#she���s a grown woman now ���� they throw up too fast
a piece of cake
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.
word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)
warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
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You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.
But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.
Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.
“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.
James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.
You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.
Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.
He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.
“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.
Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.
“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.
“I said no, you fucking punk”.
“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”
“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.
Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.
You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.
Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.
Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.
“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.
“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.
He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.
And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.
“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”
You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.
“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.
“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.
That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.
“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.
The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”
You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.
Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.
“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.
“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.
“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.
You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.
You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.
“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.
Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.
“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.
You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.
“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.
He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.
“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.
You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.
“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.
“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.
“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”
You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.
The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.
Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.
“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.
“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.
“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.
“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.
“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.
Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.
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Prompt Challenge List
#6 Madara Uchiha
#48 “You’re safe – I’ve got you.” / #186 “Kiss me.”
ya’aburnee - (n.) literally: “you bury me”; the hope that you will die before your love because you cannot live without them
word count - 1,689
Tobirama Senju had thought he’d murdered the Uchiha patriarch’s lover.
A katana blade through the gut had severed the woman’s spinal cord and she’d gasped around his blade, partially hunched over. Her tachi blade clattered out of her hand, out of reach as it rolled across the unhewn granite surface of the mountaintop. The three-tomoe Sharingan in her eyes were almost the same color as the blood dripping off the edge of her chin when she looked up at him.
Tobirama wasn’t afraid to look her in the eyes; he’d managed to avoid Izuna for most of the battle, conserving his chakra before purposefully breaking through the fighting that surrounded the woman. She was one of the only Uchihas whose healing chakra was refined enough to be considered a threat to any efforts the Senju Clan made against killing the more dangerous Uchiha shinobi – she had to die before Tobirama could take a fight with Izuna seriously.
He could sense what chakra was left in her amassing around her spinal column, no doubt attempting to staunch the bleeding and reconnect nerves. He’d waited until she was low on chakra and her moves had become sloppier – attacking her had been easier than he’d thought; she must’ve expected him to be locked in a stalemate with Izuna and didn’t pace her fighting.
Impulsively, he twisted the katana blade and used his weight to push her back, listening to a short, strangled scream escape her as he broke the blade against the mountain beneath her. She was panting, on her back with her knees bent as she tried in vain to reach for her tachi blade. Ever the Uchiha, Tobirama nearly shook his head. Though, there was honor in the tenacity to keep fighting until death, he supposed.
He twisted the blade again, watching the woman’s body shudder as it went into shock. He would make sure she died – even at the expense of leaving himself open to an attack, risking her survival for his petulance wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.
Her comrades were coming though. The Uchihas around him had noticed him among them and were beginning to ignore their Senju enemies.
“(Y/N) has been injured!” someone yelled across the battlefield. “Get a medic! Get Madara-sama!”
She wasn’t going to die fast enough before Madara found Tobirama with his blade through his lover’s spine.
The woman choked around a word, and later, when he was washing her blood off of his hands, he’d realize she’d muttered “Kami” under her breath. Whether it had been a forewarning of Madara’s wrath or her own curse, he wasn’t sure.
Tobirama knelt onto her chest, pulling a tanto blade from his belt. He’d finish her now, before Madara –
Her eyes were wide, Sharingan absent. She knew what he was going to do –
A clean strike through her larynx –
Hot, raging chakra slammed into Tobirama’s unguarded side, throwing him yards away from the woman’s body. The hilt of his katana had snapped and landed next to his head, his tanto a few feet beyond and broken in a saw-toothed pattern across the blade.
The rage of Madara Uchiha bore down on him from across the salience, Uchiha and Senju alike staring up at the saxe-blue Susanoo assembled around the wheezing form of (Y/N) Uchiha. Madara himself was glowering down at Tobirama from the cliff ledge he’d been backed up on by Hashirama. The power of the Mangekyo Sharingan pierced the space between the two of them, Madara completely vulnerable to Hashirama in that moment, but Tobirama’s brother doing nothing but staring wide-eyed down at the Susanoo covering the dying woman.
Tobirama didn’t hear Madara, but he watched the man’s mouth form (Y/N)’s name.
During the spring, the Uchiha Compound smelled of sakura and almond blossoms. It was your favorite time of the year, when the night skies were clear enough to see every one of the vernal constellations. Madara spent many nights with you in the meadow surrounding the encampment – it was where you’d found each other between the battles and political assemblies and the love that you’d grown to have for him had began.
When Tobirama had snuck through your guard and buried his katana to its hilt through your midsection, you’d briefly thought of when Madara had set a sakura flower in your hands, folding your fingers over it and promising you every spring of his life to spend together. It had only been a year ago, and now you were staring into Tobirama Senju’s scarlet eyes and realizing he was going to kill you.
You’d clung to consciousness long enough to feel the Susanoo close around you, and then you were in his arms, hardly hearing his voice as his composure slipped and he screamed at his shinobi to retreat and find a medic. The fear in his eyes had been the last thing you’d been aware of before slipping completely into shock, until the birdsong of the thrushes had woken you.
His exhaustion clung to him, as much as the dirt did to his underclothes.
He was leaning against the wall across from your bedside, one arm crossed over his chest and used as an anchor for the arm he’d fisted under his chin to hold his head up. His armor was in a heap on the floor only a few feet away, and the longer strands of his hair swayed with the breeze that carried through the open window above your head.
Your fingers fidgeted and his eyes opened, hearing the nearly silent brush of your fingernails across the thin blanket that was tucked around your body. For a moment, you only stared at each other, and then he was moving across the room and dropping to his knees at your bedside, head bent against the tatami mattress.
“Your heart –”
You could sense the unfamiliar chakra in your body. It had been forced in great amounts around the severed pieces of your spinal cord, infused into your body with extreme precision. The only other member of your clan capable of that kind of procedure was Sayuri, but she had been out of the compound when you’d left for battle.
“Sayuri said that if you hadn’t attempted to begin the healing process on your spine before you’d become unconscious, she wouldn’t have been able to restart your heart,” Madara spoke quietly. “Your body went into hypovolemic shock – too many organs were shutting down.”
You already knew this – you were a medic, you knew your own body and your chakra, and you’d known you were spiraling towards death’s threshold from the moment Tobirama had cut through your body. Weakly, you reached for Madara’s hand. He watched your fingers close around his, a tremor in your arm as you moved.
Madara grit his teeth and scowled. “Tobirama will die for this,” he swore.
You shut your eyes and tried to swallow around the dried blood in your mouth. “Madara,” you voice was hardly louder than a rasp, but he fell silent instantaneously, ire receding entirely as he watched you with rapt attention.
When you struggled to swallow again, he tressed his fingers lightly through your hair, over your cheek and held your hand in both of his. This was the man that you loved infinitely, through the seasons as they changed and as he grew more hardened by the constant warring with the man that he’d once called a friend. This was the man you’d glimpsed at first through half-hidden smiles and philosophical conversations, who you’d promised a life to after years of tracing the lines that scars left on both of your bodies.
You’d sensed his desperation and fury through the chakra making up the Susanoo that had saved your life from Tobirama plunging that tanto blade through your throat. Madara had been terrified, and you had been almost too far gone to remember to be afraid.
“The sakura flowers are blooming,” you mumbled quietly into the silence between the two of you.
His head rose slightly and he slowly looked between you and the open window. He studied the blossoms for a long moment before he met your eyes again. His Sharingan was concealed, but his emotions weren’t, and he clenched his jaw as a glaze covered his eyes.
“If you had died,” he spoke softly, but meaningfully, “all things good and beautiful in this world would have died with you.”
Your heart raced and a pain ached from your spine, but you squeezed his hands as tightly as your strength would allow.
“I haven’t died,” you replied. The thrushes sang and the wind shifted the blossoms in the trees, and Madara stared at you.
“You nearly did,” he finally responded, a hardness taking his voice. His Sharingan bled across his dark irises. “I will kill Tobirama the next time we meet the Senjus in battle.”
This was a man who loved the stars and the spring, that you knew, but this was also a man who knew what blood felt like as it spilled from his enemies’ bodies and over his hands. This was a man who you knew would carry out a personal war in the name of revenge if Tobirama had succeeded in killing you. This was a man that was as terrifying to his adversaries as he was loving to you.
“Stay here,” you said instead of attempting to quell a fire in him that nothing but death could hope to put out. “Stay with me.” His shoulders slackened and his eyes fell to your hands ensnared within his, holding tightly onto his knuckles.
Gradually, he relented, setting aside his anger and lowering himself onto the tatami mat beside you. Stroking your bare shoulder with one hand, he held your other hand over his chest, and you listened to his heart beat a steady rhythm until you were drifting back into unconsciousness.
You felt his jaw shift against your head and lips press against your hairline as the scent of sakura and almond blossoms drifted through the room, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
“If you had died, all things good and beautiful would have died with you.” INSPIRED BY:
“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.”
― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles
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Unhinged - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader
A misunderstanding causes the reader a whole lot of distress. Blame it on the stress of planning your wedding to the Golden dreamboat or his shifty behavioral cues. Needless to say this occurs many years after the events of Vento Aureo. Some mild angst, some fluff, some mild nsfw- a mixed bag that nobody asked for really, unashamedly self indulgent 🥺💭💖
You always judged those unhinged girls. You know the type, the ones who would steal their partners phones and “run into them” at very convenient times. Pathetic, you’d always think, so you could not understand how, in heaven’s name, you found yourself sitting in your car across from your favorite Café, spying on your fiancé. You were thankful for the oversized sunglasses that hid most of your face as you stole a glance at yourself in the rear view mirror. You can’t imagine what your eyes might look like at this point.
It all started a week ago… Giorno was an extremely busy man, you of all people knew that best. He always made time for you though, however, the closer it got to your wedding, the less you saw of him. You were busy yourself, so you didn’t really have much time to yearn for his company, but the coldness of your bed was always a reminder that someone very important was supposed to be occupying that space. It wasn’t just the scarcity of your lover that had set off alarms in your mind, it was more his odd behavior. He was so secretive these days, keeping conversations shorter than they needed to be, hiding his devices from you when he received texts, discarding every scrap of paper from his pockets before properly greeting you when he did manage to come home in the daylight. Each time you questioned his behavior he just sweetly smiled and replied that everything was alright.
And so continued this mistimed waltz on eggshells until that fateful morning. A swirl of emotions bubbled up in your chest suffocating you when you found some kind of broken jewel clinging to Giorno’s suit. You couldn’t really make out what it might have been part of, or what lewd activities managed to dislodge it from its original owner and onto him, but for the first time in the years you have been together, you were suddenly unsure of whether you could spend your life with this man. Did you even know him at all?
The walls of the villa never felt so restrictive before, you needed to get out, clear your mind, perhaps even get another perspective. You could just be overreacting as you know you are inclined to do sometimes. Giorno was still in the shower, you contemplated letting him know that you were going out, but decided to just go. He can stew a little, get a taste of your personal hell for just a few hours. Hurriedly throwing on the outfit you laid out, you grab your keys and headed off to your favorite coffee shop, calling Trish while you were on your way there, asking her to meet you. The two of you had grown closer over the years and right now you needed a friend who would give you sound advice without sugarcoating the facts.
Giorno had sauntered out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his upper body still glistening from the shower with his wet hair cascading down his back. He expected to find you there just doing your hair or putting on your mascara, he loved watching you get ready. It gave him a chance to fully admire you, making him feel proud, bordering on arrogant, that you were his and only he got to see all the different sides there were to your beauty. He knew he was being distant with you but he had his reasons for being so preoccupied. Walking towards the nightstand to check his phone, he sees the jacket he wore yesterday on the floor with the little jewel still hooked onto the fibers of the expensive fabric. Throwing his head back in resignation, he called Trish, already aware of what you might be thinking, and knowing that she’s usually the first person you’d turn to when you needed to chat.
“Hi Trish, do you have a second to chat? I’ll make it quick,” he starts off, putting the call on speaker so he can get dressed for the day.
“Giorno, what did you do? She already called me in a state, I’m on my way to meet her for coffee as we speak,”
“Okay look, I can explain everything, just know that I’m not being unfaithful,”
“How did this escalate so fast? Why are you giving her reasons to jump to these conclusions so close to the wedding? You better not be messing around,”
Giorno could hear the suspicion that edged Trish’s voice, so he explained everything and begged her to calm you down while he tended to a few issues.
You felt your shoulders relax as the tension melted away after pouring your heart out to Trish. After speaking to her it dawned on you that coming out and asking Giorno would be better than letting this outlandish scenario fester in your mind. After giving you the pep talk you needed Trish left to get on with her day while you stayed to organize yours. Sipping the last bit of your mocha Frappe, you darted towards your car when suddenly your attention was caught by a flash of gold and a flourish of a deep cerulean blue coat entering the Café. Certain that your eyes were playing tricks on you, you blinked a few times, but it was as clear as the blue sky above you, Giorno had arrived there with another woman. Hastily getting into your car, you sank into the soft leather seat and fished out your oversized Chanel sunglasses to conceal your presence as much as possible in the off chance he looked in your direction, although chances of that seemed very slim given how engrossed he was in their conversation.
Oh you hated every painful second of this, all the tension and anger that you’d let go of, found you all at once, marring your otherwise beautiful features.
You watched as he pulled out her chair and sat across from her, smiling that charming smile that could disarm a terrorist. He barely looked away from her, you wished he would see you, wondering what kind of explanation he’d conjure up. You contemplated going back inside to confront them, but you didn’t trust your emotions, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You wouldn’t dare give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry… and so you watched, preparing yourself for what you may or may not see, however your resolve shattered when you saw Giorno pull out a little black box and slide it across the table towards her. She beamed as she opened it examining the contents without taking it out… was it a replacement for that trinket that you found? He always did have impeccable taste, you had always thought it was reserved for you though. Unable to watch any longer, you started the car and sped off, not wanting to go home, but having no motivation to go anywhere else, you just drove aimlessly for a while.
“Oh Mr Giovanna, these are perfect, they’re exactly what I needed to complete her bracelet, I’m sure your fiancé is going to love it!” exclaimed the lady sitting opposite your lover.
“Please, call me Giorno. I would hope so, it’s more sentimental than anything else, I’m just astounded that you were able to recreate the intricacies of the original design. Your talent knows no bounds,”
“Ah, like any artist, I’m always intrigued by beauty and mystery. How were you able to get a this many dainty gems at this short notice?”
“I have my network, I’m just glad you can complete it now, I can’t wait to give it to her,”
“Well you won’t have to wait too long, I should have this ready by the close of business today,”
“I won’t keep you any longer then, thanks once again for handling my request,” said Giorno with an extended hand as he stood up to leave.
It was a mission to try and recreate your mother’s heirloom bracelet from a faded, wrinkled picture, but he was determined to give you something special, that would make you feel closer to her as well. Your lineage was a mystery, your father unknown, so when your mother arrived in Italy it was one of the few valuables she had had on her person. She did everything she could to provide for you when you were little, but she unfortunately had succumbed to her circumstances leaving you to fend for yourself in an unforgiving world. His heart clenched when you recounted stories of your childhood, which somewhat mirrored his own. You never complained though, he could see your heart ached when you thought of her, and all the things she would have helped you with especially now. Still, the way you concealed your heartache with a trained smile, would always make him wonder how such strength could be contained by something so angelically beautiful. Drawn out of his reverie of you, Giorno had arrived at his destination and continued with his day until it was time to collect your present and head home.
By the time you had finally found yourself at your driveway, you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in a cave and hibernate until everything was over. How arrogant of you to assume this would last when every good thing in your life came to an end. Dragging your wary body up the stairs, you buried yourself under the soft comforter, shutting your eyes with the hope that it would all have been a dream by the time you resurface.
When Giorno finally made it home, the first thing he did was seek you out. Usually you’d be quietly nestled on the couch reading or working on something, or you’d be tinkering in the kitchen making some sort of delicious treat, both as a means to relax and indulge your shared sweet tooth. But you couldn’t be found in either of those places. He found you huddled on the bed you both shared, looking so fragile as you slept in a fetal position. He didn’t want to disturb you but he couldn’t help gently brushing your hair off your face, which unfortunately resulted in you waking up.
“Gio, I didn’t expect you back this early…” you murmured, still waiting for your eyes to adjust to the light. The events of today came flooding back to you and you resolved to just come straight out and confront him. Noticing the change in your demeanor, Giorno sat next to you on the edge of the bed, while he loosened his top shirt button and took off his tie.
“Giogio, I don’t know how to put this delicately, so I’m just going to say it… you’ve been acting so different lately, always so secretive, hiding things from me, and this morning I found remnants of some jewelry that didn’t belong to me on your clothes… and probably the worst thing of all is that I saw you with someone while I was out this morning. You both looked very comfortable with each other, and… I… who is she?” you rambled on, your voice barely louder than a whisper. This wasn’t playing out how you had imagined it, with most of the fight being forced out of your body by melancholy. Seeing the evidence of your anguish in your eyes, Giorno reached out to cup your cheek, you mentally chastised yourself for automatically melting into his touch.
“Ah my sweet principessa, I love you, only you, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you or break that trust. The lady you saw me with is a jewelry designer, I commissioned something very special for you, so we just met so I could give her the materials to complete it… I wanted to give it to later at dinner tonight, but you’re in no condition to go out, so let’s stay in, okay?” he explained as he pulled out a box from his breast pocket and settled down next to you. “Go on, open it,”
You gingerly take the box, opening it slowly, curiosity and embarrassment fighting against each other in your mind.
“Gio, how did you manage to find it after all these years? I thought it would have been melted down and broken up completely.”
You simply couldn’t believe your eyes, it broke your heart when you sold off the bracelet to pay off her debts after she passed, it killed your spirit entirely when you were told it wasn’t enough to cover what she’d owed. That’s how you found yourself in Passione, working as one of Bucciarati’s underlings.
“Well, unfortunately I couldn’t find the exact piece bella, trust me, I tried. You’re probably correct in saying that it was taken apart, so I had this recreated to its exact specifications. I hope you like it,”
Giorno’s voice was so tender, as was his expression. Tears clouded your vision, it was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for you, you were at a complete loss for words.
“Gio… Tesoro, I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like nearly enough. And I’m so sorry I ever doubted you, I feel like such an idiot, that’s probably because I am one. How can I make it up to you? I totally understand if you’re too upset to talk to…” your rambling was cut off by Giorno’s lips gently pressing against your own. His hand softly grasped the back of your head, slightly tilting your face upwards to deepen the kiss.
“That was thanks enough amore mio, I love you,”
“Ti amo con tutto il mio cuore,” you reply, while trying to hide your embarrassment by nestling your face in the crook of Giorno’s neck.
“Molto bene, your Italian is improving bella, I’m proud of you.”
Giorno snaps the sparkly trinket onto your wrist and admires how your eyes light up when you look at it. The glimmer of his eyes in the soft lighting of the room awakened a yearning within you. Giving in to the feeling, you kiss Giorno’s collarbone, earning a hum of approval from him, as you softly trailed kisses up his neck and onto his jaw, finally settling on his lips. You felt him smiling into the kiss, he ran his tongue across your bottom lip asking for entry, to which you willingly obliged as your hands toyed with his braid, undoing it completely. His hands ran up and down your body, worshipping the dips and curves he adored so much. Breaking away from the kiss for a moment, he looked down at you, eyes darkened with lust, hands hovering over the buttons of your shirt asking for permission to disrobe you, which you granted with a small nod. He was so gorgeous, so strong and he exuded such charisma that you found yourself submitting to his every request, spoken or otherwise, lapping up every bit of praise he afforded you as you took him in his entirety. Once, twice, you had lost count of how many times you both peaked.
At some point in the night you had woken up ensconced in the warm embrace of your sleeping lover, finally being able to form a coherent thought, you promised yourself to never baselessly doubt his love for you ever again. With that you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to fall asleep again, feeling completely safe, content and loved.
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FIFTY FIRST DATES, AND THE FIRST REAL ONE
──⊱ for my one and only, wee to my woo, love of my life — @doughnuts-5ever
pairing — kuroo tetsurou x reader
genre — angst but it ends very fluffily i swear on my doggie socks
beta(s) — @sugasugawarau @taiyaki
kisses — hello i am,,, not back,, but here's a little thing that i did for my cow and it might as well be a valentine's day fic bc why not xoxo see y'all in a few days (psps sorry to everyone to has messaged me on discord or here or anything, i haven't been on tumblr or discord in a bit i'll be back sOON)
You sat at the dinner table, staring down at the meal laid out before you. It was by far the best thing you had ever tasted, and yet, it was bland. So, so bland and bitter, that you hated it. Nevermind that it was your favorite dish made by your mother the other day, nevermind that you always loved it better as leftovers. It tasted bland and bitter, and you couldn’t help but wish what he was eating tonight was too.
It was pathetically selfish of you - you knew. But how could you not feel that way when the man you loved was out on a date with some stranger he met on the internet? He had left the house in a burgundy button up that looked like it was made for him, paired with black slacks that made him look like it should be illegal for him to be out in the streets without a warning sign.
It was his first attempt at online dating after having miserably failed at picking up girls from school. And now here he was, out with some chick with a name you could barely pronounce, and the stereotypical description of her bubbly personality that loved nature and volunteered at the animal shelter. Oh, and lets not forget, she’s a gemini!
You rolled your eyes, stabbing your fork into the now cold dish. Stupid boy, with his stupid date, with that stupid red shirt, and with his stupid personality.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. That’s what you were for falling in love with a boy who never saw you for more than another pity project, the pathetic little thing that needed friends but never had any guts to make one until he came along.
You picked up the container of food and stalked over to the bin, dropping its contents into it. You weren’t going to eat it anyways, especially not after how you had massacred it.
After you left the dirty container in the sink, you flopped onto the couch, sighing heavily as you sank into the worn sofa. It smelled like Kuroo’s body soap, though from the amount of time he’s spent lying on this couch, it was to be expected.
You leaned forward, hand outstretched for the remote. Just a little further, a little more-
The door slammed open and you lurched forward, landing on the ground with a thud.
“It was horrible. She came into the restaurant and she looked amazing, but then we started talking and oh god, I don’t think I can be with someone who thinks that only the rich should be allowed to do whatever they want just because they’re rich.”
“Well hello to you too, Kuroo,” you grumbled from your spot on the floor, flipping yourself over to face the ceiling.
He jumped over the sofa arm, landing perfectly on it like he always does.
“I mean, how can I accept that? That’s just morally wrong and if her basic morals are wrong, what about other more important things? I walked out right after that, that doesn’t make me an asshole right?” His head popped out, brown eyes staring down at you. The cologne he wore tonight drifted down, washing over you and clouding your mind with its deliciously warm and thick and-
“I mean I did pay for the meal before I left,” he mutters, dropping his head onto the cushion, voice muffled slightly by it. “So it counters the fact that I left, right?”
The sigh that begs to pull its way out is caught by you, stuffed into the depths of your stomach in exchange for a soft pat on his head and words you know he wants to hear.
“No, you’re not an asshole. Maybe that was an asshole move, but that doesn’t make you one. Besides, her lack of a moral compass cancels out any asshole you might’ve been.” You combed through his hair, drawing it out of the careful style he had forced his bed head into. “This hairstyle though? It makes you look like an extreme asshole.”
Kuroo scoffed indignantly and his head popped back over the edge once more, brown eyes glaring at you. “I worked hard on this!”
“Doesn’t make you look any less of an ass.”
“The date was incredible.” He sighed dreamily, leaning against the counter with his chin in his hand. The temptation to throw your fork at him increased, and it took every sane cell in your body to set it down on the table instead, albeit rougher than you intended.
If Kuroo noticed your intensity, he didn’t mention it, instead continuing on to sigh and gush about the wonderful date he had last night with this amazing woman at this delicious place.
For someone who was incredibly perceptive, he could be incredibly dense as well. You wonder at his obliviousness to your feelings, to the poorly concealed hurt that peeked through in every little move of your body.
All you wanted to do was scream at him, to wake up, open his eyes, and see you.
You, who had been there since the beginning, who had watched him grow from the shy, introverted kid to this cunning, charismatic man who excelled and went beyond what had been expected of him. You, who had seen him at his worst, and still stayed, patching him up and helping him to his feet. You, who knew who he was to the core, every detail, every fact about him.
But it seemed he didn’t know you as well.
“That’s great,” you interrupt him. He glanced at you, surprised by your abruptness. “I gotta go get some work done, I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.”
“Wait, did I do something wrong?” He called after your retreating back. “Hey, I’m sorry if I pissed you off.”
“No, it’s nothing!” You slammed the door shut, slumping against it. God, you were a fool to have fallen for an idiot. Dashing away the burning tears that slip down your cheeks, you gathered just enough strength to crawl beneath onto your bed and beneath the covers.
The cat plushie he got you a long time ago sits at the bottom of your bed, staring at you. You glared at it, before giving in and grabbing it, tucking it into your chest. Stupid Kuroo with his stupid face and this stupid cat. You hate him so much.
(No, you don’t, you really don’t. And it hurts so much more to know that.)
You’re back here once more, glaring daggers at the clock. The slow ticking of the hands pisses you off, every second gone is a second more Kuroo’s out there, with another girl, on another date. With the number of bad first dates he’s gone one, you’d think he’d give up. But no, this man was persistent, and he wanted to “experience life!”
Well, he was going to experience death soon if he didn’t come back home soon. Your vigil continued, all the way till three am where you gave up and went to bed, your exhaustion outweighing your annoyance and worry. He’s a grown man, there was no need to worry about him.
Honestly, you didn’t know how you got here. To this suffocating silence that rested upon your chest, pinning you down as you listened to the sounds of cars rushing past and the occasional laughter that seeped through the walls. To where you spent your nights alone in your shared apartment, waiting for Kuroo to come home from yet another date. Like some married person waiting on their cheating husband, you smiled bitterly at the ceiling.
Only you weren’t married to him, and you certainly weren't his anything.
If only you were less of a fool, you might’ve moved on long ago. Maybe you might have even found someone who might be just as in love with you as you were with them. You might have already been in a happy relationship, going out on dates, spending your nights with them, being loved. But you were a fool, a fool in love with another fool.
So you continued to lie there, the infinite weight of your one-sided love pressing you into the ground, holding you prisoner to Kuroo Tetsurou.
“Hey, do you wanna go get dinner?” Kuroo called out. “There’s nothing left in the fridge, maybe we could get groceries after.”
You ignored him, focusing on the dimly lit screen of your phone. There hadn't been a proper conversation with him in a while, and you were content to leave it that way if only it meant you didn’t have to hear about his dates with those seemingly perfect women and their seemingly perfect food.
Kuroo called out once more, and you burrowed beneath the blanket, curling up into a ball.
No, you did not want to get dinner with the man you’re so desperately in love with it almost hurts to even breathe in his presence.
The door creaked open, and you could see his shadow stretch out across your bedroom floor, casting its shape upon your walls. It took everything in you to tear your eyes away from it and back onto your phone, though it lingered in your peripheral, taunting you with the way it twisted and leaned closer to you, the scent of his cologne growing stronger by the second, until it almost felt like he wa-
“Why are you ignoring me?” Kuroo whined into your ear as he draped his body over yours, strands of inky hair tickling your cheek.
“Ku-roo-” you gasped out, fighting to twist your body out from under him. “Can’t- bre-breathe.”
He groaned into your ear, dropping even more pressure down. “Don’t care, you ignored me.” He sulked as he burrowed his head into the crook of your neck.
A blind kick to his legs has him flopping off you, spread eagle on your too tiny bed.
“You’re too heavy to be pulling this crap,” you snapped at him.
“And you’re too old to be ignoring me when something’s wrong,” he shot back just as fast, and you were left stunned. To be fair, you should have expected it, Kuroo being one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met.
(Not perceptive enough to see the deep feelings you harbored for him though.)
“So what’s wrong?”
‘Everything,’ you wanted to scream. ‘You, those stupid dates, my feelings, every god damned thing on earth.’
Instead, what came out was: “I’m just stressed. Work, you know?” You shot him an unconvincing smile.
Kuroo frowned, his lips pinching as he stared at you. He knew better than to push you though, and settled with a curt nod, a forced smile slipping onto his face. “So…. dinner?”
You sighed in exasperation, and let him yank you up and out of bed. The way his stiff smile melted into an easy, fond one was enough to wash away your hesitance, and temporarily dam up the river of doubts that threatened to drown you.
Just for tonight, you’ll enjoy his presence, before he gets caught up in another’s embrace.
(You let yourself get swept up in him again, chasing after the ebb of his warmth when his encompassing presence surges away from you. But you find that you don’t really mind drowning in him, not when the peak of the surf reveals such beautiful sights in the form of lazy smirks and sly hazel eyes.)
It’s another failed date that sends him home in a fitted suit, one that you had turned your nose up at. Kuroo doesn’t understand what’s going wrong, why he never felt like the date was right. The people he had gone on dates with were nothing short of amazing, with the exception of a few. But they just lacked… something. And so he always leaves them with a grateful goodbye and an apologetic smile, returning home to the apartment he shared with you alone.
He’s spent nights and days trying to convince himself that they were an ideal candidate to date, listing out their positive notes to you, and somehow he can’t seem to find the thing that made him just click with them. It’s bordering on frustrating, really, and Kuroo is more than ready to relieve some of the building tension in his body by hanging out with you.
His entrance home is muffled by the sounds of music blasting through the apartment, and it’s a wonder the neighbours haven’t complained yet. He’s about to call out for you as he drops keys on the coffee table, one hand loosening his tie when he catches sight of you dancing in the kitchen.
And everything clicks in place.
It’s a stunning clarity that leaves him reeling, and he wonders how he could have missed it in the first place. It’s a simple truth: Kuroo Tetsurou was completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with you. And it only took him fifty bad first dates to realize that the only person he wanted to go on a date with was you.
Objectively speaking, you look like a complete mess, but to him, the sight of you twirling around in sock clad feet in an oversized shirt with a lame chemistry joke printed across it was infinitely better than any of the people he had gone on dates with. You’re absolutely perfect to him, yelling out lyrics to a song that’s blasting at full volume from the living room.
There isn’t a moment’s hesitation as he surges forward, a force tugging him to you. And like just like two opposing magnets, you spin around just in time for him to collide into you, his head hazy as his mouth crashes down upon yours.
You taste of leftover pizza and something sweet, and he thinks it might be the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. The shocked gasp that escapes you is swallowed by Kuroo as he deepens the kiss, arms winding around you to pull you impossibly closer. And he isn’t sure why he’s so surprised when you reciprocate the kiss, melting into him as your hands grip the lapels of his blazer.
It feels like an eternity spent wrapped around each other, the beat of the music matching the rhythm of your hearts, and the warmth of each other.
Kuroo pulls away first, only because rationality comes sinking back into his muddled brain, and there’s a brief moment of panic when he stares down at your flushed face, lips swollen from his sudden attack. But the absolute relief and love in your eyes has him calming down, and the soft peck you deliver next settles those doubts.
“It’s been you all this while,” his voice cracks, and he winces. “You’re my best friend, and I’m in love with you.”
The smile that breaks out across your face is everything he’s been looking for, and he feels like a fool for being so blind. You’re everything he’s wanted, and everything he’s needed.
“I’m in love with you.” He repeats louder, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of him. “I’m in love with you!”
“I’m in love with you too!” You yell back, and in his excitement, he can’t help but twirl you around, and you burst into giggles. There isn’t a better sound in the world than this, he thinks.
“Be mine.” He catches you by the shoulders, face alight with adoration.
“I’ve been yours for a long time now.” Your answer fills him with a rush of delight and guilt, and he’s ready to spill apologies and promises to make it up to you when you yank on his tie hard, pulling him into another kiss. Every unspoken word, every drop of emotion that has ever begged to be exchanged between you two is said with a simple kiss.
Kuroo thanks the heavens for you, for blessing his life with someone who is more than he deserves. The weight of you in his arms is a comforting pressure, and there he has his last first date, at the beginning of a new chapter in the story of him and you, eating leftovers and dancing to songs of your childhood.
He’s in love with you, and you are with him too.
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honestly? of the prompts i’ve done lately, i had the most fun writing this one
The young girl carefully drew the last section of the outermost circle with chalk, then once again checked the book next to her to confirm she was right.
This was difficult, because it was in a language she couldn’t read, so she had to go off what she’d been able to learn from her master and what the images in the book told her. But from what she could tell, everything was right. All the symbols were where they should be, and the herbs and stones scattered at the corners of the pengrams within the interlocking circles were all correct, down to the gram.
She placed a single lit candle at the corners of the largest pentagram, the one that dominated the centre of the summoning circle, and began to chant. It had taken her a month to learn how to pronounce some of these words, and she was worried that her master had begun to become suspicious about why she wanted to know them.
But her master was out right now, and wouldn’t be back for at least a week, so she’d taken the opportunity to sidestep her entirely. If her master wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to know, then she’d simply summon someone who would.
As she chanted, the firelight of the candles flickered and began to spread, carving the shape of the circle in the air, over and over again, until it were as if there were a pillar of flame before her. The blinding light and blazing heat almost made her bite her tongue, but she caught herself and continued slowly, steadily.
She spoke slowly, steadily, until the final syllable was uttered. The flickering flames suddenly shone a bright white, and they released a shockwave that threw her backwards and shattered the windows of the little home.
“--in the middle of something!” cried a woman’s voice in Japanese, from the centre of the circle. The girl blinked as the flames began to fade, and a humanoid shape appeared standing in the circle. She grinned, scrambling over to the edge of the circle and kneeling respectfully.
The figure looked around, her form still invisible through the smoke and the dying flames. “Where am I, anyway?”
“I have summoned you!” declared the girl, her squeaky voice sounding far too childish to her ears. “Lord of the Northwest, I have summoned you--”
“‘Lord of the Northwest’?” repeated the figure, waving her hand in the air to clear away the smoke. “Ain’t heard that one before.”
Then, to the girl’s shock, the figure leant right over the edge of the circle and looked down at her.
The figure was a tall woman in her late thirties, dressed in a knee-length black coat with dozens of pockets over a black skirt with a white apron. Messy blonde hair, some of it pulled back into a long ponytail, flowed out from beneath a large black witch’s hat and framed a sharp face with bright golden eyes.
She examined the terrified red-haired girl for a moment, glanced around the room, and then glanced down at the circle. She made an odd expression for a moment, and then laughed weakly. “Oh, man, I remember this.”
“H-h-how did you break through the circle?!” asked the girl desperately.
“Are you kidding?” replied the figure. “This thing’s riddled with mistakes. Just look… here, here, here, here, and here, there’s spelling errors,” she gestured vaguely around her, and then placed her foot on a segment of the circle right in front of the girl, “but it’s really here that’s your main issue.”
“Wh-what’s wrong with it…?” whispered the girl, eyes wide.
“Well, you got the names mixed up, didn’t ya?” said the figure, smirking. “Ya got the addresses right -- ‘here’ and ‘hell’ -- but you put King Paimon’s name in the recipient’s place, and ya put your own name in the addressee’s place!” She laughed to herself, a bit more confidently this time. “That said, can’t say it didn’t work, though.”
“H-huh…?” murmured the girl. “B-but… then…? Who are you s’posed to be, then?!”
“Ain’t that obvious?” The figure stepped fully out of the circle, and the red-haired girl scrambled backwards until she was up against the wall. “I’m you, ain’t I? Kirisame Marisa, in the flesh and everything.”
The younger Marisa began opening her mouth and closing it like a dying fish.
“That said…” The older Marisa glanced around the little building. “Man, can’t believe I used to live here. Ahh, I’m tryin’ to remember the stuff the older me said last time, but I can’t. Guess that means I can just say whatever, and it won’t matter, though?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe it just means that I’m not gonna say anything important, anyway.”
“…Why’s your hair blonde?”
The older Marisa raised an eyebrow. “‘Cause I like it blonde. So do you, ya just don’t realise it yet. But trust me, red really ain’t your colour.”
The young girl was quiet for a moment. “S-so… how are you here…?”
“Oh, you summoned me from Hell,” remarked Marisa casually. “I was down there solvin’ an incident as a favour for Eiki, and suddenly felt myself gettin’ dragged away. Next thing I know, I’m up here.” She tapped the circle with her foot again. “Oh, yeah, your date’s out, too.”
“B-by how much?”
“That’s a secret~!” The older Marisa winked. “I can’t go tellin’ ya stuff about the future like that, y’know. I could be forty, or I could be four hundred. But I ain’t sayin’.”
“So… what can you tell me…?”
“Hm… maybe, don’t go trying to summon a King of Hell, for one thing!” The older Marisa threw her arms out. “I mean, look at this! What did you even think you’d get, aside from a one-way trip straight down? Surely, you couldn’t have thought you’d actually succeed?”
“I did succeed,” replied the younger Marisa stubbornly. “I summoned you! I just need to put more security in next time, and--”
“There’s no amount of security a human can put in place to repel someone like Paimon, y’know,” said the older Marisa, and the young Marisa sagged slightly. “Trust me, demons ain’t the way to go. You just gotta learn the hard way, by readin’ a whole buncha books until you know everything they say. It’s more satisfyin’ in the end, at least.”
“That’s what Lady Mima says, too,” she muttered.
“Oh, is she around?” asked the older Marisa brightly, and then thought to herself. “No, I did this when she wasn’t around, right.” She glanced at the shattered windows. “Well, I guess I’ll at least fix that up before I go.”
“You’re leaving so soon?!” asked the younger Marisa, almost throwing herself at her older self. “Please, there’s so much you can tell me!”
“Can, but ain’t gonna!” replied the older Marisa smugly. She took a small watch out of her pocket, made some adjustments, and then wound it backwards. The younger Marisa watched in awe as the shattered glass returned from where it had fallen outside and once more solidified into unbroken windows.
“You’ve got to teach me that one, at least!!”
“No way! D’you know how long it took me to learn how to do that?!”
“I don’t! I don’t know how long it took you!”
“Well, you’re gonna find out someday!” The older Marisa began rummaging through the kitchen’s meagre pantries, and after a few moments emerged with a slightly stale bread roll. “I’m gonna take this, alright? Not my first choice of food, but I’ll take what I can get. I ain’t paying for Hell’s overpriced fast food if I can help it.”
“Just keep workin’ hard, and one day, you’ll get to be me!” The older Marisa took a wand from inside her coat and began tapping the ground. The chalk on the floor began to flow, changing its shapes as she carefully stepped over it to stand in its centre.
“But don’t you have anything to tell me?” pleaded the younger Marisa.
The circle began to shine, and the older Marisa considered for a second. “Actually, y’know, it prolly can’t hurt,” she mused, and grinned. “Alright, kid, so about your metal scraps--”
The circle flashed, and the older Marisa vanished unceremoniously. The chalk on the floor suddenly lifted itself into the air and condensed itself back into a small piece of solid chalk. Aside from the melted candles, there was no evidence that the ritual had ever been performed.
The younger Marisa stared at it for a moment blankly. It seemed that a lot had happened, and it seemed that not much had happened at all. But finally her gaze turned to the book at her side, still open to the page with the summoning circle on it. She carefully closed it, and placed it back on the bookshelf in her master’s room.
She took out another book. This one was simpler, and it was in a language she understood. There was still a week left until her master got back, and she’d at least have liked to have shown her something; some sign that she had grown, even a little bit.
Maybe it was the fact she knew how far she could go, now, that gave her that little bit of extra confidence.
She sat down at the little home’s table, and began to read.
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New Series, pt. 1 - Until Now
A NEW SERIES Y’ALL. Okay, I’m so excited for this one. It’s a friends to lovers <3 I need help thinking of a title so let me know!!
y/n and Daryl grew up together before y/n left for college, not long after, the world ended and Daryl had already left their town. y/n finds Daryl at the bottom of the ravine on his search for Sophia. After bringing him back to his people, they welcome y/n with open arms allowing the romance between y/n and Daryl to flourish.
Word Count: 2120
You paced the woods trying to pick up on the trail of the deer you had been tracking, suddenly drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a horse and someone in pain. Without thinking, you ran towards the sound, stopping quickly as your body was almost thrown over the edge of a ravine.
“Shit” You mumbled as you tried to focus on the body that laid still down the bottom. You could see blood spilling around him and knew you had to be fast if you were going to help. You found your way down without too many injuries, a few cuts and bruises and a sprained ankle but nothing compared to this guy.
You walked closer, cautious as to if he was still alive or about to turn. Finally you were able to focus on his face. You threw yourself to the floor next to him.
“Holy shit, no fucking way. Daryl?” He didn’t respond as his body laid still. Your head flew to his chest to listen for a heart beat. You could hear one as well as feel the rise and fall of his chest. “Daryl wake up. It’s me. I need you to wake up. It’s y/n” You placed your head on his chest as he began to stir beneath you. Your head shot up as you looked down at his slowly opening eyes, they were as blue as you remembered.
“God first I’m seein’ Merle and now it’s you. How hard did I hit my damn head. Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his head and you chuckled, throwing your arms around him. His entire body went rigid at the contact. You were real.
Daryl lifted the last of your stuff into the back of your car. “Ya promise to call me every damn day that ya gone.”
“Yes sir. I promise. I’ll miss you D but I’ll be back by Christmas.”
“Yeah I know.”
You stood up on your toes and placed a small kiss on his cheek, turning on your heels quickly so Daryl couldn’t see the shade of red your cheeks now were but the colour of his cheeks matched yours.
“Back by Christmas.” You muttered, loud enough so he could hear.
“Ya better be.”
You and Daryl had grown up together. You did everything together, knew everything about each other, well almost everything. You never told him that you loved him. He never admitted his love for you. The fear of ruining the friendship the two of you had overpowered any ideas of a confession of love. The day you left for college was one of the hardest days of Daryl’s life, watching you drive away and towards a future quite possibly without him in it broke him that day.
You hadn’t even made it home before the world went to shit, you never got to reunite with Daryl.
Here you were, crouched down at the bottom of a ravine, the reunion you hadn’t exactly dreamt of but wanted for so long. Daryl’s body was bruised and broken with a bolt through his left side. “Daryl, come on. I need you to sit up so we can figure out whatever is happening here.”
Daryl forced himself to sit up, his breathing was ragged as he clenched his teeth. His hands held where the bolt had pierced his side. You gently placed your hands over his to move them, he flinched at the contact and then hissed in pain at his sudden movement.
“I need you to let me see, we need to pull it out so we can bind it properly.”
Daryl moved his hands away carefully as his eyes focused on you. You were certainly a welcomed distraction. How did you even find him? You were even more beautiful than he remembered, the way the light reflected off the water and bounced off your eyes, giving off a certain light themselves, the ones that could ignite the fire in his chest so instantly. He wondered if-
His thoughts were interrupted by you ripping the bolt through his side and proceeding to shove a piece of ripped cloth over the wound to limit the amount of blood loss.
“MOTHER FUCKING SHIT BASTARD!” He yelled before his brain could even process what was happening.
“There, that was easy right? Please tell me you have a camp around here, I hope you do because you need stitches and fast.” You slipped your belt off and wrapped it around his waist securing the cloth and again, limiting the blood flow even more.
“Yeah, I’m stayin on a farm.”
You and Daryl managed to make it up the sides of the ravine and made your way towards the farm. Daryl Was stumbling along, barely able to walk but pushing himself nonetheless. You stumbled as quickly as you could with your ankle now swelling to twice its usual size. The farm was now in sight as you walked slowly behind Daryl, hobbling along at your own pace. Four men ran towards you and Daryl as you froze. Daryl was still slightly ahead of you when a man pointed a gun at his head.
“Third time ya pointed that thing at me. Ya gonna pull the trigger?” Daryl yelled.
At the sudden realisation that Daryl was not a walker, the attention was on you, the gun now aimed at your head.
“She’s with me.”
You closed your eyes, did they just shoot you? No, there was no pain. Your eyes opened to see Daryl now on the floor. The man who held the gun began yelling “NO!”
shit, shit, shit. You dove on the floor, checking where he was shot, the bullet grazed his head. Two of the men lifted Daryl up and began hurriedly walking towards the farm. Adrenaline pumped through you as your focus was now on a woman who ran towards the six of you.
“Oh my God, is he dead?” She asked.
“You the one that shot him?” Your focus quickly on her.
“I thought he was a walker.”
You walked up to the girl, your hand balled in a fist as your swung hard into her left cheek, sending her to the floor. “Fucking dumbass.” You limped away, towards the farmhouse as she remained on the floor, clutching her face.
An old man ran out of the house. “Take him up to the spare room, I’ll get my kit.”
Daryl’s surgery was quick, a few stitches and some pain killers. Then the attention was on you again as you sat on the bed next to Daryl. Close but not close enough to be touching.
“Thank you for saving him, my name is Rick Grimes.” Rick extended his hand to shake yours.
“Y/n y/l/n and it’s no problem. When I saw it was Daryl, there was no way I was leaving him there.”
“You know Daryl?”
“We grew up together” Daryl interrupted.
You smiled at him. “I left for college just before everything went to shit, by the time I made it home, Daryl was gone.”
Daryl looked solely at you know. “If I knew ya’d be comin’ back to town, I would have waited for ya.”
“Daryl, I saw the state of our town, you were right to leave as soon as you could.” Your hand brushed his slightly before he pulled his hand away and up to his mouth, succumbing to his habit of chewing on the skin around his thumb.
Rick stood up from his chair, “I’m gonna go and get you guys some food, I’ll send Hershel back to look at your ankle, y/n”
Rick left the room leaving you and Daryl in there alone. You looked at the archer who was already looking up at you sending shivers down your spine. You reached gently towards his head, pushing his hair away from his bandage that wrapped around where the girl had shot him.
“Heard ya hit Andrea pretty hard.” Daryl chuckled.
“Yeah, I don’t know what came over me, I just, seeing you hurt and knowing she was the one that did it…”
“I know what ya mean, It’s like, remember when Johnny broke up with ya, back in high school?”
“Oh my God, yes, I was heart broken.”
“Ya remember how he came to school a couple of days later, with a broken nose and he said it was a-”
“A snowboarding accident. Yeah I remember.”
“Well it wasn’t, I went to his house that night, hit him square in the face, broke his nose and busted his lip in one hit.”
“Oh my God, Daryl.” You both laughed “He was such an asshole to me, I don’t know why I liked him so much.”
“Me neither, ya deserved so much better.” Your eyes locked with his as your hand moved from his hair down to his cheek. The tips of his ears burned red as you leaned down ever so slightly. His eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.
Rick walked in with two plates of food, startling both you and Daryl, sending you off the bed and onto your bad ankle. You yelped in pain before sitting back down on the bed, both yours and Daryl’s cheeks flushing red.
“I uh, what was happening?” A slight smirk on Rick’s face
“Nothing!” You and Daryl responded in unison.
“Uhh, alright then, here’s your food, Hershel will be here in a sec to check your ankle.” Rick looked between the two of you, the smirk on his face grew.
You and Daryl ate your dinner in silence, pausing half way through your meal when Hershel, the old man, walked in. He examined your ankle and you winced.
“It’s not broken, just sprained, should heal itself soon but you should keep it elevated for the next couple of days. Unfortunately this is our only spare bed as Carl is in our other one.”
Daryl looked between you and Hershel “S’ okay, I’ll head back to my tent tonight.”
“Daryl, no. I can sleep on the chair, I’ll use the bed as a foot rest. It’ll be the best sleep I’ve had in a while, trust me.”
“I’ll let the two of you figure it out. Just keep it elevated.” Hershel left the room, leaving you and Daryl alone again.
“Take the bed, I’ll take the chair.” Daryl said as he tried to push himself out of the bed but struggled.
“You can hardly move, you take the bed, I’ll take the chair.”
“Nah, not happenin”
“I mean, we could both take the bed. If you’re okay with that.”
Daryl froze at your words. “It’s either that or I take the chair, Daryl.”
“Nah, I’ll move over, hold up.” Daryl shifted his body as close to the edge of the bed as he could. You moved yourself from your sitting position to under the covers, lying next to Daryl, far enough apart that you weren’t touching. Daryl reached over and flicked the lamp off as you got comfortable and closed your eyes. Your attempt to stifle a yawn didn’t work as you let the comfort of the bed surround you.
“Thanks for saving me.” Daryl mumbled.
“You would have done the same for me.”
It was true, he would go to the ends of the earth for you, do anything you asked him to. After all this time, his feelings for you never changed. Neither yours for him. You both fell asleep with ease, by the middle of the night you were tangled in each others arms.
You woke up as the first light settled in the room, you were definitely not in the position you had fallen asleep in, no, now your body was pressed up against his body, his arm was draped around you. Your stomach flipped with emotions. If it were up to you, you would stay in this position for eternity but what if he didn’t feel the same way. Surely he didn’t, the way he flinched every time you touched. But what about the moment the two of you shared last night. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him stir behind you slightly. You carefully removed his arm and pushed yourself back to the edge of the bed before he woke up.
He was already awake. He woke before you but remained still with his arm wrapped around you like he had always dreamt of. But when he felt you push away from him, he closed his eyes quickly and pretended to be asleep. You obviously didn’t want him touching you. Maybe you didn’t feel the same way about him. But what about the moment you shared last night?
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mistletoe - adam du mortain x f! detective
Pairing: Adam du Mortain x f!detective
Summary: The detective catches an unsuspecting Adam under the mistletoe during the division’s holiday party.
Rating: G/T (to be sure).Pretty tame, just fluff.
Warning: alcohol mention.
Word Count: 2.3k
Note: I just really really wanted to write this scene that cropped up in my head during a f u n bout of insomnia. I’d like to think this takes place teetering on the edge right before the deep romance sweeps these two fools away. Anyway i used this fic as a way to get over my fear of writing for twc and to get to know my detective... before i launch into the other ideas i have.
It’s not that she’s drunk.
No. Not drunk.
Happy, most definitely, and loquacious. More than the usual amount of conversation that he’s used to. And more laughter.
Definitely more laughter.
It’s an unrefined, rough, pitched-at-the-end sound he’s grown used to (fond of?) over the last year.
Where the more uncouth the subject... the more untamed it becomes, and fighting the stiff edges of his mouth to remain in place becomes an active task.
There’s something so unsuspecting about it too, like how everything concerning her has been up to now.
Olivia dances with Felix and Nate, and his oldest friend attempts to teach her how to move with the steps that feel like a lifetime ago. Where her shoulders, ankles, hips twist and she turns on the spot.
She sways with the motions of days gone past, as if she’s caught time in her hands — the elixir to it in her mug of wine clasped firmly in her grip — and Nate praises her.
Adam didn’t catch the name, he didn’t care for it six decades ago and he doesn’t think he’ll bother remembering it now. But he’s certain it’s something as ridiculous sounding as it looks... if she weren’t doing it surprising justice.
When she spins in Felix’s arms, the silver, sparkling discs of her dress catch in the station’s white light and he’s dazzled...more than he usually already is.
No. Not drunk.
In the handful of instances she stops by him during her social rounds, she asks if he wants anything -- a refill of the uninspiring wine? -- and his responses are short. Yes. No. Good. Hmm. And when he doesn’t have the words he manages a slight shake of his head or a passive shrug.
Too distracted by the smile on her face, the mischief he can see twinkling behind her eyes. Sometimes, he can believe it. That she was a troublemaker, up to no good with too much time on her hands, and not this...woman...this decorous facade of pencil skirts, unscuffed heels, and neatly ironed blouses.
He can hear it in the deep, unearthed tone she takes when she lands a passing, unassuming, coquettish comment.
The reason he keeps his answers mono-syllabic.
He watches as she hovers over the snack table, where the food has undoubtedly gone cold, compiling a paper plate of random assortments and grabbing a tin of soda. And when he can no longer see her, he follows the sound of her heels out of the main floor towards the entrance -- barely visible from the wall he’s been hugging all night.
Olivia places the plate on the officer’s desk currently on graveyard duty. He's been longingly listening to and watching the party taking place just a few steps away. But he thanks the detective kindly, playfully clinks tin against mug of wine.
She meets his eye on the way back -- brief, ever so brief -- before turning her gaze downward.
“You should come,” she said, directing her attention to the rest of the group. She avoided his stare, almost always avoiding his stare when it came to matters of bypassing his jurisdiction. But flitted reflexively to him, and then swivelled back to Nate and Felix (briefly over Mason), and she repeated. “All of you. You’re practically honourary members of the division.”
And although she didn’t say it to him, Adam knows (hopes?) she expected him to answer the invitation.
Earlier in the evening (much earlier because how long is this going to go on for?), Nate asks him if he’s enjoying himself and Adam muddles together a gruff answer.
His response, with the words “work commitment” hardly audible, prompts bark-like laughter from the second-in-command and claps him on the shoulder before heading back towards the crowd.
At the end of the night, which finally arrives right when Adam decides he can’t take another rendition of the tracklist that’s been on loop for the past four hours, he stays behind to help the detective clean up.
He sends the rest of the unit home, much to Mason’s relief and much to Felix’s displeasure, and volunteers to make sure the detective catches her cab and gets home safely.
Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself after Felix winks at him, corralled out of the station by Nate.
And then they’re alone... save for the officer who’s gone on his break.
She moves about space, clearing paper cups and forgotten plates of food in a large garbage bag. And she talks, and talks, and talks.
Adam loses track of what exactly, he’s just too busy listening to the quality of her voice. A little hoarse after all the chatting over the music and enthusiastic laughter. It gives it a new edge, one he could grow to like -- the sudden deep, tender quality of it.
Definitely not drunk as she launches into a spiel about something or other Nate taught her last week.
She tends to do this, jabber on about absolutely nothing in particular when it’s just the two of them. And although he prefers silence, he welcomes it. Because sometimes she’s not actually talking to him, instead using the stoic agent’s still presence to bounce ideas off of.
Not like he minds.
He’ll be whatever she needs him to be.
Adam tenses, unaware of where the thought could have surfaced out of so easily. He shocks himself out of his trance, out of following the detective around the room with soft, measured steps. Out of the unconscious non-committal noises he punctuates breaks in her speech with.
He stops just short of the doorway of the kitchenette.
Olivia turns to face him after dumping a number of coffee cups in the sink. She quirks an eyebrow, wiping her hands in a tea towel before casting it aside. Her mouth opens, but whatever witty remark she has ready dies in her throat.
Adam can’t decipher the zoetrope of emotions that flicker then disappear, hiding and lurking behind a wily smile. Her mouth is the colour of wild berries, purples and reds, and the crisp jasmine notes in her perfume remind him of a frosty mid-afternoon -- low winter sun in his eyes as he wades through a forest.
He can’t look right at her.
Gleaming winks of silver, a peek of white teeth, and a twinkle behind a dark curtain of hair.
He can scarcely recognise his voice, mostly a husky and unexpected croak.
A full view of pearly teeth and the stretch of Mondeuse Blanche shiraz-coloured lips.
Adam almost misses the throw-away manner she points a finger up in the space in between them. For a fraction of a second, he’s distracted from the sudden kick of her heart and flickers his gaze to where she’s directing him.
Obnoxious oval-shaped gold leaves, thickly crowded plastic branches, and pearly-coloured fake berries hover in the space he’s decidedly placed between them. His stomach lurches in immediate recognition of the artificial plant.
“Mistletoe,” she chuckles an airy sort of sound. Different from all the crass, rough gleeful noises she made all night.
A sound, maybe, she might wield against his sanity?
Adam’s gone rigid, the heat he’s been staving off all night makes a mockery of him, only egged on by the tugging of her lips when he glances back down at her.
She steps closer and he can’t react fast enough, genetic mutations damned under her vexatious gaze. Her heart thumps a little heavier, a chaotically determined sound he can’t fend off.
His own heart starts up that racket he’s grown to call reckless.
“I heard,” she begins, so close now he can see the little scar on her nose from an old piercing. Tannin, oak, and jasmines -- the sparkling and sweet scent of violet from her lipstick, “that it’s bad luck...to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe.”
The click of the ‘k’ and the hiss of the ‘s’ in that word hanging so heavy in the air, the breath of its remnants brush his cheek. Faintly, his mind wanders between two realms. One of old wives tales and superstitions where a kiss is required for every berry in the bunch and, the second, how, if it weren’t for those heels, where would that breath have landed instead?
Her sly grin is tickled by his lack of response, the stiffness creeping into his muscles and his conflicted expression.
“Commanding Agent, do you -- maybe -- want to help me…” she begins, another step closer and this time he doesn't think he wants to move, “fight off any unnecessary misfortunes?”
Adam doesn’t recognise himself. He doesn’t know where it comes from, or how he’s sanctioned the movement of his body. It’s minimal, but to Olivia, who has spent the last year fighting off the hunger from the nearly nonexistent mementoes, it’s colossal.
The smug smile on her face nearly slips.
It’s the tiniest, faintest, barely discernible half-nod as his gaze refuses to leave the curve of her lower lip. Fuller, rounder... he’s thought of the seam of her mouth longer than he’d like to dwell on.
She moves forward and there are no thoughts just the drumming in his chest that pounds a deafening beat. Her hand finds his first, a comfort from the heat roaring inside him, and he responds by tracing the lines of her palms with jittery fingertips.
Olivia shivers and why does that thrill him? He wonders how long until she decides to put him out of his misery.
Please. Please. Please. The thumping against his ribcage wants to meet the erratic pulse of hers.
Roused by his response, her other hand so warm and soft draws a curious path up his arm, over the swell of his bicep and past his shoulder before it hesitates to fully press at the back of his neck where he knows she can feel fevered skin.
It takes her an eternity, staring up at him with hooded eyes, dark fluttering eyelashes almost touching the tops of her cheeks. And he’d wait until whatever comes after that eternity.
This is the closest she’s ever been to him and he can’t help but revere the details he once took for granted.
Olivia rises and the hand behind his neck cautiously coaxes him to meet her.
And then, right as he thinks the world beneath his feet as he knows it will be thrown off its axis, she tilts her head a fraction and the hot press of her mouth meets his blushing cheek instead.
She lingers and everything amplifies.
She is a dizzying bottle of Chianti, left out in the sun too long, and warming him all the way down with each indulgent sip.
A field of blooming shrubs of jasmines.
Warm, brisk, spring morning sun.
He hears her deeply inhale, and does he have the same effect on her like she does on him?
His heightened senses register the moment she parts and moves away, suddenly cold and left with the weight of the cream of her lipstick.
Her touch is deliberate, soaking up the feel of his skin, the fine hairs at his nape, under her gliding palms -- and she settles back on her heels.
The imprint of her lips remains on his cheek, willing it to singe him -- mark him -- so he never has to forget what they feel like. The pressure of her mouth, the moment her breath shuddered.
Olivia makes to touch his cheek, to wipe away all evidence with the sweep of her thumb, but Adam stops her. He catches her wrist with reflexes she’ll never get used to.
He closes his eyes and he tunes in to the demanding call of his heart, thundering, thundering, thundering. And it won’t still.
Just a moment longer.
Is what it would ask.
Just a moment longer, so he can memorise the feel of her mark on his skin -- of the instance she cherished him, made room for him, during a fleeting blip that will be her life.
Olivia moves again, fighting against the gentle strength of his hand, and she rubs the pad of her thumb once, twice, three times. Until the smudge of her affection is reduced to a memory.
She smiles, unlike the smiles she shared earlier. There is no arrogance, no teasing, no playful ridicule.
She smiles -- with those lips that have touched him.
A sharp ringing echoes in the tiny kitchenette and, like he’s waking from a deep sleep, he blinks away the haze of their bewitchment.
As if nothing happened, Olivia digs into her purse, sources her mobile and answers. The conversation is brief, he doesn’t follow any of it, still reeling from her magnetism.
“My cab’s outside,” she says when she hangs up.
Still paralyzed, Olivia meets his eye and grins, before she drops her gaze to the floor.
She shakes her head and releases a small, anxious laugh. She touches his arm when she moves past him, out of the kitchenette, and heads for the exit.
He watches her leave, listening to the light click-clack of heels, still shaking her head and-- he practically hears the smile in her voice when she calls out behind her.
“Happy holidays, Commanding Agent du Mortain.”
Note II: Yeah, it’s The Twist. Nate was teaching Felix and Olivia the twist....because I said so and because i hc N being really into the 60s/70s music scene....long legs.....in....flared....jeans. So many typos. But if I didn’t post it when I did I was never going to post it.
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Iron 7 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)
Words: 2, 323
Post-credits scene (Iron man 1) / Chapter 8
"It's unfair that I can't go," Lily complains, walking into the living room.
"You should get used to it," Jess says without taking her eyes off the television where they’re playing the replay of the grand opening of Stark Expo. "No one else can find out who your father is.”
Lily leans against the back of the chair where Jessica is.
“It’s unfair. My dad hasn't even said anything about going, lots of kids have fun there,” She sighs.
The screen highlights the dance of some women in small red shorts and tops, referring to the armor. And to Tony with a huge smile showing his great achievement.
"Even he has more fun than me,” She grimaces. "Although, I think he’s more cocky now than before…”
“Big word,” says Jess. "Stop complaining. Maybe one day, I can take you.”
"If your father lets us visit him for free, of course,” She turns to see her and smiles. “Now finish your homework.”
Lily returns to the table with all the homework that her math teacher left her after her private class. She expected to go to school like a normal girl, but Pepper and Tony insisted on hiring several teachers to visit her during the week. "We can't risk it," They said, much less when reporters and practically the whole world follows Tony in every move since he broke the news about the Iron Man.
She can’t complain, some subjects are fun and she advances very fast, if she were in a school, she wouldn't be able to do it. In addition to the private lessons she has some with Happy, she appreciates that too. It's fun to see Happy struggling to learn the subjects with her.
"Hey, Lily. You have to see this,” Jess says from the living room. Lily returns and this time sits on the couch to see her father in the Senate or the military committee. Obviously, television doesn't show everything, but enough to see that her father just makes fun of everyone, especially that businessman Justin Hammer.
Both girls nod.
"And I also learned about worldwar-two, but Professor Edwards said it would take us longer to do our research because there is so much information," Lily informs walking next to Pepper.
"I'm glad you're enjoying your classes, honey," She says with a smile, but then sneezes.
"Are you sure you shouldn't be resting?" The worried girl asks.
"I'm fine, don’t worry.”
They both go down the stairs until they reach Tony's workshop. Pepper puts the combination and they enter. Lily, seeing Tony for the first time in a few weeks, runs towards him. Tony gets up from the chair and receives her with a hug, bending down to her height.
"You should also greet me this way, Pepper," Tony teases. Pepper rolls her eyes, but she can't help a smile at the cute image.
"Why didn't you wake me up when you arrived?" Lily asks as they part. She crosses her arms.
"I could hear your snoring outside,” He jokes. “No nightmares?"
"Didn’t have any this week.”
“Good, and enough waiting for me on the couch, last time you complained about back pain. Those complaints are not allowed until you’re fifty years old... or thirty, it depends,” He nods, ruffling the girl's hair making her laugh.
The moment ends when Pepper remembers why she was upset with Tony. Now they both walk around the workshop discussing things. Lily listens to them as she sits in the chair where Tony was. She frowns when she sees a brown box, but Pepper's comment distracts her.
"The Expo is a gigantic waste of time.”
“There’s nothing more important to me than the Expo,” answers Tony. “It’s my primary point of concern.”
"Hey!" Lily complains. “What about me? I’m your daughter! And you haven't taken me to Stark Expo yet, so unfair…” She says with a pout.
"What?" Tony says from the other side. “I'm sorry, kid. Grown ups talking here!" He answers by pretending not to have heard her.
Lily makes a face.
"The Expo is your ego gone crazy,” follows Pepper.
Lily stopped listening. Photos of boring cars on Tony's computers are more interesting than Pepper scolding her father. She only lifts her head when they return to the entrance. Tony trades a painting for an Iron Man painting. Then, suddenly, Tony appoints Pepper CEO of Stark Industries.
"Trying to figure out who a worthy successor would be,” says Tony over a few glasses of champagne, "and then I realized, well since she's only eight, she can't run a company,” He points out to the girl.
"Yet!" She yells from her place.
"It’s you. It's always been you.”
"I think I'm ready for that training," says Lily pulling the ropes of the ring in the middle of the room.
"Not yet, Smarty," Happy replies.
"But I'm eight now and I can outrun you.”
"Anyone can outrun Happy, kid," adds Tony.
"So why did you tell me to come if you won't let me train?"
“Watch us and learn.”
Lily makes a face. She’s getting tired of everyone forbidding her so many things.
It doesn't take long for Pepper to walk in asking Tony for a signature. Lily walks over to the white chair near Pepper. She sighs, she's about to complain to her, but the presence of another redhead interrupts her. She had never seen that woman and apparently she also distracts the two men.
"What’s your name, lady?" Tony asks
"Rushman. Natalie Rushman,” She introduces herself.
“Hi," greets Lily. Natalie looks at her with a smile.
"Wait, I thought no one should know about Stark Jr.'s existence,” Tony points out.
“She’s already signed a confidentiality contract. Don’t worry.”
Tony shrugs and invites Natalie into the ring. She obeys. Pepper sits on the couch next to Lily and Tony pulls her aside to sit on the same couch.
"Now she’ll be your assistant?" Lily asks. Pepper nods. “Wow, you used to be Tony's assistant, now you have one. I wish I had one,” She says.
"I want one of those too," says Tony. And with that, they argue again. Lily rolls her eyes, but something else interrupts her thoughts and the discussion.
Apparently Natalie is more than capable and better trained than Happy since she manages to throw him to the floor in one movement. The three of them get up from the couch.
"Happy," Pepper squeals.
Lily goes back up to the edge of the ring and smiles seeing how Happy gets up with difficulty. She raises her head to see Natalie.
"Cool! Can you teach me to do that?"
"Definitely not," Pepper and Nat say at the same time.
"Why not?" Lily frowns and steps out of the ring
The second redhead clears her throat, she puts on her shoes and talks to Tony about some documents. In the end, they finally finish the paperwork for Pepper to become CEO. Natalie leaves. Tony and Pepper start talking about a trip to Monaco.
"What? Are you going to travel again? You just arrived,” The girl complains, drawing their attention.
“It'll only be a couple of days, Lily," replies Pepper.
"That's what you always say.”
“Hey." says Tony. "It's a business trip, kid.”
"That too you always say,” She rolls her eyes. Pepper looks surprised, that's not how she used to act before. "Can I go this time? I can do my homework there.”
“Sorry, but no. Remember that you’re still a ghost." says Tony
"That's not fair. You always leave me here, I can't even go to a park and you don't let me accompany you, you’re hardly home anymore,” She says, raising her voice and causing a certain tingling to appear in her hands.
"Watch your tone, Lily,” says Tony starting to get annoyed. He looks down at the girl's clenched hands. "Turn that off, now.”
"Just this once, I promise to be good. If you want, I'll stay at the hotel,” She insists with a frustrated sigh. She opens her hands to avoid making a mess.
"I said no, young lady.”
"Lily Stark, I said no,” Tony ends with a firm voice.
The little girl clenches her teeth and runs out of the place before they can see her cry from anger.
"Huh, it brought out your moody side too, Tony," Happy says from across the room.
"I'll talk to her when we get back.”
Pepper feels guilty. Maybe they’d been more absent since Tony announced the identity of Iron Man and now it’ll be worse because of the new job. She wants to follow her, but she knows better to leave her alone for a moment.
"Hey, you broke your record," Jess says, handing a bottle to the girl, who gasps. She takes it and sits on the chair next to the girl.
It's been a couple of hours since Lily started running through the gated area of the Stark property.
"Can we do something else?" Lily asks.
Jess takes out the notebook where the itinerary is written.
"I suppose we can rest for a while," Jess replies, taking off her sunglasses.
"You didn't do anything, what are you going to rest from?" Lily says with a smile.
"I can't be in the sun that long, I want to be tanned, not burned.”
"If you say so.”
After the break, Lily continued with her task, finishing earlier that she is used to. The rest of the day, they both decided to just relax with some masks that Jess had brought.
"Why do they smell funny?" Lily asks feeling the texture of her mask.
"That's coconut, you'll get used to it,” answers Jess. “Afterwards we’ll paint our nails, we’ll watch romantic movies while we eat ice cream. It’ll be fun.”
"Why are we doing this?"
"It's what some girls are used to doing when they are alone or with their friends.”
Lily nods. "Why?"
Jess laughs. At this point she’s already used to the onslaught of questions that she sometimes receives.
“It's fun, it's also girls quality time, you know, they talk about handsome people, the boys they like from school. It’s a distraction that sometimes we need, even from parents.”
"Do you need a distraction from your parents?"
“Okay,” Jess gets comfortable on the bed to sit in front of the girl. “Many times, especially when you’re a teenager, you argue with your parents and it’s normal. That’s why it’s good to have friends with whom you can vent. Trust me, if I didn't have my friends, my relationship with my mother would be a disaster. But it's not a bad thing,” She clarifies when she sees Lily's grimace. "Parents also need to get away from their children a bit.”
"Is that why Tony travels a lot?"
"I don’t think so. He’s an important businessman and he just wants to take care of you, that's why you should stay here.”
"It's not fair,” She crosses her arms.
“Yes, you should get used to that too. When you’re older it’ll be a little easier.”
Lily's head fills with more questions.
"Can I vent to you about my dad?" Jess laughs.
"Tell me everything.”
They both talk about many things and do girlish stuff. Lily learns a few things as Jess tells her about her life as a student and everything she does when she’s not taking care of her. At one point, she wishes she had that life, but, even if she could go to normal school, she couldn't have all of that, at least not like Jess.
Night comes, Jess sleeps in the guest room leaving Lily in her room. The great Stark mansion is completely silent, the nightmares that had not tormented the girl for several months return and this time, they’re worse.
She’s on the floor of an empty room, the four walls are completely white. She doesn't see anyone else, but she knows someone is watching her. She wants to ask for help, she wants to scream, but no matter how much she opens her mouth, nothing comes out of her. Her torso and arms are trapped with a straitjacket. She tries to get out of it, but everything is useless.
The tickling starts in her hands, but this time she’s not in control and quickly spreads throughout her body. She wants to burn the straitjacket, but in the dream it’s not possible.
The girl suddenly wakes up sitting on the mattress. She looks everywhere, but her mind is still in that empty room. She falls off her bed, but keeps moving until a wall stops her.
“Lily, it's okay! Quiet! You have to breathe…” Jess says in the dark.
“Don't!" screams Lily. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. "Please don't hurt me!” She sobs. “Please, please…”
"Lily, it's me!” The girl approaches the girl and touches her arm, but she removes it immediately when she feels the high temperature. Jess screams in fright, causing Lily to jump in place of her. "J.A.R.V.I.S, turn on the lights!” She orders and the AI obeys.
Lily blinks trying to focus her vision, when it happens, what she sees is another fear: Jess is in front of her looking at the blisters on her hand.
She had done that. Lily burned Jess.
Memories of when this happened with her mother come to her mind, causing her panic to escalate.
She doesn't hesitate twice to leave the room, ignoring Jessica's calls. She runs through the house, down the stairs and to the workshop. J.A.R.V.I.S lets her in and sets the code so that no one else could enter. Finally, Lily goes to one of Tony's cars and hides underneath it. She bends her legs and hugs them to her chest. The only thing that can be heard in the workshop are the uncontrollable sobs of the girl.
If your username is crossed out it’s because Tumblr didn’t let me tag you, sorry. If you want to be removed from the taglist, you can tell us, we also make mistakes, lol
@stardusthigh @silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @aylauwuuniverse @tyb1 @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs
@heavenlymistakes @lauramacch @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual
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handmaid - 25
PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader
WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)
A/N: CHILDREN, SHIELD YOUR EYES FOR THIS ONE. For those over 18, i hope you enjoy this chapter xx
It was late in the evening. Within the static sound of silence as the soft cricketing coming from outside his window, a roar of laughter broke into the atmosphere of his bedroom. Forcefully closing his eyes and pulling his duvet over his head, Sebastian wished the sounds would subside yet every time the silence over ruled his mind, another round of laughing would break through.
After what felt like an hour of trying to fall back into a deep and sound slumber, Sebastian quit his trying, instead climbing off his bed and walking off his bedroom. It was no oddity to have the house filled with people, in all honesty it was odder for the house to be empty, however, this particular day, everyone seemed to be having a good time between the smell of cigars and the sounds of bottles being opened. He observed the party from the end of the stairs, being mostly ignored by his father’s associates except for one particular woman.
He noticed her eyes drift from the party all to way to him, a warm smile forming on her face. Swiftly, she got away from the table, walking over to where he was standing and crouching over to his height. She dressed no different than the other women in the room, wearing tight yet beautifully tailored clothes with her hair swiftly brushed to the side of her neck allowing for the view of her décolletage where a gold necklace laid comfortably. Unlike the other women, she had a rather inviting smile and the type of eyes that always seemed to smile even when her lips weren’t.
- Hi, I’m Robin. What’s your name? - she spoke in a very soft velvety voice which convolved the atmosphere in warm cozy feelings.
- And who is this? - she pointed at the stuffed bunny he was holding by one of its ears.
- Oreo. - he coyly said, a bit embarrassed in the presence of the elegant woman.
- That’s a beautiful name. You have great taste. Is the noise bothering you, Sebastian? - he nodded, face hidden behind the fur of his stuffed bunny. - I’m sure we can do something about that.
Sebastian never really ended up going through his father’s office’s belongings, mostly getting his staff to pack it all in cardboard boxes which had ended up on the highest shelves that lined the walls of his office. Y/N had gotten to it rather fast and now they were surrounded by several boxes filled with contracts and piles of papers. Most contracts Sebastian had never heard of and was rather interested in reading while Y/N was looking through his contact book.
He couldn’t help but stare at her and how breathtakingly stunning she looked just while analysing a little black book, with little baby hairs falling in front of her face while she bite onto her lip mindlessly and a hand standing on top of the bird shaped charm on her necklace.
- No Robins. - Y/N sighed, the tinge of sadness overwhelming the breathing sound.
- I could swear my father knew someone with that name. - his hand came to rest on her thigh, rubbing invisible circles on the fabric of her trousers. - Maybe you ought to question Daniel or his father about it.
- I would rather avoid the “you’re not in the mob” discussion. - her cheeks raised up to the bottom of her eyes, a tight lipped smile slowly forming. - I shouldn’t be digging into this. They’re dead, it’s not like they’re gonna suddenly return if I find who they were.
- Listen ... - he scotched towards her, back slightly bent so his eyes were at the same height as hers. Yet, the handmaid seemed more interested in looking at the lines in her palm rather than the mob boss. Something in the back of her head screamed at her to let past be past and stop annoying and wasting Sebastian’s time and as such, she couldn’t hold eye contact. - Whoever they are, they can’t stay a secret forever. Nothing stays a secret in this business for long.
- What if they’re not dead and they just didn’t want me? - there had always been that option in her mind, mostly due to a comment one of her classmates had made years ago. It was the only plausible explanation as to why both Daniel and Mr. Forrest dismissed her questions about her parents. After all, it wasn’t like a baby is always welcomed and as mere workers maybe they didn’t have the money to raise her. Yet, the woman in the picture seemed to be dressed in rather expensive garments. Maybe the simple answer was that they didn’t want her.
- Who cares. Who the hell are they not to want you?
- Nobody seems to.
- I want you. - his finger caressed her jaw, pushing a few strand of hair away from her face. Her gaze lifted from her palms to his face and his clear blue eyes before she found herself leaning towards him, her hand placed on the back of his neck as she kissed him. Y/N pushed him softly towards the carpeted grounds of his office and climbed on top of him, removing her Christmas jumper before throwing it to floor, leaving her in a rather scandalous red lacy bra she had gotten from Gwen as it had not fit her.
She could see in his eyes, dark and blue, her own reflection and that of her nakedness, as well as his thoughts battling each other as he attempted to choose what to do - push her off and help her find more of the stuff she was looking or enjoy the time he still had and make a choice later. It didn't matter. Before he could say or do anything to prevent her, Sebastian was already enchanted by the way she rolled her hips on top of him.
He groaned at the look of her on top of him and his hands, instinctively, moved up to hold her thighs as to push her further against him. This allowed her to feel his thick member harden further under her, making Y/N moan and groan against his ear as she grinded against it as teasingly and slowly as she possibly could. Driven insane by the pleasure she was giving him, Sebastian grabbed her body, wrapping his large arms around the handmaid’s whole figure, turning and pinning her under his body, worshiping her body in any and every way he knew how.
Gradually, his kisses became wilder and wilder escalating from small pecks and nibbles on her neck to sloppy wet kisses and bites, painting her skin with hickeys that would show up later, and making her gasp and moan at the sensation of his warm lips on her cold body. He traveled further and further down, his tongue gliding skilfully across the valley of her breasts yet it was when he wrapped his hot tongue around her perky buds that Y/N completely lost herself with pleasure. At that moment, she was grateful there was no one at the penthouse as she was sure every room had a good understanding of what was happening in his office. She moaned as she pushed her hips forward, wanting to create some sort of friction to give some rest to the growing heat in between her legs. He smirked at this, sliding his fingers down to the middle of her legs and rubbing them over her entrance through her leggings, which had also grown wet.
- Isn’t someone excited ... - he smirked, hands making quick work of her leggings as he pulled them quickly, along with her matching red panties.
She bit her lip with need as Sebastian got rid of his own clothing, taking off his sweatpants and leaving him completely naked which made her mind go various other dirty places as she realised he had been going commando this whole time. Lining up his length, Sebastian pushed inside of her slowly to tease her further. Y/N groaned, tightening her hold on his waist, begging to be taken by him and for once he heard her pleas but gave her no time to adjust to his size as he snapped his hips right into hers before beginning to thrust.
- S...Sebastian, don't stop. - Y/N pleaded in murmurs, sinking her nail polish free nails into his back which would for sure would leave some red marks as he thrusted faster and harder into her heated core. He had settled for an easy albeit painful slow pace as not to hurt her but once her legs started to wrap around his waist a little bit too tightly he quickly understood what she wanted and moved his hips against hers as fast as a bullet coursing through pure air.
- You're still so fucking tight, angel. - he cursed, nuzzling against the crook of her neck and nibbling on the skin he found there which only excited her even more. In all honesty, she would have never pictured herself as one to do it outside the bedroom but here she was.
The feeling of his lips circling around already bruised hickeys on her neck made her moan loud and clear in his ear, hands moving from his back lightly covered with sweat to his hair which was glued to his skin, running her fingers through it as he kissed and peppered her with kisses, each more sloppier and wetter than the previous ones. The handmaid groaned deeply at the fast pace that grew, both in velocity and intensity. As her whines became harder to control, she found herself near the edge and with just a few more thrusts and she was sure to cum but once Sebastian took notice of this, he slowed down drastically.
- No ... Sebastian ... - she whined before she was cut off by his teeth nipping at her bottom lip, making her back arch towards his chest and her breasts press up against his chest as tightly as ever, specially since the two of them were in a mess of an embrace with one arm wrapped tightly around her back while the other served as support. She was a newly defiled virgin but she could bet he was probably better at this than the others. - Don’t.
- I adore you, little angel but you don’t get to give me orders. - he told her, teasing her as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. This made Y/N groan in reply, throwing her head back into the piles and piles of contracts. - Come on, my angel. Beg for it.
- What? - she questioned, a pout forming on her lips as she looked at his almost devil-like eyes. Sebastian found it adorable how confused she looked at now getting her way.
- Beg for it. - he stilled his movement completely making her whine. - Go on, little angel. I know you can do it.
- I need y...you so, so much. R..Right now, please. - she pleaded.
- I don't think so, angel. I'm having fun hearing you moan my name. - Sebastian chuckled darkly, running his finger along her jaw.
- P...Please, Sir. - as soon as the title escaped her mouth, she noticed how his eyes shifted and turned dark with lust. Y/N puckered her lips before raising her feet slightly, pushing him towards her.
With a swift motion, his arm slipped from under her body to her knees, raising them both so he could go deeper than before, making her whole vision turn dark with spots that slowly appeared as he continued faster and harder as he mumbled “you little vixen” under his breathe. His blue eyes, now as dark as stormy sea waters, hovered above her and watched her attentively with a smirk, biting and nibbling on her lips, barely muffling her moans.
- Sebastian! - she screamed loudly, a writhing mess under him as she finally climaxed, shivering and shuddering against his broad-shoulder figure while he continued to snap his hips back against her own, in a sloppier and messier manner, until he himself came with a loud groan erupting from his chest in the shape of he name. Exhausted, he collapsed right on top of her, turning so that she was laying on top of his chest. - Are you gonna send me off again?
- No, I think I’ll keep you here this time. - he smiled at her, pecking her lips in a soft, velvety manner. - I promise you we’ll find your parents.
- You know you don’t have to do that, right? I know how you have work to do and a reputation to maintain.
- I like a challenge, angel.
She rested against his chest, letting all her worries flow away. In this state, there was no Gwen, no mob, no money or status, it was just the both of them, intertwined. Nothing else mattered. However, 30 minutes away from them something did matter. A man all dressed in black, wearing a matching pair of sunglasses met up with another man just a bit outside of the Forrest residence. In his hand, a beige envelope.
- I hope you know I’m putting my neck on the line to get you this. - the one in the dark suit secretly and subtly handed the envelope to the other one standing in front of him. - I don’t know what you’re expecting to find in there, Williams.
- Trust me, if I’m right, your reward is gonna be bountiful.
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Home > Steve Rogers
|| pairing: 1940′s!steve rogers x black!reader
|| word count: 3,224
|| warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of war, mention of Bucky’s death, canon divergence/canon adjacent
|| challenge: @cake-writes 1940′s challenge: “Loose lips sink ships”
|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo 2020 O5: Steve’s Compass
|| note: I totally forgot about this challenge, lol. I signed up for it last year and it just totally slipped my mind until today. Which is why I’m posting so late (here in the US anyway) so I can make the due date of today, May 8th. This is canon adjacent? Canon Divergence? I don’t know, lol. All I know is it’s 1945 and Steve never crashes his plane. He goes home to get his girl. The timing might be a little off. I went off the MCU timeline, where he gets injected around 1939? When he’s around 21 years old.
The song reader is singing is Lover Man by Billie Holiday and her outfit is also inspired by Billie. I’m not sure of the gif credit, I got it from google. If you know, or if it’s yours, please let me know so I can credit you! Line credit once again goes to @writeyourmindaway!
“The night is so cold and I’m so all alone. I’d give my soul just to call you my own.”
You sway slowly as you croon into the microphone, the band playing behind you. You scan the small room, packed with bodies, all eyes on you as you sing. They sip on their drinks under the dim lights and there’s a low murmur from the people at the bar, but even they turn and lean against it to watch you, putting their orders on hold for just a few minutes. It’s still amazing to you - a transplant negro girl from Louisiana - having all these faces staring back at you, admiring you. Black faces, white faces, tan faces, it didn’t matter. They were all here for you.
The bar is a small one but word spread fast and within months, not a chair or table or stool could be found empty on a Friday or Saturday night when you were there. The cops don’t even really bother you or Sam, the owner and one of the first people to notice your talent, anymore. Some even stop by for a drink and a quick song.
Your eyes flutter shut, “Got a moon above me but no one to love me. Lover man, oh, where can you be?” You hear the door creak open and close seconds later, but continue to sing, “I’ve heard it said that the thrill of romance can be like a heavenly dream. I got to bed with a prayer that you’ll make love to me.”
There’s a sudden commotion. You pop your eyes open, squinting as you try and make out the dark silhouettes in the corner. A few heads turn at the voices and loud shhhh’s ring out throughout the room. The noise dies away from the door, but the bodies are still crowded around - Jimmy, the bouncer, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, the bartender and maybe Sam, you can’t tell. In the center of them, a mess of blonde hair.
“Steve,” Sam whispers hard, “She doesn’t want you here, you know that.”
Steve’s shoulders slump a little as he takes a deep breath, “I haven’t seen her in six years.” He answers slowly, softly, “Please.”
Sam and Rhodey exchange glances before Sam takes a deep breath. He tosses his eyes back towards the stage to watch as you sing. Quick memories flash back to him from years before. Steve helping, well trying to help, set up the place when Sam first bought it. You and Steve slow dancing together in the middle of the empty floor. The three of you kicking back with ice cold Coca Cola’s, daydreaming about how big this place was going to be one day.
He cuts his eyes back to the tall blonde in front of him. He didn’t believe it at first, when he saw a picture of him in the papers. The sickly, five foot something Brooklyn boy was now a towering six foot man. Rippling muscles, no lingering cough, a straight spine… this wasn’t the Steve Rogers that left for war. This is Captain America standing in front of him now.
“Sam,” Steve starts, “Rhodey, you know me.” He pleads, “Please, just a minute of her time, that’s all I ask.”
Rhodey lets out a breath and throws his hand on his hip, “Just let the boy stay. He gets outta hand, Jimmy’ll throw him out.”
Steve cuts his eyes towards the burly Jimmy. He’s big, but he’s no match for the new, improved Steve Rogers, “I don’t want to hurt you, Jimmy.”
“Shit,” Jimmy swears under his breath, “I’ve read all about you. I don’t want you to hurt me neither.”
“One drink.” Sam warns, his eyes stern, “One drink and you gotta go. I don’t want her getting upset over the likes of you.”
Steve throws up his hands, “One drink.”
“You got it?” Sam asks, turning towards the soft-hearted Rhodey.
“I heard ‘ya. One drink, that’s it.”
Sam turns on his heel and moves off without another word. Rhodey waves Steve with him, walking back behind the bar to grab a tall glass, “Sip it slow, Rogers.”
Steve tips his head towards the older man and accepts the golden liquid that’s slid his way. He brings it to his lips and takes a small, slow sip as he turns to face the stage. His eyes soften immediately at the sight of you. You’re just as beautiful as he remembered, although, a little more grown up now. You’re in a black sequin, form fitting dress - low cut to expose your… one of his favorite parts of you. A large white flower is pushed into your hair and a small smile quirks onto his face. He used to love bringing you flowers.
He closes his eyes so he can hear you, just like he used to. Suddenly, it’s 1935 again. The two of you, with Bucky pulling up the rear (only there for you and Steve’s protection), walk slowly home from school. They’d wait for you everyday, right around the corner of your school, and as soon as the two of you were out of eyeshot of anyone, he’d link his fingers with yours and kiss you right on your cheek. With your fingers laced together, your arms swinging gently, you’d sing some old song, one he’s never heard before, one you’d have to explain to him as an old southern spiritual. Bucky would always know the songs, but he wasn’t as sheltered as Steve. He was worldly already at seventeen.
Steve lets out a slow breath as he lets the words of your song seep into him.
Strange as it seems
Someday we’ll meet and you’ll dry all my tears
Then whisper sweet little things in my ears
He has every intention of doing just that.
“A- huggin’ and a-kissin’, oh, what we’ve been missin’. Lover man, where can you be?”
You smile as the band finishes and the room erupts in applause for you. You thank the band, extending a hand of your own for them before you announce a short intermission for a quick smoke and a drink. Jimmy helps you off the stage and ushers you towards the bar, where you’re met with a large smile and a ready made Manhattan.
“That was beautiful, doll.” Rhodey compliments, handing you a cigarette before striking a match, “Just beautiful.”
“You’re too kind,” you giggle as you lean forward, placing the cigarette to your lips for him to light, “I was a little flat.”
He waves you off, scoffing quickly, and gives you a wink before he moves to another patron. You take a drag of your cigarette and let out the smoke slowly before flicking the butt and bringing your drink to your lips. You hum lightly as the sweetened liquor slides down your throat and settles in your belly, giving you an instant warmth. You swear, you don’t care where you go, Rhodey makes the best damn Manhattan in all of New York.
“You sounded amazing up there.”
You freeze as the voice sounds to your right. Your lips part as the familiar voice swirls around your brain, activating a part that you thought you had left behind. You turn towards the owner and gasp at the person staring back at you. You recognize most of him. His eyes, that wispy blonde hair that he used to sweep away from his forehead, those big ol’ ears. But, that strong jaw, the height, the thickness… you didn’t believe it then - the stories, the pictures - but God, you can’t deny it now.
Doesn’t make you any less mad.
You drop your eyes back to the glass in front of you and take another drag of your cigarette, “Thank you.” You say flatly.
“I always knew you’d make it one day.” Steve says softly, “I knew people would love you.”
“Not the right people apparently.” You snap back.
You close your eyes and rub your temple as the anger you buried six years before starts to resurface. You feel his eyes on you, those same blue eyes that you used to see your forever in. You turn back towards him, blinking quickly. You don’t say anything, you just stare at him while he stares back at you. Anger flashes through you again as he gives you those puppy dog eyes, trying to make you feel bad for him.
“Why are you here?” You ask bluntly, “I told Sam I didn’t want you here.”
“I wanted to see you. I had to.”
“For what? Hmm? To spring something else on me, Steve? You have a wife? A kid on the way?”
He sighs as you practically scream at him, “It’s been six years, you can’t honestly still be this mad at me.”
“A lifetime could pass, and I still wouldn’t want to see your face.” You stand, grabbing your drink, “Give the Germans a message for me, hm? Tell them that if you’re still breathing, they aren’t doing their job so well.”
You turn and push through the crowd of bodies before he can say another word. You finish your set some hour or two later and stay behind for a little attention, after all, you are a single girl. You feel those eyes on you the entire while but you pay him no mind. You laugh, you flirt, you nuzzle in a little closer than you usually would - pull on a few ties. A twenty seven year old girl should be a wife. The man you thought would make you an honest woman decided war was the better option.
It’s almost midnight before you decide to head home. It’s a nice night, the sky clear and full of bright stars, so you wave Sam off when he offers to walk you home. He insists, but you know this neighborhood like that back of your hand. You wouldn’t feel safer in any other place in the world. So, he wraps your fur scarf around your neck and sends you on your way with a quick kiss on the cheek and a smile.
You’re not but ten steps away from the bar when you first notice the presence behind you. You stop to light another cigarette before you call out to him, “I don’t need you to follow me.”
“I’m gonna walk you home.”
“I don’t need you too.” You reinforce.
“I’m going to walk you home anyway. I’ll keep my distance, I promise.”
You sigh heavily. The persistence of him hasn’t changed and the pounding headache you have won’t let you argue. You walk slowly, taking in the fresh air and the calm night as the one and only Captain America follows you home. He keeps his distance, just like he promised. Once you climb the steps to your stoop, you turn again, watching as he stops at the bottom of the steps.
“I’m home now, thank you.” You say flatly again, clearing your throat.
He nods gently, “My pleasure.”
You blink at him, your lips parting as words threaten to fall from them. You open your mouth wider, even inhale to begin to speak, but you can’t. The words just won’t come. The memories of your last night come flooding back to you - the screaming, the tears. If you walk out that door, don’t you ever think about coming back. Do you hear me, Steve? Don’t you ever come near me again!
Your eyes start to water at the thought. You have to turn your head away from him, you have to stare down the street to try and stop the tears from falling. It doesn’t work. You drop your head as a single tear slips down your cheek and splatters on your patent leather pumps. Your chin trembles as you glance back up towards the sky and hold your hand over your mouth.
“Let me make it up to you,” he says, his voice full of emotion, “I can fix it.”
“We had plans, Steve.”
“I know that,” he answers quickly, “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “Loose lips sink ships, Captain.”
He takes a deep breath, “I don’t really care if you or not. Let me fix it - I can fix it.”
“Fix it?” You shout as all of the pent up emotion you’ve held in for all these years comes pouring out onto your cheeks, “Fix it? How are you going to fix it? I’m just supposed to forget that you walked out on me? That you chose killing Germans over starting a life with me?”
“You don’t understand-”
“I don’t need to understand! You and Bucky both, you just -”
Your words come to halt at the mention of his name. Steve drops his head as he swallows hard and has to close his eyes. Bucky’s mother didn’t even have a body to bury. You couldn’t breathe when you heard the news. His sister, Rebecca, came to tell you and you just… you hadn’t ever felt a pain like that. James Buchanan Barnes was good to you - loved you like you were one of his own. Not only had you lost the love of your life, you’d lost your best friend now too.
You clear your throat, “You both just left. No warning, barely a goodbye and poof. Gone.”
“I thought about you everyday,” Steve says, his eyes still closed, “Every damn day. You were the only thing that kept me alive.”
You laugh sarcastically, “Don’t say that. I had nothing to do with keeping you alive, that shit you got pumped into you did.”
He shakes his head emphatically, “You kept my heart beating. That’s what I mean. I was fighting for you, and for Sam, and my mom and dad. I had a duty,” he stresses, his voice breaking under it, “You don’t understand what that meant to me, being able to fight.”
You roll your eyes but he continues anyway, “It had nothing to do with my love for you. I could have done it better, yes. I could’ve communicated with you better, yes, but it had nothing to do with how much I loved you. How much I love you even now… despite you wanting me dead.”
You sigh heavily as your words from earlier in the evening, “I didn’t - I didn’t mean that.” You answer softly.
He flashes a knowing smile, “Yeah you did.”
You roll your eyes again and shrug. You glance back down the street, sniffling softly as you hug yourself. You can’t lie to yourself, you are glad he made it home in one piece. You blink back at him, finding his big, wide, blue eyes on you still. He takes a step closer, resting his hand on the railing. He pulls something from his pocket, running his fingers over the gold cover before he pops it open.
He takes another breath as a small smile spreads on his lips. He turns it towards you and holds it out for you to take. You eye him suspiciously for a few seconds, but you take a step, and then another, and another until you’re within reach of the round object. You take it from his fingers and bring it to your eyes, taking a breath when you see a picture of yourself staring back at you.
“That’s my compass. I used it every day - I saw you every day. You are why I made it home.” He says softly, his watery eyes bouncing between yours, “I’m home now - for good, and that’s how I can fix it. I willingly offer you every day of my life from this minute on. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll get for you. I’ll protect you, I will love you, I will honor and treasure you. I’ll give you every piece of me.”
You hold a hand over your chest, for fear that your heart will leap right out of it. You drag in deep breaths as you shake your head, “I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know you.”
“You know me,” he answers quickly as he pushes up the stairs to meet you, “I’m still me, just in a new body, that’s all.”
“I don’t want this new body. I loved you just as you were.”
He grabs your hands, bringing the backs of your fingers to his lips as you cry, “I know you did baby. Give me a chance, baby doll. Please? You’ll like this new body once you see it, I promise.” He smiles.
You don’t. Deep in the back of your mind you want to believe him. You want to fall into his arms and have him kiss your tears away and make love to you until you can’t stand it anymore. You want to wake up in his arms tomorrow and every day after that until you take your dying breath - but it’s not that easy. You were idealistic in highschool and stayed that way right up until the day he left, but you aren’t now. You can’t afford to be. It’s still only 1945. He’s still a white man, you’re still a negro woman. You’re still not able to mix, not that boldly anyway.
“It’s not that easy.” You whisper.
He rests his forehead to yours, “It is that easy,” he whispers back, “Let me prove it to you.”
“No, it’s - they won’t leave us be. You can’t be with me - “
“Don’t you talk like that.” He says sternly, “I dare anybody to say anything to you. I’ll throw ‘em through a goddamn wall.”
“Steve - “
He cuts you off, bringing his finger to your lips. You close your eyes and take a few deep, calming breaths. God knows you want to believe him. You’ve been so angry for so long. He places his large hand to your chest, resting his palm right over your heart.
“I can make you love me again.”
You inhale sharply as you look up at him, “I never stopped loving you, Steve. I never stopped.”
You moan when he crashes his lips to yours. He lifts you from your feet with complete ease, an ease you’ve never seen him display before, and crushes your now much smaller body to his. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you kiss him back hard, pulling back only to tilt your head before diving back in for more of him. You press your hands to the sides of his face as you catch your breath, his lips moving down to your chin and to your neck, placing kisses on every inch of exposed skin.
You dig into your purse, pulling out your keys. He pulls back - out of breath, his lips flushed red and swollen as he stares up at you. You push your keys into the palm of his hand and wrap your legs around his waist as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. You close your eyes as he holds you tight, cradling an arm underneath your behind before he walks up to the front door of your building. He slips the key inside the lock and twists, pushing the door open, before you direct him to your humble apartment.
You wake up in his arms the next morning, and every day after that until you take your last breath.
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Pokemon AU FBI SWAT Team
Contrast to what I initially did with this AU, now the R6S operators aren’t monotype trainers anymore. Instead, I’ve given them three Pokemons they might have grown up with, and the other three are related to the operators’ play style and gadgets they got from the Rainbow. The last choice is usually to balance the whole party out, because they are meant to serve in a competitive setting as well.
Also a little star (★) sign is the Pokemon that is usually outside of the Pokeball to have a stroll with their trainer (just like Heart Gold and Soul Silver did, or like the good old Yellow version’s Pikachu back in the days.) I credit @dagoth-menthol for the idea!
Golurk - Met this one as a Golett when Ash was young and growing up in Israel. Relations to Ash’s Jewish heritage (as Golett and Golurk are inspired by golems,) and also the Pokemon that her grandmother (savta) approved of. Before the Golett, Ash went out to catch Pokemons of her own but her grandmother kept releasing them, saying they are all un-lady like. Young Ash was also enamored upon reading the PokeDex entry that stated ‘The Golurk flies across the sky at Mach speeds,’ which had been her secret wish to escape from her grandmother’s authoritarian ways.
Gallade ★ - TLDR: Grandma expected both of the Pokemon and granddaughter to bear traditionally feminine images, but they said, “No thank you.”
When grandmother gave young Ash a Ralts, the old woman sang how it would become a graceful Gardevoir. Ash obliged and trained the Ralts and had it evolve into Kirlia up until her last year of middle school. She knew her Kirlia was male and had the chance to become Gallade, but she didn’t dare defy the matriarch. Then when the Kirlia didn’t seem too eager to evolve into Gardevoir - those moments when he didn’t dance as he usually would, Ash realised that her stress towards grandmother’s attitude was affecting the Pokemon (Kirlias are supposed to read their trainer’s mood which gives them the energy for its psychokinetic power.) Fearing that her internal conflict was affecting what the Kirlia would want, Ash had to ask, “You don’t have to think about how I feel. Which would you like to be? Gardevoir or Gallade?” At that moment Ash was scared of her Kirlia choosing to be Gallade, despite it being her secret wish. So when the Kirlia chose to be Gallade, it was nerve-wrecking, but she knew this was the right decision for her Pokemon; her friend. And this was the moment for Ash to stand up against her grandmother. If her Gallade can be brave with his choice, so could she. Ash had the full right to study engineering and enlist in the military.
Zangoose - Ash finally got to catch a Pokemon of her taste. It didn’t matter what her grandmother said. No one was going to judge for her choice of friends. Despite others’ advice on which moveset to use on Zangoose, Ash chose to not have the ‘Facade’ with ‘Flame Orb’ together. She didn’t want to exert too much control like her grandmother did.
Talonflame - The shooting star that breaks walls with immense power. Fast, powerful and is able to reveal the enemies as they are with ‘Defog.’
Jolteon - Speedy powerhouse. Ash usually goes out for run with this Pokemon, along with Talonflame.
Garchomp - @swordliger‘s awesome suggestion! Ash has taken liking to its speedy dive-bomb nature. The mass of destruction and force, quite fitting for her play style and ‘Breach charge’ (Stone Edge.)
Bibarel - Thermite’s ‘heritage’ as a fourth-generation Marine. He had many choices suggested by his family and peers, but young Thermite insisted that if he was to choose a water Pokemon, it had to be a Bidoof that he would grow into Bibarel. He loved how cute, simple and nice it felt. Later this Pokemon also helped Thermite to form his own unique kind of discipline.
Infernape ★ - Pranking buddy. The agile Chimchar was a perfect partner for Thermite to yoink things here and there, placing water balloons on top of people’s head for pranks and other tomfooleries. People at his town used to call them the ‘Sun Wukong’ pair (from Thermite’s bio ‘due to the town having a major concentration of Chinese Americans, Trace grew up to have a conversational level of Mandarin,’) so the pair happily basked in such reputation.
Beedril - A good buddy he met during his Hazardous Materials Response Unit days. The Weedril 'has an extremely acute sense of smell,’ so it used to sniff out dangerous substances. It wasn’t supposed to be a combat Pokemon, but Thermite formed an unexpectedly strong bond with it and they began to hang out ever since.
Electrode - For the high explosive power to open walls. Thermite keeps a ‘Revive’ handy for this little silly billy.
Darmanitan - High fire power. The PokeDex entry says, ‘its internal fire burns at 2,500° F, making enough power that it can destroy a dump truck with one punch.’ Another breacher that helps Thermite.
Simisage - For balance. His Infernape felt some sort of rivalry with this guy, but they kinda mellowed out after a big match of throwing-everything-around-them.
(Ash: Jordan, Jesus- Jordan! Your monkeys are at it again! Stop- stop them!
Pulse: Give them some PokeBalls! It will get them to catch each other.
Castle: That’s not how it works but I would like to see what happens.)
Fearow - From his pilot father. It was an offspring of her father’s Fearow, and they’ve been together ever since. Judging by how Pulse followed his mother’s last name, I wonder if his parents divorced so this Fearow is a connection to his father (who he later becomes fascinated with muscle cars and the sheer speed.) Pulse also used to have Fearow as his means to travel whenever he wanted to pursue something exciting his his life, somewhere outside of the military town.
Beheeyem ★ - Pulse’s interest in space and alien-life forms led him to hear about weird and bright lights at the Celestial Tower. At first he thought those lights were from a bunch of ghost Pokemons, as the tower is known to be a burial place, but he had to venture down with his Fearow and try. When he found the area to be full of Elgyems, he wondered why. Why would a Pokemon known to have be related with UFOs make home at a graveyard? He saw one Elgyem watching a person kneeling next to a tombstone. Its hands were shimmering with lights, even brighter when the person was mumbling something very personal and sentimental to his supposedly deceased Pokemon. Was it observing? Studying human emotions? Feeling quite intrigued, Pulse approached the Pokemon quite carefully. But the Elgyem was beyond startled and started to attack him and Fearow, so they had to battle and he captured it. As they grew close together, Pulse became aware of his own strength in finding what other people and Pokemon wants, and how this Elgyem wanted to learn such art. When it evolved into Beheeyem, Pulse learned that Beheyeems ‘-can manipulate an opponent’s memory. Apparently it communicates by flashing its three different-colored fingers,’ so they worked on how to communicate to each other by colour codes. Red means negative, green is positive and yellow is ‘ask me a different question.’ Beheyeem’s ability came in handy when Pulse worked for crisis management and negotiation tactics.
Starmie - Another interest in alien-life forms, because Staryu’s PokeDex entries were fascinating to him. ‘It gathers with others in the night and makes its red core glow on and off with the twinkling stars. It can regenerate limbs if they are severed from its body,’ and ‘at night, the middle of its body slowly flickers with the same rhythm as a human heartbeat.’ As someone who excelled in studying biology and chemistry, Pulse caught one for an intense study. When also looked into the entry for Starmie, it also mentioned ‘it is said that it uses the seven-colored core of its body to send electric waves into outer space.’ What a Pokemon! Everything about it hit high points in what Pulse always wanted to know. Hence they came to be, and Starmie often seemed to communicate with his Beheeyem on a higher level.
Orbeetle - The entry says, ‘it emits psychic energy to observe and study what’s around it—and what’s around it can include things over six miles away.’ The Orbeetle was the last piece of puzzle for Pulse when he was developing his Heartbeat Sensor. He then got some of the series patented.
Yanmega - Speedy combat style and surveillance with its eyes that can see many things at once.
Steelix - For party balance. Pulse isn’t too fond of this Pokemon as it reminded his mother’s cold and hardy attitude, but as soon as he learned about its brave and gung-ho like personality, he warmed up to it.
Ursaring ★ - Whenever Castle’s family baked sweet potato pies at home and left them by the window sill to cool, some of them were toppled over onto the ground. Young Castle picked them up to find a single paw mark as if something was only interested in ruining the filling than the pastry. So his parents began to put it inside and close the window, and what do they find the next time? A lone Teddiursa that broke into their home, happily soaking its paw to leave an ever-lasting sweet potato pie flavour rather than honey (’PokeDex entry says, ‘ It lets honey soak into its paws so it can lick them all the time. Every set of paws tastes unique.’) Castle managed to battle it with his mother’s Pokemon and caught. Ever since then, the two were inserperable. Young Castle’s casual walk became an exploation through the forest, for the Teddiursa wanted to find more sweets and treats. When it evolved into Ursaring, the big bear often took a stroll on its own to find berries for Castle and the family, as means of gratitude. (Also it influenced on Castle’s papa bear attribute.)
Torterra - When Castle and Teddiursa were in the forest, they met a lone Turtwig that was weak due to dehydration. Knowing that he should pour some water on its dry back made out of soil, Castle didn’t need to capture it. He simply adopted and haven’t registered it into his Pokeball until it became too big to stay at his house. When it was a Grotle, the Teddiursa used to have a nap on its back. Now as Ursaring and Torterra, the Ursaring seems to be quite eager on planting a berry tree on its back but the Torterra haven’t allowed it yet to do so.
Stoutland - Out of all the dogs that Castle rescued, there was one Lillipup that couldn’t quite stand on its own. He nurtured it to health, the Pokemon never left his side and hence they became best of friends.
Snorlax - A wall against physical attacks with the move ‘Curse’ that raises it’s attack and defense by one (but lowers speed by one as well.) Hard to defeat, serves as Castle’s barricade during battle.
Cryogonal - A wall against special attacks. It also sweeps the enemies’ ground set ups like ‘Spikes’ and ‘Stealth Stones.’
Gengar - For type balance and special attacker because Castle’s team is physical attack orientated.
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All my troubles on the burning pile | Tomas Shelby
warning! I don’t know all that much about the show, I’ve seen a total of 1 season so if anything is wrong please just ignore it for the sake of the fic
this also takes place before the events of the show, like significantly before. Also Tommy is probably ooc but idk i like it
Also if (Y/n) is annoying at some points just please keep in mind that during some parts she’s literally a six year old
Small Heath remembered the day the men got sent away for war vividly. Boys were swept away from their families arms far too young, Fathers were dragged away from their children, and lovers were ripped away from each other some old and some young. It's hard to forget a day like that. But that is only increased when a roaring fire illuminated for what seemed to be miles from the old field where it originated. Some would tell you it seemed like hellfire, nothing but retaliation from a stupid teenager who felt too much and didn't have enough discipline. Others would tell you it was a heartbreaking scene, a pitiful display of how everyone felt to some capacity. But only (Y/n) would be able to tell you how it really was, an explosion of too much yet not enough. Like being in a limbo where nothing feels real but the consequences do.
She remembered her friends telling her to go as it looked dreadful but she told them to simply get lost if they didn't like it, then telling her youngest brother to just go home and tell mum that she'll be back soon. Then as pitch black settled in the sky, she remembers Ada Shelby approaching her, the fire building in intensity and height, and simply pulling her close. Hugging her. And (Y/n) broke. All the rage bubbling up became still and transformed to immense despair, tying her insides into knots and clouding everything. She felt cold despite the building heat of the flames that danced in the air.
Ada rubbed circles in the older girls skin, soothing her slightly. Ada already missed her brothers dearly and couldn't imagine how (Y/n) was feeling. With the idea of marriage going from a realistic event to something that couldn't even be guaranteed, (Y/n) was going to have a few rough years ahead of her if she carried on the way she was.
"Always the firebug, eh?" The nickname easily slipped out the younger girl's mouth. (Y/n)'s mouth slightly uplifted at the familiar nickname. (Y/n) had known the Shelby family ever since she was young with her being the same age as Tommy and seemingly clinging to the boy like glue it was inevitable she would grow attached to the rest of the family like they did to her in return. However, that doesn't mean that they were exempt from the surprise that was her impromptu fire starting but after knowing (Y/n) for a while to became easy for them to guess when a fire was upon them. And because of this, the nickname of firebug seemed to be obvious.
The Shelby family remembers the day that (Y/n) started her first fire in the abandoned field. She was no older 6. Having grabbed a hold of a lighter from god knows where and gathering as many sticks as she could and setting them aflame. However, it also turns out that children don't know a lot about how lighters or how fast a fire can spread. So, (Y/n) accidently sprung the lighter to life again and burned her hand, dropping the lighter and setting the dead grass alight a long with it. And while (Y/n) couldn't stop the screams that escaped her she also couldn't stop the excitement she felt from seeing the flames lick at the ground. And coincidently, Tommy had gone looking for the girl as she had been gone for around an hour which wouldn't have been strange for other people their age, but (Y/n) wasn't normal. She practically wouldn't leave him be until the sunset and they were called to their respective houses, so her sudden absence was a little worrying for the young boy. And he ran as fast he could once he heard the familiar shriek he had grown to know in the short time he had known her.
There she was, the lighter on the burning floor as she backed away from the flames that seemed to follow her until she bumped into someone. She was startled and feared being in trouble so she quickly turned around and seemed relived to find Tommy, her new best friend. She quickly hugged the shorter boy, "My hero! It's too bad I'm taller then you." Tommy rolled his eyes, "What is that!?" He nodded at the fire.
Despite her previous comment, (Y/n) suddenly felt quite small. The fear of losing her new friend gripped at her, making her small limbs lock up. "It doesn't matter ok! It's alwayyys rainy so it will be gone soon anyway, so stop being stupid." (Y/n) suddenly became defensive, gripping her burned hand but stopping once she remembered how much it hurt. And suddenly, (Y/n) began to cry as she realized it may not rain and she will in fact get in trouble and damn did her hand hurt. Tommy became alarmed at her sudden tears, and noticed her hand. "You don't need to cry! Can't your mum just help your hand." "But Tommy! What if it doesn't rain." Tommy was now confused he didn't see what the rain had to do with the burn on her hand.
But that didn't matter either, as with seeming perfect timing, it began to rain. Heavily. This relieved the girl, seeming to not care about her injury anymore. Tommy however, did still care and insisted on walking her to her house despite his house being on the other end of the street. This then lead to (Y/n) having a bandage on her hand and Tommy having a cold for a week. It was then that the Shelby's and (L/n)'s knew it wouldn't be the last time something like that happened.
One incident that not everyone knew about was yet another fire that was caused by (Y/n) at around 15. She had once again decided she wanted fire but this time Tommy was by her side, holding a box of broken items. Some of them belonging to the pair some it being something neither of them seemed to fully recognize. "You can't keep at this you know, someone will catch you one day and doubt they will forgive you so easily." Tommy said, his voice even, he wasn't mad at her. He just knew of what may happen if she is caught by someone other then him or his brothers. (Y/n) nodded as the fire sprung to life, and gestured for Tommy to throw the box in. Wordlessly, Tommy threw it in.
However, due to the density of some of the times, not everything in the box was catching fire. So carefully, Tommy began to kick the box trying to make it catch. But he didn't seem to see that it worked and that the flames were growing. (Y/n) panicking, pulled Tommy back and watched as the fire grew right where he was previously. Tommy looked down at her in gratitude as she looked away, as although she would never say it aloud she had been harboring feelings for Tommy for some time now. And before she could say anything, Tommy said, "My hero! too bad I'm taller then you." A grin tugging at his lips as he saw (Y/n) begin to laugh in disbelief at the vaguely familiar statement. "Thomas Shelby! you tosser." She gently pushed him, laughing lightly.
"Well there goes all my troubles on the burning pile." (Y/n) said smiling, as Tommy wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tugging her body towards his. "And if you catch fire?" Tommy asked, despite the statement being extremely hypocritical from him because of what had just had happened. "Then I'll change my aim and throw my woes at the world instead." (Y/n) said gazing into the flames in front of her. "I wouldn't expect anything less." Silence followed Tommy's statement. It was comforting, as the cool summers evening began to start its slow conclusion, the warmth of the fire fought any possible cold breeze and the two teenagers stayed close and unaware the other was trying to ignore their feelings.
However, it seems that their feelings were too much to simply move aside as that very night the pair confessed, much to their friends and families' relief.
(Y/n) was pulled out of her reminiscent daze when Ada asked, "What are you burning?" "My troubles." Ada seemed to understand the vague statement. "I assume soon you'll be burning letters that "aren't quite right" soon?" Ada asked a light teasing tone in her voice in a hope to lighten the mood. It seemed to work as (Y/n) replied, "And you expected anything less?" Ada lightly shook her head as she smiled at the woman she'd grown to see as a sister. "He'll be back one day (Y/n)" "Well I sure hope so the tosser still has to make me his wife."
The two young women laughed, still worried for the future but feeling better then they did before.
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The guard tower 1 /2
(Daryl Dixon x reader oneshot )
yes it´s part 1 of 2. goddamit, I will not name it twoshot, that´s stupid...
so this was a request. Hope you like it my friend :)
#20 - “Calm down, you´re scaring me”
so you have feelings, arguments, swearing, a bit fluff, a bit mindporn (mentioned), and a night at the watchtower of the prison ;)
It’s a quiet night.
The silver light of the full moon bathes the area around the prison in a fairytale landscape, whose idyllic impression is only disturbed by a handful of walkers. You rest your elbows on the railing and your head on your hands and sigh for a moment.
You let the crystal clear sky of this full moon night take its effect on you and feels how she relaxes more and more.
It’s the little things you have learned to enjoy after this world has gone down the drain. To wake up rested in the morning, to eat something warm, the feeling of safety that being close to Daryl gives you.
You puff up annoyed at the thought and rises. Your hands grab the shotgun that’s leaning against the railing in front of you. The problem with this is that the closeness to your boyfriend has been decreasing for a few weeks now. He hasn’t even spoken to you for a few days.
He avoids you completely whenever possible. As he is doing tonight again.
Rick had you both assigned to the watch. But he’s not here. You´re alone in the watchtower and the bitter feeling of disappointment is spreading through you. Your shift had begun for over two hours, and yet you stand here alone.
All of a sudden, the harmonious chirping of the crickets and the distant moaning of the walkers are mixed with the sound of heavy boats on metal.
You have to grin, as you don’t take your eyes off the bright full moon. In the meantime, you recognize people by the sound of their steps. You glance at your watch for a moment and then shake your head in disbelief, even though you feel some relief.
“Good night, Mr Dixon. You’re a little late. Did you get lost? ” you ask in a sweet voice, and without further ado take the shotgun to watch the few walkers roaming the area. You would have loved to shoot every damn one of them, but munition is a precious resource and must not be wasted. Moreover, the shot would probably have attracted others.
Daryl only hums up as he passes close behind you.
You shrug as his lips are touching your neck softly and his hot breath brushes your skin with a sudden surprise. When you then feel cold drops of water on your skin, you freeze for a moment.
You put the gun down again and look in disbelief at Daryl, who is standing next to you by now and is highly concentrated to get an overview of the area.
As if you´re not there.
As if you had only imagined that tender kiss.
You clear your throat extra loudly to get his attention, but he doesn’t react. That kiss was already more than you had expected. But now he’s completely shutting you out like he did the last few days.
“You…took a shower?” you ask stumbling and watch him closely. Every millimetre of his perfect profile. His gaze goes stubbornly straight ahead while he puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. The yellowish light of the flame from the lighter forms a harmonious contrast to the cold moonlight. He seems lost in his thoughts as he pushes the cigarette aside with his tongue at the corner of his mouth and his eyebrows contract for a moment.
“So what? So are you too, right?” he mumbles and looks out of the corner of his eye at your still-wet hair. He takes a deep puff from his cigarette and leans his upper body on the railing without looking directly at you.
You laugh shortly and bite your lower lip hard not to give him a pissy answer now.
Probably only meaningless gibberish would have come out of your mouth anyway because, on the one hand, you´re just so upset that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish a sentence. On the other hand, just looking at him make you lose your mind. The cigarette in the corner of his mouth in combination with the wet hair hanging heavily on his face seems to put your brain into standby mode for a moment.
You rub your forehead, clear your throat in a quiet voice and approach him carefully. His eyes follow every move you make as he picks up the cigarette and looks at you as if you want to throw him over the railing at any moment.
“Well, I mean…we could´ve saved water and…um…showered together… maybe?” you say slowly in a low voice as you play lost in thought at the collar of his shirt and place a tender kiss on his neck, whereupon he jerks a little. You know exactly what this kisses triggers in him. At least before he started ignoring you.
Daryl closes his eyes for a moment and holds his breath. His mind starts to release the images directly to these words and he breathes slowly through his nose because he wants to keep his self-control by all means. Without moving, his gaze goes down to you.
He raises one eyebrow and snorts. He quickly turns his gaze away from you and after another puff on his cigarette, he carelessly throws it down the tower. As if in slow motion, the burning glowing ash falls towards the ground, until it finally lands in the damp grass and increasingly loses its luminosity.
“too many people…” he mumbles and slowly bends down to you to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. As if he wanted to break up the situation as quickly as possible and get away from you.
“Seriously? Too many people? in the showers? at that time? I get it…and tomorrow Saturn’s in the house of the sun and that’s not a good time, is it?” You are puffing away in frustration. That’s the excuse he’s been using over and over for the past few weeks. Whenever you tried to get close to him, he kept pushing you away. Either the last run was too exhausting, or too many people still in the cell blocks, or Rick had suddenly needed his help.
There was always something.
“Hey, come on, love. What’s wrong?” Gently you stroke his beard with your fingers and Daryl just turns his gaze away from you, rolling his eyes. Over and over, he’d stop you from getting too close. You wonder why he hadn’t switched shifts and why you aren't standing up here with Maggie or Carol.
“I miss you,” you sigh, your hands now resting gently on his face. Carefully you kiss him on the corner of his mouth and wait a moment. As he doesn’t move back and closes his eyes, you ghostly wander your palm from his face to his chest as you continue to place kisses on his now goose-bumped skin towards his neck.
You gently press your lips against the area just below one earlobe as he shivers beneath your kiss. With every kiss that goes down in a painful slow way, his breath increases unintentionally. Without him wanting it, he lies his hands on your hip and holds you in place.
Small, torturous beads of sweat seem to form all over his body, while an unbearable heat spreads out under every touch, under your hands, slowly opening the buttons on his shirt. Just everywhere where your lips meet his skin far too soft; his cheek, his lips, his neck. His whole body seems to burn. When your lips finally trace the line of his collarbone and you stroke with the tip of your tongue over the small dent below his neck, you can hear a deep humming in his throat.
But at the same time, you feel his grip loosening and he's pushing away from you all too fast for your taste.
“Stop…Now!” he says panting and stands without moving in front of you . You try to find the reason for this reaction in his gaze, but he has still his eyes closed. He puts his forehead tight on yours, then kisses you lightly on the temple to turn away from you.
“No please don’t, Daryl!” you beg him and hold him by his leather jacket. Only for a second, your eyes meet, before he forces his gaze back towards the ground and roughly releases his jacket from your grip.
He holds onto the railing with his hands and looks stubbornly forward, panting. His grip around the metal is so tight that every muscle in his upper body is under tension.
“Daryl, what’s wrong? What did I do, that made you push me away like that? ” you ask worried and carefully stroke his bare shoulder as tears of desperation form in your eyes.
You don’t know what to do. Daryl has always been shy and reserved. At first, you doubted if he even noticed you. But as time went on, he’d grown closer to you bit by bit. You have never been the couple that sat wildly kissing in front of the others or dancing across the grounds holding hands.
And over time you discovered that he is one of the most loving and caring men you have ever met. Just like that tender kiss on the neck earlier, only that exactly those loving gestures you love so much, and with which he shows you his feelings for you are now reduced to a minimum.
“Dammit, just leave me alone, woman!” he yells at you suddenly and leans forward while lowering his head and placing it on his arms. If only you could leave him alone for just a moment. His concentration and self-control are on the edge and he sighs up panting.
His hands are trembling and clench into fists again and again, as You just stare at him stunned. Anger boils up in you, because with what reason does he hit you from the side like that? What have you done to him that he had to treat you like shit?
“Calm down, you’re scaring me! For fuck’s sake! ” you scream back in anger and cross your arms in front of your chest.
“If you have a problem with me, tell me. If you want me to leave, tell me. If I have to find my own cell, then TELL ME. But don´t treat me like shit, Mister! ” with every word you continue walking towards him, hoping that he will at least look at you.
When he finally raises his eyes, his gaze falls accidentally onto you décolleté, and he licks his lips unconsciously.
“ What the…? Are you serious now? Could you please decide what you want?” you ask angrily and throw your arms up in the air, confused. Of course, you had noticed his look, and when your angry gaze hits him, he curses quietly, turns away from your attractive body again and nervously chews the inside of his cheek. His pulse goes too fast and the sweat is now standing on his forehead. Cursing, he grabs his head with both hands and puts it back on the railing.
“Listen. I don’t understand why you’re shutting yourself off from me, but I know you well enough to know that at this moment you want to tear my clothes off. Damn it, what’s stopping you?” you curse and it doesn’t make it better that you're angry. He knows exactly where it can lead when you're angry and by God, that's exactly what he wants.
Preferably right now and all night long. He hadn’t touched you for too long. Even though you lie half-naked next to him every night and only a piece of cloth keeps your bodies apart.
He wants to feel you, taste you, hold you , sink into you and enjoy the electric feeling of pumping deep into you again and again while you moan his name hoarsely and drill your fingernails hot into his scalp.
Heat spreads in waves through his body and he feels the pressure on his crotch. With trembling breath, he tries to repress these thoughts as fast as possible and grabs his hair cursingly.
“What’s wrong with you, dear? Please, I just want to understand” Even if there are frustration and anger in your voice, your touch on his hand is as gentle and understanding as ever, so that his grip loosens unwillingly. Carefully you grab his hand and make him raise himself. He can do nothing about it as you push his arm to the side and squeeze yourself between him and the railing of the watchtower. Your arms slowly wrap around him, and you close your eyes for a moment as his warmth covers you , and you feel his closeness for the first time in a while. Sighing, you lay your head on his chest and can feel his heart beating much too fast. Your embrace becomes tighter for a short moment, but he doesn’t return it at all. He stands before you as if rooted to the spot.
Slowly you lift yourself and gently push his head up with your fingers so that he is forced to look at you . All the anger and frustration is gone when you realize that his gaze literally begs you to apologize.
“Hey. Please don’t lock me out of this” you whisper begging and tap on his chest with tears in your eyes. Gently you stroke his temple with your thumb while you give him the sweetest smile.
“I…It’s…You know what can happen…What mustn’t happen…” he stutters unsure and prepares to get mocked by you . Daryl presses his lips firmly together for a moment and lowers his gaze again.
You wouldn’t understand, how could you ?
But you don’t make fun of him. He feels your fingers soft on his chin, which brings his gaze back up and directs his focus back to your face. Nothing helps, even if he closes his eyes , it's your presence, your smell, the sound of your voice alone causes to drive him crazy. Avoiding you is the only way to prevent this.
“Okay. So there’s the crux of the matter…" Your gaze is soft and he just nods. While you push his hair out of his face with a gentle smile, you curse yourself at the same time. Because as you think about it further, you realize that you should have known.
In this post-apocalyptic time, there are not many ways to avoid pregnancy for sure. And he only seems to see this way, which after weeks of abstinence is obviously becoming difficult and troubles you both.
You have been in agreement from the beginning that, unlike Maggie and Glenn, you will approach this issue with more sober minds and will not take more risks than necessary. In the beginning he could still find condoms on his runs, but in the meantime there are simply none to be found. As a result he has become more and more paranoid.
The whole thing finally resulted in him avoiding any contact and finally turning away from it completely. Even if you only lay in bed to sleep and wanted to cuddle up to him, he turned away from you . If you didn’t kiss and hug him from time to time, you probably wouldn’t have any physical contact at all.
Up to some point, you also have an understanding of it. For his reaction, for his fear, for his rejection. The last thing you want is to have to fight those damn walkers with a baby in your arms or, at worst, end up like Lori. But unlike you , he has completely stepped into this fear.
You still fix his gaze as you slowly put your hands around his neck and pull him towards you . His whole posture, just everything about him is tense and he doesn’t give in at all.
"Hey, it’s ok…” you whisper and push him gently towards you as you stroke his shoulders with one hand. It takes what feels like an eternity until he finally relaxes a little and puts his head on your shoulder. His hands tremble slightly as they slowly wrap around your upper body and he keeps breathing out pressed.
“You know that there are other ways to have fun?” you whisper grinning into his ear and feel him pushing a bit away from you . The tips of your noses touch and he seems to be searching for something in your gaze. Every breath that touches his skin feels like an explosion.
“so…other… ways?” his voice trembles a bit and he exhales gasping as he feels your hand on his thigh, moving further and further across the rough fabric of the jeans. Your palm rests on his visible bulge while you lean your head against his. His whole body trembles as your tongue passes over his earlobe and you gently suck on it.
“You should definitely learn to trust me, Mr Dixon…” you say in a low voice and smile as your lips touch gently.
Part 2 -->
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Let me down pt.3
Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Reader (platonically), Reader x oc
Warnings: I mean, in my eyes this is pure fluff, but who knows if it will hurt you
Summary: Peter and May have dinner with Y/N’s family, prompting a lot of questions to get an answer.
A/N: oKAY, I know that what happened wasn’t exactly what you expected and and it has taken me so long to write this but it's finally here. I want to thank you all, I never meant for this blow up like it did or to even become a series, honestly when I wrote the first part I was just in a really bad mood and I felt like writing something sad and that came out, but then people started to ask for a second part and well the rest is history. So yeah, I actually want to write even more parts to this so let me know if you would like it. Also, I tagged everyone who asked me to write more to this, but let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist
part one part two
Peter couldn't help but feel like his head was spinning as he walked back home from the metro that night. Claire had sat him down in her bed for almost an hour showing off all of her Avengers stuff. She had a replica of Thor's Mjolnir (and she knew how to pronounce it, which was even more impressing), she had the Spider-Man's Uno she had mentioned (it did make him kind of emotional to see a drawing of him on the package) and she had Iron Man's full suit.
Yeah, he did his best not to cry with the last one.
Even if she hadn’t ran up to you screaming ‘mommy’, he would’ve known that she was your daughter. Claire had your hair, your eyes, your nose, even when the rest of her tiny face was more like Mark’s. The corners of her eyes wrinkled the same way yours did when you smiled and she was as energetic as you, she got lost in her own thoughts just like her you used to do.
He had been counting the seconds to be out of your house and be able to break down on the guardianship of his loneliness, but when he found himself walking down the street after dinner... he just didn't.
Peter had gone to school that day being sure that as soon as he saw you, something would be okay, and even if it hadn't gone according to the plan, he hadn't been wrong. Something was okay: you were okay. You had a career, a good job, a loving husband, a perfect daughter, a beautiful family.
You had a great life and, most importantly, you were willing to welcome him in it, so yeah, maybe things were going to be okay.
So when Claire asked him to dinner with them again at the end of the week, and you said you wanted to say hi to May, he just couldn't refuse. That's how he ended up standing in front of your house again, with May by his side this time, holding a cherry pie they had placed and decorated on a plate as if to pretend they hadn't bought it from the grocery store.
As soon as the door opened, Peter handed the dessert to May, because he was prepared for the moment Claire jumped to his arms to greet him. You smiled openly at May, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes at the sight of the woman who had given you a place to call home everytime you felt like your own house was not it.
Both Peter and Mark noticed how you tried to keep your composure when her arms wrapped you in a warm embrace.
"Sorry, I'm a mess," you muttered in apology, trying to wipe your eyes without messing up your mascara.
"You look beautiful," May corrected, making your eyes wet all over again. "It smells amazing," she said suddenly, changing the subject to give you a chance to calm down, "what are you cooking?"
"Oh, I'm not cooking," you clarified rushing them inside, Peter still carrying the little girl in his arms, "Mark is. I somehow manage to burn the water."
"You could always make PB and jelly sandwiches," Peter said with an amused smile, earning a fond laugh from your lips, as if you shared an inside joke.
Only when Mark received the pie from May's hands did Peter notice that he was wearing a purple apron over his white unbuttoned shirt, and he couldn't help the sting in his heart at how perfect he was. He kindly apologized at the fact that the meat still needed a few more minutes on the oven, because he had been held back a little longer than expected at the office.
"What's that smell?" You asked, frowning.
"Daddy, the aspargaroos!" Claire exclaimed instantly, clearly unaware of how to pronounce asparagus, as she wiggled to let Peter know she wanted to be back on the ground. The tiny human ran behind her father into the kitchen, ready to do the damage control.
You decided to grab a bottle of white wine (and another Capri Sun for Peter) while her husband and daughter tried to resolve the asparagus crisis. He tried to pay attention to the conversation the two women in front of him were maintaining, but it was like they were talking in some foreign, alien, grown up language he couldn't understand.
This time, you took a little longer to finish your glass of wine than the last bottle you had opened, which had been a week ago when Peter had showed up in your doorstep. You were trying your best to hide your excitement talking to May, but you couldn't help the profound feeling of pride that took over your chest when you saw her eyes glimmer with amazement as they explored around the living room, where the pictures and prices of all of your family's accomplishments were displayed.
Peter was the first to notice Mark come out of the kitchen with a sheepish smile, "alright, so, the asparagus isn't salvageable, er, how do you feel about KFC salad?"
That's how they found themselves sitting at the round dinner table eating steak with a mushroom sauce Claired had been the one to think about, roasted potatoes and KFC salad, because apparently the always ordered some extra salad on their takeaways and stuffed them in the fridge.
"So..." May started, eyeing the young couple nervously. "There is so much to talk about. How... you... well..."
"How did I end married and with a kid at twenty three?" You finished for her, saving a sigh to yourself although you felt your husband tense a little beside you. The more you two heard that question, the more annoying it got, even when you knew May didn't mean to offend you.
Of course you knew you were young, and that many people your age couldn't handle such commitments, you didn't need people telling you that constantly. You had heard the same discourse from teachers, employers, even neighbors you had never talked to, it quickly got old and you tried not to become aggressive everytime you heard it.
Mark and you had a happy, healthy marriage, with a wonderful daughter that had brought light into a world as dark as yours was since the blip. You had good jobs that allowed you to have a stable economy and also take care of your family. You were happy, what else mattered? If you wanted opinions or needed help, you would certainly ask for it.
You never once had.
Still, you responded kindly, "well, we met in college, Princeton," you mentioned, earning two proud looks from your guests. "We were in different programs, so we met specifically through a praying group."
"That had never really been my thing," Mark picked up, "praying and all that God related talk bored me, but most of family and friends had been blipped... I was lonely. So I thought maybe I should give it a try."
"I honestly thought he had gone for the food, because when the meeting was over he looked like he hadn't understood a single word."
"Because I hadn't."
"A friend and I decided to come and talk to him, but after she left we hung out a little longer," you tried to hide the cheesy smile that took over your lips, but you looked over at Mark, who hasn't trying to hid his, and couldn't. "I don't know how to explain it, something about that moment just felt" you shrugged shyly "right."
The memories of you staying on the library, hiding behind the stacks of books so that no one would notice you trying to stay inside after it closed and talking the whole night long never failed to raise goosebumps along your skin. He would offer to read for you when your eyes got tired of working with the dim light that entered through the window, even when he was a law major and didn't understand a single word on the neuroscience and robotic books you were always studying.
It was soon after getting to know him, you just knew Mark had been made for you. There was something in the way you could see in his eyes that crowds freaked him out and that he tried not to cry after talking to his mom in the phone, something in the way he understood your whimpers in the days where anything above a mutter was just too much, that you knew this awkwardly tall curious guy was meant to cross your path.
"Things moved pretty fast after that," you continued, hoping you hadn't zoomed out for too long, "like 'we got married eight months after' fast."
May did her best to hide her surprise, while Peter choked on the salad. Was listening to your loving tone as you told the story easy? No, not at all. He wanted to throw up. Peter was still hopelessly in love with you, even when you were now five years older, even when you had a husband and a child, even when it was ridiculous and impossible, because for him it hadn't been years, it just had been months.
"Claire came soon after that," Mark concluded after pouring some more juice on Peter's glass and asking him if he was okay. "And all of this happened throughout college?"
"We had a really good support system," he nodded, smiling down at Claire, who had made a mess over her chicken sandwich. "A really good amount of friends willing to babysit whenever we had to work, understanding teachers who let us bring Claire to our lectures. My mom and Y/N's parents were also a great help."
"We were both on scholarships that gave us some allowances to support ourselves each month, too," you added. "It wasn't much, but it helped."
"And what are you working on now?" May switched to a conversation that would probably be easier on her nephew.
"Well, Mark is an associate on a buffet in Manhattan," you said grabbing your husband's hand. "What's your approach?" Peter asked, somewhat genuinely curious.
"Environmental law," he replied proudly.
"Mommy builds robot limbs!" Claire exclaimed excitedly, prompting a laugh on the others.
"Before I graduated, I got a job as lab assistant on a research for neuro prosthetics," you explained, "and after graduating, they hired me as researcher. Basically what we're trying to do is to create a non-invasive implant we can connect to the brain and spinal cord that controls robotic prosthetics for people who have lost limbs or return movement to paralyzed body sections."
Peter's skin prickled at the description of the research, for it was one he had known before it all went crumbling down. A memory flashed through his eyes, Tony helping his friend walk after he had been injured in Germany, on his first mission.
"A Stark Industries' research, yes," you nodded solemnly.
"Y/N told me you had an internship with Tony Stark before... it all happened," Mark commented carefully. Peter's head practically snapped in his direction, then, more subtly, in yours. You shook head slightly, almost imperceptibly, but clearly enough to let Peter know you hadn't told his secret.
"You met Tony Stark?" Claire asked him with a bright light in her eyes, one that Peter had seen thousands of times on other kids that, very much like himself, dreamt every night of robots and technologies that could change the world.
"How was he?"
Peter thought for a few seconds about his answer. What was Tony Stark? He was charming, sure, but he wasn't exactly friendly. He was a genius, yet he had never let that cloud his judgement. He had trouble expressing himself, but he always made sure the people around knew how much they meant to him. Suddenly Peter understood why Shakespeare was always making up words, there were just some things, some people, the english language wasn't extensive enough to describe, so he said the best he could come up with.
"He was the most amazing guy I ever met."
You smiled down at your nearly empty plate, it was impossible to forget how much had mr. Stark meant for Peter. Even when you guys broke up and cut off all communication, you still prayed for him to always be under the wing of his mentor. You couldn’t imagen what it was like for Peter to live in a world where Tony Stark was no longer there to help him walk through life.
Hopefully, you would be able to do that in his absence.
taglist: @eridanuswave @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @lovely-geek @princessdancingonthesunshine @marvel4geeks @hedwigprewett12 @dummiesshort @alyssasanchezz14 @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme
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.bondage - vladimir.
Vladimir was looking. His eyes almost wouldn't budge, yet the questions were aching on his head. Eloise was sitting on top of a big rock, feet rocking back and forth. The girl had some wildflowers on her hands, and she was tangling them around. Ethan was sitting a little further on the floor, not too close to her. They both agreed that they could use some alone time since they became a couple, and Eloise would usually hang out with some of the other boys. She was even making the doctor warm up! He said he found her tolerable, so he called her to fetch some herbs with him. However, what Eloise liked the most was to do some crafting. She always came up with something. Once, she even braided Beliath's hair. He was envious. He was still dumb, of course, but he looked stunning. That was the beginning of the inner doubts his head was creating.
Vladimir found something strange sitting on her bed when she'd asked for a "sheet on top of the bed" for a paper lantern she made for her balcony, and he got the wrong one. It was simple to understand what he saw in the paper, yet he felt the shock and embarrassment creep, making him sit on the bed. When she called, he put it in his pocket and grabbed the right one, rushing outside.
He knew he should just read because, for some reason, he could never lie to her, and she didn't like him sitting idly to give her space. But she was just so cute, and now that he saw the paper, he couldn't stop watching her. He let air slip through his nose in amusement as she walked up to Ethan, who was watching the moon, the little happy bounce on her step he'd grown used to making his smile grow faintly. Ethan facepalms when she puts the flower crown on his head and starts jumping around, making him snort. A noise of someone clearing their throat, however, pulled him out of the funny scene.
"I am sorry. Did I bother you?" Raphael giggles at his question.
"Worry not. I can sense your happiness. It does not match the book you said you were reading just now. Perhaps, you are engrossed in yet another story?"
"I don't like your good perception sometimes." Another small giggle from his friend.
"It does not take much thinking to see your heart. I have never seen anyone on this manor sitting on the desk to look at the window."
Vladimir jumped down, shock written across his face. Raphael laughed this time, going back to his book. He left, saying he wouldn't be able to read. Holding his hot and most likely red cheeks, he stepped up the stairs to his room, not caring about his cane he left on the chair.
He sat on the bed, face flushed. He got rid of the coat and sat there thinking about Eloise. His face was red when he looked at a mirror. Soon enough, she seemed to be looking for him. He could hear the pitter-patter of the shoes, her labored breath, the way her eyes looked for him on the way. Maybe he was overthinking. Eloise was too sweet to do something like this. But maybe? No, just wishful thinking.
"Vlad!" She swung the door open, walking comically with her arms folded in front of her to show strength. He already knew she was going to make one of her "married man" jokes. "Where's my dinner, woman?!"
"Can you not knock?" He asked, smiling at her. She shrugged and closed the door, sitting close to him. "So rude..." He caressed her head with the tips of his fingers, inspecting her hair. When she stared, he averted his gaze, smiling to himself. She giggled, arms circling his neck and smelling his perfume.
"You smell good."
"What is it, baby? Don't like it when I compliment you?"
Ah, there she went, making his legs squirm together again. He had this weak spot for her touch and the things she said.
"I like it. But now I want you to pay attention to what I'm going to ask."
His teeth grazed on her earlobe, biting not long after. Vladimir whispered in her ear, then.
"I want to play with you a little. Consider this a little crafting that I need your help to make. Can I, baby?"
Eloise blinked at his word usage, the pet name lingering in her head.
"I got it from you. So?"
"Yes, of course! I love crafting! What are we going to do? A portrait? Maybe embroidery?"
"Hmm, not quite." The blonde rummaged through the drawers, pulling a big, red rope and a piece of paper. "Let's see... Can you tell me what this is?"
"What is it?" She extended her hands, but Vladimir swiped his own away, showing her the paper instead. Eloise gasped, looked at the sheet, and then him frantically, then she covered her now red face. "How did you find this?!"
"You told me to get paper, but this was on top of what I needed to see... Did you plan this?"
"No! Give that back!"
"Alright." he put the sheet in her hand, "But you could tell me what this is about."
"Hmmm, I like bondage, okay?!" He put a hand on his lips to keep them closed. "And um- I might train on myself because I don't have anyone to do it for me! Is there a problem with that, huh?!"
He chuckled darkly, looming over her smaller figure. "No problem at all, love."
"I know that nickname... Tell me, do you-"
"Like what I hear? Very, very much. It took you long enough to notice what I want. Now stop wasting time and take your clothes off.
"Yes, sir." She started to strip, tossing her dress and lingerie on the bed. Vladimir looked at the paper, then began his task. She was quiet when he tied her hands and made quick work of her wrists and arms. His silence was driving her crazy. She wanted to pounce on him, but at the same time, the excitement of finally having someone tying her up was making her buzz, so she stood still. His hands traveled around, squeezing her hips and pressing a kiss against her lips.
"Are you alright?"
"That is a good pet."
He began to touch her chest, ropes squeezing and settling against her skin, not too much, but not loose either. Her eyes watched him, looking down before he met her gaze. Her boobs popped out, nipples hardening under his not so subtle and unnecessary kneading. Eloise began rubbing her thighs, letting small moans leave her mouth. Vladimir kept working through, securing the ropes on her waist and hips, then passing them through her legs, around her womanhood. He tied the final knot, looking at her form.
"Sir. It's fine already. Can you untie me?"
"Why should I?" He snorted.
"I want to touch you... Please."
"I fear this won't happen, love. Go. Sit on the desk."
Her feet padded on the floor when she sat on the empty top. Vladimir sighed, opening her legs and watching her face intensely.
"Now, stay with your knees in the corner, and don't you dare move." He tied her calves to the table legs. Eloise was motionless, legs open. His eyes watched her figure between the red ropes. Her legs were shaking slightly, her folds wet, but what mattered was her embarrassed face.
"Do you feel bad now?"
"Can't even cover your face... My poor Eloise." She whimpered, shaking herself. "Want me to make you feel good?" She nodded fervently, wiggling her hips ever so slightly. He stepped closer to her, placing himself between her legs. She whimpered a plea, but he just ignored her, unbuttoning his shirt and letting his hair down. She sighed, grinding her core against the table. "Don't you dare keep going, or I'm pulling the whip out. Do you want that?" She stopped, startled.
"No, Sir. Please fuck me. I'll be good."
His cock throbbed. Did Eloise like fucking him this much that she stopped being so bubbly at the smallest threat?
Oh, was he going to give her what she wanted. He sprung free of his pants, reaching for her clit.
"No, sir!" She cried out. "please, do it raw. I'm begging. It hurts."
He couldn't even think for himself before his cock was buried deep within her dripping pussy. Her cry of victory made him begin thrusting fast, feeling how she clamped around him. Her eyes rolled back, tits bouncing between the ropes. His hand shot up, pinching her nipple. She tried her best to wiggle her hips to no use, but her filthy mouth made him snap his hips against her further.
"Yes, sir, please use me!" Her eyes rolled back, red in the face and neck. Vladimir moaned, feeling his neglected dick throbbing inside her. She was so soft, squeezed him so good. He couldn't stop even after he felt the spurts coating her insides. She was curling her toes, and the desk kept slamming against the wall.
"I am not stopping until you are crying, love."
"Please, Vladimir, please!" He growled.
"What was that?!"
"Hmm, "Sir" could be anyone. Only you could fuck me t-this good." She whimpered, throwing her head back and sobbing pitifully. Her legs trembled, her heady moans suddenly came to a halt when he pinched her clit in approval. He knew she was trying to trash around, but the ropes were tied well. His cock was already overstimulated, so all it took was her pussy clenching wildly around him to have him cumming again, hips violently bucking into her, then stilling. He pulled out, fingers now toying with her clit.
"Sir, too much." He chuckled, pants coming out of his lips.
"You have a safe word. I think I said until you are crying. Just a few tears won't do. I am going to use you how you like it."
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Who is the King of Games Chapter 2
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Warnings: References to torture.
Loki had always been good at hiding his fear. He couldn’t show any weakness without Odin comparing him to his brother, and when he’d begun exploring the worlds beyond Asgard, it had been a skill he had fostered to perfection - but the image these beasts pushed into his mind was almost enough to break him.
They’d lied. Of course they had, and he had been so desperate to believe them that he had miscalculated. Why would they leave behind the only valuable leverage in their quest to break him? He’d been so relieved when they had told him that she’d been released that he hadn’t even questioned it, but here she was strung up and struggling, like prey in a trap.
“See… Look at herrrrr…” Those monstrous shadows formed in the corner of the room, but he was already looking at her, how could he look away? How could he ignore the pain and fear jarring her beautiful features?
“Release her. Now!” Venom in his voice, the only evidence of his internal panic. He rose, and the little magic they’d allowed him to keep twisted in his palm. The human girl these gargoyles had employed to feed him whimpered from her spot laying on the floor. Poor thing, it had been too easy to destroy her mind.
“She'ssss ssso angry… Magnificcccent.” He knew from firsthand experience that he couldn’t fight whatever these creatures were. They were made from smoke and shadows and nothing physical could touch them, and when he had tried to probe their minds, he found nothing. He was powerless against them, but for whatever reason they clearly had no desire to hurt him.
“If you do not release her, I will destroy you.” He didn’t feel the need to explain how much he would enjoy it, too. The last thing Loki needed was to give them more leverage, more insight into his emotions.
“But sssshe iss ssssso fun to play with.” The barbarians all spoke in unison, and Loki was beginning to suspect that they were some kind of hive mind. “Anotherrr human mind to explorrrrrre. She hasss ssssuch a rich memory.” His heart began beating fast, his simmering rage turning to panic. They’d entered her mind, they had violated her. He had to get her out of here.
“What did you do to her?” His voice was much quieter, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the image of her form, suspended in air, his mind filling the blanks with horrifying possibilities of what they could have done to her.
“Nothing ssso different from what you did to our sssservant.”
The cowering figure of the human girl moaned from the corner, reduced to nothing more than a shell. Loki felt a wave of nausea work up his esophagus. She’d come earlier and he had enjoyed reaching into her mind and breaking her down. At the time it had felt so satisfying to take his pent-up anger on this girl, especially when he looked inside her and saw nothing but devotion to these horrid beings.
“I did her a favour. This was no life for her to live.”
One of the figures dissolved into a sheet of smoke and lay over the girl, infecting her, seeping into every pore. For a moment nothing happened, but then she choked on her final breath.
“You do not possess a merciful heart.”
If Loki had been more naive he might have thought that they cared about the girl, but from his glimpse into her mind he knew they had viewed her as nothing more than a pawn for their games, a plaything.
“Ssssssee Loki… If you insissst on playing games with usssss… We will play gamessssss with you.”
He couldn’t help but flinch as he watched as his love was thrown violently against the wall. Unconscious from the impact, she fell in a heap on the ground. She looked so small, so fragile, crumpled in a way he had never seen her, a stark contrast from the powerful, bold human he had grown to desire, even to admire.
This is my fault, Loki thought grimmly. They enjoy the pain they cause.
The stone flooring seemed particularly rough as he dropped to his knees, his head bowed, ready to concede.
“Please.” Begging was usually beneath him. “Release her. I will do whatever you want, but please let her go.”
At first, the smoke monsters said nothing, the silence dragging on slightly too long only to be broken by raucous laughter. He kept his head down, but his cheeks burned at the insult. Loki couldn’t risk a glare or a snarky comment, not when her life and her mind were at stake.
“We will releassse her, if we can play three games firsssssst.”
“What kind of games?”
“You will have to play to find out.” The monstrosities were taking their time, really enjoying seeing Loki on his knees pleading for the life of an insignificant human, despite her interesting powers.
“If I win,” Loki was choosing his words carefully. He was no novice at this kind of bargaining, and he wanted to make sure not to leave any loopholes. “You will release us both. Immediately.”
Clucking, the monsters looked at each other, before nodding, hideous grins on their noncorporeal faces. “Yesssssssssss. That is acccceptable. And if we win… You must relinquissssh your title… As God of Mischief and Trickery.”
He hesitated a moment before replying. “What will you do with us if you win?”
“You must be the one to break her.”
The nausea bubbled up again at the thought, but solemnly he agreed. The figure dissolved and Loki collapsed, passing out just before his face hit the stone floor.
Loki awoke in his bed between emerald green silk sheets and two wonderful ladies. One of them slept on, but the other, who had woken some time ago was tracing the contours of his chest with the pad of her finger. When she had noticed her lover had stirred, she smiled brightly and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Last night was… phenomenal.” Long blonde hair was pushed behind her ears, and Loki examined her large blue eyes. “I’d never been with a woman before, but it is a delicacy I am eager to enjoy again.” She chuckled and gestured to their other companion, a shapely red head who snored gently.
Loki smiled. He barely remembered the previous night, he must have drunk too much. Regardless, it wasn’t often he was shared by such lovely company. “Perhaps next time I will be the lucky woman.”
Breakfast was a table laden with all of his favourite foods. He joined his parents in the great hall, sitting between them. His mother greeted him and it filled him with the joy of sunshine, but when his father grinned at him and demanded to know if Loki had enjoyed the ball in his honor the night before, something in his heart twisted sharply. He pushed the feeling away. If his father could finally show appreciation for his son, perhaps it shouldn’t be questioned.
He ate, and when he was satiated he pushed away from the table.
“Where are you going, darling?” Frigga sounded confused. Loki only raised an eyebrow in question. “Have you forgotten, sweet thing? The people have organised a play in your honor. You simply must attend the premiere!”
The play was a rousing success. The casting was spot on, the performance compelling and Loki felt himself almost in tears at some points, sometimes with laughter and sometimes with sadness. It was clear that his subjects adored him.
Why shouldn’t they love and care for me? I work so hard so that they may prosper.
The play focused on all the hardships that Loki had needed to overcome, and had ended with his coronation. After all of the applause and cheers had died down and the audience had begun to filter out, Loki had made a point of approaching the actor that had played the titular role to congratulate him on such an accurate performance.
The actor had gushed at the compliment. “I’m so pleased you enjoyed it, your highness! We were unsure if you would enjoy the part where you were crowned king. It’s hard to act out an event that hasn’t happened yet! Everyone is so excited to see the real thing at the palace tonight!”
Loki had nodded and smiled, but something about the encounter felt off. He was being crowned tonight? Surely he should know that.
He’d retired to his room, hoping to nap away the confusion, but as soon as he made it back he’d found it inhabited by a brunette he was sure he’d never met before. Before he could ask who she was she had sunken to her knees and taken his entire length in her mouth. It was a wonderful distraction from the sense of unease that had begun to build inside him.
Before he knew it, his coronation was soon to begin and his mother had come to collect him from his chambers. They walked in silence as Loki gained the courage to address his concerns.
“Loki, you’re not nervous are you? You needn't be, you’ve been preparing your whole life to be king.”
I have? He thought.
“I know your father’s parties have been a little… overzealous, but he is so excited to pass on the mantle to you. I have been begging him to rest for years.” She laughed, a delicate sound, like glass bells. “Besides, he is just trying to spoil his favourite son.”
“I know it’s a little extraneous to call you that, you’re his only son, but-”
“But what of Thor?” Loki had been so quick to ask, he hadn’t even noticed that Frigga had replied to his unspoken thought.
“Thor?” She cocked her head to one side questioningly. “Who is Thor?”
He tried to hold onto something that would stabilise his mind but everything seemed so perfect. Why was he even questioning these events? Who is Thor?
The coronation had gone smoothly. Loki’s crown rested on his head like it had always belonged there and once he had managed to shake the hand of every person who approached him, he made it into the banquet hall for the after party.
Odin pounded Loki on the back. “I’ve never been so proud!” He was glad he had ignored his worries. It was a lot of fun to see how appreciated he was. The party was chaos, filled with laughter and drinking and merriment, and everyone was singing his praises. Loki was just throwing back his… ninth drink, when he noticed someone in the corner of the room.
Everything seemed to slow as he approached her. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, her long glossy hair and flowing dress only accentuating her figure.
“Have we met before?” He was certain that he knew her, and the breathtaking smile that greeted him only acted to further convince him of that. It was like he’d stared at that smile a million times, and it filled him with a sense of calm.
“I think I would have remembered being acquainted with a member of the royal family.” She chuckled, and the sound seemed to resonate in Loki’s chest. Maybe… he was wrong? Maybe they’d never met, but he knew that he needed to know her now.
So they danced all night. His mother had organised a queue of eligible people to dance with him, but he didn’t even look at them, spending tune after tune with her in his arms. She was wonderful: smart and funny and ethereal in her beauty; and with every moment he fell deeper in love, he was faced with more and more doubt. He was not sure how, but he already knew her, and yet she insisted that they had never met before. Perhaps it was like people said, when you found someone special it can feel like you’ve known them forever. He tried to push it from his mind, but the more he considered it, the more everything felt surreal and uncanny. Why couldn’t he remember anything from the previous night? From the previous week? Anything from before this morning? And Thor? Where was Thor?
It wasn’t until she laughed at a joke he’d made when it clicked.
“You’re supposed to hate me when we first meet.”
Confusion crossed her beautiful face, and Loki regretted marring those features.
“Why would I hate you?” They’d stopped dancing now, standing in the middle of the floor while everyone moved around them. It was like there were only the two of them in the whole world.
“Because when we met you hated me. It took us months to even become friends. You thought I was arrogant and cynical and I thought you were another boring human I had been forced to deal with.”
Another smile, this one a little uneasy, as she slowly withdrew her arms from around his neck and took a step back. “We have never met before tonight, your majesty.”
Her face was too perfect. There was no spirit behind it, no passion.
“None of this is real.” As soon as he said it out loud the entire room dissolved in black smoke and Loki looked up from the floor where he’d collapsed.
“Silly, sssssilly, ssssilly. You could have lived there forrrrrrever.” The shadow monsters looked at him with intrigue. “An entire world made up of every fantasssy you had ever entertained.”
He’d done it. Loki had won the first game.
He tried to reassure himself that he was glad, but in the back of his mind a tired voice whispered. Forever. I could have lived there forever.
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“ teach me how to kiss? ” elorcan roommate au!
*screams in excitement*
Forever (Is A Long Time) — Elorcan Roommate AU
Lorcan is just dozing off when the front door opens with a crash, closes with another loud bang. He startles upright, blinking away the sleepiness and replacing it with panic; Lorcan catches a glimpse of Elide’s long, brown ponytail as she races down the hallway and disappears into her bedroom.
Usually, they just politely ignore each other. Most of their interactions are “pass the coffee” and “the light bill is due,” but something in her urgency makes Lorcan get up and seek her out. Hellas protests his decision immediately with a yowl as he gets displaced. The cat may or may not have curled up in his lap without Lorcan’s consent.
“Where’s the fucking fire?” Lorcan calls as he reaches her doorway. He’s not expecting to find Elide standing in a nude, modest bra and leggings, and the sight surprises him. The door was ajar. He clears his throat and looks away.
Elide’s eye roll is practically audible. “It’s just a bra. You’ve seen women in way less.”
She’s not wrong, but it also isn’t the same thing. He tells her as much.
“Whatever,” she grumbles. “I don’t have time to argue the semantics of your whoring.”
Lorcan is a little disappointed. Their arguments are some of his favorites, though rare on occasion. Elide never backs down from an opportunity to call him out on his shit, and Lorcan has yet to find her limit on insults to trade. “So, what’s up?”
“Um,” she holds a dress to herself in the full-length mirror in her room. Elide grunts and throws it over her shoulder. She reaches for another. “Well… I’ve got a date.”
“Oh,” Lorcan says lamely. He didn’t know she was dating, and to be honest, Elide didn’t really seem like the kind of girl that went on dates, if that made any sense. “Who’s the guy?”
“A coworker,” she tells him. “This morning, he asked if I was free tonight, and I said yes. Which was stupid, because now I’m totally unprepared.”
“He asked you this morning?” Lorcan blurts out without thinking. Elide, having settled on a dress, shoots him a look as she steps into it.
“What’s wrong with that?” she asks, shimmying into the swath of fabric.
“Uh, nothing,” Lorcan starts, but Elide looks unconvinced. When she rests her hands on her hips, Lorcan caves, “It’s just—the guy waited to the last minute, didn’t he?”
“Is there a timeframe for this kind of thing?” Elide asks. He assumes she’s being sarcastic, but the look in her eyes makes Lorcan realize she isn’t.
He clears his throat as he tries to figure out the nicest way to say it. “Uh, well, it seems like he didn’t put any thought into it—or worse, his other plans fell through, so he used you as a backup.”
Elide’s face falls, and Lorcan feels guilty right away. He’s an asshole; he should’ve just minded his own damn business and let his roommate have her night. Now she’s going to spend the whole evening wondering if the guy she was on a date with was wishing she was someone else.
Then she glares at him coldly enough to set his nerves on end. Lorcan stands up a little taller.
“Are you speaking from experience?” She hisses, and Lorcan knows she won’t like his answer, so he chooses to say nothing. She scoffs, acknowledging the nonanswer for what it is.
“Alright, asshole,” Elide begins, walking up to him and turning her back to him. “Zip me up so we can find out.”
He clears his throat and reaches for her zipper. It’s a weirdly intimate move, and Lorcan tries to recall a time where he’s ever zipped up a woman’s dress for her. He’s usually doing the unzipping.
“There you go,” he says, awkward. Elide takes two steps away from him, doing a little spin.
She asks, “Well, how did I do?”
Lorcan gives her a brief once over. She looks great. Lorcan’s not blind; he’s noticed his roommate is attractive. When he looks her in the eye, one corner of her mouth is quirked to the side in amusement. He plasters on that old, comfortable, sharp grin of his and tells his roommate, “You clean up well Lochan.”
Hellas appears at the coffee table just as Lorcan flops onto the couch with a cup of noodles. His full, yellow eyes watch him sharply. It’s only been a month, but the cat has grown into a healthy young troublemaker. Grown more confident too.
“It’s just you and me tonight, bud,” he tells the feline. The cat tilts his head in acknowledgment.
Those yellow eyes look to Lorcan’s food then to his face, an expectant expression in them. Lorcan glares, “This is my dinner. Your mom already gave you yours.”
The man never knew cats could make such innocent facial expressions. Hellas glances towards his food station, tail flicking, and then looks back at Lorcan. His eyes say But I’m all out.
“Then you should learn to ration it better,” Lorcan grumbles. Hellas fluffs up his fur to tell Lorcan he disagrees with the sentiment. Lor takes a bite out of his food. It’s still way too fucking hot, and he burns his tongue.
Hellas flees the room when he swears. Lorcan calls after him, “Coward!”
Lorcan eats alone. That’s pretty typical unless one of the guys is up to something, but tonight, he realizes it. He’s alone for dinner, while Rowan is probably having dinner with Aelin, the twins always have dinner with each other, Gavriel and Vaughan probably met up, too. Even Elide has a date.
“Whatever,” he mumbles to himself, stabbing his noodles hard enough that he nearly punctures the styrofoam cup. “It’s better this way.”
Elide and Lorcan are both off the next morning. She was out later than Lorcan stayed up, which was weird. He’d wanted to know how the date went; he didn’t know how to bring it up now, without seeming too invested. But he wanted to. It was the first thing he thought of as he woke up.
“Easy there, hotshot,” Elide chastises the yowling kitten in the hallway. Lorcan can practically hear his claws digging into the hardwood. “Breakfast is imminent. I promise.”
Lorcan tries to summon his typical outrage at being woken up, but he’s actually excited for the chance to find out how Elide’s date went. The curiosity is strange for him; he’s not typically all that invested in other people’s lives like that. But he wants to know.
“You idiot,” Elide complains from the area she feeds Hellas. “There’s food all over your head now! You couldn’t just wait for me to finish?”
Lorcan is laughing before he’s even rounded the corner. It’s become their thing—Elide suffers at the hands of her rescue cat, and Lorcan laughs at her struggles. He’s certainly not going to tell her that sometimes he shares his fries with Hellas.
“You wanted a cat,” is all Lorcan says. Elide scoffs at him; she turns around, likely to give him a dirty look, but her eyes drop to his bare chest. He tries not to preen just as hard as he tries not to stare at all the bare leg Elide has on display. Living with a roommate of the opposite sex—It was weird.
“He needed a home,” Elide says, discarding the empty can of cat food and washing her hands. “He forgot to mention to me what a bratty little jerk he was, or I would’ve left him out in the street.”
“Liar,” Lorcan grins. “You love that bratty little jerk.”
Elide’s smile is crooked, “Yeah.”
“So,” he clears his throat. He blurts out the rest before he can reconsider, “How was the date?”
Elide’s face goes blank. He thinks that that’s a bad sign, but she tells him, “Fine.”
“Fine,” he repeats. Lorcan doesn’t know what that means, and Elide must see that because she crosses her arms over herself protectively, ducking her head to avoid his eye. It makes Lorcan feel a lot of strange things at once; he’ s—concerned. He wants, needs, to know if that asshat did something— if he needs to go kick his ass to next Tuesday.
“Uh,” Elide’s cheeks turn red. She still won’t look at him. “It was a date… I guess.”
Lorcan can tell there’s more, so he remains silent. Elide stares at her feet for a long while; Hellas finishes his food and begins to circle his owner’s ankles for attention. Elide picks him up and holds him close to her body.
“I’ve never been kissed before,” Elide says so softly that Lorcan nearly misses it.
“What?” He asks because he can’t believe it rather than having not heard.
His roommate’s face turns an even darker shade of red, and she shoves her face into the soft black fur of her cat. She repeats herself, “I’ve never been kissed before.”
“But you’re hot,” Lorcan tells her immediately. He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth.
Elide rolls her eyes at him, but there’s no missing the pleased tilt of her lips. “Gee, thanks.”
“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. It’s just… no one’s tried to kiss you?”
“My date did last night,” Elide’s nose scrunches up as she thinks about it. Hellas’s paw pats against her face while she ignores him, little asshole. “Well, he definitely tried to, but I chickened out.”
Lorcan arches a brow. Avoiding a kiss seems like an excellent way to not get kissed. “Bad breath?”
Another eye roll, “His breath was fine.”
“I meant yours.”
“Fuck you,” Elide says, but she’s laughing now. Lorcan’s pleased to watch as the tension falls from her shoulders. Hellas, having realized he won’t be the center of attention any longer, seeks release from Elide’s arms; the cat jumps to the floor and takes off in a flurry. Like he’s got anywhere to be.
“You’d have to kiss me first,” Lorcan jokes, lightning-fast. Elide turns red again; to his disappointment, his roommate just flips him off and leaves the room.
When Elide sits down beside him the next night, Lorcan knows she’s got something to say. It’s been a little over 24 hours since their last conversation about the kissing, and Elide hasn’t stopped thinking since then. He can tell. His roommate is easy to read, spacing out and chewing on her lip.
He waits for a good place to pause his video game, does so, and waits.
Elide blurts out, “Teach me how to kiss.”
Lorcan goes still. Did she just say what he thinks she said? The crimson color of her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, and her neck suggest so. Lorcan didn’t know a person could blush that hard.
“What?” He croaks.
If Elide bites her lip any harder, her teeth are going to go through it. His roommate stutters at first, but eventually, she manages to repeat herself, “Kissing. Can you show me how to do it?”
“Why do you need—show you?”
Elide recovers from her embarrassment long enough to scowl, “You could at least pretend not to find the idea of kissing me horrifying.”
“What?” Clearly, his brain isn’t working correctly.
“It’s just,” Elide continues. She seems not to notice how Lorcan’s mind has short-circuited. “I chickened out last night because I didn’t know how to kiss someone. I didn’t want to mess it up or whatever. But I wanted to kiss him. I was just scared.”
Lorcan clears his throat, “You can’t do it wrong, El. It’s just kissing.”
Even as he says it, Lorcan knows she sees right through it. “Aelin would beg to differ.”
“So, why don’t you ask her?” He asks instead of asking Why me?
Elide’s face falls, “Because she doesn’t know, and she’d never let me live it down if she found out about it.”
“Oh… I thought you were close?”
“You know what?” Elide says, turning red again. “This was a stupid idea. Never mind. I’ll figure it out.”
She hops off the couch and runs for her bedroom. Lorcan feels like a dick; although, he isn’t sure why. “Wait!” He calls after her, “Shit—El!”
He follows after her, catching her door with his foot so that she can’t slam it in his face. He’d deserve it. Elide rests her hands on her hips and glares at him, challenging him to say something else.
“I’ll do it,” Lorcan says, feeling really weird all of a sudden. “I just—give a guy a break. You can’t just spring that on me outta nowhere.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she repeats. “Since I’m clearly so unkissable, I don’t think it’ll be a problem going forward.”
“You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that, right?” He seethes, and Elide tries to close the door in his face again. He catches it. “Now shut up, and fucking listen to me. Rule two.”
Her brown eyes promise murder, but Elide doesn’t say anything. She crosses her arms in defense and allows Lorcan to reopen the door.
“First of all, no poor bastard is going to have the balls to kiss you when you’re looking at him like that,” Lorcan starts. A wicked gleam enters Elide’s eye. “Second, a guy doesn’t always have to make the first move, Miss Feminist. Equal opportunities for all.”
“Gods, you’re such a dick,” she tells him. Lorcan shrugs; it isn’t an incorrect statement.
Lorcan steps into her space before she can set about tearing into him. Elide holds her ground as he knew she would, and Lorcan tips her chin upward to kiss her. He swallows; this isn’t weird, right?
He brushes his lips against hers, and when Elide’s mouth falls open, Lorcan can’t resist the chance to kiss her better, show her how it’s done. It’s quick. Simple. He doesn’t bother with the party tricks; Lorcan isn’t trying to convince this girl to go home with him. This is Elide, his roommate.
The slightest hint of his tongue in her mouth makes Elide gasp, and Lorcan is definitely feeling a little smug when he pulls away. Then he remembers a crucial detail—Elide’s never kissed anyone before.
Fuck, he should not have done that. Isn’t a girl’s first kiss supposed to mean something to them?
Elide looks thoughtful for a second, and then she brushes the moment off like dust. “Right. I think I got the gist of it.”
Thanks? He stares at her dumbly as Elide backs him from her room. “Oh. Word.”
Elide flashes a grateful smile, “Thanks.”
She closes the door without further discussion, and he stares at it for a moment. Lorcan was not expecting a cavalier attitude, but he also doesn’t know what he was expecting exactly. He shakes his head and heads back for his video games. Living with a girl is fucking weird.
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Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC)
Story Rating: Explicit
Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic / Humor
Story Warnings: Body swapping, Foreplay (fingering / hand job), Masturbation, Sex (vaginal), Implied oral at the end, Alcohol, Intoxication, Cursing, Degrading dirty talk
a/n: This was incredibly difficult, awkward, and confusing to write, but I had a lot of fun with it and I hope it’s not too all over the place! I also hope no one gets too confused reading it but... either way, enjoy!
Written for the @bnhabookclub ‘s members bingo event!
Crossed off: Body Swap
BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~
Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+
Art in banner by me
“Uh… Katsuki-” Koge choked on her own voice, covering her mouth as she peered down at her lover in complete shock. Or, well, she was technically staring down at… herself? What had happened? How the hell was she staring down at herself, her own pale blue gaze locked on her with just as much confusion. Her eyes that she had only ever seen through a reflection grew from surprised to absolutely horrified, skin growing pale - or, paler - as her body began to tremble.
“W-what the fuck, why do I-- wait, that’s not--!” Mimicking Koge’s previous movements of covering her mouth, the petite woman took a few steps back, looking up and down the body that Koge herself currently inhabited. “Not my voice! Why are you--? How did we--?!”
Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Koge finally looked down at her body, squeaking out in shock at the view she had of a muscular torso clad in a black tank top. Next, her large hands moved up into her hair, feeling around the shortness of the soft locks that she was highly familiar with.
“Don’t make that sound with my voice!”
“Your voice?” Koge looked back down at Bakugou, and she could now, without a doubt, confirm the horrible and shocking truth.
The two of them had switched bodies.
“Katsuki, how the hell did this happen?” Koge took a few steps forward, placing both of her hands on Bakugou’s cheeks, though the size of them threw her off, nearly poking him in the eye. With a scoff and a snarl that Koge had never seen on her own face before, Bakugou smacked her hands away, frantically looking around them for the source of what had caused this catastrophe.
“That person that bumped into us earlier! It had to have been them! Where the fuck did they go?” Bakugou began his trek back down the sidewalk the way the couple had originally come, white hair flipping and bobbing in its high ponytail as he looked around with snappy and rushed movements. People around them were also quite confused, stepping out of his way to avoid the fuming tiny body. Not wanting him to get too far away from her, Koge trotted after him, her newfound long legs making it quite easy to catch up.
“Wait, wait, wait! Katsuki, we didn’t even see what he looked like, we can’t just go storming through the streets like this.”
“No, I saw what he looked like!” Bakugou tried to look back at her, though his gaze instinctively went down, instead landing on Koge’s thighs. Embarrassment flashed across his face before he looked up, catching Koge’s gaze only for a moment before becoming visibly frustrated. “We can’t stay like this!”
“I know that we can’t, Katsuki, but there are literally hundreds of people out right now. And you… don’t have a quirk that can get you up high anymore…” Koge timidly fiddled with her unfamiliar blunt nails, brow furrowed in worry. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“He was a fucking bald dude. And don’t pick at my nails, they’re short enough as it is!” Bakugou slapped her hands, though he did step in closer. “Take us up onto that building! I have my hero license if someone tries to stop us--”
“I can’t use your quirk!” Her voice went higher than she had ever heard Bakugou’s in her panic, and the annoyance was visible on Bakugou’s face as his nose scrunched up. “Katsuki I wouldn’t even know how to activate it. And what if I did too strong of an explosion? I could kill people!” With a shake of her head, Koge shoved her hands into her pockets firmly. “No, I won’t even try--”
“-- But we gotta find that asshole!”
“I know we do, my love, but that just isn’t safe! We still have to be responsible…”
“Then what do we do?”
Koge looked up and down the sidewalk, giving a heavy sigh as she gazed over the bobbing heads of the packed crowds walking around them. “We just… we’ll have to look for him on foot, I guess. Let’s just go down the way we came from and I’ll try to spot him. You said bald? Anything else?”
Falling oddly silent, Bakugou’s face flushed in agitation, both of his hands clutching onto the hem of the skirt Koge had worn that day. The longer he stood there silently, trying to coordinate his thoughts, the more his body began to tremble.
“I… can’t remember…” Bakugou grumbled, eyes falling to look down at the sidewalk in defeat. “And there’s a million bald bastards in this city. Fuck!”
Frowning, Koge caressed Bakugou’s arms gently, momentarily surprised at the way his entire hand could easily wrap around her body's upper arm. She truly was a tiny woman, though seeing it from this point of view was shocking. “Katsuki, let’s just… Why don’t we go to the police? If I was paying attention correctly, he seemed to bump into us very purposefully… I wonder if he’s doing these things to couples and random people to cause trouble.”
Suddenly, Bakugou’s eyes lit up, as if a lightbulb had gone off inside his brain. “Ah, wait…! Shit.” Fumbling with the small purse slung over his shoulder, Bakugou pulled out Koge’s phone, poking the screen with lightning fast panic before holding the phone up to his ear. While they waited for whoever it was to answer, Koge used her grip on his arm to pull him off to the side into a little alleyway between businesses, so that they wouldn’t be in the way and she could possibly hear the conversation as well.
“Put it on speaker--”
With another glance up at her, Bakugou did so, holding the phone between them as they listened to it ring. Finally, a ring cut off, the cheery voice of their close friend ringing through the air.
“Koge! Hey, how’s it going?”
“It’s not Koge, shittyhair, it’s me!”
“What? You sound like Koge, but she never calls me that.”
“It’s me, Bakugou!”
“Bakugou? Uh… Koge, is this like… a prank?”
Tensing up with teeth clenched in a snarl, Bakugou nearly looked like he was about to throw the phone on the ground, even squatting down slightly in his typical aggressive posture with his other hand held up in agitation. “No-!”
“N-no, Eijirou, it’s not a prank. Just… something happened, I’m not sure why Bakugou called you--” Koge interrupted, stepping in a bit closer to not only make sure that Kirishima could hear her clearly, but also to keep Bakugou from breaking her phone.
“Okay, this is really trippy, man. You’re not messing with me?”
“Just listen to me!” Bakugou barked loudly, startling Koge enough to make her jump. “You know that fucking guy we got a report on yesterday? The bitch that is making people switch bodies?” Koge caught Bakugou’s gaze, though the glare he gave her told her to hold her tongue for a moment. “What’d it say? It wasn’t in my jurisdiction, so I didn’t pay much attention to it.”
“That’s not very hero-ish of you, man, you should pay attention to all of--”
“I don’t need a fucking lecture, asshole!”
“Wow, it’s so weird to hear Koge talk like this! Okay, okay. Yeah, I remember, what about it?”
“Did they say anything about the quirk? How long it lasts or what to do if you get hit by it?” Seeming comforted by the fact that Kirishima knew what he was talking about, Bakugou’s posture relaxed, standing up straight with his free hand firmly on his hip. Koge had to admit that seeing her body acting out all these familiar reactions was very trippy, especially since she had grown quite desensitized from years and years of being with Bakugou.
“Oh, wait, did you really get hit with it--?”
“Are you shitting me right now?!” Bakugou barked, even somehow producing his signature growl using Koge’s meek voice. “Would I be asking if it hadn’t happened?!”
“Oh, true, I guess. Uh, yeah, they said that it goes away on its own after a few days-”
“Yeah, man. Just lay low for a while. You’re on vacation anyway, aren’t you? No one has to know! I won’t tell.”
“Don’t fucking talk to anyone about it. Not even Curls, got it?!” As he gave an aggressive point at the phone screen, Koge had to hold back a laugh and keep her snide comments to herself. She couldn’t help a little snort from escaping, however, and Bakugou’s finger moved to her, as did his warning glare that this statement applied to her, too.
“Haha, don’t worry, Nene won’t hear it from me! Ya need anything else, man? I actually have a villain like… tied up right now-”
“And you still answered the fucking phone?”
“Well yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
Bakugou gave a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, mumbling to himself at the idiocy of his best friend. “Alright. Thanks.”
“No problem! Later!”
With the farewell, Bakugou hung up the call, turning his annoyed glare up to Koge, who released a small sigh in relief. “Well, Katsuki, I guess… We should do that?”
Putting the phone away, Bakugou shook his head, turning his glare out to watch the people passing by. “I fucking hate it. I want to be able to catch that fucker.” How antsy he had become was visible, as if he were hanging on the tips of his toes to run off again and search the entire city himself. That would be a fruitless venture, and if Koge didn’t come up with some way to pull him back, he was going to go trotting around in her body and cause who knows how much trouble.
“I know, love.” Koge took both of his hands again gently, unable to help the small smile on her lips at how Bakugou’s cheeks flushed at her touch. “But don’t worry. It’ll pass. How about we just continue on with our day?”
“There’s no fucking way I’m going to a movie and shit like this, Utsuro. Let’s just go home.” How quickly he gave in was quite surprising, his brow furrowing in helplessness. “I feel fucking weird standing out here in a damn skirt, anyway. Couldn’t you have worn hose or leggings? Something besides just these fucking underwear that are all the way up my crack!”
Koge instantly burst out in a choked laugh, covering her lips with one hand to try and hide her amused smile. “Well, someone told me to wear those earlier while we were getting ready. They look cute, but they’re really uncomfortable.”
“Then why do you wear them!?”
“Because they’re your favorite right now. Though I bet that’s gonna change now that you gotta walk all the way home in them.” Koge placed both her hands on his cheeks, pushing white bangs out of the way to press a sweet kiss on his forehead. “Or, if you really want, just slip them off and put them in the purse. No one will know unless the wind blows the skirt up.”
Growling as his face flushed a dark crimson from the affection, Bakugou gripped onto both of her hands, digging the tips of his fingers between her palms and his cheeks. “Don’t use my body to kiss yours! It’s weird! And no, I’m not going to pussy out and take them off. If you can deal with them for me, then I can take it.” Even though his voice was aggressive, the softness in his gaze as he looked up at her gave away how appreciative he was of her calming and distracting him.
Ignoring his command, Koge gave him another smooch on the forehead before releasing him, though one of his hands stayed clutched onto hers tightly. “Let’s go home, then. We can just get tipsy off whisky and watch stupid horror movies instead.”
“I need to get fucking wasted to handle this shit.” Bakugou began to storm out of the ally, tugging her along by the hand, even though he was nearly pulled back just from the sturdiness of his muscular original body. “Fuck, walk, would’ya!?”
“I am!” Koge kept up with him, though she let out an audible groan only a few steps down the sidewalk, shoving her free hand into her pocket nervously. “I’m going to bump into all these people, I know it. I’m not used to being this huge!”
“And you think it’s easy for me to be this small?!” Bakugou scoffed, glaring up at Koge out of the corner of his eye. “You’re a shrimp! I feel like anyone could just step on me. I hate it.”
“Your dick is also super weird feeling,” Koge mumbled barely loud enough for Bakugou to hear. “It jiggles around when I walk, why do you wear such loose pants and boxers?”
“Maybe because I like the freedom? Be grateful I even wore boxers today, you know I usually don’t with sweatpants.”
“It’s weird! I feel like I need to walk with my legs spread-”
“-Don’t, you’ll make me look like a dipshit!”
“Oh, hm. Then I’m gonna do it, all the way home, and tomorrow there will be reports of the great Ground Zero walking around like he has a stick up his ass.”
They returned home within the hour, having bickered most of the way back on how to properly carry each other’s bodies and basic etiquette concerning skirts, which Bakugou failed to follow, as he demonstrated quite well by nearly flashing everyone while not holding the skirt down as a train flew past in the station. Koge was quick to hold it down for him, even if his initial reaction and bark not to touch his ass pulled in more attention than a little cheeky peek would have.
Otherwise it was a cacophony of “don’t slouch”, “you can’t just reach into your shirt to fix your bra in front of everyone”, “pull up your pants, they’re too far down your ass”, “don’t play pocket pool, everyone can see”, “stop frowning so much, you’ll give my face permanent wrinkles”, and whatever other little thing the couple could find to nitpick.
By the time they walked through the door to their apartment, Bakugou was beyond agitated, taking off his shoes before storming into the kitchen. “I’m not leaving this damn place until we’re normal again! Not for anything!”
With a small roll of her eyes at his attitude, Koge took her shoes off as well, leaving them at the entrance. Following her lover, she immediately burst out into laughter at the sight of him trying to reach up to their alcohol stash, which was on a cabinet shelf that she could never reach, not without the help of a chair, a stool, or a strong man. “What’s the matter, Katsuki? A little short, aren't cha?”
“I fucking swear Utsuro, I will destroy your stupid ass!”
“So you’ll destroy yourself? Doesn’t sound very productive.” Smirk on her lips, Koge slipped her hands under his arms, grabbing him by the armpits to easily hoist him up. “Up you go!”
Flailing, Bakugou didn’t even bother to grab the alcohol, snatching the skirt and holding it against his hips as a shocked squeak left his lips. “Hey! You bitch, put me down!”
Koge sputtered a chuckle, giving a roll of her eyes as she nudged him towards the cabinet. “Oh my god, Katsuki, it’s literally my body, why are you hiding yourself! Get the whisky!”
“I don’t need your help!”
“Love, I know better than anyone that you do need my help.”
“I’m not a fucking child-!”
“-Just get it and I’ll let you down!”
Huffing in defiance, Bakugou glared up at the bottle of alcohol before snatching it, holding it tightly to his chest before slamming the cabinet door closed. “Put me the fuck down!”
“But you’re so light! I could just carry you forever. Like my own little pocket Katsuki,” Koge plopped him down onto his feet, putting her hands triumphantly on her hips as she smiled down at him, though all she received in return was a flustered glare.
“Don’t ever pick me up again.”
“No?” Smile turning sly, Koge placed both of her hands firmly against the edge of the countertop, arms on either side of his body and trapping him in place. “I promise I won’t do it again. If you give me a kiss.”
Bakugou’s cheeks flushed all the way to his ears, immediately shaking his head. “No! Utsuro, that’s weird! That’s like kissing myself.”
“Nuh uh, you’re just kissing me.”
“You could kiss your own body and not be creeped out?” Glowering up at her, Bakugou popped the cork out of the whisky bottle, holding it tightly by the neck. Koge sighed, letting her head hang for a moment as she met his glare with one of her own.
“Katsuki. I want you to think of all the other weird shit we’ve done. You shove your fingers and your dick in my mouth during and after fucking me all the time. You eat me out - pussy and ass - and then kiss me. Honestly. You think I’m scared of kissing myself? Also,” Koge shifted her weight to the other foot, smile returning to her lips. “You have no excuses to be grossed out, either. You literally ate me out the other day, even after you had already cum in me. And you let me kiss you after sucking you off and everything else, too. No excuses.”
Falling silent in contemplation, Bakugou brought the bottle up to his lips, taking a decent swig of the dark liquid. “Why do you always have to have a rational reasoning for everything? I love that about you, but sometimes it pisses me off, ‘cause I can never win!”
“Soooo?” Koge’s smile grew, eyes growing brighter with her victory. “Kiss?”
Aggressively snatching onto the front of Koge’s shirt, Bakugou yanked her down, allowing their lips to press together in an awkward and uncoordinated mess. Koge was quick to try and recover it, however, taking hold of his cheeks and using her memory of the way he kissed her to mimic his movement and position. Bakugou wasn’t quite able to do the same, his smaller mouth a bit awkward for him, but neither seemed to mind when Koge pulled away. She nearly burst out into laughter at how incredibly red his face was, giving him one more peck on the lips before pulling away.
“Don’t be so shy, Katsuki! You have really soft lips, you know, you should enjoy it.”
“Yeah but your mouth is so fucking tiny, I felt like you were going to eat my face.”
“Well, we have a few days to practice. Maybe it’ll make us better kissers when we’re normal again.”
“You’re not getting another kiss, that was it.”
“I dunno, Katsuki. Who knows what that whisky will make you feel like in my body.”
As the sun set, the couple sat on the couch in their living room, watching whatever movie looked the most absurd. By now, the two of them had finished off the bottle of whisky, with Bakugou being the one to really go at it. Even though Koge had just as much as he had, she wasn’t feeling anything more than a little buzz, her body relaxed and eyes feeling heavy with the weight of alcohol. But, at the other end of the couch from where she sat, Bakugou seemed to be barely holding himself together.
Koge had warned him, though. She had told him that she was a total lightweight, and getting drunk was incredibly, and almost frighteningly, easy for her. Still, here he was, drinking like he was still in his own body. Pushed right to the edge of no longer being coherent or truly conscious of his actions or surroundings, Koge had taken the whisky away and put it up, leaving Bakugou to pout and whine. She could deal with it, since it was better than having to take care of him while he puked on the floor. Thankfully, they had a lot of snacks, too, so that helped to offset the intoxication just a little bit.
That didn’t help his attitude, though. Frustrated that she had taken the whisky away from him, he plopped himself on the other end of the couch, a permanent pout on his lips as he watched the television with hazy focus. She had tried to get him to return to cuddles, but he was being stubborn, so in the end, she let him sit alone to pout until he got lonely on his own.
“This movie is the worst.” Koge mumbled as she plopped some popcorn into her mouth, giving a sigh as she stretched out her legs along the couch, giving a small groan as they crackled and popped at the joints. “Jeez, Katsuki, your body is so sore! What the hell have you been doing that’s different with your workouts?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Bakugou mumbled, ignoring her feet as they rested against his thigh. “Whisky thief.”
With a roll of her eyes, Koge tossed some popcorn at him, hitting him in the cheek and making him jump. Huffing, Bakugou picked up the piece and threw it back, only to be pelted with at least five more pieces. “Stop, ya salty bitch!”
“You’re the salty bitch tonight.” Koge tossed another, only for Bakugou to somehow successfully catch it in his mouth despite his incoordination. “Ooh, nice one, babe. Even shitfaced you can still catch popcorn.”
“I am not shitfaced.” Bakugou began to pick up the pieces of popcorn that had fallen over his body, though one was particularly difficult as it fell between the impressive cleavage he now sported. “Damn you and your big tits!”
“What?! You love my tits, don’t act like that.” Koge’s attention was pulled back to the television with the sound of a particularly horrific scream, the gruesome death scene doing nothing to perturb her. “Aw, poor thing. Getting chopped up by a meat cleaver.”
“Oh damn, is that the sexy one?”
“Nah, it’s her friend. The sexy one is still off with her boyfriend.”
“The sexy one needs to come back, she looks like you.” Bakugou let out a belch, reaching out to grab the bottle of water Koge had given to him to drink. “I can’t look at you, so I have to look at her instead.”
Koge gave a small chortle, having to control herself to not burst out laughing as water accidentally dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin, once again landing on his chest and slipping down into his cleavage. “Katsuki, you can look at me. Just look down, you are literally in my body.”
“It’s not the same… Fuck!” Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he grumbled in annoyance to himself, nearly missing the table while attempting to put the water bottle back in its place. “Why is this table so fucking far away.”
“It’s not. You drunk.”
“Fuck off. Ooh damn, there she is. How much she looks like you is fucking crazy. Oh shit, they’re getting frisky.” Bakugou settled back against the couch, intently focused on the TV to his highest capability.
“Do you love her more than me?”
“I want to fucking bone the shit out of you, Utsuro, but I can’t, so all I can do is stare at this cunt who looks like you.”
“So vicious. What if that was me? What if I’ve been a secret actor my whole life?”
“I said that she looked like you, but that doesn’t mean she’s exactly like you. You’re way fucking hotter than that bitch. Also, her fake moans sound like shit.” Pulling out another piece of popcorn that he had previously forgotten on his lap, Bakugou ate it, effectively ending that conversation as the hated fake moans filled the room. As the sex scene went on, Koge found herself watching for when they would be attacked by the murderer, but there was something that bothered her about it.
It was so damn long and more realistic than what she was used to seeing in B-rated horror movies. Usually they were quick and to the point before the couple got interrupted or murdered while fucking. But this seemed to be going on forever, and she was about to make a snide comment about it when she noticed something out of her peripheral.
Bakugou was moving, however miniscule, and how long it had gone unnoticed wasn’t something Koge was sure about. From what she could tell without looking at him directly, he seemed to have his hands up inside the tank top he was wearing, massaging and squeezing his chest. What was more, she could hear his more hitched and deep breathing behind the sounds coming from the TV, truly giving away exactly what he was doing.
Is he seriously touching my body? He really must be horny.
Holding her breath so she could hear him better, Koge clutched on tightly to the bowl of popcorn still sitting on her lap, a heat rising into the tips of her ears. Why would he be doing that with her sitting right here? Could he really just not wait, or was this some kind of signal that he didn’t care about the circumstances and wanted to fuck anyway? There was also the possibility that he was so wasted that he just completely forgot that she was even there.
With a particular loud hitching of his breath, Koge felt an unfamiliar twitch between her legs, becoming quite hyper aware of the pulsing presence pushing up against the bowl. Oooh god, I have a boner! Damn, this is bad!
Adjusting the way she was sitting so that she could put the bowl down, she tried to sit with her legs in different positions, but in the end, she found that any position didn’t hide her affliction. Faster than she could even prepare herself, the cock she had always adored and craved was hard and pressing up uncomfortably against the sweatpants she wore. It was so sensitive, every little twitch to shifting of the fabric against it making her body tingle and crave for contact.
She had always wondered what it felt like to have a boner, but now that she did, she could understand why Bakugou got incredibly frustrated and impatient. The urge to fuck that came with it was familiar to her, but damn was it difficult to not just start stroking it.
“You got a fucking boner, Utsuro?”
Koge nearly jumped out of her skin at Bakugou’s voice, finally finding the courage to look at him. Leaning back and sunk down a bit with feet placed firmly on the floor, Bakugou was still playing with his breasts beneath the tank, the shape and movement of his hands visible beneath the thin fabric. Although Koge wanted to watch, her gaze was locked with his, the heat in her ears spreading across her cheeks to the tip of her nose.
“I… So what if I do?” Koge huffed, once again trying to hide her hips with her arms. “I’m not the one touching myself. Look at you, squeezing your - my - tits like a horny teenager who’s never seen them before. Are you even listening?!”
Bakugou leaned his head back, mouth open in a choked moan and eyes fluttering closed, fingers clearly clamped down tightly around his hard nipples. “Fuck, your tits are so perfect and sensitive. No wonder you scream when I bite them.”
Koge’s stomach began to bubble with nervous arousal, wishing so desperately to scoot over and join him. “What… made you want to start that?”
“I don’t fucking know. I think… that even though I’m in your body… It still naturally reacts to things that would turn you on before, on top of my attraction to your body, I just… Fuck, I just needed to feel something!”
At first, the theory that he proposed seemed reasonable, especially with the way Bakugou’s original body reacted just to hearing the soft and sensual gasps he had been making. Normally, just a sultry little giggle could turn Bakugou on like a furnace and his hands would be latched to her body in seconds. He adored her voice, and she loved his, but it was such a strange sensation to be turned on by her original sounds. Or maybe that wasn’t the case, and this entire theory was just drunken ramblings, his mind trying to come up with anything to rationalize what he was feeling.
A fire rushed down Koge’s spine as Bakugou pushed the tank up over his chest, letting his breasts fall free before he took hold of them again. In the dim blue glow of the TV, Koge could see that his nipples were puffy and dark pink from the abuse, telling her that he was really going strong. The cock between her legs once again twitched impatiently at the sight, strained against the fabric that concealed it. Unsure of what else to do, she cupped it in her hand, trying to hold it in hopes that the touch would at least help a little. All it did was make the blush on her face grow hotter as she could feel it pulsing, only able to imagine the way it always felt so good being shoved down her throat.
“How’s it feel, Utsuro? Huh? To have a dick so hard that you feel crazy, with no pussy or mouth to stick it in.” One of Bakugou’s hands left his breasts, slipping down between his legs to rub his sex on the outside of his underwear. A simple stroke to the unfamiliar and sensitive clit had him trembling, biting lazily at his bottom lip. “Fuck… You have such a slutty body. It’s weird to see it like this… To touch you as you.”
Koge began to palm up and down the length of the cock in her hand, watching him continue to pleasure himself. “You’re the worst, you know that. You go on and on, refusing to even let me kiss you, and now you’re over there touching yourself and saying all that dirty shit.”
“Fuck off. I don’t need you to get off, I can make your body cum myself and be done with it. You can go jack off in the bathroom or right there, I don’t fucking care.” Being familiar with her body and how to touch her, Bakugou’s hand was quick to slip inside his underwear, fingers immediately starting to plunge in and out of him. Though, Koge was immediately able to recognize the slightly confused furrow of his brow as his fingers defaulted back to his clit.
Koge couldn’t get off on just her fingers. At this point in her life, having been with him for so long and growing used to either him getting her off or using toys, there wasn’t ever anything she could do using her own hands or fingers to truly get her off. Sure, it felt good, but very rarely and only in times of true desperation could she get herself to cum. And, if it was her body still getting turned on and not necessarily just his own horny thoughts, Koge knew that her stubborn body would want either thick fingers or a fat cock inside her, and nothing else would suffice.
Knowing this fact could be her chance, Koge shifted herself in just a bit closer, still softly rubbing and teasing her cock through the fabric of her sweats. “What’s wrong, Katsuki? Did you forget a little something about my body? You seem a little surprised.”
“I said fuck off! I can’t do it with you staring at me like that!” Bakugou’s hazy glare was only set on her face for a moment before it fell to her hips, the already fierce blush growing darker. He wiggled, as if his body had begun to ache for the source of pleasure it craved before he had to forcibly tear his eyes away. “I don’t need your help!”
“You do, though, Katsuki.” Moving to sit right up beside him on her knees, Koge placed one hand on his bare thigh, feeling the corners of her lips twitch in excitement as his legs spread further open instinctively. “You’ll never be able to get off on just those little fingers. My body needs more… Why don’t you let me show you?” Moving slowly, Koge’s hand began to travel up towards Bakugou's hips, the urges within her only growing stronger by the feeling of such soft skin against rough and calloused palms. So focused on trying to persuade him, she barely noticed her other hand shifting her sweatpants out of the way, setting her cock free.
Bakugou's eyes were immediately on her hips again, that familiar hint of contemplation in his gaze. “Utsuro, what makes you think I need your help?”
“I know you do. Just look,” It took very little pressure for Koge to slip her hand into Bakugou's underwear, finding no resistance as she replaced his fingers along his soaked cunt. With the first rough roll of her large fingers against his clit, Bakugou’s body immediately reacted just as she expected, giving a light jerk inwards with a moan slipping unrestrained from his lips. Smirk crossing her own, Koge used her memory of what he always did to her, rolling the puffy and sensitive button with hard pressure. “See the difference? See how good it feels…”
Bakugou’s chest began to heave with his breathing, eyes locked on the form of Koge’s hand moving beneath the little lace underwear. “I-it doesn’t feel any different- a-ah, fuck, I said I don’t need you!” One of Bakugou’s legs lifted to unconsciously give Koge more room, his foot slamming firmly onto the table. Taking the hint, Koge slipped her middle and third finger into him, her entire body flushing with a fierce and burning heat at the moan that left his lips. Just watching him come undone so quickly with just the deep and rhythmic movements of her fingers made her want to immediately sink her cock into whatever orifice he’d allow, but she kept control of herself.
“You do need me, Katsuki. Look at you… Just admit that it’s amazing. That it’s exactly what my body wants. I know what my body wants.”
Giving a click of his tongue in between his deep breaths and moans, Bakugou took hold of Koge’s cock with the hand he had been using to pleasure himself, using the slick that still coated his fingers and the dripping precum from her tip to start stroking. “I know, too! You couldn’t handle my body on your own, either!”
Unable to resist the shuddering of her body and the deep groan that left her lips, Koge leaned forward a bit over Bakugou’s body, using her free arm against the back of the couch to hold herself steady. With every tight squeeze against her tip, Koge felt her body become more overwhelmed with the pleasure and desires for more, her hips lightly bucking up into his touch. Although it felt amazing, her eyes wandering his body and head filled with the sounds of his moans only pushed her buttons further. She needed more. This wasn’t going to be enough.
Though, before Koge could even make another move, Bakugou cursed out loudly, putting both hands onto her chest and pushing her back roughly to force her to down onto her back. “Fuck this! Lay your stupid ass down! I’m going to take care of this, now!”
“W-what? Wait, Katsuki-!”
Not even giving Koge a moment to fix her position, Bakugou climbed up on top of her all while stripping off his underwear, straddling her hips. “No more waiting! I swore I wasn’t going to do this shit, but your fucking body is so slutty it can’t survive not having my cock inside it. You damn fucking whore.” Bakugou took hold of Koge’s face roughly, his drunken and horny rage making him very uncoordinated and rough, though Koge wasn’t going to complain, as the feeling of his nails in her skin made her cock ache and twitch impatiently. “You’re a whore, aren’t you? You’re my little cock hungry slut.”
“Y-yes, Katsuki-” Koge bit down onto her bottom lip as Bakugou sat firmly down onto her hips, her cock squished between her abdomen and Bakugou’s dripping cunt. With a slow rolling of his hips, Bakugou began to grind his clit along her, from the base to the tip. “Fuck-!”
“What’s that?” A wicked smirk crossed Bakugou’s lips, putting more pressure with each grind of his hips. “What’s wrong, Utsuro?”
“I-” A hiss left her lips as Bakugou released her face, both of his hands resting against her stomach with nails digging into her skin. In response, Koge gripped onto his hips tightly, wishing so desperately to just shove herself inside him. “Stop teasing!”
“You say that, but my body fucking loves it, right? Isn’t that what you’ve been going on about? And yours… fuck!” Losing his composure, Bakugou made rough and small movements right against the tip of Koge’s cock, using the ridges along the underside to pleasure himself. “Yours is on fire! This damn… fucking slutty body of yours… Only one way to deal with it-!”
Finally lifting his hips, Bakugou wasted no time in beginning to lower himself down onto Koge’s cock, but he barely got past the tip before he had to pause. Koge might have had a bit to do with that, as the initial squeezing against her tip and the heat felt as if she might lose control of herself that instant. So, she kept a tight grip on his hips, using her strength to keep him from moving another inch as she let herself grow used to the unfamiliar pleasures.
“Bitching out already, Utsuro?”
Breathing heavily, Koge glared up at Bakugou, who’s smug smirk made her immediately quite flustered. “Shut up, Katsuki. You don’t even know what’s about to come.”
“Don’t be so fucking cocky-”
Koge didn’t allow him to even catch a breath before she pulled his hips down with a thrust of her own hips upward, bringing his hips down flush against hers to bury her cock completely inside him. All the air knocked out of his lungs, Bakugou barely even got a squeak out, nearly collapsing forward onto Koge’s chest. Eyes wide and mouth agape with shock, Bakugou’s began to tremble, struggling to take in a breath or get out a single word. Koge, however, couldn’t stand waiting a single second longer, the feeling of being so deep inside him already driving her crazy. “A-ah, Katsuki! It’s so hot!”
Bakugou’s voice was a choked whisper as Koge began to thrust upwards into him, overpowering him to keep control so he couldn’t move away. Although he was being defiant, Bakugou couldn’t stop the moans that spilled from his lips, completely overwhelmed with the pleasure. Koge was the same, the feeling of being squeezed like this with each thrust so blissful that she already felt the urge to cum. But, within a few moments, Bakugou gathered himself, giving a frustrated yell as one of his hands came to rest roughly and firmly on Koge’s face, two of his fingers plunging into her mouth to get her attention.
“I said don’t!” With the momentary confusion, Bakugou began to take over the pace, bouncing his body. “I said I was going to take care of this! Don’t fuck me unless I say so!”
“W-what are you saying?” Koge’s ability to speak was inhibited by his fingers, but she was too overcome with wave after wave of pleasure to care. “I am fucking you! Ack, don’t-!” Koge pulled his hand away from her mouth. “Your body has a weak gag reflex! You can’t stick your fingers down my throat right now, I’ll puke!”
“No shit! I don’t suck cock like you do every day! Fuck, it’s already in there so fucking deep, how can your body want more?!”
“A-ah, mm- wait! Wait, Katsuki!” Koge felt completely helpless as Bakugou rode her with vigor, bouncing his body rougher and more eager than Koge could ever remember doing herself. He was completely smitten, the pleasure only intoxicating him further until he wasn’t holding himself back. “I-I’m not sure I can hold out! How do you hold it in?!”
“Shut the fuck up and clench your balls, Utsuro!”
“That isn’t how it works!”
“I don’t fucking know, I can’t think! Distract yourself-!” A squeak left his lips as Koge snatched onto the tank he still wore, yanking him down and pulling him into a kiss to do just that. Bakugou was quick to reciprocate, only having to pause his hips for a moment before he began to pick back up the pace, moaning and gasping into the kiss as both of his hands buried into Koge’s hair. His nails in her scalp and how eager he was didn’t help Koge’s condition at all, and just hearing the way his voice hitched in that familiar sign of getting close to his peak made her body tense in frustration.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, Koge once again began thrusting upwards into him, matching his pace and rhythm. Bakugou’s voice immediately spiked, his head resting into Koge’s shoulder, though he didn’t do anything to stop her. “Utsuro! I said… I-... I said don’t!”
“Shut up, Katsuki! Just let me do it! It’s obvious you’re enjoying getting fucked by your own cock, so take it!”
“I’m not! I’m not- it’s your fucking slutty body! It has nothing to do with me! Oh shit, that spot there! There- fuck!”
“A-ah, Katsuki, don’t squeeze, I can’t-!”
From that moment on, there was nothing Koge could do to restrain herself. His moans, the slapping of skin and the feeling of his walls constricting around her like a vice pushed her over the edge, a burst of pleasure rocketing from the pressure within her hips. It was unlike anything she was used to feeling, the singular powerful pop of pleasure bringing her body nearly to a complete halt, gasping and groaning into Bakugou’s hair as her hips bucked up hard and deep into him.
With the last twinge of pleasure, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of her body, falling limp as she struggled to catch her breath. “Damn… That’s… Nothing like normal. Not as strong as what I’m used to either but- OUCH!” Koge winced as there was a sudden harsh yank to her hair, peering up at Bakugou through one clenched eye as he sat up, though the dark look on his face immediately made Koge’s stomach churn nervously. “Oh no-”
“I didn’t cum yet, Utsuro.” Bakugou’s glare was dark, as if he were about to go on a murderous rampage. “You fucking scum.”
“K-Katsuki, wait, I couldn’t help it!” Koge nervously grabbed onto Bakugou’s sides, unsure of what was about to happen. Of course, she knew exactly how he was feeling, and how badly she probably just edged him would have been unbearable. “I’m sorry! Let me, uh… Just let me get hard again, I can finish you off!” Suddenly, there was a hitch of Bakugou’s breath, his eyes growing teary and face flushing from ear to ear. Now, Bakugou was truly going through the torment of edging and dissatisfaction that Koge had to suffer through on a daily basis because of him and his teasing, and even if he had a strong consciousness, the intoxication and feeling of his new body wasn’t going to let him have all the control.
“Bullshit! You bitch! I was so close!”
“Oh what, does it hurt? See what I suffer through, Katsuki?! Maybe now you’ll never edge me again!”
“Oh, oh no.” Bakugou’s frustration morphed into true malicious intent, his mouth quivering as a smirk stretched across his lips. “You torture me? I’m about to make sure you go through hell until I’m satisfied.”
“What? You can’t torture your own body, Katsuki-- Ah! Wait, no, don’t sit on my face, I- mmph!”
“I’m not in my body right now, Utsuro. I’ll do whatever I want to you until you’re fucking begging for me to stop. Now drink up, I’m sure you’re thirsty after that huge fucking load. And look, you are already hard again. No matter what body you’re in, you’re nothing but a slut… and I’m going to treat you like one.”
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Dead of Night
Jerza Vampire! AU One-shot
Inspired by the suggestion from @jasnoor-kaur I realized Jerza needs love an attention bc their ship is so pure so this is my attempt at it! I’ve never written about Jerza before and this turned into something kinda long but I hope you enjoy it and maybe I'll make a little one shot series or something !!
Erza stood at the tree line with the moon as her only light. The forest behind her was teeming with the sounds of the night eventually erupting into a symphony as she waited. In front of her was an open field with tall grass with a path that led to the main road. It usually didn’t take that long for him to show up, but she couldn’t worry, Jellal was quite good at taking care of himself. She didn’t jump when the trees above rustled and force impacted the ground behind her.
“You’re late, did something hold you up?” She asked casually, turning around to see the blue haired vampire behind her. He glowed under the moonlight as he stood, his red eyes looking at her with hesitation.
“My apologies,” He brushed off his coat, “something did keep me.” He said, his tone harder than normal. Something was off and Erza sensed it immediately as she approached him.
“Did something happen? Are Natsu and Juvia okay?” She asked regarding their friends that had been a part of Jellal’s undercover mission for some time now.
Jellal looked away, his eyes distant, “They’re safe. I thought you’d already know. You should’ve known when you killed her.”
Erza understood suddenly and her eyes widened. She took in a breath before responding, “I see, so what’s the Order’s next move?”
Jellal directed his eyes to her incredulously, “That’s your response? How can you be so casual?” His fists clenched, “They want you dead Erza, they want the life to drain from your eyes. Not only that, but they’ve ordered me to do it.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised by his words, but his reaction surprised her all the same. Before that moment things had been going fine and on schedule, but now there was a complication in their plan. Erza was a hunter, not to any specific degree, although recently those of the Order were calling her Titania, the vampire hunter. She was a member of the most dangerous hunting guild across Fiore, Fairy Tail. With the help of her comrades they took on countless different creatures that threatened the lives of humanity and doing so put an obvious target on their heads. Erza had been trained to deal with different types of creatures and climbed up to S class when she was only 14.
Humans had an ongoing fight for centuries with the vampires, unfortunately there were vampire nobles who thought they were above all other beings. An Order was created as a place for those nobles to share their ideas to conquer humans. They were known as the Blood Order and almost every human alive feared their reign. The Order had many powerful vampires that possessed incredible gifts and their ranks grew everyday.
That being said, there were plenty of vampires that wanted to live with humans, even admired them so much that they became vegetarians and only consumed animal blood. Even Natsu Dragneel, one of Erza’s closest friends since she was a child, had been turned into a vampire. Yet he still remained on the side of humanity and a part of the Fairy Tail guild. Jellal was also one of those vampires. He had come up with the idea to infiltrate and gather intel from the Blood Order with both Natsu and one of Fairy Tail’s other members, Juvia Lockser, insisted on joining since they too were vampires. Even while they were supposed to be enemies it didn’t change how Erza cared for Jellal.
Wherever she went he was always watching. When she was visiting the bars downtown, going shopping at the marketplace, or walking the trail home through the forest. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but there was a fear he felt inside of the day that she needed help and he was too late. He, over everyone, knew the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the forests. With the Order being so widespread and the target on her head so coveted, he felt compelled to protect her.
Jellal had walked the road of darkness for decades and he had accepted it. He committed heinous crimes against humanity, immoral acts for the Blood Order, and fed on those of innocent blood and youth. There was a time where his loneliness and cost of his sins drove him to want to be evil, to enjoy killing and succumb to the darkness creatures like him were inevitably enshrouded in. But somewhere along the way, someone changed that. In the time he felt the most lost, he was found.
He could still remember the first time that he saw her in front of him. He was giving in to his thirst that night and almost devoured a young man in the forest when he sensed the scent of even more delectable human blood. His fangs were bared and as he turned around to change his prey he was stopped.
In the moonlight, so delicate yet so brave, the woman with red hair stood gripping her arm in pain. She was shaking so hard that it seemed she was about to drop the knife coated in her blood, yet even in agony she pointed at him with a stern glare. He swallowed hard, nothing but the wind made a sound. Her scarlet hair flowed underneath the light and touched his tainted black soul. After spending years trying to atone for his sins, dying by her hand didn’t seem so bad. He was ready to accept that fate over all others and stayed still in place on the ground where he knelt.
Something must’ve changed her mind, because within seconds she cast the knife down to the side and approached him. He was so struck with shock that he didn’t even feel the burning sensation of thirst anymore. She took her bloodied hand off of her wound and standing above him she cupped his face. Her eyes appeared to be soft, full of sorrow, yet she was still smiling.
“It really is you..”
That was all she said, and all she needed to say. He was so captivated that he would follow her to the ends of the earth. She had grown into such a beautiful young woman that if he could blush, he would’ve.
“You.. know me?” He asked skeptically trying to remember where a gorgeous being such as her would’ve seen him.
She chuckled brushing her red hair from her face, “Of course I do. I knew from the moment I saw you I would never forget.”
He stood abruptly and pulled her hand off of him, “What are you..” he remembered the blood on his hands and mouth, “Don’t look at me, I didn’t want you to see-”
“You don’t think I know?” She interrupted with her tone remaining soft. “You saved me then, and got me to safety.”
Then he realized that it was her, the infamous Erza Scarlet, but the moment she was talking about was before that. It was the night that the Blood Order had decided to choose a small village on the outskirts of the country for their ceremonial feeding. The vampire nobles had come up with a sick way of getting the specially chosen vampires fed by holding a cultist ceremony before purging a village of innocent people. In their minds they were rewarding their strongest members who benefitted the Order by gathering recruits, slaves, or intel and Jellal almost always got chosen. It was sick and immoral but it fed the hungry demon inside of every vampire, including him. To prepare for the ceremony, the chosen vampires were to go as long as possible without feeding to induce the ultimate level of thirst. This ensured that the entire village would be destroyed, and every drop of blood shed.
Fires had broken out and soon enough the whole village was aflame as vampires attacked the people trying to flee. Erza was one of those people but still a child at the time which made her significantly slower than the others. She ran as fast as she could but she wasn’t quick enough to outrun the vampires. Her body smacked into one of the higher ranks and she was thrown to the ground on impact. The vampire before her was called Zero and he was a ruthless killer amongst the Order. He held no care for human life, like animals to the slaughter.
Erza cowered in the ground trying to crawl backwards away from his figure looming over her. The moment he went to grab her and end her life Jellal threw himself in front of her. He grabbed onto Zero’s hands and growled against his strength.
Zero was surprised by this, since it was against the Law of the Order. No vampire had ever protected a human, “Jellal?! What the hell are you doing?!”
He couldn’t speak, Jellal was working against the will of his thirst and if he lost focus he might end up hurting Erza. This berserk mode was the most dangerous state of a vampire, but also their strongest. Their desire to consume blood takes over their minds and bodies becoming something truly worse than just a vampire. Erza watched the scene unfold before her knowing that the blue haired man was also a vampire, but not knowing why he was protecting her.
Zero had claws much like a beast as part of his gift and he was strong enough to tear through human bodies. Jellal was carefully dodging his moves using his immense strength to throw and smash him to the ground repeatedly. Nearby there was a strong scent of blood that smelled so good it distracted both Jellal and Zero.
Both tried to resist the thirst to focus on their fight and Jellal paid the price for letting his guard down. He had turned around to check that it wasn’t the girl who was bleeding and Zero lunged himself towards with his claws. Erza yelped suddenly, “Look out!!”
Jellal was able to send himself backwards just in time to not take the full brunt of Zero’s attack but he was still slashed by the five claws. Jellal cried out in pain and fell to the ground holding his abdomen.
“TRAITOR! I’ll kill you for protecting a scum human!!” Zero bellowed continuing his attack.
Unfortunately for Zero, those were the last words he ever spoke.
In the dead of night he snapped Zero’s head off. Jellal had no choice but to kill his own kind and burn the body, or else he would tell the Order of his treason. It was only until after Zero’s body was burning did he pick up Erza and bring her into the woods all while his mind was swimming. He wanted to drain her of blood, he wanted to save her, the contradicting thoughts and intense pain he felt were probably the only thing keeping her alive. When she was far enough away Jellal set her down and stumbled as he started to lose focus.
“Get out of here!” He pleaded, “Hurry, run and don’t look back! Don’t trust anyone!” During that whole time he had barely looked at her but for a second he caught a glimpse of her scarlet hair.
“No, you need help! You were hurt badly because of me.. I have to help you!!” She protested coming closer.
Jellal didn’t have time to be shocked that not only a human, but a little girl wanted to help him, “NO, please, I’ll be fine just g-go.. I’ll heal on my own. R-Run..before they find you..”
Erza had tears in her eyes and stayed there for a moment longer on her knees, “T-Thank you..”
Once she said that she got up and immediately started running away wiping her eyes as she did. He looked up to the night sky and thought of the trouble he would be in, and he couldn’t find it in him to care. He stayed there through the night remembering her gratitude and the way she looked at him, like he wasn’t a monster.
After that night, Jellal wanted to be better than what he was so that he could start atoning for all the sins he had committed. He began freeing blood slaves of the Order and killing vampires of the lower ranks to shave off numbers. No one ever suspected that he was working against them, they even thought he was responsible for organizing new recruits. He tried feeding off animals instead and the transition was sickening at first, but became bearable over time. However, from time to time his thirst woke again for human blood and he would either fight or give in. That’s how they were able to meet again. She stood before him a true warrior, fearless, selfless, and stunning.
“I’m a monster Erza, you shouldn’t be here. We were never supposed to meet again.” He said shamefully, turning his head away.
“But that’s a lie. We were supposed to meet again because you never stopped looking after me. I know you were there, even if you thought I didn’t.” She said, pulling him back to her.
Jellal gulped having never been backed into a corner, “I-I was just making sure you were alright.”
Erza raised her brow, “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you come out?”
“I didn’t think it mattered to you.. I’m not someone you should be associated with. I’m with the Blood Order, I’m much more of a monstrosity than you think.” He cringed thinking of how he must have looked when she first saw him.
“That’s another lie. You saved me that night, you took me somewhere I could be safe, you’ve watched over me, that has nothing to do with being in the Order or being a vampire.” Her eyes were hard, unwavering, “If you were truly evil you would’ve just killed me. Instead you controlled yourself and rescued me from certain death. On top of that I know you’ve been working against the Order. I know you feel the same way I feel, so you have to think of what you want to be instead of what you think you are.”
He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was stare at her while her words captivated him. Erza looked to the blood on her hand, “Look at you now. I’m standing in front of you dripping in blood and you haven’t done a thing. I know there is goodness in you, Jellal. Stop making yourself believe that you're something you’re not.”
“I..can’t walk in the light like you do, Erza. That just comes with being who I am.” He paused and noticed her glare deepening, “But, maybe I’ll try to..become something better. Especially if I have your support.”
The smile in her eyes did more than just lift his spirit. It truly motivated him to become someone she could walk with, someone she might care for. Maybe that was when he fell in love.
From that night on Erza and Jellal met in the town at least once a week, sometimes more often, to get him used to being around humans. It was easy for him from the start, whenever he was with her he could care less about anything else around him. She even introduced him to all of her friends she had met through Fairy Tail and even they accepted him almost as quickly as she did. When he felt hungry Erza, and the other vampires from Fairy Tail, would help him hunt. It amazed him that Erza had become stronger than he ever imagined she would.
It started to concern Jellal how much time he spent with Erza. His feelings only grew for her the more time they shared. He tried forcing himself to stay away, to leave and hunt for longer periods of time. But none of that created a solution for his love of her. Someone as dark as him, could never be with someone so pure. That was why he came up with the plan in the first place. Infiltrating the Blood Order alongside Fairy Tail helped Erza towards her goal. His mission with Natsu and Juvia continuously fed the guild with information so Erza was always able to position their forces in the ideal places for attacking.
For a while it went unnoticed and Erza’s bounty would rise from time to time. She had triggered the Blood Order the moment she killed Kyoyka, one of the highest ranking vampires. They met unexpectedly while Erza was trying to evacuate the next village to be used for a ceremonial feeding. When Jellal saw Kyoyka’s head burning on the ground he knew there was no turning back. Now that Erza had killed one of the higher ups, her bounty turned into an assassination plot.
“They want you to kill me..” Erza finally answered.
“I won’t do it! I would never hurt you, you have to believe me Erza,” he took her hands in his chilling ones, “please, you must kill me instead.”
Erza stepped back in shock throwing his hands down, “Are you insane?! What good is it going to do if I kill you?! The Order is going to come after me regardless, let them send someone else.”
“I wish it was that easy, but I think they’ve been suspecting me for a while. If I don’t do this the infiltration mission is over and we’ll be caught. You have to do this Erza.” Jellal insisted as he stared into her eyes.
She raged on, “No! I won’t. I refuse to have you throw your existence away for some Order. That would be pointless!”
Jellal clenched his fist, “I’m just trying to protect you! If that means giving up this meaningless immortality then I couldn’t care less.”
“You shouldn’t want to give up your life if you're trying to protect something, you should live to be there! Killing you isn’t the solution here, besides how dare you ever think that’s something I could ever do!” Erza retaliated with a voice full of passion.
“Erza, I.. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I’d rather go in your place.” Jellal said, casting his eyes down. He felt defeated and utterly useless. Everything he tried to build was about to fall and this was the breaking point.
“Coward! Instead of dying for me why don’t you fight with me?! This world won’t be able to change without you, my world will never last if you aren’t in it! Stop talking about things out of sorrow and let’s both look up for our future!” She threw her hands up, “Forget about the infiltration, we have all the intel we need. Now I need you, I need you to be by my side and come be where you belong. This is the time to turn the tide Jellal, not the time to give up.”
Jellal’s eyes went wide listening to how her voice never wavered, she held no hesitations, no reservations. She wanted to fight with him, she said she needed him. The future, he never truly thought about the future. He was always dwelling on the past, focused on molding the present, that he never stopped to think about what comes after. In every place he could recall the one common thing pushing him forward towards the future without him even knowing it, was Erza. Her light, the radiance in her heart was able to act as a beacon for him to follow, to move forward to. It was clear to him at that moment why he felt the need to protect her, why he relied on her very existence. She was the one pulling him towards the path those like her walked, the path of light. She was the one he fell in love with.
For as long as he had existed he didn’t believe it was possible to escape the darkness of the shadows, the evil he was programmed to have, but she showed him it was attainable. She believed in him and was willing to fight at his side for a future where they could be together, so he would too.
“Erza..” he said picking up her hands while his undead heart felt like it could catapult from his chest, “I want to ask you something.” He watched her blush and her whole demeanor switched.
“If we fight together, will you stay by my side and let me protect you?” He asked while his mind swirled in an endless whirlpool of thoughts.
She nodded, “Of course. Until my last breath, I want to be by your side.”
Jellal felt a tingle in his chest and cleared his throat trying to regain his coolness, “Erza, what I really need to say is.. I-I can’t have a future without you. I have to have you with me, I want to live in a world where I can make you smile everyday. If that's the future we can both fight for together, then I want it more than anything.”
Erza’s hands trembled in his, “Jellal.. Are you..”
“Yes.” He started firmly, “I need you to know why I would give it all for you. I couldn’t help falling in love with you. I tried to stay away, just to help you in whatever ways I could from the shadows. But you have made me want to be in the light because without you, I’d have nothing.”
Before he even finished speaking Erza had thrown herself into his arms,“J-Jellal.. Why would you do that?” She asked quietly.
If he could blush, he would be red like her hair. “I thought I didn’t deserve you.. Vampires are meant to be predators..killers. I wanted to become better, maybe you could see me as something more. But regardless, I’ll still be here whether or not you feel the same.” He responded, cracking a smile at her.
“Idiot. You’re an idiot.” She said with her face in his chest. His eyes went wide when she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “I thought I was going to die before you told me that.”
Jellal was in utter shock. He had never seen her cry like this, and she was crying because of him. “Erza..I..”
Her fingers curled into his coat putting her head back down, “You might live forever, but I don’t have that time. I’ve waited.. for you to realize that I’m the one who fell in love with you first.”
He shook his head in disbelief but she continued anyways, “I didn’t want to push you, I didn’t want you to not be ready. But then I started to worry that you would never be ready, that I would die and never get to share my love with you.. I’m just glad, you feel like you can finally love others and even, me.”
The moonlight lit up her face the next time she looked up, and she smiled. Her hands lifted and she cupped his face admiring the realization in his eyes. Jellal’s hand slid against her cheek and she didn’t react to the chill. She nuzzled into it and pulled him down to her slowly with all the stars in the sky to watch.
He let her draw him in and fell slave to the way her lips parted in the darkness. In seconds, he received more bliss than over a hundred years of living. He felt her soft lips send him into nirvana, a feeling that even drinking blood couldn’t give him. Each of them couldn’t help but want more of the other. There was nothing else on his mind, not blood, not the Order, not himself, just her. His hand slipped behind her head cradling her in their kiss all while he was able to touch her smooth red hair holding in his grip. He was gentle with her, but his passion was stirring his supernatural strength.
Her hands were on his chest when he pulled back from her. She was breathless, and so blushed before him. He had never seen a woman like this before him. If he were alive he would be feeling those same sensations.
“I-I’m sorry.. I-” She kissed him again, just for another moment to cut him off from useless apologies.
She rested her nose against his like she was going to kiss him again, but remained still with their foreheads touching, “I love you Jellal, I always have.”
Fireflies began to glow around them, never in his life had he been able to feel so much happiness. “I promise you won’t have to wait for me any longer. You alone..have given me the strength to conquer anything.”
In that moment, everything was perfect. It didn’t take long for that moment to end.
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A/N: Hey everybody, Omens here. This series is part of my series for the (Y/N)’s. These works are here to establish the backgrounds, personalities, and such of each of my (Y/N)’s, as they’re all separate characters and not a blank slate.
So far, I’m doing my three most popular requested ones which are; Hanzo, Mcree, and Genji. This is Mcree’s. I’m sure these works will have about 3-4 chapters each, with the first being the beginning of their life, to the last being present time. That being said, you don’t have to default to these (Y/N)’s either. If you have a request that’s specific like
‘Mcree with an S/O who has a body like Genji?’. I will easily do that. These (Y/N)’s are just the default if you request something vague such as ‘Mcree goes on a date with (Y/N).’ and such.
However, I do have placeholder names for each of these characters. If you would like a request with this specific (Y/N) you can use (Y/N)!Ambrose. Sorry if this was confusing but :)
| Chapter 2 - Dirty Shoes|
Chapter Summary: They say your childhood flies by faster than your adulthood. That is true. They say that you should do the things you enjoy while your young. That is also true.
They also say that there’s no such thing as monsters under your bed. That’s not true.
!WARNING! This work contains graphic depictions of violence, foul language, and other sensitive topics. Reader discretion is advised.
The Arcana Masterlist
Ask Box (Requests are CLOSED!)
“They broke my wings, but forgot I had claws.”
Your entire life, you had spent it being common. You had a 'common' sob story of losing your parents in the omnic crisis. You had the 'common' new blood mark. You wanted to be special, you wanted people to notice you. You didn't know that this wish would cost your humanity, however.
!WARNING! This chapter contains blood, violence, and death. Please proceed with caution.
Song: Dancing with the devil - Set it off
It was 9:30 at night when you had received the call from Holland. You had just gotten home to your small apartment which you shared with your (crappy) roommate. The familiar made you pull the phone from your pocket immediately.
"Hey (Y/N)! It's been a while, huh?"
You chuckle, twirling your car keys on your ring finger. "Yeah." You began, leaning against the door. "College has been busy, how have you been?" You ask, recognizing the voice immediately, your day improving instantly from this call.
"Ah, I've been better," Holland says. "I've been so busy, so I figured I wanted to go down to a bar to loosen up a little. Wanna come?"
"Sure, which one?"
"The one that opened up two months ago?"
"Hell yeah, a lot of people are saying their food is good, and apparently most of their staff are nice to look at too."
You roll your eyes, turning around and grabbing the door handle.
You're halfway out the door when you ask; "I'm guessing you want to go now?"
"Hell yeah I do, I wanna pick up some chicks."
You fake a gagging noise, locking the door behind you. "Don't ever say that again, please."
"So, you want me to meet you there?"
"I bet I can beat you." You say.
"You're forgetting I can walk really fast."
"And you're forgetting that I own a car." You retort as Holland sputters over the phone before hanging up.
Just as you expected, you showed up at the bar before Holland did. Not that he minded, of course, it would be fun to tease Holland for being late.
Soon, you see a bus roll up across the street, various passengers coming off. There, you see Holland in all his glory, just as you expected.
Same pale skin, with freckles littering his face, same round eyes, flushed cheeks, and bright cyan hair. He's wearing a nice jean jacket, a white and black striped shirt, with jeans and Adidas. His face immediately brightens as he crosses the street and sees you.
"Since when did you drive?" He asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.
"Since I got my driver's license back sophomore year of college." You reply, rustling his hair.
You two enter the rustic bar, taking a seat as Holland orders two drinks.
"So, has college been pummeling you into the ground?" Holland asks.
You shrug. "Well...kinda. Speaking in front of the class still makes me nervous...but I'm gonna have to do it if I wanna be an art history teacher."
Holland leans back in the chair, sighing.
"Hm, the exact opposite of me then," He muses. "I've been buried in work, might as well dig my own grave with the papers I still have to finish."
You shake your head as the glasses are passed to you two.
You down the drink in one gulp, as Holland, mimics you. The two of you slam your glasses on the counter, as Holland chuckles.
"So, other than college kicking us in the ass, how have you been?"
"Pretty good I guess. Roommate's nice."
"Okay, he sucks ass, but he helps pay rent so, y'know. He stays."
"Thank god he does. If he didn't I would've hauled his ass into the nearest dumpster."
"He's three times your size."
"So? No man is safe from a kick in the balls."
This time, you laugh, throwing your head back in the process.
"Have you called your moms yet?"
Holland scoffs. "Have I? No, have they? Yes, every day."
Holland shakes his head.
"I love them really, it's mainly just them showing me their dog doing stupid stuff like barking at the wall." Holland pauses. "What about yours?"
There's hesitance. Holland raises an eyebrow.
Your face contorts. "It's just...Mrs.Parkiston is in the hospital."
Holland's eyes widen. "Oh god. I'm sorry (Y/N). Why didn't you tell me?"
You shrug. "Didn't wanna bother you. She'll be fine, she's tough as nails."
Holland frowns. "Are you sure...you don't wanna talk about it?"
You nod slightly, swirl your drink around in your hand, watching the ice swim in circles.
Holland nods his head slowly and asks for a refill.
"Woah there, don't wanna make yourself drunk, Holls."
"Hey now, I'm a grown man. I can handle a drink or two."
This time, it's you who shakes your head.
"Damn, it's almost midnight," Holland mutters, gesturing to his watch. "Think we should call it a night?"
"Depends. Do you have classes tomorrow?"
"Only one, but it's at 5ish."
"Ha! I have no classes, so why don't we go somewhere else?"
"Like a movie?"
"With you and your loud mouth? We'd get kicked out during the movie trailers." You tease, and Holland huffs. You place your card on the counter, and spin around, surveying the rest of the bar. It's mostly empty, minus the small frail woman on the couch in the far corner of the room.
You raise an eyebrow, upon seeing the woman being approached by a man. Your nose crinkles as the man practically forces the woman to her feet and begins to walk out the door with the man.
\You pause, as the man turns to you, and for a second you feel your heart drop to your stomach, your skin turning cold. The man's eyes are wide, the lighting surely makes them red, and the blood veins are bright as ever. The minute this man looks away, that feeling is gone.
"Hey Holland, are you done yet?" You ask, trying to not stumble over your words, as you take your card back from the barista.
Holland turns to you. "Yeah, why?"
"Did that woman enter the bar with anyone?"
Holland pauses, as you gesture to the woman who's giggling and nearly falling to her feet, just outside the door.
The woman is pulled away and the two begin to walk down the street, past the window. Holland turns to you.
"I know that look (Y/N)."
You're already out the door as Holland races to catch up with you, as you walk down the street, eyes peeled.
"(Y/N), she probably called someone to pick her up-"
"I don't know, Holland. That guy looked at me, and his eyes were all...all bloodshot! I felt so cold, you don't get like that looking at somebody-"
"(Y/N), you're probably just a bit tipsy-"
"I had two drinks-"
The two of you pause before you hear a shout escape through the air. Holland freezes, exchanging a look with you.
"Don't you dare-!"
Before he finishes you take off running towards the sound of the scream. Holland is shouting behind you, but you don't hear it as you slide to a stop on the outside of the alleyway.
You feel your jaw become slacked, your gaze fixated on the black heels on a woman's legs. The legs twitch once. The figure above the body making smacking noises as they lay hunched over her upper body.
"H-hey!" You shout.
The man turns around, and your eyes go wide. Red drips down the man's mouth, and you know damn well that the man's teeth is much longer than normal. His eyes are beet red, pupils blown wide, and his skin is so pale, it's practically white and glittering off of the flickering street light above you.
You slowly peer down at the woman's face, your heart pounding in your chest. Two holes are in the woman's neck, more blood pooling down the wounds and onto the concrete below. Her eyes are wide and glossed over.
"W-what the hell did you do!" You shout, the man doesn't move.
You hear footsteps behind you.
"(Y/N)? Seriously, just-Holy shit!"
Holland stumbles at the scene before you. As the man slowly stands up.
He's muttering under his breath as Holland grips your shoulder.
"Y-Y/N, we should...we should get outta here-!"
The man screeches before launching at you two. One hand coming forward to grasp your plaid shirt, and the other grabbing Holland by his hair. The two of you are thrown into the alleyway, and Holland screeches as he lands on the woman's body.
He scrambles, practically on top of you.
"Oh god, we're gonna die...(Y/N) we're gonna die-" Holland trembled.
"We're not gonna die, Holland." You hiss.
The man, who has blood dripping onto his t-shirt, hisses.
You shove Holland to the side, and the man slams face-first into the dumpster. There are two holes where his teeth were, and you look around the area.
Your hands dart across the ground, scrambling to find something of use, and your fingertips brush against something. You pull out a....bag...from under the dumpster?
The man screeches and dives at Holland this time, Holland cries out as he's wrestled onto the floor. His legs kick out, and all over the place, trying to kick the man off. Holland has his arms on the man's shoulders, who lashes out and snaps at him like a dog.
"Call the cops (Y/N) holy shit!"
You reach into your pocket, but don't feel your phone nor your car keys. "They're gone!"
Holland screams as the man snaps at his face.
"Then just do something!" Holland yells.
You tear open the bag and with that, your eyes widen.
"What the hell..." You mutter, grabbing the piece of wood and grasping it in your hand. There's a strange symbol on the top of it. You don't recognize any of it.
The man stops, snapping his head towards you so harshly that you hear it. You make eye contact with the man, but this time you don't freeze. The wood feels hot in your hand, almost driving away the cold, and your entire body seems to get a rush from this.
The man jumps at you, your eyes flicker to the wood.
You're slammed into the wall by the man, who shouts when you plunge the wood directly into his shoulder. You pull it out again as he staggers back. His eyes go fully red, and you hear cracking noises.
The man- no, this thing attacks you again, grabbing your wrist and twisting.
You shout out as the wood drops from your hands, and the man wrestles you to the ground. Jaw snapping.
"Ah! Holland do something!"
There isn't a response from Holland at first, but the man pauses for a second, sputtering. You cry out as you see the pierced end of the stake go through the man's chest, forcing blood onto your clothes.
You shove the man's body off of you. This thing sputters, his eyes slowly meeting your own.
He reaches a frail hand out before you hear the blood drip onto the concrete, and his bloody hands smear finger marks on your cheek. The man collapses onto the ground.
Holland breathes out heavily.
"Holy...did...did I just kill that guy!"
"You...You didn't mean to! Right?"
"Of-of course not! He kept moving too much and I just went for it I-" Holland grabs fistfuls of his hair. "Holy fuck (Y/N)! Now we're screwed, we're so screwed!"
For a moment, you're stunned. There's blood on you, you know there's blood on you.
"We...We should call someone." You quavered, feeling your body tremble as you step back into the wall.
"And tell them what? 'Hey my friend and I just got back from a bar and killed a guy who killed a woman! Ooh! And we also killed him with a fucking stake from Home Depot!"
You make a face at Holland, who gestures wildly at the wood.
"I don't know (Y/N)! I could go to jail for this, we're ruined-! So ruined-"
"Holland calm down."
"Calm down!" Holland roars. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down-!"
Holland pauses, the anger turning to shock, eyes going wide.
You raise an eyebrow and slowly turn towards the bodies. The man's body slowly becomes bright, before it fades to dust, leaving his destroyed clothes behind. Just as the man's body disappears, the woman does as well. Not leaving any trace of evidence behind. The concrete is clean of any blood.
"What. the. Fuck." Holland mutters. "This is some supernatural type shit."
There's a tense silence shared between you two. You grab the stake, and the bag, and swing it over your shoulder.
"We're leaving, now."
Holland's eyes widen.
"Holland, let's go!"
You harshly grab his wrist as you two run down the street, you see Holland's gaze never leave the alleyway as you two run. Before he faces the ground, his lower lip is bitten. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was on the verge of tears.
You slam the front door to your apartment, and let out heavy breaths.
"Now...now what." Holland whispers. "Are we going insane or something? Maybe...Maybe we had too much to drink?"
While Holland tries to rationalize what just happened, you sigh and shut your eyes.
You softly guide Holland to the couch right to the door. He sits down, hands over his mouth, eyes flicking left and right.
You place the bag on the coffee table before you.
Holland puts his head in his hands as you turn to the bag. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slowly unzip the bag.
"Jesus, what the hell is all of this?" You ask, slowly grabbing the large wooden cross with your left hand, and a smaller stake with your right.
Holland slowly uncovers his face.
Holland shoves past you, whilst you shout out a 'Hey!'. You reach into the bag and pull out a white bottle, as well as a rolled-up piece of paper.
"Holy water?" Holland mutters, as he places it on the coffee table and unravels the paper.
He snickers. "Jeez, d&d nerd much?"
He nudges you in the side, as you raise an eyebrow.
"Why is that guy on a wanted poster."
You crinkle your nose. "Jeez, they really did him wrong. Look at his nose."
Holland smiles. "look...his teeth too."
"Cain Soloman." Holland reads. "Vampire lord....19 grand for live...capture..."
Holland tosses the paper onto the coffee table.
"I'd say that was a load o' bull, but...you know I'd be lying."
You place the stake and the cross down.
"Is there anything else in there?" Holland began. You shrug, opening the bag wide.
"Nope, that's it."
Holland shakes his head.
"Who would leave a backpack with all of this stuff under a dumpster anyways though?"
"It's not a backpack."
"Then why does it look like one?"
You let out an exasperated sigh.
"Do you...really think that thing was a vampire?" You ask, hesitantly.
"Probably." Holland leans back, head aimed towards the ceiling. "Makes sense. The eyes, teeth, super strength, dead woman with the two holes in her neck."
"He turned into dust after you stabbed him, that woman disappeared too, blood and all!" Holland adds. "Holy crap we're in deep!"
"I always wanted to be a sorcerer when I was a kid and fight monsters, but I didn't think that'd actually happen," Holland mutters.
Holland groans and puts his hands on his face again, as you turn to the bag. You pick it up and zip it up again, fingers lightly brushing the stitched symbol on the top.
"Hey, Holland. Recognize this?"
Holland sits up and stares at the golden stitch and shrugs. "I'm a doctor (Y/N). Isn't this up to your alley?"
"I was just asking for a second opinion," You reply. "It's not Egyptian. I can tell you that. Definitely not kanji either."
"Then what the hell is it?"
You analyze for a moment, your eyes going wide.
"It looks like a really straight 'M'."
You pout as Holland throws his hands in front of his chest.
"What! It does?"
You shake your head, opening the bag again.
"C'mon, let's put this stuff away."
"And then what?"
"I'll just toss it in the trash tomorrow."
"Alright." Holland whispers. "Then what?"
"I...we should just pretend it didn't happen?"
There's a silence shared between the two of you, as Holland fidgets, but slowly nods his head.
"yeah...I...I guess so."
"You uh...wanna stay over?" You ask, hesitantly.
"Yeah, I...I'd like that. Don't wanna get attacked by any uh..vengeful vampires right?"
It's about 6:50 in the morning, and you still haven't gotten any sleep. You hear Holland tossing and turning in the sleeping bag on the floor next to your bed. You aren't sure if he's asleep or not, but don't want to bother him and risk waking him up if you do ask.
Instead, you stare at the ceiling, eyes never leaving the fan that blows a soft, cool breeze onto your face.
You put a hand over your eyes as the sun peaks through the cracks of your curtains. It seems that sleep is escaping you tonight. So, you sit up, stretch and swear you hear your back crack as you do so.
You carefully roll out of bed, tip-toeing over Holland. Making your way towards the bathroom, you turn the light on.
You make eye contact with yourself in the mirror before letting out a shout and stumbling backward.
Holland bursts upright as you make contact with the floor.
"Wh-what! I'm up!"
"Why do I have a tattoo?"
"What are you talking about-HOLY SHIT!"
Holland makes eye contact with your chest, seeing the three large, black rings plastered on your left pec.
"Uh, okay then," Holland mutters. "Did you have...have that last night?"
"No." You cry out, sitting up and turning to him. "And I- oh Jesus you have one too-!"
"I'm sorry wh-holy hell I do-!"
You gesture to the very large eye tattoo on Holland's shoulder.
"Did-did you feel anything strange before you went to bed?" Holland mutters.
"No! No I didn't...did you?"
"No! I fell right asleep!"
Your fingers softly trace the eye on Holland's shoulder.
"This...could this be from last night?"
"Unless there's a boogeyman who likes to give random strangers weird tattoos while they're sleeping, I-"
The two of you freeze as you hear the doorbell ring. You make eye contact as you scramble to get to your feet. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and an undershirt, while Holland looks out the window.
"Oh shit, are those the cops."
Your eyes widen.
"Oh fuck me! Those are the cops!" Holland yells. "Well, it's been nice knowing you, pal. Hopefully, we'll be roommates in prison!"
You roll your eyes as you open the bedroom door, and make your way down the stairs. You hear another set of footsteps behind you.
However, as your hand ghosts over the doorknob, you see Holland in the hallway, hands over his mouth. He motions for you to go forward as he hides behind the wall further.
You scoff, muttering 'pussy' under your breath before you open the door.
The man and the woman turn to you, eyes widen.
"You're (Y/N) Parkinston? Correct?"
You nod. "Yes, I am."
"Good...Good. Can we come in?"
You step aside, letting the two enter the apartment.
The woman smiles.
"Ah! There's your bag!" She chippers as she races towards the bag and lifts it up.
She then pauses.
"Who opened this?"
You freeze, as the two people turn to you.
"I did it!" Holland calls out. "He-he had nothing to do with it I swear!"
The man and woman pause. The woman opens the bag and immediately pulls out the stake, eyes widening at the dried blood on the tip.
"You did this?"
Holland hesitantly nods, before the man narrows his gaze at Holland.
The woman turns to the man. "I can't find the contract."
"Means it's been completed. By civilians nonetheless."
The woman scoffs. "This is gonna be a tone of paperwork, Jason."
The woman frowns.
"What? He's got a marking anyways."
The woman pauses, turning to Holland, and nearly drops the bag in shock. She shoves past you, rather rudely at that, and you narrow your gaze at this.
She grabs Holland by the arms and examines the eye tattoo.
"This is! This is the eye! Oh my gosh, it's been so long since I've seen a new blood with one of these!"
Holland raises an eyebrow.
The woman turns to you.
"Did you...get one by any chance?"
You hesitantly nod, pulling your undershirt down to show the rings. However, the woman frowns.
"Aw." But her grin comes back again.
"New bloods! It's been so long since there have been new bloods?"
Holland raises an eyebrow as you fidget.
The woman giggles. "You see, we are monster hunters!"
Silence goes through the apartment.
Jason groans. "And, whenever a new monster hunter or hunters, in this case, is chosen, they are given a marking that explains their best abilities."
He gestures to Holland. "You, have the eye symbol. It means your powerful, confident, independent. It's rare to see a new blood be gifted one of those."
He then turns to you. You fidget slightly.y
"You have the rings. Fairly common, typically means teamwork, marriage, and all that jazz."
"Wait wait wait. Backup a minute." You interrupt. "So, monsters are real?"
"Yes," Tassy said.
"And we just killed one. So that makes us monster hunters."
"Holy crap." You mutter.
"Congratulations! Pack your stuff boys, and make sure to travel lightly, because it's safer for you to stay on base!"
"You could get mauled by a werewolf...sacrificed to a vengeful god by an evil cult...made into a thrall by a vampire, the list goes on and on," Tassy says.
"Jesus Christ," Holland mutters.
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