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#soul swear a bit more than heart but still not too much & if anything does it more as a goof or to overly express things
sneeb-canons · 5 months
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mind swears more than anyone else. soul comes close in competition, but they do it within reason, while mind swears so much, so inconveniently, that "fuck" doesn't even sound like a real word anymore
Headcanon #259
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melodrangea · 6 months
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Nicknames Soul Eaters Boys call their S/O
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Soul “Eater” Evans
sweetheart
he says this extremely sarcastically, especially during training
“C’mon sweetheart, is that all you got? I saw you lift twice as much yesterday.”
doll
often uses it in a more formal setting or when he’s trying to tease
“What’s the matter doll? Cat got your tongue?”
He’s a little menace but he’s our menace <3
babe
most common out of the three
you name DOES NOT exist to this man
no name, no nickname, nothing
“Babe can I borrow your notes. Babe where do you wanna go later? BABE”
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Black Star
n/n or another variation of you name
doesn’t really use pet names much (sorry babes)
why words words on pet names? he’s way too blunt and if he’s feeling something he’ll just say it, not waste time on fancy words or pet names
(that’s what he tells himself being fr he’s not creative enough as much as I love him)
babe
mostly used around friends (this dumbass thinks he’s being smug)
“hey babe wasn’t going out yesterday awesome? I mean since we’re so inlove and everything.”
the little shit would make your relationship EVERYONE ELSE’S problem (no one is safe 😭)
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Death the Kid
Darling
this pretentious hipster
is fairly consistent with the pet names he uses but darling is his favorite
“Darling can you please pass me that book there?”
“Are you alright darling?”
my dear
uses this one without realizing it most of the time
will be chilling in the library studying and will half-consciously call for you
“are you almost done?”
“just a few minutes more my dear, then we can go”
you chuckled, “what did you call me”
“what do you mean, what did I call you?”
love
Kid is a romantic at heart, very classy as well
he would stare into your eyes and call you love
“my love you have no clue how much I love you.”
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Crona Gorgon
honey
you would call him honey bunny as a joke and he loved it so he started calling you honey
would always have the cutest blush in his face when he said it too
“o-oh thank you honey :)” (cutie patootie 💋)
dear
would definitely take him a while to start calling this, but when he does 🤌💋
“are you alright if we stay a little longer dear? It’s been a while since we’ve seen the others”
being fr this poor soul would be TERRIFIED to call you something other than your name or a variation for A WHILE
his brains running six times the speed 🏃🏼
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Professor Stein
this sadistic mf
i pray for anyone dating this man
but we can be delulu for a few
dove
would absolutely call you dove or some other kind of bird
reminds him of how he protects you like your a delicate bird (and he likes experimenting on birds if yk what i mean 😏)
angel
TELL ME HE WOULDN’T
ngl he only calls you angel when he’s horny asf in a good mood
“hey angel, can you come here for a bit?”
NONE OF YOUR HOLES ARE SAFE RIP
honey
only time your safe if when he calls you honey
mostly calls you this when you’re having a bad day
BUT HE STILL MANAGES TO SOUND SARCASTIC ASF
this is a warning, this man will accidentally hurt your feelings 24/7
“You doing alright there honey? You want to talk about it?”
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Kilik Rung
fuck not being allowed to have favorites I LOVE THIS BITCH
only fully green flag in the show i stg (except Marie ofc)
lovebug
he will call you every single pet name he can come up with, but love bug is his favorite
neither of you know how it started but you’re not complaining
“You’re too sweet for me lovebug” <33
sweets
ya see what i did there? ofc he combines his two favorite things: you and those damn candy bars
“This class is so boring, right sweets?”
will calls you sweets often to express thanks kinda like a “thanks toots”
getting more into that
toots
he thinks he’s funny (and he is)
will say this very ironically and usually infront of friends to make everyone laugh
the only slightly annoying quality abt Kilik is his inability to take anything other than combat seriously
“hey toots, how’s it goin’?”
hon
I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST ONE!
but you cannot tell me this man is not from New Orleans or some other adjacent
and the hon with the southern-ish accent
being so fr he will call you hon all the time and it will fluster tf out of you (he’s smug abt it, just a little 🤏
“You look nice, who are you all dressed up for hun?”
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woo hoo first post!
anyways hope y’all are doing great
any comments, questions, requests or concerns feel free to DM me!
-Melodrangea <3
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operationnope · 9 months
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Listen, maybe it’s just that I’ve done almost every slow burn route this game has ever thrown at us (Jake, Noah, Finn, now Ozzy, I also went for Oliver who was a last minute LI in S4), but I’m kind of… hopeful still? I won’t lie lmao, that hurt. It really hurt for a minute there. But at the end of the day, after you get a minute to sit back on it, it’s kind of understandable.
I seriously don’t get why people can do whatever they want in this game (MC included), but, if Ozzy does it, he’s the villain. Was what he did great? No. But was he hurt and confused and just made a mistake? Yeah. It’s actually not that different from what Grace did in CA, just less intentional. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think Grace is a bad person. She’s not my favorite (I won’t lie), but she’s a good gal. So, I get it (I still have to get completely over it myself), but let’s not talk about Ozzy like he’s this bad person, please.
He’s no Suresh. More than anything, Ozzy gives Noah vibes with an even softer personality, more baggage AND more insecurities.
MC was absolutely right to be mad at Ozzy right about now, but personally I also defended him from Marshall and Grace, because what was that. The hypocrisy (Grace), the gall (Marshall).
Also, I see that a lot of people are forgetting this is Love Island and Ozzy had no obligation to anyone at the time in which CA happened. We have every right to be upset, of course, but he’s no snake or player. Personally, I kind of just want to hug him.
Again, MC is completely right to be mad at Ozzy now (though I’ll admit, I’m already dying for the two of them to sort things through), but the fact that Ozzy was spiralling so bad he went for a three-way kiss while skinny dipping (when we know how he feels about intimacy) absolutely broke my heart.
(Not to mention, when Ozzy said he immediately regretted that night and was beating himself up about it, I swear I felt his words down in my soul. Plus, he’s the only one who owned up to his own mistakes. That, in my opinion, is more important than not making them at all.)
ALL 👏 OF 👏 THIS 👏
Fact: We weren’t in a couple with Ozzy
Fact: As MC, you can make so many choices throughout the game (kissing, bits, lap dances, etc.) that you get away with
Fact: It stung, but I still love Ozzy
Maybe we are all just making excuses for him, but I really don’t think he’s a bad guy. He owned up to it and seemed so remorseful. Grace was unapologetic for kissing Hamish, which I don’t really care about, but then she’s livid about Ozzy. I like her but I’m over her antics.
At the end of the day, I’ve put up with much worse in this game- Cherrygate, Blake, S5 to name a few. We’ll get over this, too 💖💖
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soupbitch-moneybitch · 7 months
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blackbonnet drabble i pulled out of my hyperfixated ass. major s2 spoilers:
if i never see your eyes again
The first thing about Edward Teach that Stede Bonnet noticed were his eyes.
They were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Choked more than half to death, bleeding from the gut, lying in the midst of black smoke and hot flame, Stede saw two beacons of light emerge from the darkness surrounding him. A pair of soft, glinting doe-eyes that contradicted the rest of his person, all wild mane and tight leather. His eyes were the calm in the storm, and instantly Stede, all bloody and afraid, had been awash with a sense of serenity. These eyes—and the man they belonged to, whomever he was—they would make it all right again.
Despite everything, despite the carnage and screams and blood, he had smiled. He couldn't not smile at eyes like that.
And now, he will never see them again.
The worst thing about Ed's lifeless body, Stede thinks, as he rips away the cloth covering his still face, color drained from his usually vibrant skin, is the fact that his eyes are closed. Because it means that Stede will never again see the way the sunlight catches on Ed's irises like the rays sparkling on the endless ocean. He will never again see them crinkle in the corners with crows-feet when Stede makes him laugh. He will never again see him bat his long lashes, or widen them comically large when hit with a scheme or an idea for a fuckery. 
He will never again see the way his pupils blow wide when he's been properly kissed.
Every night since they've been apart, Stede has dreamt of Ed's eyes, looking back at him with as much love as Stede feels in his heart, and now those dreams will remain a thing of fantasy. There will be no gentle gaze on a sandy beach as the waves lap up onto the shore around them. 
Stede will never see Ed's eyes again, and it's a tragedy so monumental that he can't even feel the full breadth of it all. His chest is a pitch-black, bottomless cavern. Ed had once told him that all the important bits were on the right, but the shattering of Stede's heart solidly on his left side suggests he forgot about something vital. 
How is he meant to survive this? Ed's eyes are closed, goddamnit, and he's just meant to keep on breathing? 
He presses his forehead to his clasped hands and says, "I'm sorry." It's not enough, but it's not like there's a combination of words in the English language to convey the depth of his grief anyway. Of his regret. So he settles with "I'm sorry," and says it again for good measure, because the "I love you" that he wants to say is stuck as a suffocating lump in his throat.
The room is silent. Even the sea seems still. No room that Ed Teach occupied has ever been this quiet. He's too big a personality; the air vibrates in his mere presence. Or it used to. Now, with nothing but his body there lying slack on his deathbed, Stede realizes that Ed's soul took the sound with it when it left the room.
Except, suddenly, the silence breaks. A soft thudding sound pulls Stede out of his reverie of misery. He turns toward it and sees, with a lightning strike to his disassembled heart, the twitching of his beloved's hand.
And he begins to plead, aloud to Ed, and internally to whatever God that may be listening, that there may be life inside him yet. That Stede may see his eyes again.
"Come back to me," he begs, because now that he has it, he knows that having this hope dashed would surely put him in the ground right beside Ed. 
Ed's hand is still twitching, but his eyes are still closed.
If this chance is a fuckery, and I never see your eyes again, Stede thinks, then I never want to see anything ever again. Make me blind, because the world will no longer have anything worth viewing if your eyes aren't in it.
The air is vibrating again. Stede swears he can feel Ed's soul returning. He holds his hands so tightly that his own fingers ache from the clench. He prays. He prays and begs and prays some more, that somehow, he managed not to be too late.
Ed's eyes fly open.
They're the most beautiful thing Stede Bonnet has ever seen. 
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delicrieux · 2 years
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—𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘯
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pairing—remus lupin x fem!reader genre—angst, romance, young adult warnings—descriptions of blood, swearing, uses of cigarettes & alcohol cast—y/n, remus, james, lily word count— 2.4k
—remus lupin comes to a small remote village in britain’s nowhere to get away from the stress of everyday life.  
author’s note: a quiet look into everyday life with remus
masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | season series masterpost | autumn features  ♥  october, already?
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Silence. The worst kind. The train groans and rumbles underneath him and hisses with fumes yet there are no other passengers, no other spectres of this world or another. Towns, plains, forests — all pass him as a deep green blur of ending summer. The conductor sometimes cuts the stillness of the compartment with a buzzing, static announcement from the radio before abruptly— silence, again.
It haunts him. He is not one for crowds yet now he would give all the money in his pockets — he does not have much, but he has enough — to make people simply appear. Not to talk to him. They could not even see him for all he cares, yet some sort of commotion, laugh, bits of gossip, anything really, would be better than to listen to his bitter thoughts. The wolf inside him, this terrible, frightful thing, howls in his ears threats and promises, all more horrid than the last. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. This body, his body, is starting to feel unlike his at all.
He fears the moon. He fears the night and the feeling it brings along with it. He fears the loneliness and the haziness that crashes him when he awakes after a transformation. He fears that one day he might not wake up at all. But more than that, he fears that when he does he won’t know who he is anymore.
Perhaps that is the reason he packed his measly belongings in a bag and rushed to the nearest station, buying a ticket to somewhere and not daring to stop and think for even a moment. He could’ve phoned James, but oh, he’s so busy with Lily. He could’ve reached out for Sirius, but that one is hardly reachable these days, and hardly in London — possibly gallivanting somewhere with a romantic partner he will lose interest faster than he can down a shot. He could’ve gone to Peter — he lives the closest and never refuses his company — but he too seemed preoccupied these days, anxious and pale. And Remus just wanted to go. To run away. To be spontaneous and just not care for a moment.
And it was exhilarating before the train started moving. When it did, and the silence settled, doubts and regrets washed down on him like a cold wave.
A few more hours of voiceless torment and the conductor announces his stop. Bibury. The air is fresh and cool against his skin when he steps off of the train and into the sunlight. It seems to refresh the very core of his soul. There is no grand station and no noise. Few patrons litter about, an old cabin stands with a welcome sign and information: village is but ten minutes down the road. He rents a bicycle and the old man behind the counter smiles at him as if he was his son. It makes him flustered. He is too used to being invisible.
The village is stuck in time, the houses small and clay like, drowning in greenery and flowers. He feels like he stepped into a fairy-tale. It makes him lightheaded. The air. The sun. The tranquillity. Silence here does not sound so painful.
It reminds him of Hogsmeade, minus the snow, and the careless days spent at Hogwarts. How times have changed, he thinks with a broken heart, slowing the bike to stop by a tavern. He had not booked a room; he had not known if there are rooms here to book even. But the sign by the window informs of free beds and so he parks his bike, fixes the strap of his bag awkwardly, smiles lamely at the elderly couple sat outside by a table, drinking juice or tea or coffee. They smile back. He nervously scrambles inside.
When all is taken care of and he puts his things away, he comes down, key in his pocket, anxious pep in his step. He calls James first. The green telephone is sweaty in his hand. You’re where? comes his friend’s concerned voice. Bibury, he says, his voice uncertain and hoarse to his own ears. Where? James doesn’t quite get it. Just…away from the noise. It’s lovely here, you know, Remus mutters, eyes glancing about the modest interior. You could’ve come visit, Lily misses you! I do too. Blimey, mate, I was planning a get together for ages. Guess it’ll have to wait, though. No worries. Sirius is in Brighton, the mess he’s caused, listen to this— and he goes on and on and Remus’ sudden trip is out the conversation like that. He’s almost glad. James sounded worried, a tad guilty perhaps. He hates making his friends worry. He hates how depended he feels. Sirius’ escapades are much more interesting than his spiralling health and mental state.
“So when will you be back?” James finally asks. Who are you talking to? Remus hears Lily’s distant voice, followed by a nonchalant Moony by James. Ah! Say hello! And nag him for not visiting, please.
“In a few weeks.” That’s a lie, he hadn’t even thought about when to return, though his answer is satisfactory enough.
“Ah, right then, clear your calendar because you will stop by or else Lily will have my head.” James laughs, “You alright?” His sudden question makes Remus stiffen. Caught off guard he glances to the side. And any coherent thought goes out the window with that—
He hadn’t noticed her before, perhaps her shift had just started because she carries a full tray of drinks and snacks and her uniform is neatly ironed and there’s a blush on her cheeks. He gulps. Looks away. Then looks again. And this time their eyes meet and she gives him a polite, soft smile before going outside with the tray and he feels his heart skip beats, longing to go after her.
“Brilliant.” He says, breathless, “I gotta go, now. Good talking to you. Tell the rest, yea?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and hangs up, suddenly invigorated. He follows after her outside and sees her assisting the elderly couple he saw before. They’re reading newspapers. What could possibly be happening here that’s worth the ink?
He takes a seat by a lonely table by his bike, anxious, uncomfortable in the daylight. And as he suspected she saunters to him, the same smile gracing her lovely face and for a moment he forgets how to breathe—
“Hi!” She greets him cheerily, “Anything I can get you?”
“Uhh—“
“You’re new here, aren’t you.” It’s not a question, rather a statement, “Probably starving, no? I’ll get your our lunch special. Anything to drink?”
“I—“ He glances at the menu, not having even touched it, “I’ll, uhm, have some tea, thank you.”
She nods. “I’ll be right back with your order.”
And she leaves again and a part of him leaves with her. It’s not a long wait but it’s enough to make him second question every decision he had ever made. And when she returns she sets down his tea and some truffles.
“Thank you.” He smiles. Or tries to, at least. He’s not sure if he manages.
“Not a problem.” She replies sweetly, “I’m (Name), by the way.”
“Remus.”
She repeats his name a few times under her breath, testing the syllables, the vowels and consonants. And instantly he somehow knows that he is safe; that his name is safe inside her mouth; that she will never say it in a tone that portrays disgust. It’s liberating and heart-breaking at the same time. He feels anew yet constrained. She says his name with honesty. He knows he will never be fully honest with her. He cannot give her the same genuine smile she gives him.
The day passes like a dream. She joins him for lunch — not many people here, she could spare a moment of her attention to him — as she found him so interesting and strange. He is not used to such attention. It was usually Sirius that had any waitress charmed before he said his order, or James before he found Lily. Peter and Remus were always in the background, somewhat uncomfortable, somewhat envious. Though apparently (Name) found his fidgeting and reserved manner charming.
She likes the summer, but appreciates autumn, too. She rides her bike everywhere and only been to London twice. She cooks. She worked as a newspaper girl when she was young. She attended school in a nearby town ten miles away. She enjoys the quiet life, simple pleasures: a starry sky, luminous moon, wine in the evening, a delicious meal, pretty outfit, the wind in her hair.
She was so open and beautiful it was like sitting next to the sun herself. He was so happy it was hard to breath. But in the back of his mind, through the whole exchange, a voice nagged him: liar. And that voice was right. He is a liar. He skewed the truth as much as needed, possibly more than needed. He could not reveal that he went to Hogwarts, but without tales of Hogwarts he had nothing to tell.
A day passes. Then five. The summer heat still lingers, but cool winds blow more frequently and the sky is often covered in clouds. Time here is stagnant and nothing really changes. It calms him. He is desperate for stability, and he thinks he has found it. And he sees her often, they hang out, they go on walks sometimes and talk till his throat is sore. It’s the most happy he has felt in years.
Three weeks pass and he still does not consider leaving. The greenery slowly turns brown, red, orange. Golden sunlight dyes the town and sets it aglow. He walks with his hands in his pockets. She has her gaze set on the ground while he has his on her. They’re going home. It was her idea.
“How about dinner? Promise I won’t poison you.” She had said with a giggle and he agreed, perhaps too eagerly.
She lives in a small cottage and he has felt more at home staring at it than he has ever felt in London. A light breeze ruffles his hair as he slowly follows after her on a beaten path between green grass and flowers. She fishes for her keys, mumbles apologies “Sorry, they should be here, oh, don’t tell me I left—Aha! There!” and unlocks the door, ushering him inside. The whaff of wood, bread, and dried flowers greets him first. She flicks on the lights. He could stay here forever.
The kitchen is small and cosy and overrun with knickknacks, decorative plates and cups and cooking utensils. There is nothing even remotely modern here.
“So!” She sings, dropping her bag on the chair and going to the record player, “Hope you don’t mind some Bob Dylan?”
“Oh, no, definitely not.” He says hurriedly. She’s so considerate. It makes him feel fuzzy. After a moment the signature shriek of Dylan’s guitar fills the silence with an upbeat though somewhat mellow tune.
She cooks. He helps. She laughs at him amiable efforts and he chuckles stuck between embarrassment and mirth.
“What have you been eating before you came here?” She wonders aloud, stirring the pot. Enticing smells fill the kitchen; heat warms his cheeks. He suddenly forgets everything he had ever tasted. Noting his bewilderment, she giggles, landing a hand on his shoulder and catching his gaze, “Nothing good, I can tell.” Her eyes are twinkling, a smile that is not quite smug yet not quite soft either on her lips, “Well, no matter now. You can be my sous-chef until you go back to London.”
His heart is pounding like a wild drum. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing, “…What? No! No—I mean, that would be lovely, but I can’t— can’t impose on you like that.” He finishes his frantic spill a bit softer, brows burrowed, contemplating.
“Oh, I insist.” She dismisses his tirade with a wink and goes back to the food, “Wine’s on the cabinet to your right. I trust you to open it.”
He’s better at opening bottles than dealing with knifes and spoons and trying to decide what spice goes with what. His whole meal plan had been a measly quick grub at any open diner whifch sold edible food at an affordable price; he never cooked at home, never had enough time, nor want to make anything. So as she worked he sat down and listened to her low hum and Dylan’s pitched voice coming from the speaker. He finds it hard to fight down a smile, the amazing sense of comfort and belonging as he watches her work.
“Wine?” She calls, extending her hand though she never quite turns to him fully. He jerks from his seat and with shaky hands pours two glasses and does not spill a drop. He hands one to her and she smiles gratefully, reassuring him that dinner’s almost ready. She’s blushed and apologetic for it taking so long. He cares little of the fact, if at all. It’s spending time with her that counts, and he could sit in that lovely daze for way longer than he is willing to admit.
The rest of the night is just like that – pleasant and dizzy. Her meal is delicious and her laugh is contagious, the prettiest sound he had ever heard. And many nights like these follow: they cook, well, she does, he keeps her company and recommends an odd spice here and there, or they dance when the rain is drumming against the windows of her home and the lights twinkle so enjoyably as the record player suddenly strums her favourite song, or they watch television, one of those horrid dating shows that even he finds tolerable when her head rests on his shoulder and she keeps giggling and muttering jokes.
It’s the end of September when they kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dancefloor.  It was he, struck by sudden devout passion and bravery, who leaned in and pecked her lips in a testing, shy way, flustering and taking a step back once he realized that he, possibly, should have not done that. It was their typical evening, them having dinner in the dying golden light and it just felt right. His brows were burrowed and he searched her face for a fearful heartbeat and then she grinned and pulled him in again at he swore he had never tasted anything sweeter.
And later, their bodies moulding in smothering heat, he realised that there is no one in the world that looks prettier in moonlight, that there is no one who can make him appreciate the luminous pale glow of the night.
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october, already?
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gl00mystarz · 1 year
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Ah, that's superb! Well then, I would like to request a Sean with a Male!Reader who learns about the Readers chest scars (you know, because he's trans :0) but if you don't feel like you are able to do that, then a Male!Rrader who has cheesy one-liners, is getting flirt back by Sean and Reader is learning on that day that they are very easily getting flustered by a silly scottish accent :]
Yes!! I myself as a trans man love writing trans readers!!
Plus I love Sean, Sean is amazing and the love of my life <3
CW; swearing, mentions of scars and transphobia (not from Sean<3), injury, Micah (/hj)
WC; too tired <3
Battle Scars, sorta ya know?
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See, Sean was a rather nosy fellow, at least that's what he'd often say about himself. So of course, he had heard many stories about some scars you kept hidden on your chest, and no one knew the real reason they were there. So he was a little curious, taking it upon himself one late night at the camp, while you were off by yourself fixing up your latest wound. He asked you "Oi, how'd ya get those scars if ye don't mind me askin'?" you of course sighed, a little too caught up in your injury to want to answer, but of course, your little crush on the Irishman got in the way, so you figured why not. You knew he'd blab to the whole camp, but you didn't care. You knew the gang would love and accept you anyhow. It was just Sean you wanted to still love you.
Despite everything, and how the Irishman may act, you loved him dearly, Sean made you feel whole in a way you couldn't quite understand, but nonetheless, you trusted him. So you turned your attention to him, looking at him skeptically before sighing "They're crude top surgery scars, Sean, I wasn't ya know.." you began to trail off, unsure of how to word the next part in a way you were sure the; probably drunk, Irishman could understand. "I wasn't born a man Sean, I'm just as much a man as you.. or Arthur, just born different." At this Sean seemed to think for a moment, only to open his mouth and be cut off by Micah. "What she's sayin' ya drunk bastard is she's a fake man."
You had chosen to ignore Micah's crude commentary and went back to tending your wound, becoming completely turned off from the conversation. You expect Sean to laugh, but instead, he seemed to get.. angry? "Whatcha talkin' bout man? He's jus as much a man as you or me. 'Fact, thinkin' he's more a man than you, ya dirty rat." Giving Micah his normal smile he spoke once more "Why dontcha scram now fore I bust ya ugly fuckin' face in, yeah?" You could see the look of shock on Micah's face, and it made you laugh a bit as the aforementioned man skulked off to somewhere else in the camp, probably to bother another poor soul. Though your heart beat wildly in your chest; giving Sean an appreciative smile "Thanks Sean, means a lot to me."
Sean looked at you almost bewildered "Why wouldn't I protect ya? You means a lot to me ya know. Wouldn't want that nasty ol' bastard to ruin how you're feeling." He looked around a bit before a cheeky smile popped up on his face "Does that mean ya have the lady bits like the other girls in camp? or would they be your man bits?" Of course, Sean had to end it off with you laughing, shaking your head, and almost wincing at the pain shooting through you from your injury, but you're glad he always knew how to keep your mood light. If anything, you wouldn't trade your spunky Irishman for anyone in the whole world, you were glad it was him you ended up falling in love with, and you always would be.
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annyankers · 1 year
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hi train! you're sucking me back into your lore too (it's soooo good and i'm invested) so tell me more about your version of darla?
dkfghkls Sorry this took a bit to get to I've been in the Pit with some other stuff that kept making me forget this was in my inbox rip
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LET'S TALK DARLAAAAAAAAAAA [AIR HORNS]
Darla My Beloved, My One, My Only. My changes to Darla are honestly super minimal on like, a base level. I love Julie in the role and I think she builds a truly Iconic Character.
Mainly my thing is that it's Fucking Dumb And Stupid that she dies. In one s6 btvs/ats crossover/combination fanfic I swear to the GODS I'll finish plotting and writing I use an oc to help make sure she survives the pregnancy but honestly I don't care how you do it. She Just Does.
I like to keep Connor and her pregnancy because I think it creates a really interesting and unique conflict for Darla that plays well with her utterly heartless and self-centered character. Sharing Connor's soul is the second brush she's had having with one in under a year after 400 years without one. That's super duper fun and interesting to work with. It's fun to have her be conflicted about still being a heartless bitch and maybe caring for at least 1 (one) person just on the principle that they're helpless and cannot survive without someone who cares.
I don't really like the idea of "motherhood makes her better" because that's uhhhhh.... that can be ummm....... but I think there's something to be said for "jerkoff takes some responsibility for her actions and the lives of others". At the end of the day, Darla is still a vampire and still soulless but now she's got some Complex Feelings about stuff and also things. She's more in the Spike Zone of soullessness and how to deal with it in the face of doing shit like giving a fuck about people compared to Angel's whole vibe about the topic or the Master's -- which is her previous stance.
Connor is Her Baby, he's an extension of Her which is important to the douchey narcissist in her. Even after some brushes with having a soul I don't think she'd even CONSIDER a change of heart or just an adjustment to her lifestyle for anyone who's not somehow "Hers". Darla is about Darla before she's about anyone or anything else. Connor being From Her forcibly extends her circle of Self Interest and cracks open the Padora's Box of Possibly Giving A Shit About Others.
The things she felt while she shared his soul also have a big impact on her, she does care about him and his well being. Her stance on the rest of humanity's wellbeing? Less concerned lol. She's not interested necessarily in ~becoming a better person~ but she DOES realize she has to make some change, some life choices, and get better at covering some shit up because Connor WILL look to her as a role model as he grows up and she'd like to minimize the damage she does to him lol. Also recognizes she needs to make some lifestyle changes so that she's got more than just Drusilla helping her raise and protect Connor or WORST SCENARIO IF SHE DOESN'T-- have that asshole Angel STEAL HER SON FROM HER AND DENY HER ACCESS because she's "A Psychotic Heartless Murderer" or whatever dumb shit he's wanking about now. Loser.
She's TRULY the Vegeta or the Hiei she IS the Regina George and you DO have to bribe her into helping. She's a barely domesticated villain she's only here because all these numb nut goody two shoes can't muster up the spine to say no when she asks them to babysit. She and Spike actually end up having much more familial relationship because they're both working through all this Weird Shit about being vampires with no soul who're also grappling with doing weak ass pansy nice guy shit like losers but also it's weirdly fulfilling??? tf???? Since when tf did they like kids-- and not just as dinner??? what happened here???
She's fond of Cordelia because she's Mean, they bully Angel for sport. She and Buffy probably end up with a weird chilled out vibe eventually as two very sexy narrative foils of each other. Shadow selves Baybee. Darla and Anya would be ride or die let's just be real about that they're both unhinged. Illyria is the only person Darla is afraid of lol. Darla and Angel have the most CURSED on and off again sex relationship that torments everyone around them.
Basically Darla is the Cassandra Truth in a lot of ways for ATS. She's the Greek Chorus pointing out all the flaws and issues with Angel's dumbass plans and how X is a trap and OBVIOUSLY So-And-So is upset you ninny. She doesn't listen any of them she's the oldest person in the room she's not taking orders from CHILDREN. Angel is 100000x more competent with her around, it's almost like she was always the brains of the operation lol. Basically she and Drusilla are the muppet critics who're also raising a baby and sometimes help fight crime but only because if they don't they'll have to pay rent.
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thedeltarunies · 2 years
Text
Introduction of some kind anyways
Alright, uh Imma just start off by linking the OCs n Sona I got for now- their descriptions anyways
https://cryptidofthekeys.tumblr.com/post/696773636116365312/addison-oc
https://cryptidofthekeys.tumblr.com/post/665802588429713408/kokoru-deltarune-oc?is_related_post=1
and finally here’s my sona’s desc he gets a keep reading so uh I’ll say it up here, welcome to this fun lil blog of chaos and shenanigans ft my ocs and sonas ...a-and.. *groan* ...If you REALLY want, I’ll go ahead and add Devi’s description too but he’s such a bastard-
https://cryptidofthekeys.tumblr.com/post/698394214350848000/spamton-ex-aka-devi
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| Name: Chase (scribbled out his last name aka im too lazy to give him a name aside from my own)
| Nickname: Cryptid
| Gender: Trans FTM (He/Him)
| Height: 5’5”
| Species/Race: Human/Lightner
| HP: 69
| Weapon/Defense Items: Scythe (he doesn’t use it unless he ABSOLUTELY has no choice …or ya know if someone hurts people he cares about, etc- lmao) and for Defense he wears a black spiked collar
| Alignment: Chaotic Pacifist by heart but uh, if you hurt the ones he cares about, well so much for being a pacifist lmao- (chaotic in terms he won’t fight or hurt anyone but sometimes he loves spreading some chaos around)
| Soul Color: Very Dark Purple and it seems to be v jittery/shaky and if you look extra close enough you’ll notice tons and tons of little cracks (used to be a light pastel purple, along with the cracks in a few areas you can still see that color shining through) the reason it's jittery n shit? …Anxiety- true and through, why his dumbass gets hit so easily
| Hair Color: Dark Brown (spiky quiff)
| Eye Color: Gunmetal Blue
| Skin Color/Body Type: Extremely pale and chubby
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| Appearance: His main outfit in both the Light AND Dark world is literally a Solid Purple tank top, some black shorts, and then finally some black slip on shoes. Other than that he wears a black binder to keep his chest slimmed down as he hasn’t had top surgery yet or anything like that, he has secretly gotten on testosterone though and for the final bit of detail he’s got a circle beard.
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| Personality: Well he’s just based on me so, he’s got kindness, voice, ambition, cockiness and self confidence but in more of a joking way (like a battle arises? He’s just like lmao I got this don’t worry and then eats shit- just hell he doesn’t even get hit he falls on the ground), is silly and goofy, jokes and is almost never serious but has his moments… Oh and uh
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He knows when to get serious of course, heavy people pleaser, anxiety to the max, gets depressed sometimes, has a lotta issues with his body aka the wonderful world of gender dysphoria (note my sarcasm), dumbass but a sweet dumbass, does and says some dumb shit like it’s seriously a wonder he hasn’t died yet but surprisingly enough he hasn’t, always says ‘oh its coming though, one day I’ll just get fucking destroyed by something, probs somethin stupid too’
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Literally the WORST at decision making, he doesn’t PURPOSEFULLY put himself in trouble! He swears! Hell he’s terrified of being a burden so why would he wanna do that and then someone has to save him? He doesn’t wanna do that, it’s just the chaotic dumbass nature, he can’t help it- Would never wanna hurt anyone either, only time you’ll ever see him ACTUALLY on the offensive is when you hurt someone he cares about, himself? Eh it’s whatever to do shit to him but you mess with the people he cares about? He’ll fuckin w r e c k you.
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Social anxiety to the max, can’t handle social situations to save his life tbh, also a huge nerd.
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Basically just,, he’s me if I was in Deltarune, he’s just got my personality n shit- that’s the basics- I’m getting lazy sorry lmao
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| Side Facts: How he got into the Dark World? …Literally, he was sleeping so peacefully in his bed and then he rolled off the bed and started falling, he thought it was just him being in a dream state at first but then it was like …Wait,, falling doesn’t usually last this long- His eyes snapped open and voila he was actually falling, just fuckin SCREAM!!! Those poor vocal chords… Eventually he fell into this new world, his shoes falling and bonking him on the head.
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I’m not gonna go fully into it but he was so fucking confused, he was just looking around at this weird ass area, eventually he put his shoes on and then began exploring the Dark World, not that he knew it was called that- He had no fucking clue what was happening, he legit just woke up after rolling off his bed and presto- here he is, he has met Ralsei who came over, confused bc he uh apparently who the other was expecting.
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…Also he’s very apologetic like me so apologizing to Ralsei for that or whatever, and then blah blah- he asks Ralsei bout where the fuck he is, he gets it explained to him …Processes literally fucking none of it and just goes on his way, Ralsei offered to join him and give him a tour but uh Cryptid just declined like ‘uh no thanks man I’m good, I’ll find my way around’ …it seemed Ralsei was a bit disappointed but he let the other go.
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So now this dumbass is exploring this whole ass new world, to clarify for some future stuff- yes,, he has met the Spam man, he has gone into the Cyber World, n-not just like,, Castle Town- but anyways he likes your funny words puppet man- he’s also hella gay for yo- …AHEM- anyways ev ya know me well enough to know my sona’s ofc gay for him. The first meeting he was just like …wow,, this lil freak is fucked up …Im gonna marry his ass one day
. . .
It’s why- okay one of the main reasons he literally just ditches the Light World entirely, he has no shitty parents to hold him down, problems? Sure he still has plenty of those, the Dark World isn’t entirely forgiving but hey at least he finally got away from those fuckers amirite? Some things to note though here, anytime that gets brought up why he’s in the Dark World and seems to be sticking around he literally changes the subject and dodges that question every time, he doesn��t seem to wanna talk about it. Oh not only that but he literally lies too, if it gets to a point where someone persists, he lies about why he’s staying in the Dark World. Also notably,
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His soul seems to shake and move frantically around more the more he’s asked (also a side note I haven’t thought of what his attack would ever be named, and some of his ACTions are just talking and or giving gifts)
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Not even with Spamton, he won’t even answer that question if he asks, not that he has yet of course, has my sona confessed yet? Nope,, I’m also saving that for self shipping stories- He’s also terrified of rejection and or being laughed at or some shit, but we’ll get into that at a later date- …Back in the Light World- There’s been missing posters of Cryptid placed all over the town, he went back there once- to grab some of his things- he saw those posters- it was his parents that placed them but he only scoffed ‘yeah right, like they really miss me after all the shit they did…’ he grabbed one and crumpled it up, he meant to throw it away but he accidentally threw it into the bag he took with him back to the Dark World :)) (totally not going to come up later)
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And since then he hasn’t been back to the Light World, he’s been chilling out in the Dark World. Just having fun and goofing off, sure there’s been some ups and downs and man has he been attacked a lot and gone through a ton of shit when he first arrived but oh well! That doesn’t matter …Don’t worry about it, he surely won’t ever go through more problems and bad times :)
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Also Imma say right now bc I’m really tired,, if and whenever I write for him, things are always subject to change bc I either get better ideas later or I just wanna redo shit, that’s just how I roll tbh- All my OCs and Sonas come with that in their fine print LMAO- they are all subject to change depending on how I feel, if I get better ideas later on, OR if I just wanna redo something.
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leonidas1754 · 2 years
Text
I've been struggling with writing as of late.
Finishing a story has always been a challenge, and frequently I start or work on one of my myriad WIPs, nothing new and not a problem. I do this for free, I don't need to finish a damn thing if I don't feel like it.
Learning to write for myself was a process, but I like to think I've mostly gotten there. I write first and foremost a fic I want to read myself, and if others like it, that's cool too, but it's not necessary. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean lack of response doesn't get to me sometimes. And that's what's happening now. Usually it's not a big problem, I get bummed but I keep on trucking.
But this time around... Not so much, and it's not hard to see why. I put my heart and soul into this story, I worked so damn hard on it, and it seemed like there were at least a handful of people enjoying and following it. But when I posted the last chapter... Nothing. A handful more kudos and two single comments, one of which I had to delete because it was literally just a demand that I write more, not even saying much about the fic itself.
Now don't get me wrong, no one HAS to comment or anything, even if you commented on previous chapters. And kudos are nice, I guess, others enjoy them more than me, and I've been able to enjoy them more since turning the hits off. But it kinda comes back around to like...
Passive consumption is the mortal enemy of fanfiction. It is so, so disheartening to put so much effort into your work, to put yourself out there, time and time again, only to get nothing in return. To get people just taking your work and give you nothing. Kudos are nice, but let's face it, they are the single most low-effort sign of appreciation ever. You hit a button. That's it. Even likes here on Tumblr are more significant, as there's a tab where you can view things you've liked. A kudos can feel much like you've tossed me a dime. A kind gesture for certain, but not worth much in the end. Plus, they're extremely easily missed if you don't have Emails turned on, like a great many don't because they become annoying spam a lot of the time. So chances are, if that fic is old, the author won't even see your kudos, turning it into an almost entirely meaningless gesture.
And it feels so selfish to complain like this, sure, but at the same time, what I'm so selfishly complaining about is essentially the perception of readers being selfish themselves. How many times have I seen people discussing the old eventuality of artists leaving communities because of art theft? It's referenced a fair bit, I'd say. (And artists definitely have similar problems in fandom, but this isn't about that) Does anyone even notice if a writer disappears? Unless they get lucky and manage to have a fic utterly explode in popularity, probably not, and even then it's more likely it'd only be noticed if the fic stops updating. Once it's done, people move on.
I haven't written in a month. I've poked at my WIPs, tried to write, but I can never get more than a sentence or two, or edit a WIP some, before I just give up because it's not there. I put so much effort and love into my writing and it's just... It's difficult to keep doing that when I feel like I'm the only one who even cares.
Maybe that is selfish and whiny and whatever else. But in this day and age where people are told more and more to value their work, to not sell themselves short, is it really that odd to be a bit upset that your work that you're not even asking money for doesn't get any appreciation?
Also, I swear, if I see one more "Ao3 should let us leave more than one Kudos," I'm gonna fucking scream. I constantly see posts about how people want a way to show more appreciation and it feels like they'll do fucking anything except leave a comment.
Listen, you do not have to comment. At all. If you have nothing to say, don't, leave that Kudos, they're still a good thing even if I have problems with them. If you have such extreme social anxiety that saying "I love this story" is too much, been there was like that, it took time to overcome. But for the love of god, if you have something to say, SAY IT.
Leave that "Second Kudos!" comment, tell the author what part of the story you liked best, how the story made you feel, if it's multichapter say what you're looking forward to most! Just give us something, some sort of sign that you aren't just taking a fic and throwing it away like a used napkin.
I've stopped replying to comments when all I have to say is "thanks for commenting" because it just feels like groveling, like I should be appreciative that they took the ten seconds to leave a simple comment. Simple comments are still good, they're still important, but I feel like writers shouldn't have to show their gratitude for them so someone thinks they should keep commenting. This is a more niche thing, but I've seen it here and there, both from writers apologizing for not immediately replying and from readers saying that lack of response discourages them from commenting at all.
Just show your appreciation for the free content you're given, for crying out loud. It is not that hard, I promise, and it will mean a fuckton more to the author than the actual effort it took to do it.
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yichimi · 2 years
Note
Hi <3 i will like to request like- how would the dorm (or just Azul, Vil, Kalim and Leona(Andjustifyouwant Ace and Deuce but it's not important at all)) will react if you said with an angry face "I know what you did" and insist until the character confess something, it could be anything but something, and don't worry, English it's not my first leanguaje as well, feel free to take your time or decline <3!
✨Thank you for your request and patience✨
"i know what you did" - with Deuce, Ace, Leona, Azul, Kalim and Vil
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DEUCE SPADE:
Stares at you along time
He really tryst to remember what he could've done
He started to get so nervous about it and also started to make things up in his mind
Situations that never happened but he now believes are real
That's how nervous he is-
"Was it that bad?"
You jokingly nod trying to stay serious and then he lost it
"Whatever it was! I'm so sorry please let me make it up!"
And then he kinda continues about date ideas or buying you sweets and stuff just to apologize (for something that never happened)
In the end when you told him everything he was more than relieved but also said you should never prank him like this again because it fluffing damn gave him a Heartattack-
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ACE TRAPOLLA:
he knows he does shit
And he's done a lot of it too
But recently he didn't do anything! At least HE thought he didn't
Then you stood up the morning and chose violence-
"I know what you did" you said trying to keep a straight face
"EH?!"
Thinks real hard but can't find anything in his memory that could've made you mad-because he apologizes always afterwards if you were involved
"I-I don't know-i really don't know! Was it because i ate your yogurt 3 weeks ago??? Did you found out now?"
Well the yogurt was new but-no it isn't something to he mad about really
You told him the truth and now he's mad at you-like how dare you scare him like that
But hands down, that was awesome!
Good job he's proud of you
But don't you dare ever do THAT again ON HIM
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LEONA KINGDSCHOLAR:
well the only thing he really does is sleep when you two actually had a date or he was a bit way to honest with you
But you already are used to that
You still wanna pay him back so
Why not like this?
He just woke up 5 seconds ago because you threw a pillow right in his face and you said, "I know what you did"
He's thinking the best he can in a situation he just woke up-
Didn't really work
"what are you even fucking talking about?"
Fully believes he's innocent, which he is
But actually also has a clean mind-
After you told him the truth he ready-
You're standing beside his bed and he will grab you and use you now as a pillow if you want it or not
You gonna lay there for hours
"so troublesome, but i still love you"
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AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
well-panic attack-
Was he not spending enough time with you?
Don't you like his presents???
DO YOU FEEL LIKE HE DOESN'T LOVES YOU?? Because he really does-
The angry look on your Face-Damm breaks his heart honestly
"I-I cant remember what i did-"
Because he literally didn't do anything he's such a sweetheart-
Ohhh i swear the comfort you have to give him is gonna be big-
Thinks real hard and can't find ANYTHING in his memories-
"it's a joke-!" You bubbled out and damn is he reliefed-so happy that he didn't do anything
But you did-and what you're gonna do next is cuddling and giving out the explanation why excatly you did this for his poor soul
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KALIM AL-ASIM:
Oh bless his innocent soul
Besides all the partying and mess he does by accident, innocent
He does nothing wrong in your relationship except keeping you entertained and sporty
But a small little prank? Maybe-maybe it would be funny to see his reaction
And his reaction was that he started to laugh, no way he did something that bad. He didn't do anything in the last hours so it can't be it
But when you didn't laugh like he did...he worry's. Was really everything ok? Did he maybe hurt you by accident?
Panic
Starts to apologize so much you can't even understand him anymore
Jamil watching: (ಠ_ಠ)
"Kalim, I'm sorry! Its a prank!"
And then he's all happy again
A prank, of course it was one! He never does something bad!
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VIL SCHÖNHEIT:
no one can shock this beauty that he starts to stress
Nothing and no one
But you can-and you know exactly how
Besides the 'make up is running out' situation or one of his brushes broke. Chill
But the moment you stepped into his room angry saying "I know what you did!" He was: ????
Tells you to calm down and tell him wHaT mR pErFeCt dId WrOnG
Nothing-
But you wouldn't tell him that
You kept on looking at him angry and he then and there starts to worry a bit
...what could he done wrong?
Spaces out a little so you gonna snap him out of it, "Prank-" you simply said-
You got kicked out-youre wasting time??!! Is make up honeyyyyy, it's more important than a prank
But not as important as you---
TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
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redorich · 3 years
Text
to those who carried on
A fic for @petrichormeraki​ and their Hermit!Tommy AU.
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The hermits know Tommy as a quiet young man who is very sad and contemplative. The more time they spend with him (against his will, but they know he needs the company) the more they learn of the little details. His favorite block is cobblestone, he likes building towers, and apparently his favorite woman is the Queen. They don’t ask why he wears a smiley mask even though he never seems happy. They don’t ask why he hides important things in his ender chest. They don’t ask why he wears a shattered compass on a chain about his neck.
(Once, he died in lava and lost his absolute mind. He was so upset about the compass that he didn’t even mention the stack and a half of diamond ore he had on him. Xisuma ended up manually rolling back the server just so Tommy could have it back.)
As time goes on, the tremors in Tommy's hands grow lesser. His dull blond hair seems a bit brighter, his bruises fade quicker, he doesn’t look quite so skinny-- he spends his time serenely building, resource gathering instead of running and fighting. He has a sense of humor under all that trauma, which the hermits unfortunately find out after another massive-scale prank war thought to be instigated by Grian actually turns out to be Tommy's fault.
Tommy starts swearing more. Doc gets the stink eye from Stress for this, but Doc insists he’s never once sworn around the young man. (That’s an absolute lie, but it wasn’t anything Tommy hadn’t heard before. Tommy thinks Doc is remarkably unoriginal in his cursing. He does take note of the German ones, though.)
Inviting Tommy to PvP minigames can be touchy, they learn. He likes to fight, but he fights like an animal with nothing to lose. Grian once chanted, “It stays in the pit!” and everyone present had to spend the next five minutes wrangling Tommy’s soul back into his body from wherever it’d floated off to.
Tommy likes to glide with his elytra. He claims he’s never had one before, but he flies like such a natural that a few people have their doubts. On a dark desert night, with dark blue eyes watching the night sky, he confides to Cub that it reminds him of the way his dad used to fly. He hates rockets, though. He does not confide to Cub that it reminds him of what his brother did to his best friend. He says enough that Cub can guess, though.
Scar gets fed up with Tommy’s creeper holes and makes Tommy help him fix them. At first, Tommy has no clue why Scar is breaking out things like coarse dirt and birch leaves and making the ground all fancy, but he’s not afraid of a little hard work and Scar makes it fun. He learns a lot about terraforming that day, and awkwardly comes back a few days later asking if Scar needs any more help terraforming. Tommy still hasn’t built a real base, not by Hermitcraft standards, but the small hill he’s built his dirt hut near now has a very beautiful, if amateurish, waterfall. He doesn’t tell Scar about this, but Scar finds out anyway. Tommy wakes up one morning to find that someone has left a shulker box in his house. Instead of iron-gripped paranoia, he just feels wonder that someone would give him a gift-- to the hermits, a single shulker box is nothing. To Tommy, it’s everything.
The shulker box contains coarse dirt, birch leaves, and a silk touch shovel.
Tommy helps Xisuma mine a giant hole in the ground near bedrock, because he realizes that he’s never thanked the admin for getting him his compass back. Well, that and the fact that instamining with a haste two beacon and an efficiency five pickaxe is a novelty. Xisuma lets him keep the cobble, since everyone knows it’s Tommy’s favorite block, but also insists he keep some of the other blocks like andesite and diorite. He pats Tommy on the head and tells him to talk to Bdubs about building a house some time. Tommy nods. He's taken aback by how tall Xisuma is, completely contrasting his mild nature. He reminds Tommy of Wilbur, on one of his good days before... Before. Not Ghostbur, though-- the admin is much too alive.
Tommy waits too long, so eventually Bdubs comes to him. The man is silly and outrageous, playing everything for laughs and unexpectedly tender. Bdubs plays up how beautiful he thinks Tommy’s hideous dirt shack is, then offers to help him build a house that’s better. For Tommy, building a house means settling down, accepting that this is his home now. Bdubs doesn’t know this. Tommy builds cobblestone dicks while Bdubs tries to lecture him about depth and block variation. Nothing gets done and Bdubs feels like he might have failed, but come next week Bdubs is flying over the area and sees the dicks are gone; so is the dirt house. In its place is a spruce-and-cobble cottage nestled near the tiny waterfall. Off to the side, he’s made a cozy doghouse for his fox, Theo. Bdubs doesn’t know how close that fox came to being named Fundy.
He spars with False, and she very pointedly does not mention how his stances are uniquely suited to a piglin. There’s only one renowned fighter who’s a piglin, after all. It's Tommy’s story to tell, if he ever does, why he’s seen enough of the legendary Technoblade’s fights to pick up on his stances, yet he’s not experienced enough to know that they don’t suit him. Instead, False gives him different stances suited more for tall, skinny people like the two of them. She’s got blond hair and blue eyes just like him. (Not that she’d know. She’s never seen his eyes, hidden behind his mask as they are.) Every now and then, he imagines her as an older sister, and the one time he says so, she smiles. When Tommy’s at home, looking at his own distorted reflection in his waterfall (he’s improved it since he built it), he muses that their eyes aren’t the same, their hair colors are subtly off. It’s close enough, he thinks.
Stress dies from fall damage and Tommy goes out of his way to pick up her stuff, because the hermits do these things out of the kindness of their hearts. The thought never even crosses their minds to steal. It crosses his mind. He doesn’t do it. Stealing from Stress would be like stealing from Niki.
He shows up at Cleo’s base unannounced and demands to see the “cool shit”. He is appropriately enthused by the giant armor-stand-bugs. She tries teaching him her armor stand magic, but it doesn’t really sink in. It’s okay, she assures him, most people don’t have the knack for it. He does, however, learn that buttons make excellent decorations. He also learns how to braid hair, bribed by ice cream. He is terrible at it, to the point where Joe has to come by to help the two untangle her hair so Tommy can start again. Watching the two bicker over capitalism and six million armor stands and a whole host of other inside jokes he doesn’t get, he thinks he’s starting to understand what friendship is supposed to be like. Joe and Cleo don’t see him clutching his compass. He and Tubbo weren’t too far off from this, given their circumstances. Maybe...
Maybe Tubbo can be forgiven.
Tommy makes minigames of his own, ones that don’t just kill you and steal your stuff. He builds things that are pretty instead of just functional, brews potions with Stress and only calls them drugs once (again, upsetting her is like upsetting Niki. Best not done), and sets up chicken bombs above people’s bases instead of just lavacasting them. (As Grian saw the hundreds of chickens slowly raining down upon his mansion, he got such a peculiar look on his face that Tommy feared he’d fucked up. The shorter, stronger (much stronger oh god why is he so strong despite being so small) man nearly crushed Tommy’s lungs in a hug, proclaiming how proud he was of Tommy. Tommy was proud of himself for not accidentally murdering Grian out of reflex. Was this what healing was like?)
Yes. It is what healing is like. Tommy knows this because that wound gets ripped open again. Tango shows him how to build the most obnoxious redstone-powered noise machine the two can think of. Tango digs a small pit, and asks Tommy to throw down his axe. Suddenly, Tommy’s in Logstedshire again; it’s not Tango asking, it’s Dream. His hands don’t shake when he tosses his axe into the pit, followed by his sword and his armor. It isn't until he’s placed the TNT down that Tango grabs his wrist and asks him what he’s doing. Tommy’s eyes clear enough that he can see past the blond hair and freckles. Tango isn’t green, he’s red. He's shorter than Dream, and his worried eyes are unhidden. Tommy shudders, then tells Tango everything.
Tango has no pity for Tommy, just understanding and sympathy. He doesn’t push Tommy to talk about it, but when Tommy’s done telling his story, Impulse and Zedaph show up. They all pretend that Tommy’s voice isn’t hoarse, that they all didn’t conveniently happen to look away when Tommy took off his mask just long enough to wipe his eyes. The men bake a cake together, fool around with honey blocks, and don’t talk about it.
Tommy knows very little about redstone, considers himself more of a builder and a fighter than an engineer. Still, Mumbo’s living base is inspiring, and Tommy often hangs around the man’s industrial district just to watch Mumbo work. Mumbo knows that Tommy hasn’t purchased a day pass, but it’s nice having someone around to talk to while he works. It’s not like Tommy is stealing anything. (Tommy totally steals from Mumbo’s industrial district storage system. The man’s farms are so efficient that he doesn’t even notice, so Tommy assumes it’s fine. What Mumbo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.)
Lava still isn’t his favorite thing in the world. He stays far away from it, instead of imagining what it would be like to hurtle towards it. Ren doesn’t really notice this, but he does notice that Tommy doesn’t seem to like his mustafarian base. On a spur-of-the-moment whim, Ren whips up some absurd plotline in which he is a lone weary traveller seeking refuge at Tommy’s base from strange alien overlords. The two have fun together, and the young man cracks more absurd jokes about it than the hermits have ever seen him do. When Ren leaves a week later to return to his own base, Tommy keeps being absurd, if a bit more subdued without someone to play off of. He builds a shrine to the “prime log”, which grows more elaborate each day. Beef and xB pretend to be his acolytes, despite having no clue what a “twitch prime” is.
They can’t see his face, but the smile in his voice is a far cry from the despondency he once wore like a heavy cloak. He is so much more animated and alive, full of motivation. He builds an entire island in three days, and hand-delivers an invitation to each and every hermit for his beach party. Everyone shows up, even those with packed schedules (Iskall) and those with introverted tendencies (Etho). Tommy is nearly moved to tears when they show up in groups of twos and threes, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to come. There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, but there is more than enough cake to go around. Tango brings drinks, Impulse brings meat to barbecue, and Zedaph makes an elaborate jump-powered grill. Keralis brings way too much confetti and several handfuls of cheap, obnoxious party noisemakers. Stress brings Tommy a crown made out of alliums. It shines far less than his brother’s gold crown, and it’ll die in a few days, but he wears it all night and keeps it in his ender chest until it withers away.
He spends five days teaching himself to make flower crowns. Even his best attempt is awful, nowhere near as pretty as the crowns Stress makes, but when he gives it to her, she takes off the one she was wearing and wears his until it falls apart.
He dies fighting a creeper on Grian’s behalf, and doesn’t even panic, because he trusts that however many times he dies, no matter how stupid or ignominious or revolutionary or important, Xisuma will always let him respawn.
He spends a grand total of nine diamonds to buy a single plot of land in the shopping district. He builds a cute little bench facing the sunset, with warmly glowing street lights on either side and a small garden. At the end of the bench he places a jukebox, and buys every single disc that Beef’s music shop sells, including Pigstep. He sits on the bench while Mellohi plays and watches the tiny silhouettes of his friends flying in the evening sky. Tommy looks alone on that bench, even if he seems happy, so sometimes other people stop by to sit with him. Scar declares the bench area a public park, since everyone likes it so much, and refunds Tommy his nine diamonds straight from the throne.
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silver-weasel · 3 years
Text
Diving (Deku x Reader)
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Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)
Rating : E, 18+
Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts
Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)
A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3
Written for @rat-zuki​’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.
The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.
You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.
Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.
You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.
“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”
You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.
When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”
Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”
“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”
And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.
“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”
“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”
“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”
“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.
“Against a bear? Right.”
“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”
You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.
His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.
“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”
“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.
You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.
You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.
Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.
It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.
Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:
“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.
“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.
He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.
Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.
But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.
You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.
You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.
Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?
The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.
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You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.
“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.
“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.
It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.
“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.
“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”
His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.
His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.
“For the love of God, please, put it back on…” 
“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”
He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”
“What, you’re scared of the bears?”
He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.
“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”
He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.
Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.
He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—
You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.
“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.
You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?
He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.
With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:
“I didn’t want it to get wet.”
“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”
The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.
You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck. 
“I’m more than okay with that—”
“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.
“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.
He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?
When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.
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What the fuck am I doing?
The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.
What was I thinking?
You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.
You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.
Only Izuku.
Fuck.
You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.
You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.
But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.
Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?
“Have you done this before?”
The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”
“Skinny dipping?”
“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.
“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.
“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”
“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”
Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.
“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”
“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.
“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”
Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.
“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.
He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.
When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.
“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.
“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.
As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”
And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.
You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.
After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.
And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.
You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.
There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.
He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.
Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.
His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—
And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.
He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:
“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”
You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.
It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.
The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.
The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.
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Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.
He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.
No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?
It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:
“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”
“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.
“Yeah?”
You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”
Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”
“Then shut up and kiss me.”
You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick. 
Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.
He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.
He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).
Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.
The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.
“Is this okay?”
The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.
He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.
He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.
So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.
His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.
You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.
Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.
Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.
Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”
Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.
He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.
You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.
He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.
“Can I—”
“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.
Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.
He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.
Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.
He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.
“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.
As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.
He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.
The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.
“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”
“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”
He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.
While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.
He needs more of you.
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You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.
But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.
“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”
“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.
“I think I can manage, yeah.”
He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.
You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.
Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.
He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core. 
“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.
His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.
He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.
“Could you lay down on this for me?”
You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”
He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.
“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”
Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.
He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.
He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.
“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.
He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.
He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.
He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.
His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.
His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.
The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.
Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to. 
You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.
“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”
The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.
You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.
He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.
You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.
But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.
Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”
And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.
“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.
“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”
You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.
You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say:  “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”
“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”
“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.
He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”
“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”
“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”
He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.
“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”
You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”
There’s a silence.
“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.
“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”
You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.
“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.
“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.
There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.
Now it’s about time you make up for it all.
You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.
“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”
A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.
He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.
“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”
He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.
You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.
“Relax for me, baby.”
Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.
He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.
When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.
You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.
His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.
“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.
He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.
“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.
Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.
With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.
The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.
“Look at me. I wanna see you.”
“Izuku, I’m gonna—”
“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”
Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.
As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.
“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”
He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.
You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.
“You got everything?”
Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.
Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.
You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.
You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.
“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”
In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.
You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.
Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.
You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.
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goldenharystyles · 3 years
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Punishment part-2
warnings; - dom harry, wax play, electro-shock play, dirty talk, ropes, toys, bad words, edging,  bondage, whipping. 18+ .........9 years age gap (Yana is 9 years younger) send me requests and concepts please hope you enjoy 😊.
Harry’s pov;-
Yana and I had our dinner and right now we are watching an episode of friends. I’m letting her rest a bit so she can take so much more. She is in my lap, half, she is on my side, head on my chest hand wrapped around my waist, and legs upon mine. She does this when she is tired or when she knows I’m tired or mat at her.
''Harry'' she said'                                                                                                                                                         'hmm'' I mumberld
‘’Are you mad or upset with me?'' She asked picking her head from my chest to look at me. the sadness in her voice
‘’A little yeh’, but more like disappointed’’I said without looking at her. I can see from the corner of my eyes she was holding back tears. Yana is a very sensitive person, she devotes herself to me, she believes in me so much even I don’t believe in myself that much. I don’t think someone has ever loved me as much as she loves me. She’ll be all upset when I’m upset or even when she is sad and I’m happy she’ll be all happy. In this generation where I thought I’ll never really find anyone yana came into my life and filled me with love, so much love. She is always, always there for me. There is no single movement where I needed a shoulder to cry or celebrate something or needed a solution to some situation and yana wasn’t there. She is an old soul just like me, only wants to love nothing else in return. I hope she knows I love her more than anything in this world and I heartily appreciate everything she does for me.
She knows I like control in bed and she trusts me with her soul with that.
‘’I’m really sorry harry’’she said with a trembling voice.
‘’It’s fine’’I was a little disappointed but it’s not like it was so much of a deal. We both know I was just enjoying and I know she was sorry as soon as I asked about breaking my rule. I could see it in her eyes, they were teary but she didn’t cry.
‘’ I know it’s not fine. and that you’re unhappy too. I should have waited for you’’she was looking at me
‘’You’re taking the punishment for it, aren’t you? So it’s ok.’’I said truthfully
‘’I know I’m. But- I- I- Am just sorry’’she dropped her head a little. she never makes eye contact with me especially when I’m angry she gets scared it’s not that I scare her trust me it’s just she finds it hard.
‘’It’s ok love.’’I look at her I know if I don’t take her in my arms now she’ll start crying so I took her I’m my arms and kissed her all over her face.
‘’I love you harry’’she hugged me.
‘’ I love you more my love and I’m not upset with ya’. Alright? Don’t feel bad about it. Think about how you took your punishment. My strong girl. I’m so proud of ya’’I said and hugged her tight. We sat like that for another 10 minutes
10 min later;-
‘’ I’m ready’’she said suddenly
‘’Um- what’’I asked confusingly
‘’ I- um ready for whatever you have in mind’’her voice slow like perfect submissive, but I don’t want her to feel like submissive I just want control I don’t like when she looks down or speaks slowly. I want my girl to enjoy instead of taking what I am giving
‘’ Bub why are you talking to me in a slow voice and why is your head down instead of up, you’re very confident, than the way this?I asked rubbing her back for her comfort.
‘’ It’s just i.. I feel guilty. Like I’ve been caught, which I have but I’m like…guilty.’’She said looking up at me then immediately she looked down in her lap. I swear I saw her teary eyes and it breaks my heart.
‘’No need to feel bad love. And no need to cry too. You said you’re ready yeh’?She nodded
‘’then go to the red room and wait for me’’I said giving her a big smileShe didn’t smile back‘’bub if you’re gonna be like that then we are not doing anything,’’I added
‘’ No no no I’m-… I wanna go and see what have in store for me, let’s see what Mr. styles have got’’ she smiled and winked
‘Ahh- really huh call me Mr.styles one more time I dare you baby girl’’I grabbed her taking both of her wrists in one hand and tickling her
‘’ ahhh harry no, stop..stop’'
‘’Nah- uh uh I’m not stopping and I was thinking too that what should I add to your punishment’’I started ticking her harder
‘’ Ohh sorry I’m gonna pee harry stop. fuck’’she laughed
‘’ Whoah shameless child, you’ve got dirty mouth love’’I gasped dramatically
‘’ You’re acting like a child and you’ve got a filthier mouth, baby boy. And please stop I’m really gonna pee’’she pleaded to laugh
‘’We are not even started and you are begging to stop what a shame’’I teased she narrowed her eyes and laughed. There she is back to herself finally laughing I love her like this.
‘’We’ll see about that’’she winked knowing she’ll lose as always
‘’ Challenging me, my love?’’I raised my eyebrow. She nodded
‘’we’ll see when you’re begging me to stop and when you beg I’ll do it more so next time when you challenge me you’ll think ’’she stared at me. She clenched her thighs‘’ already wet love?’’ I asked
‘’No’’ she said quickly
‘’Don’t lie bub I saw you clenching your thighs’’
I stared at her she shook her head‘’so if I undress you right now you won’t be wet? I questioned She shook her head again
‘’Ohh if I undress you And I don’t see you wet you’re forgiven but if I checked and you’re wet you’re in for a terrible one. (Punishment) so again are you wet angel?’’
‘’Yes, daddy’’she said I smiled
‘’Does my filthy mouth gets you wet? Without me even touching you? How pathetic.’’I stated
‘’Yes, pathetic for you daddy no one else’’ she said shyly
‘’Yeah that’s my girl, you look so good when you smile Now, let's see how you look when you cry.’’ ‘’now go wait for me in the red room. Strip and do whatever I’ll be right there in 5 mins max’’ i said she nodded and went upstairs.
---------------------------
As I entered the room I was shocked she was wearing a sexy linger and was on her knees, Hands-on her lap and face down but not too much jus straight but down type god I love this girl so much. I smiled at her she was being good for me.
‘’Bub look at me’’I said she looked at me not sad or like submissive just yana my yana. The excitement in her eyes‘’ you look lovely in that bub and on you’re knees too’I winked at her with a smile.
‘’Wore just for you sir’’she smiled
‘’ Yea?’’She nodded
‘’Now pup get up and get there on the X’’I gestured (X means X shaped pillars, the one like 50 shades of freed had I the movie ig but this were thinner than that)
‘’Okay sir’’she said and went there I went to get some ropes. I know I can easily chain her and I don’t need ropes but I want her to remember this so I’m not gonna go easy. I lit some candles at the time and put them aside I took ropes and went to her
‘’Strip’’I said she obeyed.
''I want you to feel the rope burn your skin as it tightens around your fragile body. Let me hear your little whimpers, as you squirm needily. Beg me to fuck you, tell how much you want, no, NEED me.’'
Yana was so sensitive to my touch that, even if I touch her neck or kiss it she’ll be dripping. I tied her up with ropes hands on top of X and legs open too. Everything is tied and fully exposed for me to use however I want. And she can’t even move more than 2 inches.
''Such a dumb slutty rope bunny, turned on over just a few ropes binding you. Don't get me started on that preciously weak facial expression of yours. So cute and stupid, you just want to be used as a toy. Be good’’I ordered.I went behind her She was all naked for me. I ran my hands through her sides to her arms to her neck again to her sides to her thighs she was whining but couldn’t move too much.
‘’You like being tied up bunny? you like when daddy takes control over your body. Do you Like when you are all helpless to daddy? Like being used huh?’’I asked not expecting an answer I know my words get her wet so I ran my hand over her slit
‘’you’re dripping angle. I’ve not even touched you yet and look at you..dripping for me’’she moaned loudly I started kissing her neck. I held her throat with one finger making her look up and the other just resting around her neck. I started kissing her hard leaving hickeys all over the neck. And started rubbing her cilt slowly too She moaned
‘’feels so good sir’’
'’Yeah? There might be so much in your stomach because I didn’t let you cum right?’’I asked voice dominating
‘’Yes sir there is a lot in there’’she said weakly as I drawing a fast circle on her clit and pushed her lower stomach in
‘’ So small touch of mine and you’ll cum?''I asked
‘’Yes sir I’ll make a good mess for you please let me cum I’m so close please please let me’’she pleaded
‘’You’re gonna cum baby girl? Go ahead come’’I fasten my speed
‘’ Oh god yes yes I’m cumming sir’’she said and I pulled my hands off of her clit leaving her unsatisfied. she was a whimpering mess.
"The more you squirm, the more I will ruin your orgasm,”I threatened I held her breasts in my hand both of them they re exactly my hand size. I massaged them a little and went to stand in front of her. Her head was reacting on her shoulder. I attached my mouth to her left nipple sucking it and massaging it with my mouth. She moaned and tried to close her leg. Poor puppy. I smirk on her boob kissed all of her chest parts and backed off. Looking at her she is so helpless. I took oil in my hands and massaged her boob, her chest, her hands, her neck, her stomach, her legs, and her pussy in short whole body. She was shining from all the oil
‘’ pup don’t squirm much it will get you in trouble’’I warned she nodded and stayed still.
‘’Now, you’ll do as I say right?’She nodded
‘’ I’m gonna untied you one hand and you’ll do as I say’’I untied her right hand
‘’Draw slow circles to you clit baby and don’t stop, if you stop without me telling you. I’ll give you 3 ruined orgasms do you understand? You stop 1 time to feel relief and I give you 3 bad ruined orgasm. Whatever you want’’I said.
‘’ I understand sir’’she said I nodded. I came up with you wax candles in my hand she was shocked ‘’rub you clit bubs’’ I ordered. She started rubbing her over-sensitive clit. I dropped wax on her chest and held it there just moving slightly to cover up her boobs with wax. She hissed at burning
‘’Does it burn pretty girl?’’I asked dropping it on her nipple
‘’Yes sir too much’’she hissed hand still rubbing clit my both candles were nearly over
‘’good. Move your hands' fast dove’’I said looking at her hand. She did it faster
‘’Sir I’m close please please sir please let me cum’’she begged I smiled
‘’Go faster baby and stop pleading it’s not getting you anywhere, go faster’’ I ordered
‘’Ahhh ah-uh sir…’’she cried
‘’I said more faster can’t you listen to me’’I said voice up. She was going faster and faster I know when she is right on her edge and that she was planning on cumming too.
"It feels so good, though, doesn't it?" I smirk as she nodded she was right on the edge...‘’Stop’’ I said and she didn’t, she wanted to cum ‘’ I SAID STOP SLUT’’ I took her hand and tied it again. ‘’SLUT’’ I said shaking my head.
I took all of the candles wax and threw it all over her body except her cunt.
‘’Ahhhhhhhh sir burns’’she screamed I chuckled
‘’Yes baby scream this is just starting so think how much you’re gonna scream’’I smiled and she looked at me with pleading eyes. I took some more candles and again covered every single part of her body. She whined but couldn’t do anything except taking it. I smiled at her helplessness. Then I took one which was in glass (candle) and lit it up and let it be for some seconds till it’s was is melted a bit. I looked at her and grin her face drooped haha! I brought a candle near her wide open pussy she hissed at the feeling. I moved it around a bit and stooped on her clit a little further didn’t wanna actually burn her.
‘’There was so much ice in your underwear an hour ago right? She nodded ‘’so here’s a candle heat it up baby’’I smiled and drag the candle closer to her clit
‘’Shit sir burns please can’t whole body is on fire from wax sir please’’she pleaded I chuckled and threw all melted part on her pussy
‘’Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck shit it’s too much sir it burns uhhh’’she tugged to her restrains to feels some relief but bad luck?
‘’I know baby girl I know’’I kissed her teary cheeks I again took one candle and lit it and threw all the was on her body parts as well as her ass
‘’Sirrrrrr’’she cried
‘’Don’t scream I’m right here not in another room plus I don't think I'll be done with you anytime soon so don’t show me your puppy eyes’’I said
‘’Sir it burns so much it’ll leave marks sir please’’she pouted
‘’I rubbed oil before it won’t leave a mark but it sure will burn like hell when I do next thing which I’m gonna do after not right now. Right now I’m gonna clan your body, but not with my hands of course,’’her eyes widened and I grin at her ‘
’I’ll use some toys for that’’I went to get our thick 20-inch leather flogger I smiled at it.
‘’ I want no voices coming from you do you understand?’’I asked
‘’Yes sir’’she obeyed I took it into my hand and looked at her and hit it on her body with a smile. She screamed without voice. My poor baby. I did it again and again and again till there was almost no wax on her body her body was all red. No marks on her body just red
‘’Sir please’’she pleaded with teary eyes
''"excuse me? didn't tell you can speak. I’ve to gag you now. wait'’ i said and came with a gag and gagged her with a silicone ball gag ‘
’ now you look perfect. SLUT’’I chuckled
‘’There is still some wax on your body I think I’ve to clean’’I smiled and took a step back and hit her with flogger all over her body. She was screaming in gad which made me chuckle
‘’Sul plluz’’she pleaded again something she is doing all night. I was finished with flogging so I thought I’d take off her gag and I did
‘’Good girl’’I praised
‘’ standstill I’m gonna blindfold you. Hard time starts now’’I repeated the thing I said when I showed ice in her underwear
‘’But- sir’’I cut her off
‘’ No buts just shut and take it. You can scream or whatever all you want but don’t talk to me’’I wared
‘’Ok sir’’
I put a blindfold on her I went to the kitchen and took the thing I planed when I last came here. She’ll give-up I guess. I took wet napkins and ducked them into lemon water and put all of them around her body (not pussy) She screamed on top of her lunges
‘’fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck noooooooooo shit I can’t godddd please please I can’t’’
‘’There is my pathetic whore’’I rubbed the wet napkins I put around her body
‘’Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh god god god god pleaseeeee’’she whimpered For pussy I took' The faux leather spanking paddle’ and sat down on a stool in front of her
‘’didn’t wanna burn your pussy tho so……’’ Ismiled when she shook her head I was gaining to hir heer pussy but it was a bit uncomfortable.I untied her ‘’ go get on bed’’ I ordered the obeyed ''spread your hands and legs wide open’’ I said I tied her ankles to upper Sid of the bedpost (headboard) and hands to her ankles I even tied her thighs so she remains fully open I again took leather spanking paddle
‘’you’re gonna count with me 10 but if one is wrong or you miss count we’ll start again’’I said and didn’t give her a chance to say anything, and hit the paddle to her wide open pussy
‘’Fuck ahhhh hurts 1 one sir’’she screamed a little Again it hit
‘’two’’ ‘’three’’ ‘’four’’ ‘’five’’ ‘’six’’ ‘’seven’’
''Does it hurt puppy’’I asked as I was tapping on her clit
‘’ Yes sir it’s too much hurts’’
‘’Good as it should’’
I again hit with full force her pussy was so red
‘’Ahhhhhhhhh eight’’,
‘’nine’’ ‘’ten’’
‘’How are ya feeling baby, are you okay?’’I asked her she was still in a recovery zone
‘’Yes sir I’m okay’’she gave me a small smile
‘’Think you can take more?’’I asked coming hands on her body
‘’Not right now but after 15-20 mins yeas I guess’’ she said
‘’ That’s ok pup do you need something? Wanna drink water? Or eat something?''I asked wiping her tears
‘’Need some water my throat is dry’’she said and laughed a little
‘’ I bet it is. god, you scream so loud’’I dramatically put my finger in my ear and shook it.
‘’Haha not funny, shouldn’t have gone that hard the I wouldn’t have screamed’’she laughed
‘’I'm no mediocre baby’’ I smiled and kissed her
‘’now ya rest in that position cause I’m not gonna untie you. I’ve still got 1 chapter left’’
‘’Uhhhhh harry’’she good I slapped her ass hard
‘’owww’'
‘’It’s daddy to you’’I glared
‘’Oooo Mr. styles got angry’’
she teased I slapped her again on her ass and then her already beaten pussy ‘ahhhhhh fuck’’
‘’Behave and shut up I’ll give you water drink and rest for 10 mins’’I said and gave her boatel with straw in it. After 15mins;-
‘’Arey ya ok bubs still tired?’’I asked her she shook her head
‘’Nah just burns a little’’she said I nodded
‘’Ok so this is the last one and uh- we’ve never tried this one but I saw it’s safe and I’m gonna do to you it’s electroshock’’I said
‘’What I- uh- i.. dunno’’she said
‘’Oh I know everything and I know you too so don’t worry enjoy’’
I kissed her forehead she nodded
I took 4 clips and joined them with wires. I went to her and put 2 clips on her each nipple and the 2 on her pussy lips
‘’I’m gonna start the power clench your fist if it’s too much don’t scream’’ I told her
‘’I’ll try my best sir’she added I started the machine she jolts from the first shock but I didn’t stop and continued on medium setting I took the vibrator with we used before
‘’Meet your friend from earlier bunny’’I smiled when she shook her head
‘’No more edeging please’’she said
''My favorite pass time is listening to your sweet moans, and watching you squirm as I hold your favorite vibrator against your cute pussy. And I’m free till this shock shocks you up.’’I laughed and changed the setting to a little bit up of electro
‘’I’ll hold this vibrator to your clit. I'll use you. But you won't get to cum do you understand?’’I raised eyebrow
‘’Yes sir, I do’’I changed electro to highest and she screamed
‘’ Don’t scream hold it in’’I shouted over her screams
‘’Sir I can’t shit’’she can feel shock all over her body I took one clip go her pussy lip and clipped it to her clit and started again. Having shock direct on her clit she jolted
‘’’Ahhhhhhhhhhh siirrrrr mmhhhhh’’she screams but then held them in I started the vibrator on mid-speed and hold it against her clit. After 1 min max
‘’P-please sir, I can’t take it anymore. Stop it, I wanna c—‘’I smirked and increases the speed she moaned
"you fucking whore, you need to learn to control yourself.”I glared at her and put vibe on the highest"another word and you won't be begging to cum, you'll be begging me to stop."
‘’ Sir please I wanna cum please, I’ve held a lot please’’she cried
‘’ok baby girl let go’’ I rubbed her pussy with a vibrator as well.
‘’Really’’she asked I nodded with a smile ‘’thank you so much goddddd’’ I didn’t say anything
‘’I’m cumming’’and she came.
''You came? But don't expect me to stop. I'll vibe you till your cheeks get covered with tears, lips bleed and swell, wrists get red from being tied up, eyes roll back in your head and breathing gets uncontrollable. I want you wrecked from top to the bottom’’I said and started moving the vibrator fast on her clit. After some seconds
‘’Sir I’m cumming please let me’’she asked
‘’Who stopped you cum and then cum again cum cum cum cum keep cumming.’’ I said
‘’ I can’t take anymore’’
‘’ Of course, you can you don’t have a choice’ I laughed
‘’Sir--‘’ Iput my hand on her mouth and stopped her begs then she came again and again and again and again and again and again and again idk at least around 7-8 times,
I switched off everything
I started to untie her
‘’love are you ok?’’I asked and kissed her writs
‘’Yeah i’s sir’’she teased
‘’Hey I’m Harry or baby or baby boy to you’’I said kissing her lips
‘’Yeh baby boy I’m good just can’t feel anything that’s all’’she replied
‘’Are ya hurt somewhere? Did I hurt you or went too hard’’I got worried because she did cum many times
‘’Nah, it’s fine I’m good you just have to take me everywhere that’s all’’she laughed
‘’Fucked the shit out of ya didn’t I?’’I smirk
‘’Yeah yeah’'
‘’Hey don’t talk to me like that do wanna do that all again?’’I raised an eyebrow
‘’Nahh nahh god no’’she said and I smiled.
‘’Good hope you learned your lesson, ok now I’m gonna run a bath and put some candles just thy way you like''said she nodded very tiredly
‘’Ok H’’I got off of the bed and filled the bathtub lit candles.
‘’Let’s go bub I’ll pick you up common now get up’’I said touching her shoulder so she could give me some space to carry her
‘’Hmmshe replied I took her to bath and set her down climbing back of her I took her In my lap in the bathtub and bathed her and relaxed. I brought her back to the bedroom with a towel around her and got her a fresh pair of my t-shirt and her panties and dressed her.
‘’Come love let's cuddle and sleep’ she came to me and wrapped her arms around my waist and I took her head and placed it on my chest. She was all over me.
‘’You took all of that so bravely love gonna be honest didn’t think you’ll be able to take that much I’m so proud of ya’’she didn’t speak but kissed my chest.
‘’What did we learn today pretty girl?’’I asked
‘’Not to touch daddy’s pussy without his permission’’she said voice low I smiled
‘’Good bub. I love you so so much I’m sorry if it was too much’’I rubbed her back
‘’Nahh, I’m good. I love you more and you know it’’she said. And I know she’ll love me more than anything.
‘’Good night love’’she didn’t reply was asleep when I look. My baby.
thanks for reading. sorry for mistakes 😅 please reblog if you liked😊
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dameronology · 3 years
Text
the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}
summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)
this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!
- jazz
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They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.
And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.
There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.
Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.
At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.
You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.
What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.
‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.
‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’
‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’
‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’
‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.
Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.
Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.
He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.
(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)
‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.
‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’
‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’
‘- but you are not bulletproof!’
‘Neither are you!’
‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’
‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’
‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’
The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.
‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’
‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’
Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.
‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’
‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’
You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’
‘Y/N.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.
‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’
‘- that’s not what this is about.’
‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’
‘It’s not about anything.’
‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’
‘It’s because I love you!’
‘Well, I love you too!’
‘Great!’
‘Fine!’
‘Wonderful!’
‘Brilliant!’
‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’
‘Me too!’
‘We should probably stop shouting!’
‘Good idea!’
You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?
Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.
You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.
‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.
‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’
‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.
‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’
812 notes · View notes
idy-ll-ique · 3 years
Text
My Little Secret.
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Innocent!F!Reader
Genre : Fluff, little bit of Angst
Warnings: none
Requested: nope
Summary: Y/N listens to music 24/7 on Spotify. At first Ransom is irritated, but now he knows just how to use the application to his benefit. I mean, come on, it can't be considered stalking if it's his wife, right?
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! oml a ransom drysdale fanfiction 😳 if I ever meet this asshole in real life I'd sock him in the jaw but in fiction? mamma mia. enjoy!
---
Does she really love an app more than me?
Ransom scoffed to himself as he opened his laptop, clicking on the music app, Spotify. He rarely used it, but his wife was obsessed with it. She listened to music 24/7; singing along to the soft tunes in her playlists while working, reading, cleaning, cooking, anything. Ransom thought it was insane how submerged she was in the activity.
Until that activity gave him an upper-hand in their relationship.
When he had first opened the app on his laptop, he was a tad bit surprised at the "Friends Activity" feature. He saw her account. Then, as more months passed, he started noticing how when she was happy, she'd always be listening to some happy playlist, when she was sad she'd be listening to sad songs, et cetera. And he started using it to his advantage.
Now, everyday before leaving his office he'd check the app to see what playlist she was listening to. If it was a happy, dance playlist, well and fine. But a sad one? Ransom's mood would also sour because my darling is not feeling okay. While going home, he'd buy something for her; mostly flowers or chocolates, or a nice little trinket that he'd find in the displays of shops that he thought his wife would enjoy.
He never told her about it. What he was doing would be considered stalking but come on, is it stalking if she's your wife? As the app finally loaded, his eyes immediately strayed to the Friends Activity and his heart clenched when he saw her listening to her sad playlist that she had named Melancholy. Sighing, he turned off the laptop and left his office for the night.
As he drove back home, he stopped outside a flower shop and bought an adorable little bouquet of mixed flowers. "She'll love it," the florist assured him, assuming he was buying it for his significant other. He gave her a quick smile and got back into the car, driving home as fast as he could. When he reached home, his heart broke at the sniffle he heard.
"Kitten?" Y/N's head shot up at her husband's voice as she hurriedly wiped her tears, getting up from her spot on the couch. "Hi, welcome home," she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips, smiling widely to avoid being caught. "Hello, how was your day?" He wanted to sigh, to chide her for keeping her bad mood from him, but he only smiled at how cute she looked trying to hide her true feelings.
"It wasn't bad! So, shower first and dinner later or dinner first?"
Now was the time. "Kitten, the truth, please. How was your day?" He raised a stern eyebrow when her face fell. How does he always read me so well? Knowing she couldn't hide now, she hung her head low as her shoulders sagged. "It was bad," she muttered. Ransom pulled her close, her head resting on his chest, his chin atop her head. "What happened? I swear if it's those fucking coworkers of yours—"
Her silence gave him the answer. The thing is, when Ransom and Y/N had started going out, everyone in the city was shocked. A cute, innocent little thing like her dating an asshole like him? Why? She had lost quite a few friends when she told them, but Ransom was there for her. "You don't need them, you have me." He was right. While the world saw him as a first-class jerk, he was the softest soul with her.
Her priorities were always placed before his. He took care of her, treated her like no previous boyfriend of hers had, and within 2 years of dating, he had proposed. People were even more shocked. She managed to get him to settle down?! How?! Then the gossip began. "He has to be cheating, I mean look at him. Look at her," she had heard one time after the engagement. That had made her super upset.
"Ransom, they're talking… someone said you were cheating on me…" She had broken down on his chest that night, crying her eyes out. And Ransom had immediately switched off the television. He sat up, holding her close. "You know I'd never do that, angel. Why would I, when you're with me? Do you really think those women out there have the same effect on me that you do? Huh?"
"Well, they said… they said I was ugly."
"What?! Those fucking whores—"
"Ransom, don't call them that," she had chided, swatting his chest. He caught the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip. "If it makes you feel better, no, I'm not cheating on you. I love you a little too much to do that. You mean the world to me, Y/N, there's no one on this planet I'd rather be with than you. And you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, in and out," he told her sincerely.
Her crying ceased. "Thank you." And he held her close the entire night, rubbing her back as she slept on him. People talking about him? He could handle that, God knows he had been handling that for years. But them talking about her? His perfect, angelic, goddess-like fiancée? No, no, he wouldn't handle that. That whole thing was 4 years ago. People still talked.
"What did they say to you, Y/N?" he asked, coming back to the real world.
"They asked me why I was still with you." He exhaled loudly through his nose when Y/N's arms tightened around him. "I told them I loved you. You are nice, you're not what everyone says you are. But then Amy talked about… about how you used to be— what was the word she used? Oh, uh, yeah, she said you were something of a Casanova before you met me. But I told her that was over."
His arms snaked around her waist, his fingers gently dancing over her hips as she continued speaking. "She insisted that people can't just change over a small period of time. I tried ignoring her but then she started gossiping with someone else about you. And then I snapped at her. But you know me…" Ransom hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead.
His wife had a docile soul. Everything from her looks to her mannerisms was soft. She couldn't yell, she couldn't tell people off— she was too pure to do that. The world needed people like her, to be honest. That was also one of the things he liked about her. Sometimes, he thought about how beneficial it would be for her to hold her own in a fight, but his ego shoved the thought down each time.
He liked being her big protector. He loved taking care of her like that. "Yes, I know, angel. You're too good for this world, you know that?" he mumbled, slightly pulling away from her so he could cup her face, looking into her eyes. She huffed and looked away. "I'm too soft. I can't help it. I don't want to be this way." He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. "Oh no, you should definitely be this way."
"Why?"
"Because it suits you. Don't change for people who don't even care about you. I like you like this; gentle, caring… you have the biggest heart in the world, Y/N. And I want to keep it that way. Don't let people ruin your innocence. Keep being you." He pressed her closer when she started sniffling again. "You're too good to me," she pouted and he laughed. "That's my duty as your husband, kitten. Look, I bought flowers."
He took out the bouquet from his bag, smiling when Y/N's eager hands accepted it. "Thank you! Oh, these are so beautiful! Let me replace the flowers in the vase on the dining table!" Squealing, she walked away from him, leaving him to stare after her with an infatuated smile. You have no idea what you do to me, angel.
---
"Night, Ran," Y/N yawned, keeping her phone away. He held his arm up and Y/N snuggled into his side, allowing him to wrap his arm around her side. "Night, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her nose. He watched TV for some time until the match got boring; then he switched it off and carefully lay down on the bed, about to doze off when Y/N's phone rang. He blinked. Who'd be calling at his hour?
He lifted the phone off the nightstand, grimacing when he saw the Caller ID. Amy. As soon as he picked the phone up, Amy started blabbering. "Hi! Sorry I'm calling so late, Y/N, but I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you at work today. It was wrong of me, really, I hope you can forgive me!" Ransom stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He had been hearing that line for years.
"Ransom, it's okay, she apologized, she won't be doing it again. She told me so herself!"
It was never the last time.
"Are you done?" he snapped and Amy froze on the other side. "M-Mr Drysdale—" "Listen, I don't want to hear it. I'm not Y/N; she has a heart of gold, God, I wonder why I let her hang out with people whose hearts are made of pure shit. How many times have you apologized for the same thing, huh? Using my girl's pure heart to your fucking advantage like that?"
"You're being—"
"I'm being what? I'm being rude? Who started it? If you ever mention our marriage in front of Y/N again, I'll have your fucking head." Amy bristled on the other side. "Are you threatening me?" Ransom smirked. "If you don't want to be threatened, I suggest you keep your nose out of other people's business. What mine and Y/N's relationship is like is no one's concern."
Amy stayed silent. "Gossiping won't get you anywhere. I have the best lawyers in the city, and I swear, if Y/N comes crying to me one more time about how someone was rude to her, I'll sue. Trust me, I will take legal action. Is that understood?" Amy quaked at his menacing tone. "Y-Yes, sir." Ransom's lips curled into a devious smile. "Great." And he ended the call.
"Ransom, who was that?" Y/N sleepily murmured next to him. She hadn't heard a word of the conversation, but could tell he was on the phone. "No one you need to worry about, sweetheart, go to sleep. I'm here." He lay down next to her, pulling her close. "You know, I have a question." He nodded at her to go on. "How do you always know when I'm going to be in a bad mood?"
"What do you mean?" he smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. "I mean, I have been wondering for years! Everytime I happen to be in a bad mood, you bring home a gift. It's like— it's like you can read my mind! How?! It can't be a coincidence, it has happened a lot of times for it to be a coincidence," she rambled and Ransom's heart fluttered at how innocent and adorable she looked.
"I have my ways," he teased, lightly poking her nose. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?" she pouted and he couldn't help but lean forward, pressing his lips to hers. "Nope, just so I can keep surprising you." She giggled, snuggling further into his arms until her face was pressed into his bare chest. "I love you so much, Ransom," she whispered. "I love you more, my sweet little angel."
Both of them went to sleep with giddy smiles on their faces.
Oh, and the Spotify thing? That was his little secret. Shh, don't tell anyone!
---
A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!
925 notes · View notes
bokettochild · 3 years
Note
request: sometimes time likes to be alone underwater. with his iron boots and zora helmet, it's easy to just take a stroll at the bottom of a deep enough lake, away from the rest of the world. he did not expect, however, to find legend relaxing inside a small hole in the stone. Mer Legend.
Oh boy! I was vibing with this one for a while, I just wanted to make it perfect!
I'm pretty happy with what I made too, but man is it long!
(I hope this makes you happy, anon!)
When he and Malon have kids, he hopes they don't have this many.
Nayru knows he loves his boys, but they can get a bit much sometimes. They can get loud and overwhelming, and as a man who’s used to traveling primarily alone, with maybe a fairy trailing behind him or his trusted mount, it’s a bit overwhelming. He’s not used to being around people so much, Malon and Talon are his only consistent company and even then, the work they share means that often times it’s only him and his thoughts as he mucks, mends and tends things around the ranch.
Sometimes, when the boys get especially rowdy and playful, it’s just nice to get a moment of quiet to himself. Between Sky and Twilight he knows that nothing overly chaotic will go down, and he trusts the boys to keep each other in check.
So, when they come to the Pup’s Hyrule, their battle in this world over and most of their number restless as they wait for the next portal to arrive and whisk them away, Time allows his boys their space, and with a quick exchange with the only two he can trust to not burn something down (at least while the younger ones can still see them) he heads off into the forest to get a little space to himself.
Of course, he can’t really go far, not if he needs to hurry back, but he doesn’t really need to. His destination is Lake Hylia, which is only a short distance from their camp, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and, when he gets there, he allows himself to actually breathe for once.
Wild, Warriors and Wind had been locked in a game of cards when last he left, the champion soundly beating the other two both at cribbage while Wars bemoans his poor luck, and Twilight and Sky were discussing wood carving with Hyrule, with the occasional comment from the smithy, who is only too happy to throw in something related every so often as he looks up from his book. That leaves himself and Legend, and he’s long since learned that the vet was one to disappear for his own space when possible.
He’s not overly worried. Legend has items and experience that far outmatch most of their group, and if he runs into trouble Time has little doubt that he’ll be able to get himself out of it to at least gather reinforcements, if not handle the issue by himself.
A deep breath of relief escapes him as the eldest of the heroes pulls a few items from his own bag. The boots are a familiar if not welcome weight as he slips out of his armor and dons the tunic and cap of the Zora, his breath bubbling softly as he steps into the lake before him with a contented sigh.
The cool water floods over the top of him, tugging at his hair and bubbling in his lungs, but it’s doesn’t burn the way that it should. He breathes easily beneath the rippling surface of Lake Hylia, the Zora tunic granting him freedom beneath the waves.
There is little sound beneath, only the muffled noise from above the surface, the flow of the water and-
Time’s ears prick forwards as a single blue eye turns to search the space around him.
Someone is singing.
It’s a haunting sort of melody, one that draws you in and makes you dazed, and Time finds himself stumbling over his own feet as he searches for the source. It is not a Cursed song, nor anything powerful from what he can recall, in fact, it’s almost familiar. It sounds similar to something he hears hummed about their camp at night while the boys take watch. He’d never been able to place which of the young heroes hummed the lilting melody, but he’s let it carry him off to sleep many a time before. Only this song, the one that twines about his head and whispers in his ears and makes his feet trek closer and closer to its source, this song is different, it’s haunted and Broken, and it is sung in a Voice.
Not a voice like most of those above the surface have, but a Voice like a fairy or spirit might have. One that pulls at your very soul and sings in your mind, un-hampered by wind or waves, able to carry across miles to be heard by those that it Sings too.
Heavy feet trod faster.
He’s under no spell, but he is a Link, and by now he has learned that all of their kind are blessed or cursed with courage and curiosity both, and to be without the latter is simply unthinkable for the young-at-heart hero. Something –the forest imp in him maybe- tells him to find the Voice, find the Singer.
He’s only made it part of the way across the lake, hasn’t even left the shoreline properly, when the song stops. Unease creeps over him as he looks around, alert and ready for trouble, only to see nothing but the peaceful stillness of the lake bottom around him.
There! His mind supplies as something pink flits in the corner of his vision, and he’s whipping around to come face to face with-
Long tangled hair drifts in the waves as glistening scales reflect the light pouring down through the waves. Too deep, too dark eyes stare at him in shock for a brief moment, and then-
The creature, the thing, is gone in an instant. Whipping away as it’s glimmer fades into the waves around him, speed no doubt granted by the brilliant tail of the thing sending it rocketing out of his grasp before he even has a chance to speak.
He tried to follow it. He does! But quite soon the adult part of his mind is reminding him how dangerous the thing could be, and that he still has his boys to return to back on the surface. It’s been exactly thirty-two minutes and thirteen seconds since he left them at their camp, and by now they usually would have sent someone to check and make sure that whatever member of their party had strayed off was alright.
Removing his boots is all it takes to float to the surface, despite the fact that he still holds the things in his hands, and it’s with no small amount of relief that he realizes that the bank of the lake is free of other heroes.
Time gathers his things together, wringing out his hair and clothes before returning to his normal gear and heading back to the camp.
Smiles and chuckles greet him as the young heroes tease.
“Go for a swim, Old Man?” Legend quirks a brow, staring up from his place by the fire.
Time doesn’t answer him, but he does shake his head violently enough to spray the younger heroes with water, earning shouts and shrieks from them as they try and shield themselves from the wet. “Seriously, Time?” Warriors moans, wiping lake water from his face. “What are you, a dog?”
Time smirks at the captain and, to everyone's surprise (which produces no small amount of delight for him), he barks.
“What sorts of people have you met in your adventures?” Sky asks a couple of days later, head cocked to the side as he watches his brothers. “You all talk about so many races, but I don’t think I've heard of most of them.”
“Well,” Wild smiles, there’s a glint in his gaze that isn’t quite mischief, but it’s a warning to be wary anyway, because they all know what a crack-pot their cook can be at times. “There’s Hylians, of course, and Sheikah, Yiga, Gerudo, Rito, Gorons, Zora and koroks! You’ve probably already met the Sheikah, since you mentioned knowing an Impa during your journey, and the Yiga are an offshoot of that group.”
Twilight blinks and stares, Warriors furrowing his brow as he two older heroes stare at the younger, but Wild seem entirely unaffected.
“Gerudo are a desert people. They’re really tall, and extremely strong! Most of their race have long red hair and slightly darker skin than the people around Hyrule. They are a society of all woman, with only one man being born to them every hundred years. They worship the goddess Din for the most part, and live out of an opulent city set in the desert where they specialize in the crafting of weapons and jewelry, and the farming of exotic plants.” The champion then proceeds to run down traits and knowledge about the other races, matter-of-factly, as if the details he is sharing are things that everyone from the surface knows.
“Wow.” Sky laughs as Wild finishes. “I had no idea.”
“There’s also the minish.” Four adds. “And the Wind Tribe, who are sky people, of course.”
Sky looks curious, but Four says nothing more, instead gesturing to the other heroes to share their thoughts, which they do.
“Terminans.” Time offers. “Very similar to Hylians.”
“Ordonians.” Twilight adds with a fond smile. No explanation is needed.
The others all nod along, but Legend rolls his eyes. “Humans, like, non-Hylian humans, Shifters,” The vet stares upwards with a light scowl as he ticks the races off of his fingers. “Technically they’re humans too, but Wild counted the Sheikah and Gerudo, so there’s also the Lorulians, Labrynninians, Holodrumese folks, Hytopians, Drablanders, Subrosians, Catalians-” Legend frowns. “I could swear there are more but I can’t really recall.”
Time, for whatever reason, he can’t really say why, cocks his head. “Any water people other than Zora?”
The vet snaps his fingers. “Mer-folk! Thank you, Time. I guess fae and animal folk count on that note.”
There’s a scoff and Warriors is leaning forwards with a smirk. “Fairies and animals, sure, but mer? Seriously, Legend? Have you even met a mer before?”
“Many times.” The veteran drawls, cocking a brow in the captain’s direction. “On multiple adventures. What about you, cap? Jealous you couldn’t snag one for your guild of brides?”
Warriors blusters about indignantly, earning laughter from the others as Legend smirks, but the man recovers quickly enough. “I do not have a guild of brides! That is- that is utterly disgusting!”
“Could have fooled me.” Legend teases, sipping some water from a flask.
“Give him a break.” Twilight snickers, shoving the vet playfully.
The unfortunate thing about Twilight’s shoves though is that the ranch hand doesn’t seem to know his own strength, and Legend is small enough that the light push is enough to send him scrabbling to not hit the ground. More laughter rings about their camp, but this time at the vet's expense, as Legend topples over into the dirt, spilling his drink and failing his arms as he goes.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Legend huffs, pulling himself back up and dusts off his clothes, scowling at the water spilled on him. “Great.”
“Oh, come on, you came back soaked to the skin earlier, what’s a bit of water going to hurt you, huh, vet?” Warriors ribs, smirking.
Legend shoots him a half-hearted glare.
“Legend,” Time starts slowly. “How would you describe the mer?”
The vet pauses, gaze resting maybe a moment too long as his hands as he brushes off the hem of his tunic. He’s already done so and there’s really no reason for him to do it again, but he does anyway. “What you’d expect.” He shrugs haltingly. “Hylian on top, fish beneath. Tail, long hair, that sort of thing.”
The old man hums. Legends ears twitch, nose shivering slightly as violet eyes flit over their group. “Care to expand on your sky people story, Four?”
“I’m good.” The smithy replies lazily.
Time would pass it off as a strange one-time thing, he would, but there are... other factors at play.
They’ve traveled to Four’s time, fighting off monsters and solving puzzles the same as they’ve always done. The boys are taking some downtime, playing hide and seek, and just like the last time, Time takes himself down to the river they’ve made camp ear and dons his Zora gear.
He isn’t expecting to see the creature, the mer, again, much less hear them singing -after all, this is a Hyrule far before his Pup’s- but there the creature is. It- or they- frolic in the water, chasing fish and singing softly. The tune is lighter than the last one he heard, a different song entirely, but there is no denying that it is the same mer.
Gold flecked, petal pink scales shimmer beneath the twisted lights that invade the water, hair of the same colors flowing in the current as long fingers, tipped with pointed claws, reach out to swipe at the fish swimming wildly away. They don’t catch anything, but Time hears it giggle anyways, the tune of its voice bubbling in merriment as it rolls like and otter and turns to explore some other part of the river bed.
The cursed curiosity of a hero niggles in Time’s mind. How is the same mer from before in this timeline, ages before Twilight would even be born? And why do they play and explore as if they’ve never seen this river bed before in their life?
Long claws pull through sand, and although their hair blocks their face from his view, he can still hear the warble of delight as the creature removes something sparkling and bright from the river bed. The mer floats in place, turning the item over in their hands curiously before whisking it out of sight and returning to their search.
A mer that likes treasure, huh? Why is he unsurprised?
His own soft laugh startles them, and for a half of a moment, golden ringed, violet eyes, wide and bright and full of shock, meet his own.
The mer is gone before he can make a move.
He asks Legend about it the next day. As they travel along the path towards the nearest town, Time falls back to ask the vet more about mer.
“Do mer like treasure?”
Legend starts, eyes wide as they meet his own, and something in the back of his mind is nagging him that the look in the vet’s eyes is somehow familiar. “What?”
“Do mer like treasure?” He repeats himself.
Legend stares at him, blinking slowly as they continue along the path, but eventually the vet shakes his head and answers. “Depends on the mer. They’re people too, Time, they can have varying interests and hobbies. There is no standard for mer. None.”
“Don’t they all swim at least?”
Legend’s gaze is flat. “There are disabled Hylians aren’t there? Not all Hylians can walk, and not Mer can swim. Some just choose not to because they don’t like it!”
Time frowns. How does the vet know so much about mer culture? “How do you know this?”
The vet shrugs, eyes darting away. “I’ve been a lot of places and met a lot of people. Mer are no exception.”
“I thought you hated swimming and the water?” Wind breaks in, falling back to join the two of them with an odd look on his face. He looks like a puppy and it’s killing Time not to ruffle the kid’s hair.
“Didn’t always.” Legend returns, smiling wryly down at the sailor. “But enough of that. The real question here is if you’ve ever met one, sailor.”
“A mer?” Wind furrows his brow, looking away with a soft sigh. “The water in my world isn’t safe for the people who lived in it. There’s hardly even any fish in most places. The Zora in my time had to adapt to the air instead in order to survive.”
Awkward silence falls over them, the vet looking guilty for a half a moment before he settles a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “The goddesses aren’t always fair, Maliit, it’s not your fault.
Time hums his agreement, heart aching for yet another young hero and a world that suffered for Time’s failure to have properly saved it.
He sees the mer again. Not just when he’s in the water himself, but when he’s keeping watch during the night or on occasion when he goes fishing with Twilight. The Pup says nothing about seeing gold and pink beneath the water, but Time finds himself watching it all the same.
It darts beneath the dock they’re fishing on one time, and when Twilight’s line gets a tug, the rancher pulls it up only to find the one of his boots dangling from the other end.
Time can’t help it, he laughs.
So, this mer is a prankster, huh?
He takes to seeking them out, trying to catch their attention or try to talk to them, but nothing works. The minute that gold and violet eyes meet his own, petal pink scales flick deftly in the waves and the mer is swimming away.
But Time isn’t dumb.
He knows that the same mer cannot reasonably exist across all of time, not with all the changes that come to the world with each hero. He knows that this being is somehow following them, and h’s got a rather good idea exactly how it’s happening.
It’s a long shot, but he knows for a fact that Legend is always gone from camp before he sees the creature, and enough times startling the vet when asking about mer has taught him that the expressions between the two are the same. All he knows on the mer’s face is shock, but the vet’s eyes glimmer the same shade of violet, even if they are different in size and shape, and the petal pink hair that the vet comes out of the forest with one evening after their group was separated is uncannily similar to the shade of the mer.
They’ve made camp again, and rather than climbing into the water when he catches a moment alone, Time settles on the shore, not in the mood to be in the water but in need of its calming song. The air has been tense the past few days, and Time welcomes a brief moment to relax, forcing himself not to think of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side or the ragged breath that wheezes between the rancher’s lips.
Twilight will be fine, he reminds himself. Hyrule and Warriors had worked together to tend the wound and while it would definitely leave a scar, the danger of losing their beloved friend and brother (and maybe son?) is not so high anymore.
He welcomes a free breath, away from the hurt gazes of his boys as they try and process that their beloved canine friend and the rancher are one and the same. A chance to think without having to stop those who were out of the know from bombarding those who were in it with questions.
He’s glad to be free of the questions himself.
Legend seems to be too, if the glint of pink beneath the waves is to be believed.
He doesn’t approach this time, doesn’t try entering the water to speak. He’s tired and he wants his spae, and he imagines Legend would like his own too. So, instead, he sits on the bank, feet trailing in the water and ocarina on his lips as he plays softly.
The tune is a sweet one, one he’d written himself that lilts and dips softly, very nearly perfect for a dance, but far more suited to a night by a fire or watching the sunset. And sunset it is, fading light stretching out across the water, glinting of the surface and reflecting off of gold and pink-
He stops, eye wide as he turns towards the flash in his vision.
Gold and violet stare back at him, framed in curling pink as Legend freeze half-way through pulling on his tunic again.
Gold fades just as the scales dissapear and leave the vet siting on the shore, tunic still bunched around his shoudlers and violet eyes wide with fear as he regards his leader.
“I won’t tell.” Time forces, turning away his gaze and returning his focus to the instrument in his hand. He doesn’t play, but he doesn’t look up either.
“It’s an item.” Legend forces, strained. His voice is still tainted with whatever power had shifted him between forms, and it’s sweeter and more melodious than normal. “I found it on my third adventure. Got cursed.”
“Like the rancher?” Time hums softly, not having to look up to know that Legend is shifting nervously, foot tapping madly at the ground beneath him.
“Yeah.” Legend huffs.
“Okay.” And he does look up them, calm and as open as he can make himself seem as he meets the vet’s gaze.
“Just okay?” One brow cocks as Legend crosses his arms.
“Just okay. It’s your secret, Legend. I can’t change what I’ve seen, but I won’t tell the others either.”
Legend nods, wary bit willing to accept the words, if only for now. “If you say so.”
They’re on their way back to camp, Legend carrying an armload of fish and Time carrying both of their bags when the vet stops and glares at him. “I don’t want to hear any jokes, alright? I get enough of those from Twilight and Sky.”
“They know?” The old man tilts his head in question.
Legend flushes, ducking his head and setting off again at a speed some might label a scurry. “No. Hurry up, these fish are gonna rot!”
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Waves lap around his head and it’s all Time can do to break the surface, coughing and hacking as he struggles to remain above the water.
The portal had come at the worst time ever, and no one had been ready to be dropped into the center of the ocean.
Lightning crackles overhead as waves swirl and crash about him. The ocean rages and Time is again reminded how small Hylian’s are in the face of Mother Earth herself.
“Boys!” The shout rasps from his throat as he spins to look about, praying to every deity he knows that he’ll find the rest of them safe and sound, or at the very least together. Never mind that Twilight still can’t walk, much less swim. Never mind the smithy’s shattered arm and Wild’s fear of the water. He can’t panic about those right now, he has to find them!
“Over here!” Sky’s voice answers him. The Chosen Hero clings to the shivering form of the smithy, both are soaked and trembling, but they’re managing to stay above the waves.
“My Hyrule!” Wind calls out as Time strikes out towards them, and the sailor continues once he’s close enough to see that at least five of his boys are safe. “We’re near land,” Wind nods in a random direction and Time wonders briefly how the sailor even knows that. “It could be a challenge in these waves, but we can make it. Have you seen the others?”
Hyrule looks up at him hopefully, the water-logged traveler fighting madly to stay above the water but succeeding despite the waves. Time reminds himself to help the boy learn to swim more effectively later, and more importantly how to properly tread water, but for now he focuses on answering Wind. “You're the firsts. We’ll have to hope the others are alright, getting y’all to safety is my first concern.
“But Wild!” Hyrule splutters, choking on some water as Time swims over to give the traveler someone to cling to. Freezing fingers latch ahold of his armor as teeth chatter, the waves are neither kind nor warm and with their health as it is he’s certain someone is going to end up with a cold when this is all over. “And Twilight! A-and Legend and Wars! They’re out there somewhere!”
“We have to hope Legend and Warriors can elp the other two. We can’t do them any good if we’re fighting to stay above ourselves.” He tries to same calm, but his own mind and heart scream with the same message that Hyrule’s voice does, and its all he can do to push it down.
Thunder rolls overhead and waves beneath as they push off towards the shore, each of the older heroes aiding a younger one as Wind guides them all towrads the supposed island.
Time hs never been so relieved to see sand in his life, and as Hyrule pulls himself up the bach and Wind helps Sky to settle Four, Time can only pray that he’ll find his way back again. “I’m going to look for the otehrs. Wind, stay and help Sky.” The sailor looks as if he wants to hesitate, but he knows better than anyone how a small body can be lost to the waves much easier than an adult. “Make a fire, warm up as best you can. Keep an eyes out. I’ll come back if- when I find the others.”
He stops only to shed his armor and don his Zora gear, but a single dive beneath the water is enough to tell him that it’s for naught. Wind wasn’t joking about his water being toxic, and a single breath of the stuff leaves Time heaving as soon as he breaks the surface.
His chances of finding the boys have lowered considerably.
Nayru above, don’t let anyone have sunk beneath!
Time swims for all he is worth, pushing past weariness as he battles each and every wave. And he’s just beginning to lose hope when he catches sight of something silver reflecting in the water as lighting flashes above.
“Time!”
Blue whips around to meet its twins as Warriors comes to swim beside him. “Have you found any of the others?”
“Wind, Sky, Hyrule and Four.” he breathes back. “You?”
The captian looks rueful but nods to his side. “Legend.”
Time can’t help but start as Legend’s eyes peek above the surface. Golden and violet are glassy in the pale ace of the vet, but they’re there and that means that Legend is alive.
“I’ve officially met my first mer.” Warriors sighs, but there’s worry in the captains voice and face both.
“Split up.” Legend’s voice rasps, and there none of the melodic song that Time is used to hearing from this form of the vet.
Legend is pale, far too pale.
“What’s-”
“Wind’s world.” Warriors tells him. “Water here is toxic.”
The water is toxic. The water, which mer have to breath to stay alive, is toxic.
Time’s gaze shoots to the vet but there’s only a flick of gold and pink as he disappears beneath the waves. Warriors groans.  “He keeps doing that! I swear, I have no way of knowing if he’s even still there, but he still insists on disappearing like the little shit he is.”
Usually, Time would scold his brother for such a tone, but he knows that Warriors is just sacred. He’s terrified, and it leaks into his voice and his actions, and the only way that the soldier knows how to hide the fear is by biting back with venom, not dissimilar to the vet’s own actions.
They swim together, searching and calling out for the two missing heroes. Hope is beginning to fade and Time can feel a gnawing fear eating away at his heart as he thinks of the gaping wound in his Pup’s side and the likelihood that Twilight would even be able to swim with it.
His pup’s chances aren’t high.
“Look!” Warriors shouts over the storm, jerking him from his thoughts as his eyes follow the captain’s pointing hand.
Pink bobs on the surface, backed by bedraggled and soaked black fur as Legend hauls Twilight’s limp form through the water.
“Pup!”
He’s taking the lad from Legend as soon as they’re in reach, and Legend seems to sag in relief as the weight is removed from his shoulder. “Was with Wild. Bring him to-” The vet wheezes and ducks beneath the water for a moment, coming up with a pained expression on his face. “Bring to shore. I’ll get Wild.” He gives them no time to respond, tail flicking as he disappears beneath the waves again.
Time and Warriors exchange a glance and head back to shore, supporting the weight of the rancher between them.
Wind and Sky have managed to get a virtual bonfire going on the shore, and the sailor has laid what blankets and bed-rolls he’s found of their equipment in front of it, allowing their dampened things to ry as he and the other three heroes bundle together for warmth.
It’s with a cheer that they al; greet Time and Warriors as the two emerge from the ocean, and Time can’t help but smile a bit in relief at seeing them all safe again. Only a little longer and Legend will be back with Wild, and then he can rest easy knowing they’re all out of the storm.
Rain still patters against already soaked skin and cloth, but with the fire flickering before them Time can’t bring himself to care over much.
Hyrule’s fingers shiver as they slide over the wound in Twilight’s side, cleansing it from the poisonous water that has soaked into the bandages, and while Twilight grits his teeth and winces, he’s at least conscious enough to do so, and that alone brings some peace to the others.
Warriors informs the others of the whereabouts of their two missing brothers, and Time helps to settle Twilight on one of the warming bedrolls. It made still be wet, but it’s better than getting sand in the pup’s wound.
They wait in tense silence, bundled together to share heat as nervous gazes watch the shore. Wind hasn’t stopped muttering under his breath and Four isn’t doing much better with his half formed sentences and steady murmurs.
It’s only when Wild’s golden hair can be seen on the shore that they all release a breath of air.
Cornflower blue is wide and glazed, likely from shock, but it doesn’t stop the champion from reaching back into the waves to pull out his companion.
Legend is a mess.
The veteran gasps and splutters for breath once he’s free, skin a sickly shade of white and eyes just as glazes as Wild's own as the two clings to each other, and when the two stand together Legend is leaning heavily against the shaking champion, and it’s only through sheer luck that Time and Sky get there in time to catch them before the duo collapses back into the waves.
Wild curls against Time’s chest, fingers shaking and eyes blank as the man carries him back to the fire. Legend doesn’t even stir, lying limp in Sky’s hold as the Skyloftian bustles back to join the other heroes.
Nothing is said about the glistening tail that fades into legs once Legend is warmed and dried, and even if anyone had dared the stern gaze of the first of their number would have been enough to silence them.
Violet blinks hazy and distant beneath the warmed fabric of Sky’s sailcloth, but they are all safe. They are all safe and they are alive.
“Thanks to Legend.” Wild whispers when he comes back, head resting against Times collar bone. “Without him I would have never got Twi back to shore.”
“Three cheers for the vet.” Wars forces a smile, and while the cheers are heartfelt and thankful, they do nothing to lighten the mood.
Legend doesn’t even seem to hear them.
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