfast” “Sleeping beauty thanks to u we had the honor of breakfast and lunch by the lieutenant and believe it or not we are enjoying his tea and you sure should too. His brit really comes out” that seemed to surprise u as u look at the tea. Your throat does feel dry so u might as well. U taste it and its like the thing in his voice sweet with honey but bitter and strong. The cup also doesn’t belong to u. Its his own u note but strongly believe the man in front of u got them switched. That evening u only went out late enough for the only one patrolling to run into you as u were in desperate need of a smoke. And to your luck its the lieutenant. He looks at u and u look at your hand clearing your throat and fixing your back straight. “Thanks for the tea” why are u thanking him. Its only normal for all of u to have tea. “Do u have another one” u look at where he’s looking.. he’s asking for a smoke and u give him yours almost too eagerly and rashly. He takes it bending slightly and his hand comes to push the fabric on his face away as the surprising but somehow attractive view of his dry lips wrap around the cigarette you’re feeling hot again and the fever surely picked up because you find yourself forcing off a smile with a gulp. You quickly busy yourself with lighting another cigarette as he enjoys your first. You both wordlessly smoke away for a minute. Him because silence is only of ghosts nature and u because your mind has been preoccupied with the shape of his lips. His lips touching the spot where yours were. Him not bothering to even comment on technically revealing a feature of his face. You’re confused and feverish so u greet him good night in the most awkward form as u hit your bed again. Not that u get much sleep anyways.

But this time u cant not note it down to yourself his hand is gripping your wrist as u yell at his face. Yes his uncovered face that is adorned in crimson from a knife that grazed and cut off his skin along with his mask. He was too busy protecting you as an enemy made way across his well, safe eye, thankfully, and it had u fuming. Yes he’s your superior but you do not need protection. Not his not anyones it made u feel so little and useless when you for the first time to see his hell of attractive face but bleeding only because u were incompetent enough for him to lose his concentration. He is gripping your wrist and yelling back. “Soldier watch your mouth. If it weren’t for this cut your throat would’ve been the target.” “ I could’ve protected myself. No. I can.” You try to state but it comes off weak and breathless his eyes shutting u up from the thick air of intimidation as he breathes down at u. Hes mad. In all your months of working with the man u hadn’t encountered his so feared anger. It has your knees weak and your throat dry but u dont want him to own this situation away with it. So u speak up. “What has u so bothered sir if u dont want me fucking up your team its only fair u make a complaint ill be gone just as abruptly as i came” “dont u call me sir while fuckin telling me to give in to what u want” his tone is harsh and just a thin layer between low and desperate and his grip is harsher but u bite back “ you think id wanna leave after seeing your pretty face” its so fast your gasp cuts off as he wraps a hand around your throat and brings your faces closer. “U minx i told u to shut up”.

“And i told u to fuck off because it wont happen” he squeezes down on your airways his cold hand making your heating body shiver. Your eyes dont leave his dark lidded ones and for a moment the whole world disappears. Its only your huffs and his before he presses his lips with an overwhelming passion slamming u onto the desk by your throat causing your mouth to form in an o as he pushes his tongue against yours and you try at squeezing your thighs only to feel his own press to your middle. You’re mewling, your hips shaking slightly and he hovers over your mouth before dragging his teeth tauntingly at where his thumb on your neck is. Moving it to press down your tongue he bites down on the flesh you make the decision to suck on his thumb as the only way to quiet yourself. He lowly oh so lowly groans that u can barely make it out over your own sounds. His hands are everywhere.

Squeezing at your hips, ass, thighs, tits, anything he can reach with his needy urgency. But you find the strength to relish in your own urges hands pressing up his forearm and the other on his torso trying to get his tight shirt off so u can really feel his warm skin. When u cant get it off though you let out a whine that surprises both of you and he looks at u. Same big eyes that u save for such inconvenient moments looking up at him he lets out a low “fuckin hell name” and you whine again because the way your name sounds coming from him while he’s so heated has u rubbing yourself onto his thigh. He taps your cheek enough for your head to sway pathetically as u blush vividly “you sound too lewd for fucks sake” “ take your shirt off . Please” he shuts his eyes covering your mouth head dropping back before kicking your thighs apart with his own pressing his middle to your own. His mouth coming to the side of your head “now you’re behaving? Begging even?” “Fuck god just please i wanna touch u” he rips your shirt open biting at the skin of your plush chest as he tears his own off. You moan when u finally get your hands onto his skin wrapping hands around his neck once you’ve trailed them all the way to his shoulders bringing him down for a kiss. One that lasts for the entire time he needs to get u out of your trousers. He’s speaking in between your suffocating kiss “Wait” “Wait wait wait let me see u” his face is close before he straightens up trailing eyes all over your every curve only to fix at your clothed sticky mess causing his brows to furrow and his jaw to flex. The urge to shut your legs cut off by his waist so u wrap your legs around it pulling him closer “Ghost dont just look please “ “Its either simon or sir for u” he is kneeling down taking your legs over his shoulders biting onto the skin of your inner thighs and u think only briefly about sitting up to ask him not to tease u but your hands fly to your mouth to cover the surprise scream u let out when he licks over your clothed cunt. He pulls your underwear off with a demanding need shoving his face back into your slit lapping up at the juices. He speaks with a broken tone “ oh fuck you taste too good “ he’s biting at your clit before pressing three fingers onto your clenching hole. Your head fall forward as you tap at his shoulders too needy for his dick to be filling u up but he just grabs your hands with his free one holding them in place determined to make u cum on his face. His drinking your every drop and consuming your every sound , he wants to ravish u fully with how your thighs squeeze around his head. His fingers only growing in precision to that spot that makes u cry out just a little louder and dig your nails onto his skin. In far too little minutes youre buckling yourself onto his face biting down onto his glove he shoved into your mouth as u release all over his face twitching with every slight flick of his tongue as he drinks up the aftershocks looking up at u as if to say get your ass off there before smacking u right there and squeezing at the plushy flesh after and u move off the desk as he wastes no time in bending u over that desk and unzipping his pants his length forcing its way between your thighs “i wanna fuck u. Do u wanna fuck me? Hm?” And hes pulling at your jaw making u look up at him as u nod “ Please fuck me Simon “ he kisses u slowly as he starts feeding u his length with a significant self restraint.

Tears prickle at your eyes as u moan taking his hand and placing the fingers that were fuckin u in your mouth and it takes all in him and a bite to your shoulder for him not to pound u out of your skin right then. The desk presses right at the bulge his dick forms in your stomach and u feel dizzy mumbling and bitching about how it hurts too much “Simon no its too big i cant do this its like i can feel it in my throat, fuckin hell look there’s a bulge in my tummy”

Taking his hand and placing it on the bulge u rest your head on his chest looking up shaking your head but he takes his fingers out of your mouth only to cover it fully with his hand and presses down onto the imprint of his dick while starts ramming it inside your tight walls at a bruising pace. If u thought it hurt before now youre drunk off the pain it fills u up so well you whine at the thought of him ever leaving u empty. Digging your fingers on his arm u just give in and helplessly try to reach for his thrusts. He’s kissing at your temple, whispering about how your cunts made for him. “Simon-“ “Im right there with u pretty just let go for me” holding onto his arm u whither, your back arching off his chest as u hide your face onto his neck, taking in his scent as you cum. Your second orgasm not as sweet and far more difficult than the first one just from the size of the man. He leaves no time to breathe “come here on your knees, fuckin hell” hes fisting his dick right at your face and u place your fingers over his wrist taking him in your mouth and onto the back of your throat as u swallow with difficulty causing him to whimper lowly dropping his head back his sweet perfect voice the only thing ringing in your ears as u taste him all over your mouth. He takes it out of your mouth patting your head and rubbing your cheek pulling u up gently onto the desk putting u in his shirt and jacket so u dont get cold from the sweat. You reach for him whining as he cups your face kissing your lips and eyes “U know not to piss me off i assume “ u giggle shaking your head as u kiss his palms hugging him and it makes him freeze up not sure how to react. He hasn’t gotten a hug since.. ever u could say really. He looks down at u and your big eyes are brightly looking right up at him making him kiss u and i mean really kiss u. Youve lost your breath when he pulls away and youre dazed so he helps u onto his back hitting the bathroom.

#simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw #call of duty

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slytherinshua · 21 days

Text

113 L. SEUNGJUN

genre. onf universe au (byubyu specifically). fluff. warnings. kissing. seungjun kinda overthinks a tad but reader sets him straight. seungjun is locked up for time travel. a brief mention of guns and a past wound ig? pairing. seungjun x fem!reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. i'm pretty proud of this fic idk why skdjs onf lore fics are always so fun to write im still fascinated by their lore even tho i don't understand it too well lol but i try my best.

The sound of metal clashing outside made a groggy Seungjun blink his eyes open. He had been locked up for over 48 hours now with no access to food. He was allowed a little water if he begged the android guards extra nicely. His throat was scratchy and dry from the time spent locked up despite the water supply. They certainly didn’t treat time travel criminals as nicely as escape rebels.

Seungjun was sure he looked horrible by now. Or “a little bit scruffy around the edges”, as you would say, even the time when he had a gaping wound in his side. He missed the way you could make light of any situation right about now. He would do anything to have a reason to laugh again.

Seungjun was no stranger to the computer operated prison cells he was often shoved into after being caught. Years ago he had been thrown in for smaller crimes, but got out within a couple hours when he figured out the lock code while no one was looking. This time, it was a lot harder. They had upgraded their system; those damn robots learned quicker than the human brain could.

He had almost accepted his fate of rotting in the small square room by the time 24 hours had passed, but he still kept out a sliver of hope. You were still out there and free, which meant you could still come to save him.

He wanted to laugh whenever he found himself stuck in a situation where he had to rely on your good graces to get out. One of these days he was sure his sweet words and gentle kisses wouldn’t be enough to convey his thanks. You were sure to get sick of him eventually, right? He was always the one messing things up.

His pride didn’t entirely allow him to accept that you were better than him, though he knew in the back of his mind that you were. You were perfect wherever he was faulty and just as decent at the skills that he professed he excelled in. Maybe that was why you were perfect for each other— or, rather, why you were too perfect for him.

It was strange how the human mind always wandered back to the people they loved. So much time and energy was spent just reminiscing memories, and while he found it beautiful, he also acknowledged it as one of humanity's weaknesses. The androids certainly didn’t spend their hard-drive space with personal connections. They didn’t have anything to lose, and that was why it was so hard to win against them.

Seungjun shook off the thoughts in his head and focused on the noises he heard from the corridor. From his watch, he knew it was deep in the night hours, a time when security usually lessened in numbers for recharge sessions. Now was as good a time as you were ever going to get if you were coming to save him. And, by another glance at the watch, Seungjun had a pretty good idea that you were.

The entire team’s locations were shared across the watches; a necessary safety measure for situations like now. The little red dot that showed your location was moving steadily closer to Seungjun’s, and that was when a shadow of a smile started to form on his face.

He stood up and walked to the edge of his cell, peaking out into the dark corridor while also being careful not to get too close to the electrically charged door. If he touched it, he would get shocks charging through his body— something he learnt the hard way. In order to escape, he’d have to take down the electricity system, but pulling off such a scheme without the android guards finding out was beyond his power with such limited resources. You, however, might just be able to pull it off undetected.

A hushed curse just barely reached his ears, and he perked up, trying to hear anything else. It definitely came from you; there was no way any of the robots would let such profanity past their voice record logs. They weren’t the best with advanced vocabulary.

Soon enough, your figure appeared into view, searching around quickly between cells. Once your eyes fell upon the room with the code that read ‘113 L. SEUNGJUN’, you were quick to rush up to the other side of the door.

“Hey, time travelling dumbass. Long time, no see.” You whispered out with a smirk playing on your lips. Seungjun could feel his heart leap in his chest and he returned the smile. He had really missed you.

You quickly punched in the code to his cell and Seungjun watched as the door flickered away. You reached out for his wrist, already pulling him along before he could ask what the escape plan was. You seemed more than familiar with the layout of the building even in the dark. Seungjun opted to let you lead him to the way out without a word. He still didn’t know if there were any guards who might be on patrol.

It was a smooth escape, and you both were out into the cool night air before too long. Seungjun let the crisp fresh air fill his lungs fully, now realising how he had been holding his breath out of caution on the way out.

“How did you disarm the security cameras without getting caught?” He asked once he had caught his breath. Though he had been mostly focused on getting out, he had noticed the distinct lack of little red flashing dots that had been his constant reminder that whatever he did was being watched those 2 days straight.

“Minkyun figured out how to hack it from the inside, so all I had to do was find the control room. Hyojin got me the blueprints and Jaeyoung helped set up the game-plan. My job was pretty simple; get in, disarm, and then go find my stupid ass boyfriend.” You grinned, ruffling his hair as you said the last part.

Seungjun would’ve complained about you messing up his hair, or even the crude nickname that he secretly adored, but he had been apart from you too long to object to anything that came out of your mouth. He was hanging onto every word, soaking up the sound of your voice as his eyes studied yours fondly.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet. What, did something else happen while you were in there?” You questioned with a quirked brow. Seungjun just shook his head at your question.

“Nothing happened. I’m just glad you came for me.”

“You didn’t seriously think I would ditch you that easily, right?” You stared at him in shock as his eyes told you all the confirmation you needed. “Lee Seungjun!” You smacked his shoulder as you called out his name, causing him to jump and rub the spot afflicted in pain.

“Do whatever it takes to get this thought into your ant-sized brain, okay? I am in love with you which means I will not leave you behind. Ever. Even if I get blasted by one of those androids and die— I’ll haunt you as a ghost until you realize that you can’t get rid of me that easily! Don’t you ever forget that.” You told him sternly, your eyebrows furrowed.

He wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, or maybe kiss you until he couldn’t breathe; he wasn’t sure which. How he had ever ended up winning your heart was beyond him, but he was so grateful that he had. And so, he decided to go with the third option.

“I won’t forget.” He whispered, leaning closer until his breath hit your lips.

You took the first move, pushing your lips on his, starting the gentle dance of passion and care. You didn’t mind that his lips were dry and slightly chapped from the days locked up. No matter what state they were in, they still felt perfect over yours. He pulled you closer almost desperately, but you were just as eager to have him as close as possible. The effect of his absence for 2 days on you was something you never wished to repeat. Though you were sure it would come back to bite you someday; you needed Seungjun like oxygen.

The kiss lasted until Seungjun was gasping for breath, just like he had hoped. Still craving your touch, he stayed in your arms, his chest pressed against yours as close as possible until he could feel your heart racing as much as his.

And he realized that maybe you weren’t too perfect for him after all.

Maybe you were just right. Maybe he could be yours without feeling guilty about all the trouble he dragged you in. Maybe you even liked how rebellious he was, Seungjun thought as you curled your fingers through the section of bright red hair blanketed under his raven strands. The thought made him smile, summoning that warm feeling in his chest that he had always been a little wary of in the past.

Maybe he liked having someone to rely on as well, even if it was another weakness he had to account for. He made up his mind that no matter what, he wouldn’t doubt you again; you deserved at least that much, after all.

↳ onf taglist: @eternalgyu,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @seunghancore,, @haecien

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iridescent-petrichor · 1 year

Text

and i’ll run (love run)

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 4.1K

A/N: i started this almost a year ago lol but i never had the motivation to finish it, but now that i did im rlly happy with it!!!

“Hey, buttercup?” You asked, turning to the boy next to you, grass stains spotting your knees, leaning back on the ground of the meadow, breeze flowing just enough to rustle your clothing. “Do you ever wish you could see the world?”

“All the time, dear heart.” The young prince, Julian Pankratz, replied, grinning at you. His hair was all ruffled and his clothes had smudges of dirt – if his parents had seen they’d have his head.

“We should get out of here. Run away somewhere and just…” You gestured to the open field in front of you, waving vaguely. “Go.”

“My parents would send every guard after me the second I wouldn’t show up for dinner.” Julian laughed. You could see it in his eyes, though, that he wanted it more than anything. To leave and never come back and have the freedom of someone who didn’t have anyone to answer to. You wanted it to, with him by your side.

“Then we’d go farther than they could follow us. Travel the world, just the two of us.” You relished in the daydream, closing your eyes for a moment to imagine what it would be like.

“Just the two of us.” He repeated, allowing a dreamy smile to grace his lips, losing himself in the thought.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “The two of us… forever.”

Leaving Aretuza was a tiring, difficult journey. You were battered and exhausted, trudging through the deep forest until you could see the all-too-familiar buildings standing tall on the horizon. The only thing keeping you going was seeing the boy plaguing your mind for years.

When your house came into view, you felt your heart swell. There were new cracks on the walls, clear signs of age since your departure. You finally made your way up to the front door, knocking steadily before standing back, nervously wringing your hands together.

Watching your father’s expression turn cold when he saw you wasn’t quite how you were expecting the reunion to go, but you still had to find answers.

“Y/N.” His voice was monotone, revealing no emotion in his tone.

“Father.” You forced a smile, jaw clenching when it wasn’t returned.

“You shouldn’t be here, you know you aren’t welcome in this town anymore.” He said, stepping outside and closing the door behind him – it was clear you wouldn’t be spending any time in your childhood home.

“I-”

“You should get going before someone recognizes you.” He continued, folding his arms across his chest.

“Where’s Julian?” You cut in, taking a step towards him. Even if he didn’t want to see you after all these years, you needed to know he was okay.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

You froze, heart sinking into your stomach. Everything you’d fought for…

“What?”

“He left years ago, not long after you did.”

“I didn’t leave, you let that witch take me away!” You raised your voice, anger getting the better of you.

“You don’t belong here, Y/N, you should go.” Tears stung your eyes as your father spoke, nodding as you backed away from your house, gaze dropping to the ground.

“Right.” You cringed at the way your voice cracked, turning away and walking back in the direction you came.

When you glanced up to the castle you felt a tug at your heartstrings thinking about where Julian could have gone – it almost made you want to make the trek up to the castle and demand answers from his family, though it was unlikely how pleased they’d be at your presence.

He was gone for good, so if you were to find him, you knew you had to search elsewhere.

Julian ran through the town, weaving through crowds of people to get to your house. He had gotten a lute and decided he was ready to travel the world. He hadn’t thought through the logistics of leaving – all he knew was that he wanted to see the world with you by his side. He could perform for people to make money, it would all be perfect.

By the time he reached your front door, it was nearly impossible to wipe the smile off of his face. He reached up, knocking steadily before standing back proudly with his lute in hand.

“Julian.” Your mother greeted, smiling down at him. There was something behind her eyes he couldn’t quite decipher, and her smile seemed forced, but it wasn’t nearly enough to dissuade the boy.

“Is Y/N here?” He asked, smile faltering when your mother began to frown.

“She’s… left.” She said, giving him an apologetic look.

“What?”

“She’s gone, Julian.” He stood frozen in place, trying to blink back the tears stinging his eyes.

He nodded solemnly, gaze falling to the ground as he turned away from your house, the feeling of loneliness sinking into his bones and broken heart for good.

Ever since leaving your hometown, you tried to do what you’d planned to do all along.

You’d traveled far from your home, and even after years of being on your own, you found yourself searching for a familiar face in a crowd. You don’t even know if you’d recognize him if you saw him anymore; you hadn’t seen him since you were kids.

While you walked through a forest, straying off the path long ago in favor of trying to clear your mind, you found yourself thinking of Julian again.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was a low growling behind you. You jumped, spinning around to see a creature ready to pounce. Every spell you’d ever learned left your mind as you tried to focus on what to do.

It lunged for you, and you jumped back, instinct taking over as you used your magic to fling it away from you, keeping your arms raised in defense even as it left your line of sight. It was still nearby, only hidden by the trees around you.

That was when you heard the distinct slicing of flesh, and a faint thud onto the forest ground.

Hesitantly, you ventured further into the forest where the sound came from, only to find a man stood above its corpse. He held a sword close to him, dripping with the blood of the thing that tried to kill you.

“You should be more careful around these parts.” He said simply, giving you a once over.

“I could’ve handled it.” You breathed, stepping over its head to stand next to the man. He loomed over you; he was certainly an intimidating figure.

He nodded and began to walk away, not saying anything more to you.

“Wait!” You sped up to catch up to the man, speed walking to match his pace. “You’re a witcher aren’t you?” He hesitated, glancing at you once before looking back ahead of him, grunting in acknowledgment.

“I owe you one.” You finally slowed, allowing him to continue his journey alone. “Until we meet again, witcher.”

The man stopped for only a moment, turning to you. “Until we meet again, witch.”

Years had passed since you’d met the mysterious witcher, but you’d heard of his legacy. A white-haired witcher killing people in Blaviken. It made you wonder what his motives were – he didn’t seem like the type to kill innocents when you met him. Plus, it wasn’t uncommon for unpleasant rumors to spread that were bred from hatred.

But you pressed on your own journey, finding yourself in Posada when you heard whispers of a devil terrorizing the people’s crops. It was a long trek, so you let yourself relax for a night, making your way to the local tavern. Maybe you’d even gather more information on what this devil wants.

Upon entering, you ignored the bard desperately singing to a crowd of annoyed patrons. You weaved past drunk men and grimy tables to an empty spot in the back corner, only to find it was already taken.

“Witcher.” You spoke, approaching the man with confidence. He looked up, brows furrowed.

“Witch.”

“Care for another drink?” You asked, glancing down at his nearly empty cup.

He nodded curtly, and you tossed your stuff down and turned away to the bar.

By now the bard had stopped singing, wording his disapproval at the patrons who were tossing bread at him. You almost laughed at the sight, briefly wondering if Julian had kept pursuing music. He’d been saving up for a lute before you left, and had countless journals with song lyrics scattered through them.

After grabbing two cups of ale, you began to make your way back to the witcher. Surely he was here for the devil of Posada as well.

You almost stopped when you noticed the bard had taken a seat next to your things, enthusiastically trying to speak with the witcher. You strained to listen to their conversation over the noise of the tavern, only catching the bard’s words as you approached.

“You must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

Noting the witcher’s lack of vocabulary, you spoke up, grabbing the bard’s attention.

“They don’t exist.”

The bard turned, fully facing you with eyes that shined with intrigue. “What don’t exist?”

“The creatures in your song,” Geralt said, taking one of the drinks from your hand.

The bard’s attention turned back to Geralt, curiosity growing by the second. “And how would you know?”

His eyes darted to Geralt’s swords, and to your bag that still sat next to him.

“Oh, fun. White hair, big old loner, two very… very scary looking swords. I know who you are.”

Geralt gave you a look, downing the drink and beginning to stand. You step behind the bard, grabbing your bag and doing the same, tagging along behind him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the bard scrambling to his feet, following the two of you.

“You’re the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia.” When Geralt didn’t respond, he yelled out again. “Called it!”

As you saw someone begin to approach Geralt, the bard caught up to you, the curious twinkle still present in his eyes.

“So, you’re no Witcher. Who are you, exactly?” He asked. You stopped, not expecting him to acknowledge your presence.

“Just a mage.” You respond.

“Whoa,” A smile crept its way onto his face. “That’s magnificent.”

You nodded, your smile looking more like a grimace as you remembered all that was taken from you to get to be the mage you were today.

“I’m Jaskier.” He continued, holding his hand out to you.

Jaskier.

It was a beautiful name that fit the man before you in a way you couldn’t describe.

“Y/N.” You said, taking his hand, surprised when he pressed a feather-light kiss to yours.

When he looked back up at you, he paused, staring into your eyes with an unreadable expression.

“That’s a nice name.”

Before he could say anything more, you turned away, side-stepping past the man that was speaking to Geralt as he walked back to his spot at one of the tables. “What did he want?”

“There’s a devil terrorizing the crops in Posada.” You could hear the skepticism in his voice, but a job was a job.

Not far from the castle was a meadow. You found it one afternoon after you took a wrong turn, seeing a young boy the same age as you standing right in the middle of it. He looked so at peace, you were worried about disturbing him. Still, you walked towards him, almost entranced by his presence.

He turned, hearing the rustling as you stepped closer.

“Who are you?” He asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Y/N.” You replied, a small smile on your face.

The boy grinned, walking towards you. “That’s a nice name.”

Finally, he stood right in front of you, only a couple of inches taller.

“What’s your name?” You asked, in awe at how blue his eyes were.

“I’m Julian. Julian Pankratz.”

Defeating the “devil” didn’t go as you and Geralt had planned, but you both managed to make it out with all of your limbs intact.

…As did Jaskier, who decided to tag along.

He halted the constant strumming of his new lute, speeding up to walk beside you.

“So,” His voice was meeker than you expected, not as confident as the boisterous personality he displayed to his audience.

“Was your first adventure to your liking?” You ask, giving him a smile. You had to admit, things were more fun with company.

He hesitated, nodding before he opened his mouth again. “Yeah- uh, yes it was quite thrilling.”

The look in his eyes made you stay quiet, watching intently as he ran his thumb over the callouses on his fingers.

“Where are you from, Y/N?”

You kept walking, balling your hands into a fist while you stared at the road ahead. “I don’t like discussing the past, Jaskier.”

“Right, of course, yes.” He nodded along, glancing at you for a moment before following your gaze. “But if you were to talk about the past…?”

You gave him a look, gaze hardening, and he shut up immediately.

This time he kept pace with you, going back to strumming his lute and crafting a new song about the frightful devil of Posada and the white wolf that heroically saved the day. You grinned when he got to a verse about a beautiful mage with a mysterious past.

That’s how the three of you lived for the next couple of months. You’d travel through towns in search of monsters to destroy, letting Jaskier take creative inspiration and tell the people about your brave adventures. Wherever Geralt went, the two of you followed, growing closer by the day.

On this day, like many others, it was just you and Jaskier. After a couple of jobs, Geralt made it obvious when a job didn’t require your skills.

He’d been gone since morning, leaving the inn before you or Jaskier were even awake, finally bursting through the door a little past noon. You looked up from your spot on the edge of the bed, Jaskier stopping his music playing to let the witcher speak.

“We have a new job.”

“Already?” You asked, standing.

Geralt nodded, not saying another word.

“…Okay?” Jaskier gently set his lute down, looking at Geralt expectantly.

“Gather your things, we’re going to Lettenhove.”

You froze.

“Lettenhove?” Your voice overlapped with Jaskier’s, the both of you giving Geralt an incredulous look.

“We’re leaving soon. Be ready.” And with that, Geralt left the room.

Once you were on the road, Jaskier was trailing after Geralt.

“So… what job are we… exactly… doing?” The bard asked, setting his lute aside in favor of wringing his hands together. You barely noticed how nervous he’d been, too focused on your own fears.

“Tracking down a missing prince,” Geralt said.

Oh fuck. Julian.

“What?” Jaskier’s voice shook, and you sped up to match pace with him.

“Could make for a good song?” Your own voice felt distant. “A lost prince?”

Jaskier nodded halfheartedly, eyes glazed over. The two of you walked together in silence the rest of the way, your mind running at a mile a minute and your heart beating out of your chest.

By the time Lettenhove came into view, it was well after dark. It was silent, all the townsfolk having gone to bed hours ago. For a moment, your mind went to your parents, asleep without the faintest idea of how close to home you were. You knew Jaskier was exhausted, but for the first time in his life, he was silent, walking beside you, his eyes never leaving the castle in the distance.

“We’ll meet with the king and queen in the morning. For now, we find a place to sleep.” Geralt said, not looking at either of you.

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Not only was going back to Lettenhove dangerous enough but letting Geralt drag you along to see Julian’s family again?

“You coming?” Jaskier’s voice brought you out of your daze enough to realize you’d stopped walking. Looking up at him, you forced a smile on your face, nodding.

“Yeah. Just… taking in the sights.”

You caught up to Geralt and Roach, Jaskier trailing behind you.

Geralt managed to get two rooms for the night – you and Jaskier in one, him in the other. That was the way it often went, with you and Jaskier sharing a room even if you could afford to get three. You were comfortable with Jaskier in a way you swore you wouldn’t let anyone be since losing Julian. It scared you a little, being around him. It almost felt like a betrayal, like one day Julian is gonna appear out of the blue and you wouldn’t have been loyal to him.

Loyal? He left too, he has no say over what’s loyal. Don’t be stupid, Y/N.

You shook the thoughts from your head, following Jaskier to the room you were sharing for the night. He seemed more uneasy than usual, even refusing to perform at the tavern before going to bed.

When you reached the door to your room, you stopped, looking at the empty street.

“Y/N?” Jaskier asked, now standing at the foot of the bed.

“I’m gonna scope out the area.” You muttered, not looking back as you turned and walked down the road, the gravel under your feet being the only sound.

The castle rested at the highest point of the town, and as you made your way up the hill, you remembered the countless nights you snuck out of your bedroom to see Julian. The route felt so familiar you could’ve done it blind, even now.

When you were younger, you made the climb up to Julian’s bedroom with ease, clambering up the stones with all the confidence of every reckless child. Now, however, looking up the side of the castle made your heart stop. Taking a deep breath, you reached out, relying on muscle memory to climb up the wall.

Halfway up the wall, your foot slipped on a pile of moss that had grown in your absence. Your heart skipped a beat, and you cursed under your breath, scrambling to regain your footing.

“Fuck this.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, taking another deep breath before you continued your journey – much more carefully.

Your hand finally found the windowsill, hoisting yourself up and inside the room.

It was deathly quiet. Like all life was sucked out of it.

“Hey, Julian,” You said under your breath as if he was still with you, running your hand along an old, dusty bookshelf. “I’ve been looking for you, you know. All over. I’m traveling with a witcher and a bard. You’d love them, you really would.”

Blinking back tears, you began pacing around the room.

“I miss you, Julian.”

Suddenly, the floorboard under your foot creaked. You froze as if someone would hear it and arrest you for trespassing.

After a silent moment passed, you looked down at the floorboard, stepping on it a couple of times to test how loose it was. Leaning down, you began inspecting it, prying it up to find a homemade secret compartment.

“Oh, buttercup, of course.” You grinned, pulling a small journal out and taking a seat.

Flipping to a random page, you furrowed your brows, focusing on the words on the page. It was pieces of lyrics, out of context and unfinished.

“I’m weak my love, and I am wanting.”

“She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss.”

“Her love’s as unfair as a crook. It steals all my reason, commits every treason of logic, with naught but a look.”

Your eyes wandered to the bottom of the page. He seemed to be theorizing stage names. Buttercup was written, but he crossed it out in favor of…

Jaskier.

Your blood ran cold, your heart dropping to the floor.

Julian, your Julian was…

“What are you doing in here?”

You jumped, dropping the journal and looking up at Jaskier- Julian standing in the doorway. Slowly, he shut the door behind him, the rusted hinges squeaking with effort.

“Julian.” The recognition in your voice makes him freeze, his jaw tensing. He folds his arms together, staring you down.

“What are you doing in here?” He repeats, voice laced with venom.

“Buttercup, I-” You begin to stand, reaching out for him when he steps away.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You feel your heart shatter in your chest. “Where were you? I waited for you, you left. Did you ever even care about me?”

“Julian, I love you.” He looks away, shaking his head. His anger was suffocating, pent up after years of waiting only to explode in front of you.

“You promised me! You promised we would travel the world together and you left! I waited for you every day! You don’t get to say you love me, not after you were gone for years!”

Before you could say another word, Jaskier storms off, slamming the door behind him and marching through the halls you once knew like the back of your hand. You stood there in shock, the silence ringing in your ears and your heart smashed to pieces on the floor.

It felt like hours passed before you slowly made your way back out of the castle, leaving the way you came. You trudged down the streets of Lettenhove, taking a long look at the inn in the distance before you turned the opposite direction, walking to the entrance of the forest on the outskirts of town, following the path known only by you and Julian.

“Come on!” Julian grinned, pulling you by the hand towards the outskirts of town.

“Where are we going?” You asked, nearly tripping over an exposed tree root.

He ran through the forest, weaving around trees and bramble until he stopped at a cliffside, turning to you with a triumphant grin.

“It can be our spot! Untouched by anyone else!” He let go of your hand, spreading his arms to present the view behind him.

“Whoa,” You gasped, stepping up to the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sky. “How did you find this?”

“Went exploring. Wanted a quiet place to… breathe.” He absentmindedly kicked a rock, eyes fixed on the ground.

“It’s beautiful.”

You stood at the cliffside, fighting back tears. Gently, you sat yourself down, legs hanging over the cliffs as the inklings of a sunrise crawled into the horizon.

Hearing the distant footsteps makes you tense. You don’t turn around, knowing there’s only one person who’d come looking for you out here.

When Jaskier got back to the inn, he quietly slipped into his room, practically jumping out of his skin when he saw Geralt standing in the middle of the room.

“Don’t-” He held his hand over his chest, catching his breath. “Don’t do that!”

“You’re an idiot.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, straightening up. “Thank you so much for your much-needed wisdom, care to elaborate on what I did this time?”

“She cares about you.” He said simply, watching Jaskier collapse onto the bed.

“Geralt-”

“Whatever you did-”

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” Jaskier sat up straight from his spot on the bed, staring down the witcher. Geralt gave him a pointed look, and Jaskier sighed.

“She loves you, Jaskier. You have to be a fool not to see that.”

Without another word, Geralt made his way out of the room, leaving Jaskier alone with his thoughts.

“I always loved this view.” Jaskier’s voice is quiet, barely audible above the wind rustling through the trees.

“Did Geralt send you?” You asked, not looking at him. If you did, the guilt in his eyes would’ve surely killed you.

“He… knocked some sense into me, yes.” He sat next to you, gauging your reaction before he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

“I tried to come back.” You whispered, eyes glazing over when you remembered how hard you fought to get home.

“I know, love.”

“You were already gone,” You continued, staring out at the sky. “I kept looking for you. Every day I searched for you, that’s how I met Geralt.”

Jaskier smiled, his eyes lit up in a way that made your heart flutter. “I love you, my dear heart.”

You turned to face him, his face inches from yours. “I love you so much, buttercup.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, a blush painting his cheeks as he turned away from you.

“I will never tire of hearing you call me that.”

“I will never tire of saying it, buttercup.”

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #dandelion x reader #dandelion imagine

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sushisocks · 6 months

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Hey there! I believe you said in another post that the final confrontation would be unlikely to happen if lenny and sean were alive, so i'd like to ask if you could expand on that pls(if u havent already and i just didnt see it lol)

Btw on a side note im actually super invested in your sean content😭😭the fandom seems to only talk ab him to label as an idiot, so as a fellow sean lover the way you characterize him has me so in love❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oh Anon you are SO LOVELY!!! Thank you not only in giving me the opportunity to rant more about Sean and Lenny (which I am always so willing to do), but also for your super kind words!! Sean is very dear to me, and I'm glad my reading into him as much as I do strikes a chord with other people ;;u;;

The way the general fandom often characterizes him isn't very surprising to me, given his personality & the surface level impressions he gives, but maybe for now I'll save THAT rant for another time, else we stay here forever lmaoo

So, to start answering your question, I believe you're talking about my post from a few months ago, where I talk about how I believe Sean & Lenny would've sided with Arthur & John if they'd lived to see the final confrontation. In it I mention how I find that final confrontation a lot more unlikely were Lenny & Sean to survive that far and stick around for the entire thing.

Now, WHY do I believe this? I touch on it briefly in that original post, but let's really get into it here!!

Okay to start off, there's a LOT of ways I see things going, in regards to Sean and Lenny, were they both to survive, because it adds SO MANY variables, but let's start at the very top.

At a meta level, it is important to recognize that RDR2 is a prequel to RDR1. This meant from the get that RDR2, as it is canonically, was bound to a certain outcome, to set up for RDR1. This ALSO means, that every step from the start of RDR2 was very much there not only to lay the groundwork for the end of RDR2 but also add another emotional layer to RDR1. This is all certainly things we are aware of already, but I think it's important to have that context in mind while we talk about alternative outcomes.

Because, see, Sean and Lenny HAD to die for the outcome in RDR2 to be the one it is. Not only them, but Hosea, Kieran, Molly, and Susan's deaths are ALL integral and important to the story, they ALL make a difference and contribute in pushing the story a certain way, and in reinforcing the steadily increasing hopelessness which infest the gang from Sean's death and out.

So if we're like "what if none of them died?" there are suddenly a LOT of new variables for every mission and every scenario we know from the game, which need to be considered. This is true EVEN if the change in survival count is only reduced to Lenny & Sean.

How different do you not think Shady Belle would have felt, initially, without Sean's death hanging over it? What about the bank job -- would Lenny & Sean end up on the boat to Guarma? What would've happened to them there, then? Would either of them be caught by the Pinkertons instead, with John or in his stead maybe? What other options would there have been, where would they end up at the end of that?

And already here we have to consider how those experiences might've impacted them psychologically, because of who they are.

In the post I mentioned earlier, I talk about how Lenny is new to the gang and probably isn't as stuck in it mentally as Arthur and John, nor do Sean and Lenny have the same emotional attachment/baggage in regards to Dutch. They're loyal of course, because they feel a sense of obligation to the gang, because it provides them with safety, friends, and allies, in an otherwise unkind world.

But what then happens when that changes?

How do you expect Sean and Lenny to respond when the gang starts turning on itself? When Dutch visibly starts losing it? When people start snapping at each other and threatening one another in the middle of camp?

(I have a half-formed thought here about how people would ABSOLUTELY be snapping and talking down to Sean in a way more cruel way towards the end of the game, for trying to keep things light and easy, yknow, fulfilling his role in the gang. I can only imagine what that'd end up doing to him, tbh.)

And, I'll be repeating myself from other posts here, but how do you think Lenny, a young black man painfully aware of the social structure as it exists in America at that point in time, would react to realizing what Dutch's plan with the Wapiti is? Same goes for Sean, who has SEVERAL instances through the game showing him just as politically aware as Lenny - certainly moreso than Arthur.

Would the outcome for the Wapiti tribe be the same, do you think, if Charles had more people than a very sick and tired Arthur to lean on, willing to help? Would Lenny in particular want to stick around to see Dutch attempt to drive the tribe into the ground for his own gain?

Also, I'm sorry but like, Lenny has a camp interaction with Dutch where he disagrees with him (about Miller, Dutch's favorite author) and explains why in a very well-articulated manner. In one instance, Dutch gets straight up offended by it, bcz Lenny can argue very well (and is RIGHT mind you lol).

I do absolutely believe that Lenny would not just sit around quietly in Beaver Hollow. I'd expect him to be among the most vocal in their discontent with the situation, and probably the best at arguing against Dutch.

That is, up until a certain point. Lenny is a young black boy, and Dutch is a white authority figure. Watch Dutch snap and yell at him, like he does John in Ch6 for example, and see how much longer Lenny sticks around fr. The trade is loyalty for safety and the same in kind. Why do you think members start leaving when things start looking their worst? And don't you think Lenny would be among the first to see the writing on the wall?

Though that is hinging on that very specific vibe in Beaver Hollow, where they're all scattered and losing their ties to one another. Add then in Sean, who is VITAL as social glue, and for making conversations easier. If he, and Lenny, and Mary-Beth, Tilly, Arthur, Charles, etc etc, insert your favorites here, managed to retain some of that community feeling, despite it all, then I absolutely see Lenny sticking around for them.

Same goes for Sean, tbh. I can see him leaving earlier, bcz the trade stops being equal and bcz he's not being taken seriously, and I can see him staying, for his friends.

There IS also a version of things where things are similar and I do see Sean siding with Dutch; but that is a very sad and lonely Sean, who is VERY different from where he's at in Clemens Point, and I think that's an unfair perspective to take for him in general.

Okay so, now we're back to that final confrontation, after I said I found it unlikely, why is that? Because, with every question I've posed thus far, about what Lenny & Sean's reactions might've been to canon events after their deaths, I have essentially presented a variable that comes with their survival to those points. Them being there for it, HAS to mean a change, has to mean something different happens, because their deaths are direct contributors to the path we already know the story takes WITHOUT their presences.

Now, what are those differences and changes? I honestly can't answer; something being different earlier or later can butterfly-effect into something completely new or remarkably similar to what we already know. I could sit here all day and wax poetic about all the different options and possibilities for where things could go, were ANY character to survive past their death point, BUT thankfully, that is what fanfiction is for, lol.

I hope this satisfied some of your curiosity, dear anon!! It was a lot of fun for me to write and think about, so thank you very much for asking!!!

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption meta #rdr2 #sean macguire #lenny summers #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #rdr thoughts #teki talks #long post #im sorry this took me a while to answer i had to sleep and then do my irl things and then Stew on this for a while #i hope this all made sense tbh idk if i lost the plot at some point in there. im SURE there's a tangent or two but yknow #ALSO if youre interested in reading a potential take on how things couldve gone if Sean and Lenny survived to chapter 6 #my fic Attentive Vigor is a soulmate au game rewrite where their survival is VITAL for the ending to be different from what we know #im almost finished with it! 4 chapters left that im really excited to share #if you like macsummers and sean whump it's got a lot of that after you get past the initial chapters lol #had to do a lil plug lol bcz this topic hits v close to home after all #asks #rdr asks #meta asks

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rookthorne · 1 year

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐆𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥, 𝐆𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥, 𝐆𝐧𝐨𝐞𝐥

Little Soldiers, come one and all, for when there are Christmas pranks to be had, no one shall lose out.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 2.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Crack, fluff, Sweets is very Sneaky (so is Peter)

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✰ In the past three years I have watched my mother grow more steadily obsessed with gnomes and well, this is the result.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✰ Merry Fuckin’ Christmas — Masterlist

𝑶𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒉 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆; 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔, 𝒔𝒊𝒙 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔…

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was inconspicuous, unexpected even. You dared to call it your best plan yet, to be quite honest. An amassed army of festive soldiers, of a stature and appearance that no one would expect - a Christmas surprise and plan no one could venture a guess.

You were a harbinger of chaos, after all.

The first one was by far the biggest shock. Peter and Steve were toiling away in the garage, fiddling with and tuning Peter’s Dyna, when it happened.

You were with Nat in the clubhouse just conversing away over a cup of coffee, a harmless way to start your day. Suddenly, a shout of raucous laughter echoed from the garage and through the open door, and you sat up straighter in an attempt to discern who it was. Not even a moment later Peter jogged through the door, a grin so big on his face you were surprised he hadn’t pulled all the muscles in his cheeks.

With a quick glance towards you, Peter ambled forward and heaved for breath against the fits of giggles.

“Wha- are you alright?” You rushed, a hesitant smile on your face. You couldn’t give away that you knew, just yet anyway.

“What did you do, Sweets?” Peter huffed, and you heard the loud bootfalls from the doorway before you felt a set of eyes on you.

Turning on your stool, your gaze going from a bemused Peter, to a brooding Steve - his brows were pinched in confusion, but a slight smirk gave away that he truly wasn’t mad. “Hey, Stevie,” you said simply, trying your hardest to sound innocent. Nat snorted beside you.

Steve’s hand raised, and you noticed a small woollen hat peeking out from his grasp. Before you could question him, he reached forward and grabbed your free hand to deposit the item in your open palm.

It was a gnome.

A harmless, tiny, Christmas gnome that you affectionately named Jangle.

You of course knew that, having planned all of this after all, but seeing the first tiny little soldier be found - it did wonders for bolstering your sense of mischief.

“Found this fella in my tools, Sweets,” Steve said, watching your face carefully. You tried your best to school your expression into staying neutral. “Any idea how he got there?”

The gnome in your hand felt soft with its felt clothes and fluffy beard, and you considered your answer. Should you be honest? Should you play the lie a little bit longer? Deciding on the latter, you looked back up at Steve and smiled. “Wouldn’t have a clue,” you hummed, the nail in the coffin springing to mind. “Maybe Sam does, he’s been acting shifty.”

Natasha didn’t bother to hide her laugh as she looked between the two of you, Peter having left to go back to the garage while shaking his head.

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “I’ll be sure to watch ‘im.” He turned and followed in Peter’s steps.

A shove to your elbow made you squeak in shock and almost topple sideways off the stool. “What the hell, Nat!”

“You are such a devil, Sweets,” Nat chided, sipping her coffee. “You’ll get the boys in on this prank war, and it’ll be chaos.”

If only she knew.

The second little soldier was found a few hours later. The boys, bless them, had severely underestimated the amount of food they’d need for a cookout in the coming days, and Sam offered to head off to at least try and remedy the situation.

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky said, his fingers rubbing at his temples. You frowned from your place on the couch, pausing your task of fiddling with cutlery for said cookout. Bucky looked exhausted.

“No worries, man,” Sam said, making his way to the door and saluting on his way out.

You knew what was coming, but it didn’t help with the shock, nor the hilarity of the situation.

A few moments later, Sam had appeared back in the doorway. His stance was menacing, intimidating, and he was looking straight at you. There was no pretence now, you were busted.

“Sam?” Bucky asked, getting to his feet to interfere if needed.

Sam, however, didn’t move an inch. His gaze was burning through you and you started to feel nervous, the drum of your heart just a bit harsher than it would normally be.

“What’re you up to, Sweets?” Sam asked, and Bucky looked at you, so did Nat and Steve. You had no idea where Peter was, and you were grateful - he was your partner in crime and there was no doubt that your innocent facade would crack under the slightest stifled laugh from him.

You stared back at Sam, determinedly keeping your face impassive. “Nothing, why?”

The gnome in his hand shone under the light. Its hat was covered in sequins, the fluffy beard looking like freshly fallen snow. Jingle, that was Jingle.

“I found this lil’ dude in my pannier, Sweets,” Sam continued, ignoring the shocked look from both Bucky and Steve. “How’d he get there?”

“I have no idea, Sammy,” you say confidently, proud that the waver in your voice was barely noticeable.

“Hold on,” Bucky started, staring between the two of you. “Pete said Steve found one this morning, what the hell is goin’ on?”

“I dunno, babe,” you answer quickly, cutting Steve off with a look as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden realisation dawning on his face as to who really was the prankster.

Jingle suddenly landed in your lap and you jumped, staring up at Sam incredulously. “I’ll be back, and he,” Sam pointed at the gnome, “better not find his way back to my bike.”

Sam turned and walked out into the lot, leaving a confused silence behind where Bucky looked at you curiously. You just shrugged your shoulders and moved Jingle so they sat right next to their comrade, Jangle.

The next instalment to the journey of your Christmas gnomes happened just before midday. You were sitting with Bucky on the couch, after you had convinced him to rest his head in your lap so you could run your fingers through his hair. A scraping sound echoed when Nat got to her feet. “I’m going to make coffee.”

“Yes, please,” Bucky mumbled in response and you held up two fingers to Nat, who nodded in acknowledgement.

There were a few small clangs as Nat set about making coffee, then deathly silence. Not a peep, not a sound.

It was near impossible to hide the grin, but you had to try.

“Sweets!” Natasha yelled from the kitchen, and Bucky turned his head to look up at you from your lap, a single brow raised in question.

“What’d you do now, doll,” he whispered just as the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor grew nearer.

Your gaze ripped from Bucky up towards Natasha. She was standing against the bar counter, her gaze hard and leaving no room to hide. “What are you up to?” Nat said smoothly - almost too calm.

“Why is everyone assuming it’s me?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at her closed fist, holding an object - of which you knew was Joy.

How ironic, you thought.

Joy flew at you from across the room and you caught it, hearing Nat retreat back to the kitchen. You placed the gnome on Bucky’s forehead with a cheeky smile, and Bucky just stared up at you, almost in disbelief. “You’re weird,” he said simply.

You just winked and relaxed back against the couch cushion, eagerly awaiting for the next little soldier to be found.

As if fate had heard your call, you hadn’t needed to wait long whatsoever.

“Sweets! Sweets, where are you?”

Peter.

That was Peter.

“In here, Pete!” You called from the kitchen, cleaning up the space while Bucky and Steve worked in Church.

Peter appeared in the doorway looking delighted, and it took a moment to register as to why. A gnome was in his sudden outstretched hand, its knobbly hat blue and red, and the fluffy beard resting over Peter’s knuckles.

“What’s its name?” Peter whispered, and you felt overjoyed. Finally, someone enjoyed finding one of your little soldiers.

“Kandi,” you answered. “Did you like where it was hidden?”

Peter beamed and nodded. “Very sneaky, Sweets.”

“Actually, Pete,” you rushed, and he looked at you with wide eyes. “I need your help.”

Jangle, Jingle, and Joy were sitting on the shelves that held the stockings, and you were just placing Kandi next to Joy when another soldier was found.

“I can’t even take a shit in peace!” Steve bellowed down the hall, and you chuckled. That’ll be Kringle.

“Rogers, shut the fuck up!” Bucky yelled back, his eyes rolling as his Vice President came into view from the games room couch.

“Seriously, Sweets,” Steve said, exasperated and exhausted by your supposed actions. “What’re you doin’, and when will it end?”

You took Kringle from his fist and shrugged. “It’s not me,” you insisted, but he wasn’t taking the bait.

“You’re lyin’, darlin’, I swear to-”

“Steve, I’m only gonna say this one more time,” Bucky interrupted from his place on the couch, his heated gaze boring into Steve’s pleading expression - he was always cranky when he had a headache. “Shut the fuck up.”

An hour later, Bucky had finally stepped outside to wheel his bike into the garage for a general look over. He had mumbled something about an oil change - or something - as he brushed past you and placed a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed happily, knowing what was coming next.

Bucky’s bootfalls suddenly could be heard over the quiet Christmas carols you were playing as you moved around the bar.

Oh no.

“Sweetheart, doll, love of my life,” Bucky drawled, caging you against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your middle. You turned your head and saw him watching you. It was a wonder if he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating through your back and against his chest. “Who’s this fella? Sittin’ on my handlebars like they owned my damn bike.”

A gnome appeared in your vision, it’s attire red and gold with a star on it’s woollen hat.

You hesitated, and took a deep breath. “That’s Merry.”

“Merry, huh?” Bucky wondered aloud, the arm around your middle squeezing you once before he let you go. You turned and watched as he dug his phone out from his jeans pocket. “I have an ideer, we better mark this merryfull occasion with an elfie.”

“Oh my God.”

Bucky laughed and pulled you flush against his chest again while you held Merry, a bright smile on your face as he took the photo. “I went where snowman has gone before, doll,” he winked and headed back out the clubhouse door, leaving you with Merry.

“That was awful,” you whispered fondly.

The second to last soldier, Sparkle, was found barely even thirty minutes later. It was mid-afternoon and Nat had made her way down from cleaning Steve’s apartment - the ever-loving girlfriend she was - to the bar for a shot of vodka, all in name of the Christmas spirit, of course.

Sam had arrived back to the clubhouse about an hour before, so he walked over to the bar to share a drink with the fiery redhead. You watched from your place in the kitchen, eagerly awaiting just how much trouble you would be in once the two of them realised.

Nat reached for her favourite vodka bottle blindly, poured two shots, and put the bottle down against the wood of the bar with a solid thunk. The two of them downed their shots and Sam looked up, his expression morphing from a wince against the burn of the alcohol, to one of pure exasperation.

“What is it, Wilson?” Nat asked, running her thumb along the rim of her glass.

“Look behind you.”

You watched as Nat did so, and you stifled the fit of giggles when you watched her shoulders slump in resignation, almost too tired to even bother seeking you out to chastise you.

“Goddammit, Sweets,” she muttered, and Sam nodded.

“I’ll drink to that.”

The pièce de résistance, the culmination of everything, neared closer and closer as the hours ticked on.

It was beginning to grow dark as the sun set, the boys were all out in the garage with their bikes and you and Nat were lounging on the couch once again, watching a festive film that was playing on a local station. However, you couldn’t pay much attention.

Bucky had called Church not too long ago - just a small meeting to talk about some ‘loose ends’, and Peter had promised to help you out earlier that day.

“Alright,” Bucky sighed as he walked through the door, followed by Steve, Sam, and Peter. “Let’s get this over with.”

As Bucky passed you by he placed a kiss on your temple, for which Steve did the same with Nat, and they ambled on towards the double doors of Church. “Pete,” you hissed quietly, and he responded with a covert thumbs up as Sam turned. Perfect.

The doors opened with a low creak, a beat of silence, and then shouts of laughter.

“What in the hell,” Bucky started, looking over his shoulder at you with a disbelieving grin stretched over his lips. “What is this?”

You decided to blow your cover.

“That’s Twinkle, and they’re gonna be the new President of the 107th, babe.”

The fact that you hadn’t recorded this was a crime. Bucky and Steve literally fell to their knees with laughter, Sam was leaning against the wall fighting tears, and Peter was already on the floor, hiccuping through bouts of cheer. Nat was holding her head in her hands while her shoulder shook with mirth, and you got to your feet holding your head high - proud of what you had done.

Twinkle, a gnome of the highest calibre with their own kutte made of felt and a giant red star on their hat, sat at the head of the table on the solid wood, the gavel just in reach of its non-existent arms.

A proud, tough, and bad-ass gnome; the epitome of what the club needed.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #Brotherhood & Bullets #B&B #GGG #rookthorne's works

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anglbrkr · 1 year

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since you asked and im interested.... cockwarming father james in a confessional ;))

aww yeah

CW: yeah ok so not cockwarming anymore, i got too into it and now its just stealth sex, amab genitalia

longer than 1k

no typos exist in this work

2.5k

[N]’s jaw slackens, twitching as he slowly lowers himself onto the priest's cock, his tight ring quivering around it like a velvet glove that wants nothing more than to be filled. His head rolls back against James' shoulder, exposing his euphoria-filled face while his hips buck up into the air in eagerness; gasping softly between each thrust upward, tongue flickering out to wet his lips again before they flutter shut and swallow them once more. It's almost enough to make [N] want to do something other than sit passively atop the gorgeous prick pumping inside of him—he's not entirely sure about doing it in such a place... But then those fingers slide from beneath his chin down his chest, wrapping themselves around his left nipple and tugging gently on it. And so instead of moving aside, or doing anything really except watching the hand squeeze that sensitive little nubbin hard enough to nearly break off, he decides just to give in and enjoy the feeling of being used...

The confessional is small and cramped, and it seems like even his breath echoes throughout it all, but Father James is eager to suggest they do it in here, "We can't get caught this way, no one will come in.." The priest whispers hoarsely as his hands reach for [N]'s hips, gripping tightly and lifting the younger male's ass upwards slightly, sliding his dick deeper within the warm depths until [N] is snug on his lap. James smirks at [N] who moans deeply and shivers excitedly under the older man, his eyelids growing heavy as his arousal grows, heat pooling low in his belly and spreading throughout his entire lower half; his breaths growing louder and heavier in tandem with his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

"Father..." [N] whines lightly, trying to keep his voice hushed though it feels far too loud in his own mind. In fact, he'd swear someone could hear what they were doing right outside these walls, even with the door firmly locked behind him.

But James doesn't seem bothered by any sort of sound pollution whatsoever, rocking his cock upward, eliciting another moan from [N]'s throat, only serving to excite the young man further. His nerves are stretched taut and exposed, his body craving more of everything - touch, taste, feel, smell; all of it. Everything but words, because they never did much for either of them anyway.

"Sshh, my lamb," the older man murmurs soothingly, thumb trailing over [N]'s cheekbone, down along his neck to his collar bone where his hand curls protectively around it. "I've got you." He pauses, sucking on the shell of [N]'s earlobe tenderly and moaning.

"What if people hear," [N] whispers, unable to turn and meet the priest's eyes, afraid that if he does, he'll lose himself completely. Instead, he focuses wholly on the throbbing pulse hidden inside his walls, or the shallow hitch of the man's breathing across his shoulder. He tenses and untenses around the older man's shaft, and it's painfully obvious he's enjoying it, every inch of [N] tightening around the thick flesh, making him groan hotly, burying his nose in [N]'s neck, inhaling sharply. "What if they see?" he adds, desperate to ask, but unsure how.

James hums lowly, nipping the side of [N]'s jaw and squeezing his hip tighter against him, "We won't let anyone know," he promises quietly. His fingers curl, digging into [N]'s skin to hold him still as he fucks him steadily, dragging out slow, shallow strokes that tease and push, enticing [N] higher and higher towards release.

His nails scrape lightly against [N]'s skin, leaving indents that only serve to drive [N] wilder. The heat building inside of [N] reaches unbearable levels, and he leans heavily into James' embrace, shuddering faintly as his orgasm begins to boil inside of him, beginning with the quickening beat of his heart and blossoming outward, curling its way up his spine and spilling forth from his mouth.

It's a quiet cry, barely audible through clenched teeth, but the pleasure proves to be too much. An open-mouthed, trembling sound of need escapes his throat and makes his muscles tighten impossibly more, sending tremors of bliss rolling through his frame. Every nerve ending is alive with sensation, every movement of James' long slender fingers pleasurable, and the deep rumblings vibrating in his stomach only heighten the intensity of it all.

[N] trembles, weak-kneed and panting, straining his neck forward, offering his lips to James. The priest kisses him, his hand beginning to steadily jerk the young man's previously ignored cock, the added motion speeding the climax. It erupts hotly in a few seconds, filling the confessional, and prompting [N] to press his hands over his mouth, muffling his cries of satisfaction. A hot flush spreads over him and his knees buckle, knocking his legs together and forcing him flat upon the floorboards beneath them, moaning breathlessly and hunching over, resting his forehead on the cool wooden panel that separates them from the other room, letting his hips rise and fall lazily with each labored breath.

After several minutes, [N] finally relaxes, snuggling close to James and sighing contentedly.

"You're still so hard," he manages to whisper, feeling the older man's cock pulse inside him, not quite wanting it to leave, enjoying the feeling of James so deep inside him.

With a grin, James caresses [N]'s bare thighs. The younger man is bare before him, his clothing neatly under the bench, while James sweats underneath his cassock, the hem of the long garment pushed back, allowing his length to impale the young man. "Just you sitting on my cock is enough, my child," the older man replies softly, smiling down at [N] and pressing his lips to the younger man's. Their tongues dance together as they kiss, sloppily at first but soon becoming rougher, hungrier; loving, and passionate.

The sound of the confessional next to them opening interrupts their kiss. They both freeze, startled, looking over at the entrance, and listening closely. With a gasp, [N] goes to lift himself off of James' lap, only to be met the priest's arm bringing him down, his other hand covering the young man's mouth.

Their heartbeats echo throughout the booth, not even accompanied by their breaths, [N] biting his lip nervously as he tries desperately to stop his heartbeat from beating wildly and betraying him to whoever may have entered the confessional. After a moment of silence, James removes his hand from the other's mouth, turning to look at the wall separating him from his neighbor. For just a split second, [N] sees a panic flash in the older man's eyes, but it fades quickly; replaced by determination and resolve.

"Do not worry about me, my pet," he murmurs softly, running his fingertips across [N]'s cheekbones before cupping his chin gently, tilting his head back toward him. "Let's continue with discretion, yes? If we move very quietly, perhaps you will even be able to help finish me off."

[N] swallows audibly, nodding wordlessly at the suggestion. This had better work, he thinks frantically. Otherwise, God only knows how many parishioners might find out what happened here...

He lifts his hips and James sighs, his forehead laying in the crook of his neck and shoulders, whispering softly into his ear, "If I promise to reward your obedience, will you obey, my sweet?" James asks in a deep sultry tone.

[N] hesitates for just a moment longer, but it isn't fear that holds him back anymore; it's excitement. He nods once, determinedly and without reservation. And thus, with a gentle shift of weight to lower himself, [N] rocks against James, easing his tip back into his welcoming warmth; meeting him halfway so that when he lowers himself fully he doesn't bottom out immediately; gliding back and forth across the full length of his member until it finds purchase inside the older man, sliding easily past his prostate and settling in place. There's a brief pause, and James chuckles softly, shifting just a bit to angle his hips upward and take most of [N]'s weight upon his erection.

The priest softly ruts against him possessively, gritting his teeth as he moves, moving slowly as possible, knowing that it wouldn't go unnoticed for long should they make any noise. But neither cares. The simple act of being buried so intimately against each other fills them both with desire, leaving them consumed by animalistic instincts; primal urges bubbling up in their chests that cannot be denied or suppressed. The mere thought of anyone finding them here sends him into a frenzy, which causes him to rock harder than he'd intended to, jerking slightly against him; eliciting a soft gasp from the younger male.

"Sorry," James pants, kissing [N]'s shoulder and stroking his hair soothingly as he works his hips. "I'm sorry...don't stop." His fingers slide down [N]'s face, tracing the curve of his neck as they travel downward, and then wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. "Don't stop..." he repeats huskily, licking [N]'s neck suggestively before nibbling on the sensitive spot behind his ear. "Please don't stop..."

A small whimper slips free of [N]'s chest and James moans deeply at the sound, humping upwards inside him, grinding their pelvises together roughly, relishing the tightness he feels within [N]'s channel gripping him tightly.

The confessional beside them creeks open once more, but now, it's clear that the person is intent on coming in. Dread rises within [N], his breath catching in his throat and causing a tremor to roll through his core; reminding him all too vividly of why they were doing this in the first place.

"Forgive me, Father," a voice rasps in the booth beside them, "For I have sinned."

[N] can hear James gulp behind him, and feel the older man's heartbeat against his back. He bites his lip again, trying to keep his own heart rate steady, though he doesn't manage it all too well. It's easy to forget about such things when you've been swept away by the sensations coursing through your body, but the knowledge of who was approaching them brought everything back into focus.

"What sins do you confess to me?" James asks calmly, moving his hands to rest on the young man's sides.

There's a long pause, during which [N] tries vainly to remain calm even though his brain has completely short-circuited. Finally, the voice answers.

"Well, last week I got caught up in some trouble with some friends," the speaker says slowly, obviously nervous. "And uhm- -well, um-"

James nods, clearly listening, yet his cock pulsates deep inside [N], making the other male squirm uncomfortably beneath him. "Go ahead," the older man encourages after a couple of minutes, rubbing circles along [N]'s thigh. "Tell me what happened."

"We, we were just trying to have fun, and went into this abandoned building, uh..." They pause, as if gathering their courage, then continue on hesitantly, "... and there weren't any lights. We didn't really think anything would happen. It seemed like nothing bad could come out of it, right? Just fooling around."

James hums softly, continuing to run his palms up and down the young man's back absently as he listens attentively.

"But we started messing about anyway," they continue, sounding embarrassed, "and vandalized a bunch of things.. and broke a lot of stuff because it was empty."

The confessioner sound hesitant, unsure, and James merely strokes [N]'s back reassuringly, encouragingly. Slowly, he ruts his hips upward into [N], rocking his member just enough that the heat between them becomes evident.

"And the authorities got involved, and we ran," the anonymous person finishes. "It's not the full story, I don't know what anyone would think if it was the full story... but I just.. need to tell someone. Please forgive us, forgive me.."

"My child, please," James whispers quietly into [N]'s ear, yet loud enough to be picked up from the , rolling his hips faster against him. "Your guilt is only proof that you lack sins." His eyes droop, licking his lips as he hears [N] begin to pant, pleasure beginning to build within them both as he humps against [N] softly, unable to resist pushing harder against the younger male's constricting walls. "God forgives those who are repentant," he mutters lowly, kissing [N]'s temple tenderly. "Are you repentant?" He asks in return, his words spoken almost reverentially. "Have you truly repented?" He growls hotly as he begins to rut into [N] harder, needing something, demanding more satisfaction. He needs the boy beneath him to moan with blissful abandon and let go of all inhibitions and worries. To give in to the pure sensation. He wants [N] to be filled with ecstasy and lose himself in their connection so badly he aches for it, begging silently for forgiveness.

"... Father, are you okay? You're breathing hard." The voice on the other side notes, quiet, like they want to take the comment back. Instead of fear, hot arousal fills [N] as he hears the priest's arousal be noted. When he looks up, he catches sight of James' eyes burning into him intently, unblinking and focused solely upon him as the older man thrusts steadily. Pride fills him because it's him who's making James react like this, lose his self-control.

His vision blurring with pleasure, "Y-Yes..."James whimpers softly and kisses [N] fiercely, softly moaning into his mouth as he continues to grind against him with increasing urgency.

"Are you sure..?"

[N] rubs the head of his cock, his thumb grazing his slit and rubbing lightly over it. He gasps softly, pressing his thighs tighter together around his shaft, the friction of his hand sending shivers throughout his entire frame. His breathing quickens further still as he does this, the slow movements of his hips causing his erection to swell impossibly larger within his trousers. With shaky breaths, he keeps rubbing, wanting to prolong the feeling just a little while longer, hoping to delay the release. James nods at the confessioners question, forgetting for a second that he can't be seen.

"Y-yes, my child, everything is perfect," he licks his lips, watching [N] pleasure himself, "it's perfect..." His grip tightens briefly upon his hip as he watches [N] squeeze his sac, tugging at his testicles with delicate motions of his fist. A pleased smile forms on James' lips at the sight; knowing exactly what he's going to do next.

[N] groans low, arching his spine forward slightly as his palm slides across his slicken flesh.

"O-oh God..." He breathes hoarsely, biting his lip as he rolls his sac teasingly between his fingers, coaxing another moan from deep within him. His hips shake gently, matching the rhythm of his motion to the pressure of his hands upon his dick as it teases and taunts him with its touch.

"Father..?" the voice sounds concerned, and [N] glances towards the doorway, surprised that the person hasn't left already. Hesitant curiosity warms his cheeks faintly as he returns his attention to his pleasure, squeezing around the priest's thick member until he moans, a harsh sound escaping his mouth that makes him blush furiously.

"You may leave now," James murmurs, his eyes fixed on [N] as he pushes deeper inside the young man, filling him fully. "Thank you for your confession." The doors on the other side creek, and the person's step hurriedly fades out of earshot as they exit. They don't even wait.

#have sex have sex #james will fuck anywhere #james will fuck on the alter #james will make up a fake religion or holiday dedicated to fucking #james wants to fuck so bad #if i make more james stuff ill have to go into detail on his devotion #male! reader #male reader insert #male reader #x male reader #anon.txt

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ajaxpilled · 7 months

Note

How would 5nemo react to stomach pains? I love the whole 5 anemo boy polycule 🥺

apologies for the mess (and lateness) im writing on the rush hour train :""

venti is used to stomachaches; too many sparkling ciders and sour apples have left him with enough hangovers and reflux to be a little too familiar with the concept. he brushes it off in public, but in privacy with his partners he makes a scene of melodrama and self-pity - telling kazuha that he thinks he's dying, that he can't lead a nation of freedom in this state, and pleasewillyoumakemesomesoup. he sprawls across heizou's lap, groaning and throwing an arm over his eyes with a sigh, and my stomach really hurts heizou, can't you kiss it better?

heizou ignores any twinges or pains in his stomach in favour of more urgent matters. he works on through lunch, and pretends the hollow ache growing steadily just under his rib cage doesn't exist, instead opting to bury himself back into the report he's working on. it's easy to ignore - it's just the usual churning nausea his stomach pesters him with when he's too busy to eat, or consuming too much caffiene. nothing he can't brush off. nothing worth losing his flow for. he occasionally slips his hand over his stomach, adding a little pressure to soothe the cramps he's beginning to experience. if somebody asks, he has no problem admitting his stomach is a little off, but is always baffled when they sympathetically tell him to take it easy or go home. it's just a sore stomach after all. something everybody gets everyday, right? just a part of life. some days even he knows he goes a little too long without eating, or eats something too heavy on his starved stomach. kazuha fails to hide his deadpan "told you so" expression when he finds him hiding around the corner, doubled over and clutching his stomach, eyebrows furrowed and deep breaths coming difficultly.

it's the times he's quiet that it really hurts. reminiscing on days gone by and friends long gone until he makes himself ill, his chest sinking endlessly and his stomach tying in knots over all the things he could've done differently. he curls up in bed to avoid everybody. the only person he wants to see when he feels this way is xiao - who's there in an instant when his name passes through venti's head, a silent, longing thought in passing, but he's there all the same. he wordlessly slips into the bed and holds the bard in his arms. he doesn't know much in the ways of treatment. he doesn't know much about keeping the sadness away. what he has learned, is that burdens are more easily shouldered when shared amongst others; and so he plays with his hair and rubs his tummy the way he likes it, with slow, wide circles. he brings him apple slices and herbal teas that will be light on his stomach when he has no appetite and brushes his hair when he stays in bed for far too long, caring for his love's fragile mortal frame for as long as need be.

again...?

it's just a stomachache.

...you need to take your health more seriously. you won't be in so much pain all the time.

with a sad sigh he takes heizou home and makes him a soothing green tea and a heatpack for his stomach - the food he made to bring to his office lies abandoned, the detective unable to eat from the nausea. on weeks like these he makes him soup and feeds him small bites of toast as they play cluedo and deception and scrabble - kazuha's kitsune and sakura and riviera blemished by heizou's trespassing and bludgeon and homicide. he reads him thrillers and murder mysteries as he rubs away the pains in his head and his stomach, more often than not solved before he can finish them. by the end of the week, heizou's aches are gone - his mind has been taken off work with games and books, his stomach kept full with warm and nutritious food. his face is brighter and he's calm, peaceful. kazuha takes it in with a soft sigh - it will only be so long until another particularly invigorating case consumes him, and kazuha has to nurse his caffiene jitters and stomachaches away again.

wanderer is acting weird. well, he's always a little weird, but he keeps standing in awkward positions and shifting uncomfortably, keeps suddenly turning to hide his face as he covers it, is snapping at heizou even more so than usual - even at venti's joking attempts to cheer him up. noticing him ghosting a hand over his stomach, venti wraps his arms around him, resting his hands over the gentle curve of his stomach. he's trembling lightly. he's a bit too warm. but he seems to relax - and venti relaxes too, until he asks "what's going on in here that has you so upset, then?" with a teasing rub and - he didn't mean to try to help. he knows better than that - but it's too late, and wanderer pulls away with a scowl, claiming he doesn't need his help, that he's being clingy and annoying. the bard swallows the hurt, plastering on an understanding smile and giving him the space he needs. the tight pain in wanderer's stomach is now accompanied with the dull ache of regret in his chest, but pride stops him from taking back his words.

it's when venti visits the next evening to apologise that he notices something is off. wanderer's hair is pushed back off his face, for one, which seems damp and even paler than usual - he's pressing a hand to his stomach. his perpetual scowl is replaced with hazy, unfocused eyes, his usual defensive posture weakened with shakey exhaustion. with a soft sigh of understanding, venti closes the door behind him and holds the back of his hand to wanderer's feverish forehead.

even i need help at times, he chides. and i'm actually an archon.

once they're home alone, away from the prying eyes of others, wanderer allows himself to be vulnerable - he quietly asks for belly rubs and headrubs. he allows venti to wipe his tears and rub his back when he's hunched over the toilet, stomach emptying itself of its contents. he lets him hold him in his lap and hum soft melodies, pressing a washcloth to his forehead or the back of his neck. with the cool breeze the anemo archon brings with him and the soothing warmth his delicate hands provide his stomach with, wanderer finally finds himself drifting off to sleep.

kazuha doesn't get sick often. his immune system is strong from so many years of travelling in the great, but unforgiving, outdoors - and he likes to think he's a healthy guy and nourishes his body as it needs. healthier than heizou, at the very least. and venti. and - well. most of his stubborn boyfriends.

he's unable to keep up with xiao while sparring one day. a chill has set in his bones, and the wind seems to be working against him, no longer at the beck and call of his fingertips. it's harsher than usual. colder than usual. he's running out of breath, his grip slips on his sword, he can't find his footing. something invisible pushes down on his chest and he holds back an itch in his throat. xiao has always had great talent when he fights. he is one of the few more skilled and effortless than kazuha on the battlefield, but he doesn't remember him being this good. he doesn't even notice when xiao almost injures him when he drops his sword, doubling over to let deep chested coughs rack his body, unable to hold them back anymore. tears sting his eyes and his throat burns and his nose is running and he can't stop coughing. standing up brings stars into his vision and a spinning meadow around him - spinning until it's suddenly rising above him and - oh. xiao has caught him halfway to the ground. a concerned frown pinches his face as he looks down on him struggling to his feet.

kazuha knows, unlike his boyfriends, that he can't care for his body the way it needs him to when he falls ill. not that he needs to ask for help. xiao doesn't understand much about the mortal body, but he knows kazuha isn't well, and doesn't want to leave him on his own in such a vulnerable state that he can't even hold his own while sparring. it hurts. kazuha's throat hurts, and his chest feels so unbearably heavy, and breathing is much harder than it should be. his stomach hurts from the relentless coughing. even with his voice taking a leave of absence, xiao knows just what to do. he brings him honeyed tea with ginger and peppermint, wraps him up in warm scarves and rubs his back during fits. he soothes the aching muscles in his stomach with heat packs and salted herbal baths, gently running his hands over the sensitive skin as he drifts off in a freshly made bed afterwards.

xiao doesn't mind looking after him. he likes spending time holed up with him, cozy and warm in bed and away from the bad weather and violence outside. he didn't understand much, at first, about looking after mortal illnesses, but he's learned a lot over time. it's when all four of his partners have caught the same cold from each other and all need looking after - particularly with wanderer's stubborness and heizou's drama - that he suddenly wishes he could go back to defending the lands of liyue and run away from the endless stream of requests for teas and medicines and cuddles, surrounded by pathetically runny noses and hoarse voices.

"i said i'm fine."

but despite his grumblings, he doesn't really mind - it's rare enough he gets to spend time with all of them. and they take care of him when the situation calls for it - strange mortal food cramping tightly, bad karma causing him to retch from feverish nausea, injuries no matter how big or small. venti holds him quietly, plays with his hair and holds it back for him, rubs his back when his stomach is too sensitive and lets him tear up and cry shamefully into his shoulder. heizou's incoherent ramblings and high energy distract him enough to be able to ignore the pains, and while his awkward imitations of kazuha's caretaking don't do much, the thought behind it is sweet - kazuha gently coaxes him to take medicines and reapplies ice or heat as needed, letting him drift in and out of consciousness on his shoulder as he plays quiet songs on his zither or scritches out lines of poetry. xiao asks what the foreign words mean and kazuha's voice is soft and saccharine when he reads out his verses, and suddenly he's not so sick or painful anymore as he's pulled into another land crafted upon paper. and wanderer - he's the only one to match his stubborness, his obstinate denial.

"i didn't ask. just made too much damn tea."

his navy blue eyes are a little too intense as he watches him take a sip of the honey sweet drink - weird, for wanderer's bitter tastes - and the frown between his eyebrows lessens slightly as he takes a drink. if he continues making too much tea, and silently shoves heatpacks in his direction and traces light patterns on his stomach after xiao spends too much time not at all getting sick in the bathroom; he doesn't say anything. he only mutters a small thank you when he wakes up in his bed after falling asleep on the bathroom floor. sometimes, things feel better like this. feel safer. he feels like he's understood. words are terribly overrated altogether - and now there is finally somebody else who can speak his silent language and take care of him in a way that comforts him.

#writing on the train rn so apologies for how bad this is </3 #oh i love 5nemo so very dearly #gen #sickfic #tw depression #implied ? i wouldnt consider it that but Just In Case #projecting onto nd hexzou SORRY #emeto

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