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certifiedskywalker · 3 years

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How to Make Small Talk in Five Simple Steps - Bucky Barnes

When people meet, they often use small talk as a means to negotiate and define the start of a new relationship. When you and Bucky meet, you both struggle to find the right words.

WARNING: talk of therapy, references to trauma and anxiety, and mild cursing

I. Show genuine interest.

“You’re new.”

“Excuse me?”

You shifted in your seat and eyed the man sitting across from you in the waiting room. His piercing cerulean eyes were squinted in your direction, right where he aimed his question. Despite the puppy-like confusion apparent in the way his head was cocked to the side, there was an edge to the mystery man. Perhaps it came from his clothes.

The jacket he wore was pitch black, a leather-like material that squeaked against the back of his chair when he moved. It looked brand new. Not to mention the matching gloves. His hands, joined together and resting on his abdomen, were covered in thick, dark fabric. There was not an inch of skin exposed, save for his face.

Though judging by the permanent scowl etched on his lips as he stared at you in wait for your reply, perhaps the man’s harsh edge ran deeper.

“The waiting room never has had more than like four people in it at a time,” you explained. “Until this week, until you, I waited by myself. So, you’re new.”

“Great powers of observation,” he quipped, though his tone lacked any lightness typical of teasing.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his gloved hands against the tops of his thighs. He looked towards the twin pair of doors that fed into Dr. Raynor’s and Dr. Briam’s respective offices. You smiled to yourself at the sight: a big man, an otherwise scary man was nervous for therapy. You could sympathize as, not too long ago, you had been in his place.

“Was it an intervention? A work note? An epiphany?”

At your questions, the man fixed his gaze on you again. “What?”

“What brought you to the services of Raynor and Briam?”

“Do you always ask this many questions?” While his voice was without a cutting coldness, his question wounded you. You overstepped your bounds. Time to wage a retreat.

“Sorry,” you murmured as you curled up and in your seat.

You looked away from the man in the hopes of distracting yourself from the searing shame. Quickly, your attention found the colorful pile of untouched magazines set out on a nearby side table. Despite your apology, you could still feel the sharpness of his eyes on you.

When you grew back the nerve and snuck a glance back at him, the man’s gaze was still fixed on you. Alarms rang in your ears as you turned to face him from across the waiting room once more. For a long moment, you just gawked at each other, waited for the other to speak.

Finally, the tension broke and, simultaneously, you both said, “sorry.”

A breathy laugh slipped past your lips, tilted and light. “Talking isn’t one of my strong suits.”

“Not mine either, not anymore,” the man sighed. However faint, there were slight, upward pullings at the corners of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but close. Close enough that you felt a hopeful realization bloom in your chest. How handsome he would look with a real smile.

You met his eyes and asked, “can...can we just start over?”

“Yeah, yeah we can.”

“Great,” you reached out your right hand towards him, across the vastness of the waiting room like an olive branch. “I’m Y/N.”

He glanced from your hand to your eyes and back again before he hesitantly extended his left. The tips of your fingers brushed and you saw the man’s body tense. After a moment passed, he joined your hands. His grip was strong and tight and, despite the glove, cold.

“Hi, Y/N.” Against your will, a fuller smile played on your lips, satisfied by how smooth your name sounded in his mouth. “I’m Bucky.”

II. Ask open-ended questions.

“How would you describe yourself?”

“What?”

“How would you describe yourself?” You echoed, a little louder than the first time.

“What do you mean?”

With a groan, you stood from your seat and strode over to where Bucky sat across from you. You settled in the seat beside him and held the magazine you were reading out to him. Empathetically, you pointed at the first question of the lifestyle quiz you found. Bucky squinted at the small typography and scoffed.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s a quiz in a magazine,” you pointed out, “it’s not supposed to make sense.”

“But am I a ‘curious cat stalking along a window sill’ or a ‘peaceful breeze blowing through a seashell windchime’? What...what does that even mean?” Bucky glanced from the page to you with furrowed brows.

“Which one speaks to you?”

“I don’t know. Is there a dejected crocodile or something?”

You laughed at his question, at the imagery of a saddened gator, and fought to catch your breath. When you finally were able to fill your lungs and meet Bucky’s gaze, you saw that he was serious. His blue eyes were fixed on you with a stillness that startled you. Curiosity struck you, just as it did the first day you saw him.

“A crocodile? Why a crocodile?” Your eyes flicked over Bucky’s face, trying to read his reaction to your query. He met your gaze before he pulled back and sighed.

“I saw some in Africa when I...I lived there. They seemed hostile.”

“You’re hostile?” You raised a brow at him as you asked. You made a mental note to ask him about his stint in Africa later.

Bucky met your eyes and replied, “when provoked. When I don’t have a choice.”

“Well that’s not dark or ominous,” you jeered. When he didn’t make a quip back at you, you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You’re here for anger issues then?”

A heavy sigh rolled through Bucky’s chest. He looked away, up towards the windows of the waiting room that were put far too high along the grey wall, too high to reach. Then, all at once, he was far away, lost in thoughts and feelings you were not privy to, despite longing to be. There was something about Bucky that was still a mystery to you and carried the same spark of newness that endeared you to him.

“There were times where I lost control,” he admitted as he looked back at you. “I’m trying to make amends.”

“Sounds like it was an intervention that brought you here.” You silently hoped that your teasing would lessen the sudden tension that grew between you.

“It wasn’t an intervention,” he replied, his eyes drifting back up towards the window.

You frowned at his distant expression. It hit you, in that moment, that Bucky was still a stranger. His truth, his truths, were still hidden to you. You wanted to ask him so many questions but you knew better than to venture too far. The first exchange you had with Bucky taught you that.

So, instead, you turned in the chair beside him and held out the magazine so you both could read through the next few quiz questions. You had to start somewhere.

“I’m putting you down as a ‘curious cat’,” you said, “you seem like a cat guy. Aloof.”

Following your statement, a hum of amusement reached your ears. You glanced at Bucky and saw that the softest of smiles rested on his lips. Pleased with yourself, you looked back to the magazine and read off the next question.

“Alright so, ‘Reach back to your inner-child and ask yourself: what do you want to be when you grow up’, Bucky?”

“Is ‘just okay’ an option? Or ‘happy’?”

III. Never get too personal.

“You’re late.”

“I had an errand,” Bucky replied as he fell into the seat beside you. His seat.

“An errand? What are you, fifty?”

“I wish.”

“What? You want to be older?” You eyed Bucky warily.

“Youn-” he met your gaze and saw the confusion in your face. “Nevermind.”

“You’re a strange one, Bucky...Bucky...what’s your last name?”

“Nunya,” he replied, without missing a beat; but you knew this joke. You raised a brow at him and released a long, unamused sigh through your nose.

“Nunya business?”

“Damn right.”

There was a bitter, closed-lip smile on Bucky’s face as he spoke. Despite the expression, his eyes did not linger long on you. At the angle you sat at, you thought you saw his slightly upturned mouth fall, too easily, into a frown. You assumed that it was because you ruined his extremely outdated joke.

Gently, you bumped your shoulder against his. “We gotta get you new material.”

“Or what? People will think I’m fifty?”

He met your gaze with a bored look on his face. In spite of your best efforts to reply with a quick, witty retort, you found yourself immersed in Bucky’s presence. His cerulean eyes never left yours and you felt your resolve begin to melt. Your eyes flicked across his face, to his scruff-covered jaw and soft pink lips. It took all of your strength to meet Bucky’s eyes again and form a somewhat full sentence.

“Not looking as good as you do.”

You meant to fire it back, make it sting despite your words being more of a compliment than an insult. But the words were soft, a murmur that contained too much of your heart, and betrayed your true thoughts. You felt that truth and quickly averted your gaze to the too-high windows. Bucky let out a pleased huff.

“Careful. That almost sounded like flattery, Y/N...Y/N...what’s your last name?”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, yeah, I get it. None of my business.”

A strained silence fell over the two of you. The dulled ticking of the waiting room clock soaked in the empty space that your voices once filled. Part of you feared that Bucky could hear the pounding of your heart. You were all too aware of the steady, thundering thumping in your chest.

In an attempt to muffle or overshadow the wild beating of your heart, you asked, “have you been given therapy homework yet?”

“Sort of,” Bucky replied, “kind of. It’s more self-assigned.”

“You’re an overachiever, then, huh?”

Your teasing, the distance your humor put you at, restored a level of comfort. In it, you felt confident enough to meet Bucky’s eyes. As you turned, your gaze trailed up his chest, skimmed along the cozy-looking material of his grey shirt. A striking glimpse of metal caught your attention, but Bucky’s voice coaxed your eyes to his.

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” he sighed, and he raised his hands. “I’m pretty average.”

“I doubt that,” you scoffed as you shook your head.

“Really?”

You turned your head to meet Bucky’s eyes and, again, you felt the thumping in your chest hasten. “Really.”

“Bold of you to assume. You don’t even know my last name.”

“Yet,” you pressed, “you’ll spill it to me one of these days. You may look good, but you also look like you need the therapy. We’ll be seeing each other often.”

A stunted laugh slipped out of Bucky’s mouth. He rarely laughed. If you could get half a smile out of him you were pleased. So, when a chuckle did slip, you savored the sound.

You let yourself watch him, how his head tilted back slightly when he looked up to the windows of the waiting room. It was then you saw the glint of a metal chain around his neck. You traced the shining material with your gaze until you saw the two dog tags that rested against his chest. The lapel of his jacket nearly obscured them, but you managed to read one in full.

James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Sargent. Camp Lehigh. DOB: 1917.

Based on the year, the date of birth, it had to be a relative, a grandfather, or an uncle, with the same name. As well as the same nickname? However strange it was, you knew Bucky’s last name: Barnes. Yet, you would wait for him to tell you himself. He would, one day.

IV. Practice active listening.

He was quiet, more so than usual.

When you walked into the waiting room, Bucky was already there, sat in his seat. When you greeted him, he didn’t respond. He only nodded and leaned heavily against the back of his chair. It didn’t take long for you to note the dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes and the more prominent lines of his face. The evidence of his lack of sleep was clear.

“You alright?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what Raynor is for. But I’m here if you change your mind,” and, added as an afterthought, “if you need me.”

Bucky didn’t say a word. His gaze remained fixed on the wall ahead, the black greyness that stood like stone across from you. Worry struck your chest with a sudden ache. It didn’t help that his silence stung. All-day you looked forward to seeing Bucky, but he was so far away.

Even when you looked at him, Bucky seemed small. Almost as if he were sat a few seats down rather than in the one right beside yours. You raked your eyes over his form, desperate for any sign that he was present, in the moment with you. As you drank him in, Bucky remained unmoved and as out of reach as the waiting room windows.

Aside from the exhaustion clear on his face, he held himself as he normally did. There was a slight slouch in his shoulders, that would disappear when he stood, and his arms rested against the supports the chair provided. Your eyes graced over his chest. Beneath his standard dark jacket, he wore a charcoal grey shirt and, if you looked long enough, you thought you saw his dog tags sticking out against the fabric. He kept them hidden, except for the last time you saw him.

Aside from his tired appearance, Bucky looked the same. Had it been just a rough night? Or did something happen? Outside of the waiting room, you knew little to nothing about Bucky. You considered Googling him, just to see what would pop up. Maybe he had an Instagram or a Facebook you could stalk; though the thought of seeing him with his arm slung over some old lover made your stomach churn. It was better to keep the Internet’s knowledge about Bucky Barnes a secret despite how desperately you wanted to know more.

The temptation to ask him, prod him to get some sort of answer, or answers, was strong. To combat it, you picked up a copy of Sports Illustrated. Not your first choice, but you needed to ease the itch of curiosity. Plus, the post-Blip world was a wild one, even for professional sports teams.

Feigning interest in the politics of football proved more difficult than you first imagined. Like the rest of the world, the realm of sports was floundering with its struggle to manage newly returned players and the teams they scraped together during their five-year absence. You began to wonder which half Bucky found himself with. Had he disappeared or had he remained? You still were unsure as to which was better.

It was part of why you used the therapy services Dr. Briam provided. Was that why Bucky met with Dr. Raynor? Just as your mind started to wander through every possibility, your quiet companion shifted in his seat. You looked over to him only to find his eyes were fixed on you.

“Nightmares,” he murmured. Your brows furrowed and you felt a frown form on your lips.

“Do you want to talk about them?”

Bucky hesitated and you saw the glimmer of a maybe in his eyes before he replied with another curt, “no.”

“Okay. I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the carpeted floor below his booted feet. You looked at the same spot but saw nothing. Slowly, you returned your gaze to Bucky, studied how his left arm rested near your right one. He was closer now, and you wanted to keep him that way.

Carefully, almost as if you were reaching out to a wounded animal, you extended your right hand. Your fingertips brushed against his left forearm and Bucky flinched. At his movement, you paused, looked to his face for permission. His eyes were stilled fixed on the floor and you could almost hear him slipping so far away again, crashing into the untamable waves his nightmares left in their wake.

To anchor him, you grabbed his hand. You didn’t squeeze, fearing it would be too much. You simply held his left hand in your right and silently marveled at how cool it felt beneath the material of his glove. A moment passed and Bucky didn’t react. You took a deep breath and resigned yourself back to the uninteresting issue of Sports Illustrated in your free hand.

A minute of silent reading went by when you felt his grip tighten around your hand. You didn’t dare to say a word. You only listened to the shuddering relief of his next breath.

V. Put your phone away.

“What was that?”

“My phone.”

“Really? I thought it was a lightbulb,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m aware it’s a phone.”

“How could I forget your great powers of observation.” Playing into your mild offense, Bucky feigned a frightfully embarrassed slap to his forehead.

“Funny,” you grumbled, “but it looked like you had a shit ton of missed calls.”

“Were you spying on me?”

You raised your hands in defense. “You pulled the phone out and the appallingly long list of uncleared notifications disgusted me.”

“I can’t figure out how to clear them.”

“You just swipe and then there’s a little ‘Clear’ button you press.” Bucky frowned and reached back into his jacket pocket. He pulled out his phone and held it out to you. Dumbfounded by this action, you glanced up from the dark screen and back to Bucky’s eyes. He gestured to the device and nodded.

“Can you show me?”

“Uh, I, yeah. Yeah, I can. Can you um-”

“Oh,” Bucky pulled his phone back to him and typed in the passcode to unlock it. When he handed it back to you, you were met with a horribly unorganized home screen and a messaging app icon with over a hundred missed texts. You glanced up from the phone and to Bucky, ready to teasingly chastise him for the state of his device.

But, when you moved to look him in the eyes, you nearly knocked your head against his. He was leaning over, close to your shoulder, prepared to study your message-clearing technique. Though, when your eyes fell to him, his attention was refocused on you. In that instant, a rush of warmth overwhelmed your senses.

He was so close you could smell the leather of his jacket and whatever generic brand soap he used in the shower. You could also feel his breath dance along the skin of your face and neck. It stirred goosebumps to life and sent a shiver down your spine. In an effort to suppress the tremble that threatened to overtake you, you turned your eyes back to his phone.

“So, all you need to do is drag down the top screen and,” you quickly walked him through the steps of clearing his message notifications. A lot were from someone named Sam, who asked how Bucky was, where he was, and if he was attending a memorial service or not. Before you saw too much, you handed Bucky his phone back.

“That’s it?” He mirrored your movements and old messages began to disappear off his screen.

“Yup,” you breathed, “just like that.”

“Alright, but then how do I add a new contact?”

“You really don’t know how to do that? How old are you?” You held out your hand and he wordlessly placed his phone back in your grasp. “You just click on ‘Contacts’ and hit ‘Add New Contact’ and put in their information.”

“You should put yours in.”

Another rush of heat washed over and through you as you looked up at Bucky. There was a startling seriousness in his face, lessened only by the hints of a smile on his lips. Your mouth opened but no words came out. At least, not at first.

“What?”

“Your number, you should give me your number. If you want.”

“Y-Yeah.” In a numbed, almost mechanical manner, you entered your contact information before you handed back his phone. “There I am.”

“There you are,” Bucky echoed softly. He barely met your eyes but he didn’t seem unnerved, at least not as shaken as you felt. He was perfectly and horribly unfazed by the implications of his words. Or maybe you were reading into it. So much of Bucky was still a mystery to you. He still hadn’t told you his last name!

But you knew of his nightmares. You didn’t know the names of the ghosts that haunted him, but you knew they existed and that they scared him. It didn’t scare you. You had your own skeletons, and you held in your heart some strange longing to know his.

As if hoping to sneak a glance at them, you gazed up at Bucky. His eyes found yours in an instant and you wondered if he was ready and willing to talk to you about his nightmares. Or maybe he was finally going to tell you his last name. Or just tell you something about him.

Just as his pink lips parted, the door to Dr. Raynor’s office opened with a click. The small, otherwise unnoticed sound, snapped the tension that budded between you and Bucky.

In turn, you and Bucky, looked over to find Dr. Raynor. She poked her head out from behind the door, just as she had many times before. Her dark-framed glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose as she eyed Bucky, sending him a silent, eerie greeting. She looked as frightening and hawk-like as ever.

“Ready for you,” she deadpanned.

Bucky nodded and stood from his chair. You watched him walk over towards Dr. Raynor’s door. It nearly broke your heart when he didn’t look back at you, though you weren’t quite sure why.

VI. Longing.

You wiped at your eyes as you strode out of Dr. Briam’s office. Knowing full well that Bucky wasn’t in the waiting room, as his sessions with Dr. Raynor started earlier than yours with Briam, you charged towards the door. The next two clients that sat in the plush chairs eyed you and the tears streaming down your cheeks as you passed by.

You were long past caring about what anyone else thought. Hell, you barely noticed their thrown gazes as you pushed open the door to the office building and stomped out into the daylight. Once you were stood on the top stair, you took a deep breath. You felt your lung swell and, as you held in the air for a few more seconds, you imagined your every anxiety being pushed out with your long exhale.

Dr. Briam’s technique helped as you felt your shoulders sink with a sudden, but not total, loss of tension. Tears still slipped down your cheeks as you made your way down the stairs. You wiped at them as you started your journey home. Home, yes, there you could curl up and disappear for a few hours. That was what you needed.

Everything and everyone else was too much. Well, nearly everyone else.

Still walking at a fast pace, you barely noticed the blur of dark clothes that stepped towards you. That was until you felt someone grab your upper arm. You nearly shrieked and prepared to make a scene when you looked up. A pair of cerulean blue eyes found your gaze and almost instantly eased your panic.

“Bucky! You scared the shit out of me!”

He let go of your arm and raised his hands. “Sorry.”

“Why are you lingering?” You asked, fixing your slightly disheveled clothes. Relatively satisfied with your handiwork, you focused back on Bucky. His eyes had never left your figure. “Bucky?”

“I...you seemed quiet today and I didn’t ask about it. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were alright but,” he reached out a brushed a tear from your cheek, “you’re not.”

“Is anyone really ever alright?” You forced a smile to your lips, an expression that Bucky mirrored sympathetically before he frowned. “I’m fine. You can go, you’re probably busy.”

You thought bitterly of the mystery person, Sam.

“At least let me walk you home.”

“Well, aren’t you the gentleman,” you joked, silently hoping that it would deter him. Yet, Bucky lingered and looked at you as seriously as ever. “Okay.”

Quickly, Bucky fell into step at your side as you maneuvered through writhing throngs of people on their way to and from. Every so often, your hand knocked against his gloved one and made your insides twist. The twisting turned to aching on the occasions where Bucky held your elbow and guided you around a particularly messy bunch of commuters.

“You walked this way for each session?”

“Each session,” you replied, looking up at Bucky. “Why?”

“Jus’ seems really busy.”

“It’s not always this bad. Plus, there’s a nice little park down over, oh! Right here.”

You stopped and gestured to a small fountain surrounded by benches. Manicured green knolls of grass and scattered, flowering trees surrounded the little park, which was empty compared to the streets. You glanced at Bucky and nudged his shoulder with yours.

“Sit with me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded and he let you guide him over to one of the benches. With a huff, you sat down and he followed suit. The wooden planks of the bench creaked under his added weight and, as if ushered by the sound, Bucky leaned closer to you.

You watched him as he took in your new surroundings. It looked as if he were surveying the area for any threats that could be hiding in the shadows. Perhaps that was why Bucky was such an enrapturing mystery to you: he always looked ready for a fight. Like his dejected crocodile, he was just waiting to be provoked. You were ready to do just that after weeks of tiptoeing around him.

“You never told me,” you said softly. Your voice coaxed Bucky’s eyes to yours.

“Told you what?”

“Why you came to Dr. Raynor.”

Bucky frowned and after a long pause he sighed. “A court order.”

“A court order? That’s…impressive? I don’t know the context, so, I can’t, and won’t, judge.”

Bucky let out a breathy, almost nervous-sounding chuckle as his gaze fell to the pavement. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I think if you did, you would judge.”

You furrowed your brows and waited for Bucky to look back at you. When he did, you felt your breath catch. In the sunlight, his eyes seemed brighter. Though, the heaviness of his knitted brow stole away their shine. He really believed you would judge him, after everything?

“Try me.”

“Y/N-”

“I want to know.” Bucky frowned but you pressed on. “I want to know you, Bucky.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re...interesting. Equally annoying and mysterious. It helps that you’re,” you sighed, “you’re good-looking too.”

A smile, the biggest you had ever seen Bucky put spread along his lips. His gaze fell to the sidewalk bashfully before he met your eyes once more. You thought back to the day you met and found yourself breaking out into a grin. He did look handsome when he really smiled.

“I’m nothing compared to you,” Bucky replied. “Talkin’ about both good-looking and annoying.”

“Then you know I won’t stop pestering you until you start to share,” you shifted towards him. “I want to know who you are, Bucky.”

His eyes flickered down from yours to your lips and back again. “What if I don’t really know myself?”

“Then start with what you do know.” You held out both of your hands towards him. Bucky glanced down at your open palms. When he met your gaze you saw a glint of fear that quickly melted into, what you could only describe as, relief.

Wordlessly, Bucky lifted his hands and began to peel off his gloves. First was his right. The sight of fingers made you strangely giddy. You had never seen the skin of his hands before. Then, he moved to his left and, finger by finger, he pulled the glove off. Sleek, shining, and metal, Bucky’s left hand was exposed.

You inhaled sharply at the sight but did not flinch away. Instead, you met Bucky’s eyes again and nodded. Carefully, he grabbed both of your hands in his. The contrast of his warm flesh and the cool, steel-like material sent a shock down your spine. You studied your joined hands before you looked back up at Bucky. A trembling breath rattled in his chest.

“I am James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes. I’m from Brooklyn and I used to be the Winter Soldier.”

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lemonhobgoblin · 3 years

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Softer than the Summer Night

Mothman X (gender neutral) Reader

Length: 2k

Genre: Slight NSFW & Fluff

___________________________________________________

"Stay don't move please," you wearily voiced into the dark.

When you spoke it worsened the strain you were feeling, your face contorted in discomfort. Even the thought of being moved was enough to get you squirming and whining. On your aching knees, hunched over, knuckles turning lighter in color, and eyes fixed ahead.

The sounds of the city outside your home were overshadowed by your ragged breath. All you could hear was breath and beating heart. You couldn't endure this any longer. You knew you couldn’t stay like this forever. You desperately wanted to move and finish what you started, and backing out now was far from being a feasible option.

"Fuck." Feeling a slight slip up on the other end. You physically couldn't take much more of this.

Your grip on the material you had bunched in your hands was loosening, and your reign on things was beginning to drastically falter.

"O fuck me" you breathed out frustrated, resting your head against a wooden frame. You could feel yourself getting tuckered out from this ordeal, feeling yourself becoming flushed with a light layer of sweat coating your skin. This was a good time as any now and fully let go. Knees and thighs sore from holding your still form, you began to move, releasing yourself of this hold.

"Ahhhh," you moaned out, watching in disbelief as the blanket slipped off the chair. Frustrated you threw yourself back onto the cool floor. You wasted your time doing that for nothing.

Heated at how the fabric refused to stay in place no matter how much you adjusted it. You flopped onto the hard floor to cool down. The cool ground felt refreshing on your steamy body. You didn't even want to look at it at the fort at the moment. Knowing you would just give up if you tried again immediately. You decided to rest your eyes and give yourself some time to collect yourself. Giving yourself some time before getting back to work on it.

Why wouldn’t it stay when you wanted it to stay.

Perhaps you should've just waited for your partner to bring you the supplies and figure out what to do from there. Of course, you being you, you got a little impatient eager.

It wasn’t a minute till you felt a presence hovering over you- watching.

Cracking open your eyes, you saw standing over you was a large humanoid moth-like creature looking down upon your disheveled form. Holding a batch of items in his arms, curiously staring at you. Tilting his head, confused as to why you were on the floor and.. sweaty?

"Hey, you grabbed the stuff I asked for?" You asked. Not wanting to get into the details as to why you were down on the ground defeated.

He nodded.

"Cool, well just give me a minute more. I'm almost done here. I still need to fix some things." Launching yourself back into a sitting position, getting back to work on keeping the blanket in place, only for it to slip off the wooden dining chair again.

Groaning over the fact that you were making a fool of yourself- especially in front of Mothman. He shouldn’t have to see in all your shame. Meantime, Mothman was just standing there completely unaware of what's going on still, but content to be part of it.

Internally wallowing to yourself, unsure whether you should continue or throw yourself into your half-done structure and call it a night.

Then it hit you.

Recalling that you asked for Mothman to bring duct tape. Looking back, scanning through the items within his arms. You successfully spotted the tape that was cradled within his right arm.

"Can you pass me that duct tape in your arms?" you pointed.

"No, not that"

"it's right there. That's not it."

Redirecting him and pointing out what you wanted, only to end up playing a guessing game. Sifting through each item, and saying no to everything he held out. How he was able to get the supplies you asked for? You'll never know.

After the first ten items, Mothman dropped all the material onto the floor with a thud. Thinking it would be easier to get what you wanted. Unsurprised, you stared at the pile straight lip. “No problem that is just as effective."

Crawling to the pile in the middle living room of your home, to grab the roll of tape.

What started as a calm night alone, became a little date night-with Mothman coming over uninvited. This wasn't uncommon he did this quite often, but you never turned him down always glad to welcome him in. That and also the fact you didn't want a seven-foot monster outside your window scratching at your window like a stray cat begging to be let in and draw attention to himself.

Bringing you up to speed now, putting together a fort. Clearly, rusty, it's been some time since you made a blanket fort. It wasn't your fault, you were always busy to do anything like this. Even if you did have the time, it just never occurred to you to do so after a long day of work. Usually, the closest thing to this, is you grabbing a throw blanket and pillow onto the floor with maybe some plushies and calling it a day.

But with Mothman in the picture, you had to get creative with things to do at home. Meaning you coming up with indoor activities and not go out in public at all. So no causal stroll by the park, or popping into a nice establishment and chat. As amusing it would be going out, you couldn’t do that for Mothman’s safety and especially those around. Leaving you both to see each other deep in the wilderness at night, in the abandoned TNT facility where the Cryptid resided and here in your home.

And you both managed to keep each other occupied- getting into ridiculous shenanigans. There wasn’t a day you were bored of one another’s company, even when you both had nothing to do. It was always a good time. And today was any different.

Tapping down the blanket against stile of the chair and now the moment of truth. Removing your hands and...

It didn’t move. It stayed.

“Finally!” throwing your arms up in triumph. Behind you, Mothman watched your mini victory pose. Unsure what you were doing with your arms in the air he mimicked your gesture.

“Alright, just a few more things.” Walking back to the heap on the ground, pushing and gathering all of it into the fort to do some final touch-ups. Leaving Mothman to awkwardly put his arms down as you disappeared inside.

Decorating and organizing the interior of the fort, striving to make it as pleasant and comfy as possible. Knowing that Mothman probably hasn't experienced this before. You wanted this to be perfect. Well as perfect as you could, given that you already used tape.

Amid you’re scrambling, a curious and impatient Mothman wanted a quick glimpse, to get a clue to what you were doing. He figured it was shelter, but why make another within your home.

As quiet as he could, he tried to lower himself onto all fours - to sneakily get a peek inside. Unfortunately, due to his large stature mixed with the old floorboard, you were alerted of him snooping by the sound of squeaky floorboards.

“Not yet." You said, popping, catching him off guard, in the act.

Surprised he just looked down, pretending he was looking at something interesting. Squinting your eyes, you went back inside.

Once you were back inside, he was back to his antics, and once more you heard his attempt. "Not yet" you reminded, poking out once more before going back in.

Of course, that didn't stop. He tried his hand again and you knew him too well, you were quick to scold him from inside without having to peer out.

Startled, his antennas and the fur on his body puffed out. How do you see him? Looking around to see if you were behind him or somewhere else in the room. Are you still in there? A valid reason for him to look inside now, he chirped eagerly. “Nice, try. I’m still in here and you can’t come in yet,” you announced.

Defeated, he deflated and resigned himself to sitting on the floor picking at the rug. Fortunately, he didn't have too long.

"Okay, you can come in" you called out.

You were content with the work you did both inside and out; well mostly inside. A couple of plush blankets laid on the ground with pillows lined against the walls of the interior and little something extra strung around. But there was still a good amount of space, that even Mothman could probably fit inside. Reaching for the electric lantern, to illuminate the area. You heard shuffling behind you- figuring it was the Cryptid making himself comfortable.

Lantern in hand you turned right around, the light flicking on, and was greeted with misjudgment.

Guess not you thought.

Seated smack dab in the middle, Mothman had unceremoniously become a support beam for the structure. His head pitching up the sinking portion of the blanket up. Clearly, this wasn’t large enough.

"I thought this would be big enough." You huffed to yourself.

You felt positive this was big enough, thinking to yourself - trying to see how you could fix this. Whereas Mothman just did his own thing and took matters into his own hands.

"Maybe if you-“You trailed off, watching him crawl further inside before rolling onto his back, laying his head against a pillow you set near the walls of the fort - stretching his legs across the entire interior and his feet simply hanging out from the entrance. “Or that. That's fine too."

Inching closer to him, you noted his pleasant demeanor, his chest rising steadily as he breathed in deeply, his fur ruffling up and flattening back as he exhaled. His limbs going completely slack, his muscles loosened. He was completely at ease.

“Comfy?” you teased.

He chirped in response.

"Well, I'm about to up the ante," you crawled over across his torso, reaching for a switch just near him.

"1,2,3" with a click, the interior light up with a soft warm golden glow of fairy lights strewn about all over. Though it may be cheap lighting, its beautifully sparkling bulbs filled the area with a warm, cozy atmosphere as well giving you a sense of awe just as it did for Mothman.

"Do you like it?" You asked.

Sitting up with wide eyes, Mothman gazed on with the utmost sense of wonder, transfixed on the lights and nothing else. As if he was in a world of his own. This wasn’t anything new, honestly, this was one of the first things you noticed when you first met him. And you’ve seen his habit time and time again. But you could never grow tired of it. It was quite adorable.

"I’m assuming so.” You chuckled.

Your laugh snaked its way into his enraptured mind, knocking him out of his trance. He stared at you, nearly forgetting you were there. As luminous and beautiful as the light was, there was something missing.

It didn't take long for you to catch Mothman's sudden change in behavior-still as statue and eyes locked on you.

"Mothman?"

Without giving you a chance to ask, he moved toward you, lifting you from your spot like some common house cat with ease; body slack and no resistance. He placed you right in his lap, before laying back with you laying on top of him-your back against his chest.

This was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. You shifted into a more comfortable position, Flipping over onto your stomach, propping your head up with one hand while the other lightly stroke at his chest- you peered down at him. "Better?"

Mothman sunk further in his spot, completely in bliss, and if that wasn't proof enough Mothman purred even louder in pure content. Now it was perfect. Wrapping his arms around you, hugging you closer to him-making you rest your head on him. You smiled, digging your head further into his plush chest.

He finally realized what you made, it was a nest for the both of you. Thats why you were so eager to make this. He couldn't wait to put this fort to good use. But seeing how hard you work on this, he could only guess how tired you were after put this together. So he'll let you rest.

The strong vibration from his purring perforated through your body. Whatever tension or stress you had melted away. It was enough to slowly lull into a nice slumber.

Well there go your movie plans in here. But that was okay because this was better.

Together you both laid there in silence. The beat of his heart keeping in rhythm with yours along with the ambiance of the city outside your home. The feeling of his chest rising and falling with you. Sheltered under a flimsy but cushiony fort. You eventually succumbing to sleep while Mothman stayed up to keep watch - enjoying whatever time he had left with you till heading out before dawn. Until the next night, when you could see each other again. So for now, you both held each other in each other's arms on this soft summer night.

............

A/N: Thanks for Reading!! <3

#mothman #cryptids #mothman x reader #Mothman x reader insert #Mothman imagine #Mothman fic #exophilia #monster #creature #monster romance #monster lover #tw monsterfucking #monster fucker #monster fic #monster x human #Mothman x human #tetraphilia

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all-about-seggs · 3 years

Text

Eyes on me -

Warnings- Shy! Gojo Satoru, just some headcanons and a bit my own theories about why he covers his eyes, no spoilers tho.

A/n: I'm SO SORRY for being inactive right after I opened requests and voting and even made a WIP list only to disappear on y'allಥ╭╮ಥ. I promise I'll get atleast the Geto fic I talked about before the Saturday.

Okay,

So I have a theory about why Gojo covers his eyes, besides from possible reasons that might include concealing or for better control over his powers.

If you take a look at his uncovered eyes you'd see how big they are! Clearly that's not unusual for guys but combined with the long heavy set of eyelashes and his pink tinted lips I have enough reasons to believe that he often got mistaken as a girl during his early childhood and eventually his 'pretty eyes ' (or face) became a sore point for him.

That's why everytime you catch him without his blindfold or shades he struggles to make eye contact. His azure orbs, almost out of reflex, turns their gaze away.

The people who can lie and act perfectly are often the ones who's eyes speak the truth. And I believe it's the same for Gojo. He knows this too.

Having you follow his line of sight, how he looks at you differently than all the other people in his life. How his eyes soften and relax into a languid manner that can be mistaken as drowsiness but to those who are actually looking, it's lovestruck nature is apparent.

Being an unreadable and unpredictable individual, it's already hard enough to make sense of his actions and reaching the depths of his mind is another task that seems insurmountable. But you're the one hes chosen to be with.

No jutsus to seperate him form his surroundings, face and emotions bare, he doesn't think twice when it comes to relaxing in your company.

Stare at him long enough and you might even catch the same pink tint sitting high on his cheek bones as well. Sure he's used to being stared at but it's a different things when he's at his most vulnerable.

Feigning confidence and donning his usual cocky smirk, Satoru will make it a point to droop his eyelids low, the two shining blue eyes getting veiled by a sheer white layer of lashes, him teasingly calling you a pervert in his smooth voice and the perfectly crafted bedroom eyes will probably make you forget about anything other than jumping on his clear invitation for seggsy times (🙏🏼 sorry for the terrible pun).

If you do comment on his beautiful face that puts all the girls you've ever seen to shame then he'll just laugh it up with his signature ' obviously'.

Don't get me wrong he doesn't have the typical case of fragile masculinity, he frickin wore his students skirt! But all jokes aside Satoru is a man. And he wants to be your MAN.

He can be babie and act like a brat but you are well aware of the duality of his so called terrible personality, so you know when not to take things too far.

The intensity his face hold when he's serious overshadows all its delicate features and whats left is the self proclaimed honoured one who expects obedience when he wants.

He doesn't mind being doted upon, not in private or in public. If anything Satoru will be especially clingy when he's around his friends or students or any familiar circle of people.

But boy is he bad with sincerity.

It's something his lacks heavily. Or at the very least, is terrible at expressing it. Everything he says and do seems natural to the point of casual and thoughtlessness.

So when you're sitting right in front of him, your eyes staring straight at his own bare ones and telling him all the things you love about him and with all their unconventional and reckless ways, you'll see him visibly twitching.

And from the inside? He would feel something melt, something that annoys him but reassures him at the same time. Knowing that there's someone who'll walk his side and stay with him to see to it that he makes his dream come true.

His unease will only stems from the irreplaceable value you hold in his life. He beats himself up for ending up with another weight to carry but even as his mental berating continues he finds himself smiling. So maybe, he thinks to himself, it isn't so bad afterall?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #jjk gojo #Jujutsu kaisen Gojo Satoru #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #my writing

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Text

A little drabble exchange for @theamazingbard that accidentally became more of a ficlet. Threw in a little hispanic nursery rhyme since I don’t know if we have them in english for making pain go away. I tried googling but it was unhelpful.

TW: Descriptions of blood, drinking it, gross stuff like that. Canon-typical wounds. References to drinking and inebriation.

WC: 2617

Lips Black as the Rose

Featuring highervampire!Jaskier as he tries to figure himself out after being turned. A bit of spice in there. Am I picking and choosing parts of the lore as I see fit? Yes. Is it very sexy of me to do so? One hundred percent. Will I beta this before posting? Oh absolutely not, you know the drill. ‘No beta, we die like men and get our shit wrecked in the comments’ is my go-to Ao3 tag for a reason.

Under no circumstances would Jaskier ever cause harm to another living thing, but the world did not reciprocate that exact philosophy. He’d been chased and held at the business end of many a sword, dagger, lance, and—on several unfortunately memorable occasions—a startling variety of available flatware. Things were rougher after meeting Geralt and having his usual human pursuers overshadowed by the threat of monsters.

Where once a spoon in the hands of a rabid duke would seem a most threatening opponent, Jaskier now found himself on the run from a more literal array of rabid beasts, and he could quote the running speeds the prove that having an extra pair of legs did indeed give certain monsters a leg up, so to speak, on the competition. But then, having no legs at all could prove a better advantage, and such creatures as those often had the additional advantage of long, venomous teeth.

Suffice to say, it was a difficult thing to be a lover in a world of fighters. Particularly when one falls into the company of another presumed lover, only to discover that their invitation to dinner was, in truth, an invitation to be dinner.

A vampire. Young, wine drunk, and foolish, Jaskier allowed himself to be led into the vampire’s den. It had been many years ago, he no longer remembered the details. He only remembered a sharp pain on his shoulder, followed by a woozy numbness, and he awoke in a strange bed, in an inn he did not check into, with his reflection missing from the mirror. He’d run away from home shortly after, fearing a bloodlust that was never to come.

It was a strange thing, being a vampire. After months of research, Jaskier came to no conclusions as to what it meant to be one exactly. He experimented with the content of old myths, touching silver very cautiously, taking delicate bites of foods prepared with garlic. He could cross a river just as well as any man. All in all, there was not much wrong with him, and he wondered what all the fuss was about. Well, there was a bit of fuss in that he could no longer be sure of his appearance, and he’d become more vain than ever, relying on the opinions of others to assure him that he looked presentable. This was a particular bother where Geralt was concerned, for he rarely paid compliments—if ever—and was not inclined to offer opinions concerning such trifling things as fashion or appearances.

Jaskier felt sure that Geralt would have noticed right away, but when their paths crossed again, Geralt seemed entirely ignorant of Jaskier’s dramatic change in biology. Running his tongue over his teeth, he could find no fangs. People complimented him on his eyes, still cooing over how bright and blue they were; and he’d been so afraid they’d turned a ghastly red as in the stories. From what he could tell, he appeared human. He had no violent urges to drain the blood from red-cheeked virgins, nor had he transformed into a bat and flown into the night. Sunlight only burned his skin as much as it had before, though it might have been harder on his eyes. He found himself squinting more in the afternoon, and it was unpleasant hot at times.

All in all, he was relatively normal.

“Such beauty ought to be preserved evermore.” That was what the vampire had told him that night. A great favor, immortality, but he wished he might have been offered a list of instructions to go with it. Figuring things out on his own was exasperating. And though he was not quite compelled to drink blood, there were times when he was … drawn. By curiosity.

When Geralt returned from a hunt, his flesh torn and body bleeding, Jaskier found it challenging to tend his wounds. Many times, he’d almost given into temptation. It did not help that he’d wanted to know the taste of Geralt’s skin long before the transformation. Now, there was an intoxicating layer to the fantasy, and the smell of Geralt’s blood made him hazy, like the bouquet of a strong wine. Or more realistically, the cloud of bitter vodka. If it had been a particularly nasty fight, Jaskier was sure he could taste Geralt’s blood by the smell alone, so powerful it made his nose wrinkle. He could get drunk on the fumes, and it was not always so pleasant.

He never dared try. There were too many things to consider. For a start, there was no telling what the blood of a witcher would do to him—and that was before factoring potions into the equation. Having never fed of blood, Jaskier did not know how his instincts would react, and he was sure he had some animal instinct to him now. He might drain Geralt dry in a matter of minutes, or the taste of blood might make him go insane and start tearing at his surroundings like a mad beast! Or, simplest and frightening of all, Geralt might kill him. So Jaskier kept his secret, never giving in to his curiosity.

But one day, he’d slipped.

“Fuck,” Geralt grunted. He clenched his hand and a sharp smell pervaded the air. In sharpening his sword, his hand had slipped. He’d cut the meat of his palm, just above his wrist.

Jaskier was up at once, Geralt’s bag in hand, ready to wrap the wound. He was very quick these days in getting things bundled up as soon as possible. Once the wounds were wrapped, the smell was not as pronounced. He fished out a strip of cloth and had it round Geralt’s hand in a matter of moments, working efficiently with good practice.

Geralt smiled ruefully. “A clean wound, at least. Should stitch itself up by morning.” He chuckled and inspected the wound, his eyes flicking over to Jaskier. “Haven’t done that since I was a child sharpening my first dagger,” he said.

“Did you cut yourself often in training?” Jaskier asked.

“No, not so often. We didn’t waste wrappings on such small scrapes either.”

There was a distracting shadow of red seeping through the cloth. Jaskier scoffed. “So you let it bleed into the open air, did you?”

“We were less inclined to coddle than humans.”

“Coddle?” Jaskier said, raising an offended hand to his chest. “My dear, a dressing is hardly evidence of coddling. If I wished to coddle you, I’d kiss it better and sing a little chant.”

Geralt presented his hand to Jaskier, smirking humorously. “Then do it. I’ve never heard of humans having such power as to kiss wounds better. Would save me a lot of trouble.”

“Erm … ” Jaskier flushed, considering the proffered wound. He nearly made a joke about lacking such power, being no longer human, but he bit it back. To cover his hesitation, he took Geralt’s hand and gently sang the rhyme his nurse used to calm him after a scraped elbow or knee. His tongue rolled musically as he rubbed the dressing carefully. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana.” Then he bent his head down to kiss the place.

“I don’t see what frogs’ tails have to do with my hand,” Geralt joked.

But Jaskier did not hear him. Instead, he felt oddly fixed in place, a metallic tang on the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth slightly, closed it, and licked at his bottom lip to chase the memory of the taste. As he did, his tongue scraped the end of a long, pointed tooth. He stumbled back unsteadily, muttered his excuses, and fled to the safety of his bedroll across camp. There he sat, writing nonsense in his notebook as though struck by sudden inspiration.

He’d tasted Geralt’s blood. And now he wanted more.

The next few hunts were blessedly without injury. Jaskier found he was able to breathe again. It twisted his gut whenever Geralt went off to fulfill a contract, and his conscience was at odds with this new obsession. He wanted Geralt to come back whole and unharmed. But he wanted some cut, some smallest scrape upon which to lathe his tongue. When he thought of it, he felt a stirring in his gums, and touching the place, he found the fangs had grown in again. It took concentration to hide them again. He took to smiling with his mouth closed after the first incident, and he developed a habit of biting his lips.

When they came to a larger town, Jaskier went straight to the butcher. To quell his growing need, he bought fresh meat, sneaking a sip from the blood dish beneath the draining sheep’s carcass while the butcher’s back was turned. It had the strangest effect on him. Within minutes of leaving the butcher’s shop, he felt light-headed. He felt drunk, in short, and he wobbled his way to the inn, a giggle in his throat.

For dinner, he asked the potmaid to send the loin to the cook and surprised Geralt with it: a small treat to celebrate his recent hunting success. In truth, he wanted nothing to do with it, festering in the shame of his lie. The loin had merely been an excuse: something to keep the butcher busy while he drank his curiosity like some writhing leech dredged up from the water.

It made him drunk. He made note of it in his book and swore that would be the end of things. This odd affair made it easy to forget, his stomach turning in guilt and disgust at the thought of repeating the act. He was fine and healthy without blood, therefore there was no need to partake. He could go the rest of his life perfectly happy never drinking another drop. Until the day it fell from Geralt’s lip.

Jaskier stared at it from across the room. Geralt had just returned from a fight, his eyes and blood black with potion. His armour was scratched up, covered in foulness from monsters unknown, but he was alive and whole, hardly bruised. Jaskier tried to focus on the smell of the guts dripping from his armour. It was still as disgusting as ever, even with vampiric senses to influence his opinion. The wretched blood was still unappetizing. But above it, he smelled a strange scent: sweet, a touch of iron. And there, shining on Geralt’s lip, the wet glisten of blood.

He swallowed hard as Geralt wiped the cut on the back of his hand. The blood smudged along his chin, all the more enticing. His knuckles turned white on the sheet of his bed as he held himself in place. Ordinarily, he would be up on his feet to help coax Geralt out of his armour by now, but he did not trust himself to be so close.

Geralt shed his shoulder pads, looking at Jaskier from the corner of his eye. “It’s a bit slippery,” he said. He inclined his head, beckoning Jaskier over. That was their way. They did not ask things from one another. It was simple routine, and the brief lapse was something awkward to acknowledge.

What excuses could he provide? Jaskier stood on trembling legs and made his way, biting his own lip to hide the fangs he felt beginning to grow. His fingers were clumsy as he fumbled with the clasps, far too close to Geralt’s face. His breath caught, watching a bead of dark blood roll down his lip, over his chin. His lip was stained black.

Geralt had always had nice lips, Jaskier felt. He was always reminded torturously of this fact when he helped Geralt out of his armour. How could one undress such a man without indulging in the fantasy of what came after, even a little? But oh, it was a dangerous line of thought. Now he was bewitched by his senses, his focus single-mindedly drawn to that point on Geralt’s lip. To kiss him now, to lick the blood from his lip—it would be divine. He felt his heart beat faster at the prospect, his hands stalling to unbuckle Geralt’s breastplate as he stared. Just one taste. One kiss was all he wanted.

A hand pressed against his chest, stopping him short. Jaskier startled out of his unconscious reverie and looked at Geralt in horror. He hadn’t—! Had he? His attention flicked between Geralt’s eyes and his lip, and to his relief, the blood remained untouched.

“Not just now,” Geralt said, voice rumbling in his chest. “The potions might paralyze you—at least for a day. Anything lesser would die from a drink of it. It turns my blood to poison.”

Jaskier blinked, edging back. “I … don’t understand your meaning,” he feigned.

Geralt followed him, stepping forward. He raised a hand, caressing Jaskier’s cheek gently. “I know,” he said. “You’re not the best at keeping secrets. I noticed some time ago you stopped aging, and there’s no shadow at your feet, even on the brightest afternoon.”

He swiped his thumb over Jaskier’s bottom lip. Jaskier gasped, his lips parting, and Geralt pushed in. Then, his thumb was pushing Jaskier’s top lip away, revealing a glistening fang. He nodded, satisfied, and stepped back once more.

“You’re a vampire,” Geralt said. “And not a common one either. My medallion doesn’t react to you at all.” He chuckled and added, “As if you could be common by any measure.”

Jaskier turned away, picking up one of Geralt’s shoulder pads. He clutched it to his chest, whether for protection or for comfort he could not say. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was afraid to tell you … afraid what you might say. What you … might do.”

A warm hand smoothed down his arm comfortingly. There was a teasing quality to Geralt’s voice when he spoke. A hand wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, making him nearly jump in surprise.

“In regards to what: the knowledge that you’re a vampire, or the knowledge that you want to kiss me?” Geralt asked, words hot against Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier shivered, the adrenaline of his fear quickly turning to something sweeter. “Both,” he sighed. He closed his eyes, trying to focus, to understand Geralt’s intent.

“You cannot drink of me tonight,” Geralt whispered, “but I can satisfy that other hunger, if you only have the discipline to keep your teeth to yourself.”

“What are you saying, Geralt?” The way Geralt’s hand slipped lower and lower down his front, Jaskier thought he knew. Even so …

Geralt chuckled, nose pressing to the back of Jaskier’s neck. “I’m saying I’m tired of the way you look at me like a man starving and refuse to do something about it. It’s gotten worse. It was bad enough before, waiting for you to make your move, but since your turning, it’s insufferable. I feel like the centerpiece of a banquet, waiting to be devoured.”

“You said I couldn’t kiss you,” Jaskier said, breath coming up short as he felt himself pressed back against a firm chest, a second hand coming up to tug at the edge of his chemise. “I have no discipline whatsoever. And you know that.”

“Well then.”

Jaskier dropped the plate of armour as he was pushed backward. He fell, his knees caught by the edge of the bed. Arms caged him on either side, and above him. Geralt smiled, a drop of blood falling onto the sheets below. He pressed his thumb to Jaskier’s mouth once more, something ravenous in his eyes.

“Well then,” he repeated. “Looks like I’ll have to devour you instead.”

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #vampire!jaskier #highervampire!jaskier #showing off a bit of my culture there with the little rhyme #mexican / irish blended household baby!#sadly though I learned the rhyme from spanish classes instead of from my family lmao #such is life #lips black as the rose fic #persie's tag #I TOLD you I'd leave things unfulfilled #suffer

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theymetinargentina · 3 years

Text

Sunflower / Harry Styles AU

Authors Note: Hello! This is an AU I thought of when I took a flight this past winter. I really hope y’all enjoy. As always comments and requests are always appreciated, they really help with motivation:) Feel free to interact in any way<3

Warnings- SMUT, daddy kink, choking, spanking (all that jazz)

Word Count- 2.8k

Enjoy<3

READ MY OTHER WORK HERE!

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“Alright passengers, I’m your flight attendant for today’s flight, my name is Jane and upfront our pilots are Harry and John, they’ll be making sure we arrive safely to our planned desination.” you smiled into the speaker, “We want to thank you for flying with us and hope you enjoy your flight, any concerns or questions feel free to flag me down and I will ensure all your needs are meet.” You spoke all this is your typical stewardess voice, a voice that took months to perfect and has slowly crept into your daily speaking habits.

Today’s flight was a short one, only about an hour and a half. While you normally preferred longer flights, as it meant you got to travel farther, today you were grateful for the time it meant you would get to spend with your boyfriend, the man who was in charge of making sure this plane arrived safely at its destination. You and Harry had been together for nearly four years, working together since the very beginning of your relationship, when it was barely that. Of course, you never intended to start a romance with one of your pilots, it sort of happened.

After you relaized you both would have to work together, panic settled in. Of course you really liked him, you spent nearly everyday with him since that first night. He couldn’t be further form bothered, only uttering, “Who cares….maybe we should tell them so they can see I got the one everyone drools over.” I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I would be shamed for sleeping with one of the pilots, rumors would ensue over how you got such a sought after job.

However, one panic attack and a trip to HR later, everything felt at ease. Your job literally could not care less; and being with Harry, relaxed you. Who cares if people gossiped? It was no ones business. They could stare and talk all they wanted. They wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you upset by it.

Pushing through your anxiety was worth it, for Harry anything really was.

********** 4 years earlier **********

“I’ll get another drink please.”

“On it,” the very patient bartender responded, you had been moping around the bar for nearly two hours. You came here often enough to know which bartenders were working what shift. This is why you choose to come at this specific time. Noah, a slightly older man, was your favorite. He never tried to pry things out of you. Just let you sit at the bar with a solemn look on your face. Occasionally listening when you felt you needed to rant. A presence next to you snapped you out of your daze. The bar was fairly empty but the slightly musky air was still floating over our heads.

“Can you make that two, please? Go ahead and put it on m’ tab.” I slowly turned ready to dismiss whoever was interrupting my form of self-care. It was the same tall, lean man who had been shooting glances my way all night. Getting fairly close to me when he came to retrieve drinks for his group. “I’m Harry, and you are….?” he said cheekily

“Jane,” I deadpanned, “That is very kind but I am more than cap-” I stopped when I fully looked at him and saw how beautiful he was. His eyes were a blend of forest greens, almost overshadowed by how dilated his pupils were. His pink, full lips were pulled into a smirk, noticing I was staring.

“Baby, ‘m sure you’re more than capable,” he slyly said with a grin, Who was this man? And to have the nerve to tease me after only just meeting.

“Look, I was just sitting here enjoying a drink and I really don’t need anyone to pay for it.”

“I’m just tryna warm you up, take it...please?”

“Warm me up for what? You seem so sure of yourself, when all youve done is give me your name and pay for a drink.” I retorted.

He grinned again and moved closer, “I see that look in your eye, I know you want this darlin’,” he slowly inched his hand up my arm, pausing when he got to my collarbone, waiting for me to say no. He carefully encased his hand around my neck, looking into my eyes to silently ask if this was okay, all I could answer with was a nod. He put his mouth to my ear and hotly whispered, “Come home with me.” The ache between my thighs only got more intense. “Your friends wouldn’t like that,” I whispered lowly.

“Fuck them,” he responded, his voice had significantly dropped and he sounded so sure. For some reason, I trusted him and felt myself slowly falling into his arms, both figuratively and metaphorically. I wrapped my significantly smaller hand around his wrist that was still holding my neck, “Take me then.” I whispered.

Our drinks long forgotten, he dragged me through the exit. When we stopped in front of a very expensive car I was surprised to think he would drive. “Wait,” I gasped, “you can’t drive, you were drinking.” I couldn’t hide the slight disappointment in my tone. He only chuckled, “I was the designated driver for tonight, had bloody virgin drinks all night.” He smiled. With that, we got into the car. Judging by his determined driving I assumed we would end up at his place. After a car ride filled with only the sound of our heavy breaths and quiet music, the air thick with tension, he parked. The house was fairly large for what I would assume was only one-man occupying it. Nonetheless, I followed him to the front door where he stopped and turned to me.

“I know I was pretty straight forward back there, but I’ll completely understand if you decide to change your mind.” Those words got me wetter than I already had been. I understood what he was saying though, and felt gratitude at his attempt to make me comfortable. However, I couldn’t help but let my eyes flicker down to the bulge in his trousers. I stepped up to him and rested my hands just below his belly button, “I want this,” I seductively whispered, “Tell me you want me.” He let out an animalistic growl and wove his hands around my backside, resting them on my hips.

“I want you so, so bad baby. ‘M about to come in my fuckin’ trousers. Got me so hard, you minx.” With that settled I pushed him towards the door hoping hed get the hint to open it and lead us inside.

Once inside the already thick tension erupted inside us. He pushed me up against the closed door and crashed his lips on mine. It was rough and hot as he poked his tongue at my sealed lips, I let him in, and our mouths explored each other. He groaned and motioned with his hands on my ass to jump. I happily leaped into his arms and continued our heated kissing. I felt him slowly begin walking upstairs, careful not to drop me. We broke apart to breathe, but I immediately began trail kisses along his jaw. When I reached a particularly sensitive point below his jaw, he moaned. Setting me gently on the floor he lifted the end of my dress, pulling it off me in one swift motion. His eyes widened at the sight beneath it.

“Completely bare, you filthy fuckin’ whore,” He said as he cupped my heat, smirking at the whimper I let out.

“Oh yeah? I bet you fuckin’ love it.” I replied breathlessly.

“I fuckin’ do. Daddy loves filthy whores .” His eyes had gotten darker and his voice had a dominating edge to it. I knew he wouldn’t go easy on me. And I was thankful. I decided if he wanted to be rough, so could I. He threw his head back and groaned when I dropped to my knees in front of him, “You look so damn beautiful on your knees.” He gripped my chin, dragging his thumb across my cheek and pulling my bottom lip down.

I whimpered at the throbbing between my legs, hoping to get some type of relief. His bulge had only gotten larger. I held lightly onto his thighs and gave rough kisses to his covered length.

He was stubbornly refusing to moan, I could hear his breath increase in an attempt to mask them. When I pulled both his trousers and boxers down; his thick, veiny length sprung up. The tip was bright red and leaked pre-cum.

I admittedly enveloped him in my mouth, his knees almost buckling at the sudden touch.

“Fuck baby…..shit, right there…...suck daddy’s cock.” He grasped my hair harshly, guiding my movements as I bobbed up and down his cock. When I hallowed my cheeks he gave an involuntary buck, his tip hitting the back of my throat causing me to gag. I pulled away quickly, gasping for breath with a line of spit connecting his swollen tip to my lips. I chuckled and continued to move my hand up and down, flicking my wrist slightly when I reached the head.

“You like that daddy,” I smiled at him. He finally gave me another beautiful moan that sent waves of pleasure to my throbbing core. “Mmmm,” was all he managed to respond before pulling me up to kiss me sternly.

“As much as I love that sweet mouth of yours, I wanna come inside you.”

He pushed me backward until my knees hit the bed. He climbed on top of me letting his hands roam toward my throbbing pussy, “please,” I whimpered; surprising me too. He chuckled sliding his hand over my slit. “Oh, fuck.” Gathering my wetness on the tip of his finger he slowly pushed one in.

I threw my head back and let out a moan. “All this for me, huh? Tell me who got you this wet?”

I could feel him threatening to pull his finger out, “Tell me who, and I’ll fuck you with my cock, the one you sucked so well.” He crashed his lips back on mine while hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You want that? To have me fuck that tight cunt so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Please…...daddy.” My whimper nearly killed him, the slow drawl out of me calling him daddy, I could tell he was trying to tame himself for my sake. But I wanted him to completely ruin me.

“Don’t be patient, ruin me…..please?” I juted out my bottom lip, partly to be cute and because I knew he would imagine me when I was on my knees for him.

I pulled at his belt buckle, he ripped my hands away and stood up. At first I thought he had changed his mind or something was wrong but he had a devilish grin on his face and lowly spoke in his sex-hazed raspy voice, “Get on your hands and knees.”

For some reason I responded to his voice immediately, rolling over so I was propped up by my hands, spreading my legs, hissing at the cool air hitting my slick core. My ass was facing toward him so I could only hear him remove his belt and step out of his trousers.

I jumped slightly when I felt him run the cool leather over my ass, “Look at you, spreading your ass for a stranger….. Such a fucking whore.”

I whimpered slightly and pushed my hips back slightly, hoping he would understand what I wanted. “You want me to spank you?” he snickered, “you keep surprising me Jane.”

Hearing him say my name drew a moan out of me, only nodding in retort to his question.

The slight sting that came was minimal in comparison to th pleasure I felt at his belt hitting my ass roughly. He brought it down again, and again, and again; each time making me moan louder than the last time.

When he dropped the belt I sighed in relief, I would finally get some relief from the ache that was ever increasing between my legs.

“Are you on the pill or should I-?”

I cut him off, “I’m on the pill, you can go bare.” I didn’t want the barrier of plastic between us, I wanted to feel every vein and ridge I had felt in my mouth.

With my confirmation he pushed in harshly, both of us moaning in unison, “Oh fuck…” I breathed. He set a rough pace, gripping onto my hips and pounding into me from behind.

“Shit…..you’re tighter than I thought baby, “ he groaned. The air was filled with sex and sweat. The only sound being our repeated mantras, oh fuck, right there, or don’t stop, and the borderline pornographic noise of skin slapping together. Harry reached his hand in front of me began rubbing fast circles on my clit. I cried out and knew from the sudden stimulation I was gonna cum sooner than I though, “I...I’m gonna cum, Harry.” I managed to get out.

“Cum for me baby, show me what a good girl you are for daddy, how much you love his cock.” With that I clench around his length that was buried to the hilt in me, all but collapsing from the overwhelming pleasure. I could feel Harry twitch inside of me and felt thick ropes of his cum coat my walls. He pushed himself balls deep, swirling his hips while riding out his oragasm. “Ohhhh, fuck baby….” he groaned.

I gathered enough strength to put my hand underneath us and tug on his balls lightly. He jolted and growled in my ear.

“You felt so good in me,” I whispered, in between our heavy breathing.

He laughed and pulled out, hissing lightly at the lack of warmth around his cock.

“It was all you darlin’.” I unvoluntarily clenched my thighs at the pet name. We both laid on our backs and stared at the wall.

“You can spend the night if you’d like,” he looked over at me with a glint in his eyes. I couldn’t say no, even if I normally refused to even spend longer than 5 minutes after with a hook-up.

“Sure,” I smiled.

********* Present Day **********

“Once the seatbelt light has turned off, you can go ahead and gather your things, exiting the aircraft in a effective manner, on behalf of all of staff we would once again like to thank you for flying with us today and hope you had a lovely flight.”

Once everyone was off the plane I unlocked the cabin door and struted inside, silently punching myself for choosing to wear heals. I mean, they made my legs look great and not to mention how fucking good my ass looked in this skirt, I knew Harry was itching to take it all off me.

“How was your morning Jane?” John asked sweetly. John was one of our newer pilots,doing his first few years under the care of Harry, a man with years behind his belt. He was a sweetheart, always kind-too kind if you asked Harry- and he respected everyone he worked with, no matter their own job.

“Not too bad, fairly calm flight. How were yours?” I asked them both.

“Good, John was in the lead for most of it. Fast learner this one.” Harry grinned, knowing how embarrassed John was with compliments. Sure enough when I looked at him, his cheeks were flushed pink.

“That’s very kind, but it’s all your teaching,” He replied, “I’m off, gotta go get some rest. I hope you both have a wonderful day.” He shook Harry’s hand and gave me peck on the cheek.

My eyes followed him out the door and I turned to Harry once he was out of sight, met with an unimpressed look.

“Oh relax, he always gives me a kiss on the cheek.” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he stood and started gathering his belongings, “he tries anything else and I’m not holding back.” Of course John would never try anything, for one he was married, and he respected both Harry and I too much to ever do anything like that. It was simply a joke, stemming from the fact that a pilot that flew with Harry had commented about me, not being aware I was tied to Harry.

“I’m yours, you know that,” I grabbed onto the front of his suit and peered into his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re all mine, too look at, kiss, and grab,” he smirked, cupping my ass harshly at. I squealed and tried to push him away.

“People will see,” I laughed lightly, freeing myself of his grasp.

“Let them, they’ll finally understand not to talk about you,” he breathed, “Especially when they see me and think, ‘that bloke will fuckin’ kill me for disresectin’ his girl’” he beamed at me, clearly proud with the scenario he made in his head.

“You are such a dork.” We both grabbed our bags and began walking out the plane and into the airport.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he smiled with that goofy grin that always makes me laugh. I merely shook my head in response and thought, yeah I really did.

*****************************************

LMK WHAT YOU THINK!!! :)

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oneofyatosfollowers · 3 years

Text

Yatori Week 2021- Day 5

@yatoriweek2021

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32090953/chapters/79500055

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905660/1/Yatori-Week-2021

“Oh my goodness, Hiyori! A fifth date!” Kofuku squealed, “you never even agree to a second date!”

Perched on her rolling chair, the pink-haired nurse spun so fast her curls flung out like a halo and her pink capybara scrubs were a blur. Across from her, Hiyori dropped her pen and lurched to stop the girl from falling over. Kofuku was such a spaz it was any wonder Hiyori’s father hired her. But she was truly a ray of sunshine and giggled as she was righted.

“I sometimes agree to second dates. It’s more that they don’t call me back,” Hiyori muttered around her smile. Embarrassed, Hiyori spun around and tried to focus on patients’ lab samples but that didn’t deter her friend. Kofuku’s arms curled around Hiyori’s plum scrubs and she rested her chin on Hiyori’s shoulder.

“See? I told you, you two would hit it off,” Kofuku purred.

“You make it sound like you introduced us,” Hiyori said with a playful roll of her eyes. The man in question was one who often landed in Hiyori’s family’s hospital and was a childhood friend of Kofuku’s. He often had problems such as tears in a rotator cuff or labrum and brusings, things he claimed were from his job. Nothing particularly major but still frequent enough where Hiyori had gotten to know him fairly well. It didn’t help that he would try to stay longer than needed just to talk to her- even bust in the nurse's office with the excuse of looking for Kofuku- or specifically request her. It annoyed her at first; sometimes she was really busy with demanding families or tired from an all-nighter. But she couldn’t stay mad at him for too long, he would always be so excited to see her and happy to hear about what she had to say. It was easy to talk to him and sometimes Hiyori had found herself picking up the pace to his room only to sit beside him and talk about everything and anything.

“Well I basically did! I invited you both to hang out at my place with Daikoku and I! I even told you when and where he gets his coffee so you can talk outside of work! That’s where he asked you out isn’t it?” Kofuku continued to grin in Hiyori’s ear, causing them both to giggle.

“For your information I went to that coffee shop before I met him!” Hiyori shooed her friend off with a smile. Kofuku fell back into her chair with a sigh but fixed Hiyori with a soft look.

“I’m glad you like him. Yatty can be a little quirky but he’s genuine. I know you like that.”

“I do,” Hiyori admitted, “but you’re right he is odd.” The word odd didn’t quite cover it. Yato, Yatty as Kofuku called him, had some personality quirks for sure. It took a lot to outwardly flirt with a nurse while she tried to pop your shoulder back in it’s socket and blush when she laughed around you. Beyond that, he had some peculiar habits that Hiyori found it difficult to ignore.

For one thing Yato was fairly jumpy around people approaching him, like he didn’t want to look directly into people’s eyes yet would get extremely excited when someone did. What’s more, sometimes he would pull her away, like he saw someone he was trying to avoid. Not that she thought anyone would recognize him. It didn’t matter where he went, Yato would always be covered: thick jackets, sun glasses, hats, the works. He even showed up to their second date with a hospital mask on. Hiyori almost walked out then and there but Yato begged her to stay.

“Maybe he’s famous,” Kofuku once suggested. That was always an option, with the way he often wore an up-turned collar, but Hiyori did an hour of google search to prove that wrong. He was lucky she had gone most of her life without finding someone who made her laugh so much, otherwise Hiyori wouldn’t have agreed to that second date.

As the saying goes, just talking about someone was enough to summon them. Her phone chimed on her desk and Hiyori didn’t even have to turn it over to know it was him. That was another one of his quirks, frequent texting and social media, but Hiyori didn’t mind. Only because she liked talking to him and he didn’t get upset with her when she ignored her. They had another date tonight, Yato would be meeting her at a bar, per her request. She typed out her reply, reiterating for the third time that he was not to come in any ostentatious clothing.

“Well, I’m glad you two have fun anyway!” Kofuku chirped from her seat, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Hiyori laughed at her words. Meanwhile, after Hiyori spent an hour picking out clothes, making sure her makeup was just right, and waiting patiently for Yato to arrive ten minutes late, she took one look at him and walked away.

“Wait, wait, wait, Hiyori!” Yato jogged after her and grabbed her hand. Teeth bared, Hiyori whirled around and fixed her most searing glare on him. She watched him physically recoil, blue eyes wide with shock. At least she imagined they were, large tinted sunglasses blocked any view of them so Hiyori wasn’t sure. Either way, her glare reflected back at her and she watched herself scowl at him.

“Let go of me,” Hiyori growled. He let her go when she yanked but easily kept up as she marched away from their meeting spot. They swerved though the crowd of happy families and loving couples, the groups jolting out of the way of her warpath.

“Hiyori, please, I’m sorry! It’s just to get here! That’s why I wanted to get here early so I could change!” Yato continued to plead as he walked alongside her. She stopped and skeward him with another glare, this one capable of pinning him to the building behind him.

“You’re ten minutes late.” She informed him.

“Ahh. Hah, uh,” Yato’s jaw worked uselessly for a moment before he swallowed thickly and looked to the ground in shame. Hiyori watched him for a moment then walked off again, Yato catching up to her after some time.

“Hiyori, please!” Yato appeared suddenly in front of her, hands up to get her to stop, or in surrender. Despite herself, she did stop, allowing her glare to slip and show him the hurt she felt. Now, Yato wasn’t the sharpest tool in the doctor kit but he had the sense to take off his baseball cap, letting his black hair fall free, and his glasses to look her in the eye with nothing but concern. They stared at each other as music and people happily surrounded them.

“Hiyori I,” Yato paused as pink spread across his cheeks, “I really like you. I’m sorry it’s just a habit from my job. Please, don’t go.” He spoke so honestly that Hiyori couldn’t stop her shoulders from sagging. Of course the genuineness of the statement was overshadowed by the fact Yato was undressing as they spoke. Hiyori watched him stuff the glasses and hat in his jacket pocket before stripping off the jacket and tossing it in a bush. Once he tore off his pants, thankfully leaving behind shorts, Hiyori was left to sigh at the dirty baseball jersey and bruised arms. Yato watched as she gently picked up his arm to poke at his swollen elbow.

“I like you too,” she started, “but you promised. Several times. I asked you and you said you wouldn’t walk around like this and suddenly drag me around.” Hiyori reminded him. Of course he hadn’t done it yet but it was almost guaranteed at this point.

“I know, I’m sorry. There’s just so many people here and it’s for my job, I swear,” Yato repeated.

“And what exactly is your job?” Hiyori let her eyes flicker up to him. That was treading on dangerous territory. Yato- as another personality quirk- did not like talking about his job. He answered her questions but the responses were always vague and he was quick to change the subject. Even if she didn’t say something, she noticed; yet it was her fault for trusting him when he assured her it wasn’t anything sketchy or illegal. With the way Yato struggled to look at her, and come up with an excuse, it was clear she wasn’t going to get an answer this time either. That was fine. Afterall, Hiyori was hiding things from Yato too.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me right now. I don’t want to get into it.” Hiyori said. His elbow thankfully wasn’t sprained but it was definitely irritated. He would need to ice it and rest, not have fun at a festival. She let it go and held onto her purse handle.

“I think I’m going to go though,” Hiyori mumbled.

“No, no, no!” Yato’s hands waved, “Hiyori, please, I am so sorry. Let me buy you food? Or just chat? This doesn’t even have to be a date or longer than an hour. I just really want to spend time with you.” He bit his lip and scanned her face as she thought it over. There was really no harm. He didn’t do anything particularly wrong and she had no doubt they would have fun. It wasn’t like she actually wanted to go home anyway.

“Well, you’re going to be spending more time with me if you don’t rest that elbow,” Hiyori huffed. The sentiment confused Yato but he huffed out a laugh, not making a move as he stared at her. With another sigh, and a prayer to heaven, Hiyori gently let her hand rest in the crook of his good arm. Yato’s other hand quickly came up to support his arm, the pressure causing him to flinch through his excited cheers.

“Oh and!” Yato suddenly left her side to dive into the bush. Before Hiyori could contemplate her decision, Yato opened his hands like a toddler showing their parents something new they’ve found.

“I won it for you at the ball-toss,” Yato admitted with great pride, “that’s why I was late.” His smile was awkward as he looked between her and the plastic cat keychain, still holding it out to her. At this point, how could she still be mad? With a snort and a giggle, Hiyori attached the keychain to her purse, took Yato’s arm, and knew she would stay much more than an hour.

“Hey, Hiyori?” A nurse popped her head in the office a month later, “That, uh, patient is here for you?” The office was filled with snickering, mostly from Kofuku, as Hiyori leaned back in her chair. She knew why he was here, but Hiyori couldn’t decide if she wanted to deal with him right now.

“Thank you, I’ll be right there,” she pushed back from her desk. In the doorway, the nurse cleared her throat.

“Actually, he’s here, here,” she pointed off to the side just as Yato peaked into the office.

“Hello darling!” Yato grinned, folding his sunglasses to hang off his shirt collar. The other nurses snickered as Hiyori sputtered and hissed that she was not, in fact, his darling.

“Yatty!” Kofuku sprang off her seat on the counter, running to give the man a big hug. Yato needed both hands to catch her, which accidently showed off the bouquet of roses he brought with him. Most likely from the gift shop in the lobby.

“Uh, hey,” Yato cleared his throat after he put Kofuku down. Hiyori spun to face him with her arms and legs crossed. Letting a girl jump into his arms in front of her did not help his case, but that wasn’t why she was upset.

“I figured you were on your lunch break,” Yato’s eyes slid to her lunchbox and back, “I brought you roses.” He held out the flowers. Hiyori let her eyes drop to them, then looked up at him. Yato set them down on the desk and fiddled with his fingers.

“So, how’s it going?” He tried. They ignored Kofuku’s snort as she sat down to watch along with the rest of the nurses in the office.

“My parents are starting to get offended, Yato,” Hiyori remarked, “this is the second time you said you couldn’t come over for dinner.”

“Ooo! Dinner!” Kofuku sang. Her two friends gave her a heavy look and she apologized with a grin.

“I know, Hiyori, I’m so sorry. You know weekends aren’t good for me. I tried to talk to Daikoku about it but he hasn’t budged.” The end of Yato’s sentence was heavy with meaning as he let his eyes slide to said man’s wife, sitting happily on the counter.

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Yatty, you know that,” Kofuku shrugged, her smile never leaving. It was a known fact that Daikoku was Yato’s boss in whatever job they had- part of the reason Hiyori believed it wasn’t suspicious- but that was not the point. Her huff got Yato’s attention and he immediately took another step towards her.

“You know I’m super happy you want me to meet them! I really want to meet them too! It’s just the weekends they happen to pick, are when I happen to be working.”

“That’s because my dad likes to watch the game when my mom cooks big meals,” Hiyori pouted, “it’s a bonding thing with him and my brother and any male in the- the- you know, family.” She waved her hand in a way that should have dismissed her words but did nothing to wipe away the red in both their cheeks.

“Am I part of the family?” Yato asked as he crept forward another step, a grin growing on his lips. By now everyone in the room was smiling except her and Hiyori threw her hands up.

“You’re not part of the family yet because you won’t come to family dinner or give the truthful reason as to why,” Hiyori slammed her hands on either side of her paperwork. The entire situation was frustrating because they both had things they wanted to hide. While it’s true Yato wouldn’t talk about his job, he also wouldn’t say his last name. That wasn’t his decision. It was a little known fact that Hiyori’s family owned the very hospital they found themselves in. Because of this, Hiyori had opted out of saying her last name when meeting new people. Just to avoid any assumptions and to ensure they liked her for her. Of course that prompted Yato to insist he wouldn’t give his last name until she did. Another thing that made it hard to research him, since Kofuku wouldn’t say a word. This was also what made this family dinner such a big step for them. Not only would Yato be introduced to her family as a romantic interest, but there would be no hiding how much money her family made. But while it was agreed that family names and overall lifestyles were not to be mentioned, their individual jobs were not.

“Yet?” Yato repeated, still missing the point. With a sigh, Hiyori kneaded her forehead as Yato and Kofuku cooed behind her.

“If you really want to meet them you can probably find them,” Kofuku shrugged.

“Wha-?” Yato cocked his head as Hiyori whipped her chair around to narrow her eyes at Kofuku. It was all too frustrating. The rumors already reached her parents, which both helped convince them she wasn’t lying and made them think Yato was avoiding them. Another sigh escaped her, this time accompanied with a groan. That tampered her friends’ mood and Yato took a seat on the counter next to her, pushing the roses aside.

“I promise I’ll make it up to them. I’ll take them out to dinner, my treat,” Yato offered.

“Yato, you don’t have to do that. Trust me, my parents can pay for themselves.”

“I can too,” Yato said, “I want to, okay? Wherever they want.” It was another promise Yato would have to live up to, but Hiyori appreciated him trying, if not slightly. She looked up to him with a small smile, which Yato returned.

“I have to get back to work,” Hiyori said. Standing, Yato backed off and watched Hiyori stretch.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He urged.

“You said you were working this weekend,” Hiyori reminded him.

“Yeah, I am, I am,” sighed Yato, “but once I’m done I’ll come straight to you.” He finished his declaration with a wink and smiled wider when Hiyori’s own happiness became more genuine. With one kiss to her head, Yato flounced back out the door and left her to sigh and flop back into her chair. By now the rest of the nurses had gone back to their business, leaving Hiyori to pet the rose petals and thoroughly think over her relationship.

“He means it, you know,” Kofuku said. Her tone was so honest compared to her everyday jeer and Hiyori immediately met her serious gaze.

“What?”

“What he does, how he acts around you. Yatty’s always had trouble making friends, let alone opening himself up in the romantic sense. Just like you, he would hardly get past the first date! But I can tell, he does really want to meet your family, the idea makes him so happy. Daikoku says you're all he talks about,” Kofuku chuckled, “Yatty does truly like you a lot.” Her words lit a fire across Hiyori’s cheeks and collarbones but it didn’t completely wipe away Hiyori’s misgivings.

“It’s just-! At first I thought it was an accident or two, then I figured he would get better or change if we got serious. But, I can’t- I don’t want to think about this being a constant thing throughout our relationship.” Hiyori sighed at her lap. Next to her, Kofuku let out a thoughtful hum, setting her chin on her hands.

“You really like him too, huh?” Kofuku mused. The statement caused Hiyori to blink at her but the label on the feeling sounded right. Why else would have given this guy so many chances?

“Yeah, I do,” Hiyori confessed.

“I’m happy for you two. I really am, this was the best thing to happen with you two. I just knew you’d make each other happy!” Kofuku swooned, “you know what?” She spun back around and grabbed her phone. With a couple of taps and chimes, Kofuku was invested in her phone. For a moment, Hiyori thought the flighty nurse got distracted again and forgot about their conversation but when she opened her mouth, Kofuku just held up her finger. After a moment, another chime sounded and Kofuku’s grin grew even more.

“Okay! Clear your schedule this weekend cause we are hanging out!” Kofuku declared. Hiyori sputtered as the bubbly nurse tossed her phone back on the counter.

“Wha-? Kofuku, I have dinner with my parents this weekend!”

“Saturday night is not this weekend.”

“But what will we even be doing?” Hiyori vacillated, leaning back in her chair. Her time with Kofuku outside of work always ended up in absolute chaos. Oftentimes, Kofuku would be wearing that coy, cat-like grin. Much like she was right now, but this one held much more knowledge.

“Why, to Yatty’s job of course!”

Despite Hiyori’s initial shock with Kofuku’s declaration, she couldn’t help but feel apprehension. Of course Hiyori had dabbled on the idea that, while Yato’s job may not be illegal, it could still be less than savory. With the way Yato and Kofuku talked about it, Hiyori thought he may be a stripper; and while she could see Kofuku doing that, she couldn’t actually imagine Daikoku being a part of it. The plate Hiyori was setting on the table stopped mid-air as she thought of the massive, terrifying looking man. Now that she thought of it, he looked exactly like a bouncer, or bartender. One of those men that walked young women, and handsome young men, to their cars late at night. Hiyori shook her head before the thought could sink in, afraid of finding out if she would be okay with it.

“Hiyori?” Her mother questioned from the other side of the table, bundle of utensils in hand.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, mother?”

“Nothing dear, I just thought maybe you were worrying over-”

“Gah!” Her father bellowed from the living room, “how do you miss that?” His short fit of rage simmered down after her older brother ran in and asked what happened. The women waited for the complaints to settle down before her mother sighed.

“I just think that people who really want to, can make the time.” Her mother huffed.

“They better catch up this inning,” her father continued saying.

“He’s told me he can’t do weekends. We see each other a lot during the week,” Hiyori said as she set down the final plate.

“Relax, Yaboku’s up to bat next and there’s two people on base,” her brother replied. Her father’s joyful reply covered her mother’s sigh as they finished setting the table.

“Well, alright dear, if you say so. Some of the nurses did tell me he comes around a lot but I thought that was for an illness or something,”

“There it is!” Her father cheered, “that Yaboku always knocks it right out of the park!”

“Geez, why do they even let him play? Between him and that busty pitcher,” Her brother chuckled.

“Masaomi language!” Her mother huffed before flashing a smile at Hiyori, “well, I had a feeling that might be the case. It’s not every day a boy shows up to the hospital and requests the same nurse.” She winked, leaving Hiyori to choke out a smile. It was rather sweet.

“And Hiyori?” Her mother popped her head in from the kitchen, “tell your father and brother to shut off the game, it’s time for dinner.” With a nod, Hiyori went into the living room and pried her family away from baseball with some difficulty.

Which was why when Hiyori took the train into the city and walked a block to the meeting spot Kofuku proposed, she was shocked to see the stadium. It was ironic and Hiyori couldn’t help but smile as she imagined the jealous faces of her father and brother. Of course, they had season passes to the games but the hospital kept them away.

“Hey Hiyori!” Kofuku suddenly popped into her view.

“Kofuku!” Hiyori pulled her into a hug.

“You ready?” Kofuku coaxed. Hiyori would have been happy to answer had it not been for the sly way Kofuku was holding up a black ribbon.

“Do I have to be blind folded?”

“Yep! Helps with the surprise,” Kofuku pulled the band taunt. It showed how much trust Hiyori gave the young woman, allowing Kofuku to lead her around a city with a blind fold. Then again, it only took a couple minutes for Hiyori to realize Kofuku had actually led them into the stadium. So it wasn’t just a meeting spot, then. Of course, Hiyori could be wrong but the way they shuffled in a massive line and walked up a couple flights proved otherwise. She could smell the popcorn and hotdogs, and hear the chattering of baseball fans. Once Kofuku untied the ribbon, Hiyori’s theory was proven to be correct, but it didn’t answer her question.

“So he works here? Why would that need to be a secret?” Hiyori asked. She could picture Yato working at the snack bar or as a vendor, he was loud and repetitive like that. She could also see him being a security guard or IT, the man was talented.

“Well, I mean he often works here but he doesn’t always, I guess you could put it,” Kofuku tapped her chin with a giggle. That made it more suspicious but Hiyori had to wait for the announcer before asking.

“And now for your home team! First up to bat is first basemen: Abe Toshiki. Second is the catcher: Kazuma Hirano!”

“Is he, uh, the announcer? Or maybe a news reporter? I’m not political, you know?” Hiyori tried to guess. Behind a smirking Kofuku, the home team was running out onto the field as they were introduced.

“Third up to bat is none other than the only female in the big leagues, pitcher: Bishamon Vaisravana!” The third player, rather famous- even Hiyori’s heard of her- strutted out onto the field as the entire stadium erupted in applause and cheers.

“Nooo,” Kofuku purred. It was hard to hear her but Hiyori could read her lips nonetheless.

“Then what?” Hiyori sighed, exasperated, throwing her arms down and resisting the urge to stomp her foot. She knew Kofuku wasn’t a mean person, but Hiyori was starting to feel like the butt end of a joke that toyed with her feelings. Instead of answering, Kofuku pointed up, grin never fading. Following the direction she pointed in, Hiyori looked up to the ceiling of the tunnel and saw nothing but a ceiling. Before her eyes could drop down to Kofuku, they caught on to one of the small TVs that lined the inside. Hiyori found herself frozen as the fourth batter appeared on screen.

“And fourth up to bat, pitcher: Yaboku Ayakashi!” The announcement was met with less applause than with the previous pitcher. Jaw dropped, Hiyori watched all the screens in the stadium light up with Yato’s face, the flamboyant way he posed with the bat, supposed name, and stats. She rushed to the top of the seating area and watched him run out onto the field as he waved and kissed to the crowd. Yato jogged up to stand beside Bishamon, who smacked him when he wouldn’t stop throwing kisses. They got into a tussle right on the field and Hiyori watched Daikoku rush from the dugout, waving a clipboard, and work to separate them. Hiyori tried to close her jaw while an entire stadium of people laughed at her major league boyfriend while his major league coach worked to wrestle him on national television.

“He’s,” Hiyori pointed at the field and Kofuku gently set her hands on Hiyori’s shoulders.

“Let’s go sit down,” Kofuku nudged Hiyori down the stairs and into their seats. They didn’t talk until after the national anthem and the rest of the announcements.

“Yato is his alias, for obvious reasons,” Kofuku said as munched on the popcorn she swiped from an actual vendor.

“Uh huh,” Hiyori breathed. She still couldn’t believe it, just wait until her family hears. Now that she thought about it, they were just talking about him last night. Had she glanced at the screen, she wouldn’t be this flabbergasted. Of all the things.

“That’s what was so funny, you know? You both were keeping secrets about yourselves for the same reason,” she tossed more kernels in her mouth, “of course, now that I brought you here, you’ll have to tell him the truth.” Kofuku smiled at her and Hiyori felt her lips quirk up. This practically guaranteed Yato wasn’t after her money. Plus he would almost definitely be loved by her family for having such an occupation. By the time Hiyori settled down, Yato was up to bat. Again his stats came up and the entire stadium filled with anticipation. Hiyori knew enough about baseball to know that with the bases filled, Yato was to bring them home. She thought about what her father said and waited for the pitch.

“What do those numbers mean?” Hiyori asked without looking away.

“Hmm? Oh! Those are Yatty’s batting stats see the RBI? That’s how many times Yatty sent people home like this,” Kofuku explained, “It’s also why is H stats, hits, are so high. Highest in the league in fact. He’s trying for the Hall of Fame, it’s been his dream for a long time.”

“Ah,” Hiyori hummed. The number was high, but she was confused why Yato hadn't hit for the first couple pitches. Three balls two strikes, that meant he would have to hit or leave soon. Hiyori’s fists tightened in her lap with anticipation. Suddenly, Yato stepped out and did some practice swings.

“Honestly Yatty, making a big show again,” Kofuku sighed. Hiyori was confused for a moment until Yato sauntered up to the plate, using the tip of his bat to trace the plate with his butt out. Then he swung the tool up in the air, pointing up and out of the stadium. The crowd roared, cheers mixed with the booing of the rival team. It was then Hiyori saw his hips wiggle and realize he was taunting the pitcher. Her laughter came out in a breath just as the ball was thrown. Yato’s bat sliced through the air with cut-throat precision and sent the ball right to where he pointed, disappearing into the stands.

The stadium cheered as the team was sent home, Yato bringing up the rear as he waved. Hiyori’s smile was just as broad as Yato’s and she stood up with the people around her. She was happy, caught up in the excitement of the game and the pride of knowing they had feelings for each other. Beside her, Kofuku stood and cheered, elbowing Hiyori’s side with a sly smirk. When the celebration died down and the next player was up to bat, the girls sat down. The game got going and, despite Yato and the home team being phenomenal hitters, the other team refused to back down. Four innings and several crowd games later, Kofuku decided to poke Hiyori’s side.

“Want to let him know you’re here?” Kofuku cooed. Just like that all of Hiyori’s excitement vanished and she was left sputtering.

“Wha-? But, but I-! I mean how? Don’t distract him!” Hiyori insisted. She tried not to think about how she would approach the conversation, that she went against their initial agreement, but Hiyori knew she didn’t want to do it during the game. The fact that Kofuku was typing on her phone was a bad sign. Currently, the rival team was back on the field, warming up before the game resumed. Yato batted in the last turn, so he most likely wouldn’t make an appearance until the next inning. Instead he draped his arms over the fence of his dugout, blowing a bubble with pink gum so that it popped and scared Kazuma, someone he told her was his best friend. When they met, they offered a double date and Hiyori wondered if Kazuma’s girlfriend was watching him too.

“Kofuku, what are you-?” Hiyori was interrupted again by Kofuku holding up a finger. She pressed the phone to her ear and looked directly at her husband. From on the field, Daikoku immediately picked up with a smile, waving his clipboard at a much older looking coach with a goatee. Hiyori couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise of the game but she saw Daikoku turn and look at them, Kofuku standing and gesturing wildly to Hiyori and the jumbotron.

“No!” Hiyori gasped, “Kofuku, no, don’t you dare!” But it was too late. Kofuku hung up and Hiyori could see Daikoku talking into his headset.

“Alright ladies and gentleman!” The announcer boomed around the field, “it seems we have a special guest in the stadium today! Someone who can handle our number 4 and who he’s set his sights on!” The stadium filled with gasps and ‘awe’s as everyone immediately started whispering their inquiries. Nervousness and anxiety, like she hadn’t felt since her childhood piano recitals, crackled throughout Hiyori’s body as she remained rooted at the spot. She wanted to sit down, to sink into the folding chair and block her ears of the announcement, but then she wouldn’t be able to see Yato as he perked up and asked Daikoku what was happening.

Then, when his head whipped around and his blue eyes grew wide, Hiyori followed his gaze to the massive flat screen. There she stood, face red from the heat and embarrassment, looking up and off to the side. Since she thought Kofuku would be taking her to some sort of shop or restaurant, Hiyori had dressed in heels and skirt, her hand bunching the front of her blouse. It was painful how much she stuck out, clearly not dressed for a ball game, but the hoots and whistles came all the same. Instead of finding the camera, which was somewhere below them from the way Kofuku hung off her to wave, Hiyori looked immediately to her boyfriend.

Yato was already looking at them, directly at her to be precise, like he figured out exactly where they were yet couldn’t believe it. It was only when their eyes met, and the world stilled and the sounds muffled, that Yato seemed to process what he was seeing. It was as if they were face to face, Yato’s joy radiated from his eyes first, then his smile. He took off his cap and waved it frantically, like he was saying goodbye to a cruise ship. It wasn’t enough, Yato tried to climb the fence and wave even harder, his body hanging out of the dugout while Kazuma grabbed his belt and tried to pull him back in. Hiyori couldn’t help but giggled and wave shyly back, ignoring the cheers of the people surrounding her and the cooes of the announcer. Her family was definitely watching this at home and would probably call her after they picked up their jaws off the floor. But Hiyori found she would be happy to if it meant she could see such an adorable grin all the time.

“I have also been instructed to inform you that the adorable young lady in the coach’s jersey is off limits, for your own safety,” the announcer eventually tacked on, signaling Kofuku to spin around and point to the name and number on her unbuttoned jersey.

By the end of the game, the home team finished with an impressive lead and Hiyori was quickly tugged into an empty suite. People were still leaving the game but Kofuku left Hiyori to call her family back- her brother, mother, uncle, and cousins- and get some candy. Saying goodbye to her older cousin, Hiyori finally hung up and put her phone away with a sigh. Her brother’s phone call had been the most exhausting. Apparently, he had recorded the game because he couldn’t stop laughing and pay attention to the rest of it. It wasn’t Hiyori’s sudden screen time that got him; It was the fact that every time Yato got onto a base, or made a play, or caught her eye, he would wave dramatically at her. Eventually she had to ignore him because he would completely turn away from the game to beam at her, jumping up and down and shouting every time he ran to home plate. Hiyori worried the crowd would start to get annoyed at her if one of the star players kept getting distracted. But somehow Yato did even better than before, so she was left alone.

“Hiyori? Ya done?” Kofuku poked her head in the room.

“Huh? Oh yeah!” Hiyori frantically tried to fix herself, ignoring the grin Kofuku gave her. She definitely saw the soft smile she was just wearing while thinking about Yato’s antics. The premium seating was located up by the club, open for members only, so the area was air conditioned and covered with carpet and trophies, making it considerably quieter than the rest of the building. It was because of this the girls were able to walk to the elevator and take it down to the basement without anyone approaching them. The bodyguards must have recognized Kofuku, because they let her trapeze past the batting cages with a nod. The entire basement was filled with the excited chatter of a team that just won. It was when Hiyori heard running water and saw Kofuku was walking towards an open door with steam coming out, that she opened her mouth to say something. Thankfully, Kofuku stopped about half way down the hall and cupped her mouth.

“Yattyyy! Guess who’s hereee?” Kofuku sang into the hallway. From another doorway on the right, closer than the showers but certainly just as loud, Yato rocketed into the hallway. He skitted, facing them with his jersey open to reveal black Under Armour and loose shorts. Hiyori met his eyes again, brighter from this close, and watched his smile grow.

“Hiyori!” Yato cheered, dashing at her in flip flops. She squeaked when he practically tackled her into a hug, squeezing her tight. When she wrapped his arms around him out of habit, Hiyori realized he hadn’t showered and the entire side of her face and neck was now slick with another’s sweat. She also noticed he smelled good, like someone sprayed him head to toe with sports deodorant.

“You came!” He gushed, sounding truly happy for someone who never talked about his job. But Hiyori couldn’t find it in her to be mad. With a tap to his shoulder, Yato pulled back, fixing his smile directly on her.

“You did great!” Hiyori complemented, her own giddy smile forming.

“Really? You think so?” He swooned, “Thank you! That means a lot coming from you.” His honest smile caused her heart to throb.

“Please, it was average at best,” a femine voice sounded from behind him. They separated to see Bishamon strut up to them with Kazuma and Daikoku following behind.

“And get off the poor woman,” Daikoku huffed, “you’ll get her sweat all over her.” He crossed his arms and looked Hiyori up and down as if to scan her for Yato’s sweat.

“Oh shut up, I’m not,” Yato growled back. He did separate from Hiyori though but didn’t put too much space between them.

“I’m surprised you really exist,” Bishamon said, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“Of course she exists!” Yato threw her arm around her shoulders but Hiyori removed it and held his hand instead.

“Viina, I told you that,” Kazuma sighed from her side. He appeared to be the only player with the sense to shower after the game.

“Yeah but I know how you are with him, you two keeps secrets,” Bishamon narrowed her eyes at him but Kazuma just laughed awkwardly. It was then Hiyori decided to take a small step forward and offer a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Hiyori, my family is a big fan,” Hiyori greeted as she shook the blonde’s hand.

“Nice to meet you too,” the beautiful woman smiled, “please tell me if this leech is holding you captive.

“I am not, skank!” Yato snapped at her. From beside him, Hiyori gasped and swatted his shoulder.

“Yato! Don’t say that!” Her words caused his jaw to click shut and he blinked.

“I’m sorry,” Yato said immediately. The rest of his friends stared at him like he just sprouted a second head. This time it was Bishamon’s jaw that fell open while Daikoku let out a low whistle.

“See?” Kofuku grinned, “I told you it was serious.” That statement caused Hiyori to stop and she felt her heart clench again, this time in a guilty way. She looked up at Yato with a slight plea, biting her lip.

“Actually Yato, can I talk to you real quick?” hesitated Hiyori. She could feel the hallway’s cheer droop slightly but Yato gave a jerk of a nod.

“Sure.” He held his hand up and Daikoku tossed him some keys. Walking to the end of the hall, Yato opened a door with the glass window sporting Diakoku’s name. Yato flipped on the lights to reveal a modest office and faced her with his hands in his pockets.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what’s up?” his voice cracked. In front of her, her hands clenched the strap of her purse and her skirt.

“Yato, I know that neither of us have been completely honest with each other,” Hiyori started. She heard him suck in a sharp breath and quickly sped forward.

“I know you didn’t want me to know about your job, Kofuku didn’t tell me but she did show me so I’m sorry. But! Now I know we were keeping secrets for the same reason. I didn’t tell you about my name or family because I wanted to make sure you weren’t after my family’s money.” She said. Yato blinked and some of the awkwardness melted away.

“Oh, uh, that’s good, I guess?” He coughed.

“Yeah! Yeah, it is. And now you know I’m not after you because you’re-?” She wasn’t exactly sure how much a professional ball player made compared to a doctor-family that owned a hospital, but Yato shrugged nonetheless.

“A star?” He offered. The picture of him wearing layers in public flashed across her mind and she snorted. Soon they dissolved into giggles that quickly climbed to laughter.

“So what are you?” Yato asked as they died down, “a gymnast? Ballet?”

“No,” Hiyori stuck out her hand, “my full name is Hiyori Iki.” Her hand, which was taken without much thought, slowed it’s excited shaking.

“Iki?” Yato repeated slowly. The syllables clunked along his tongue as the wheels in his brain turned.

“As in the, uh-”

“As in the hospital you always go to, yes,” Hiyori held his hand gently, “it’s been in my family for generations and most of my family works in the medical field.” Her confession came out in a heavy breath, taking the weight with it. Now that it was out in the open, Hiyori could only stare at her feet as Yato decided whether or not he wanted to bear the name of the city hospital. She waited with bated breath as the room filled with silence.

“Oh so no wonder you’re so good at patching me up,” Yato praised with a nod and grin, “runs in the family.”

“Really you don’t mind?” Hiyori finally looked back up at him with something close to hope. Yato just blinked in surprise.

“Mind? No, why would I mind?”

“It’s just my family is old, old money; a-and the hospital is a big name to carry! Not that I- or marriage is a thing!” She sputtered with frantic hands.

“It’s not?” Yato pouted.

“No.” Hiyori narrowed her eyes through her embarrassment, Yato letting out a sigh before smiling.

“Hiyori, I think it’s super cool your family owns the hospital! Look, I don’t know anything about old money or what that entails. I come from nothing, I stayed on the field all night as a child. Baseball is what got me through life; It carried me through school, it was the whole reason I went to be honest. But, I like you. I really like you. And if playing baseball is what’s going to keep me by your side, then that’s just an extra blessing that came with the sport.

“If you’re worried about money, don’t, I’m not after your family’s discount or anything. And Daikoku’s going to have to drag me off the field to get me to retire! And once that happens, I’ll probably coach or go on talk shows or star in films; I already coach this middle school team sometimes- none of them believe I work here- and this one kid is just like me I swear! Haha! So just,” Yato squeezed her hands, “keep being my girlfriend?” He had to catch his breath from that speech and Hiyori had to close her mouth, shocked from hearing him talk so much so seriously.

“I read on the schedule you’re out of town soon.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

“When you come back, will you meet my parents?” Hiyori asked.

“You kidding!” Yato laughed joyfully, “I’ll bring them all season passes and signed baseballs!” He wrapped his arms around her waist and Hiyori muttered about how fast her family would fall in love with him if he did. Hiyori peaked up at him through her lashes, eyeing the dirt stains that spotted his cheeks around that goofy grin. Grabbing his collar, Hiyori yanked him down for a passionate kiss.

“So,” Hiyori breathed, “does this mean I get to wear your number?”

#noragami #noragami au #noragami fanfiction #noragami fanfic #yato #yatogami #noragami yato #yato noragami #hiyori #hiyori iki #iki hiyori #noragami hiyori #kofuku #yatori week #yatori #yatori week 2021

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downwiththeficness · 4 years

Text

A Need So Great-Chapter 8

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~7,100

Warnings: Drugs, smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand

Okay, so I know that this isn’t exactly how a contact high works, but I wanted the funny moment. Suspend your disbelief a little further than it already is for me.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

“No,” she said, jabbing a finger at Javier, “I’m not doing this.”

“C’mon,” he replied, gesturing with both hands, “It’ll be a half hour, max.”

She sneered, occupying her hands with packing her bag instead of punching him like she wanted to. He was smiling in that way he did when he knew that he would get his way. A self satisfied smirk that made her want to throw something at him.

“A half hour of your time. You’ll walk in, look around, walk out.”

Eva glared at him, “I have plans.”

And, she did. Though his evenings were often spent working into the night, Eva had been out with him several times over the last few weeks. She was looking forward to yet another night checking herself for talking too much and watching him smile wide enough that she could see his dimples.

“Push ‘em back.”

She scoffed, “I’m not pushing back plans to work in the field, which you remember that I’m not supposed to be doing.”

He waved her off, “It’ll be fine. You’re walking into a bar, looking around, and walking out.”

“I’m not walking into any bar!”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

Eva spun around, letting out a breath as Horacio slowed to a stop, his jacket over one arm.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a hitch pitched wheeze. “I’m just gonna...finish packing up.”

He eyed the others in the room, “What’s going on?”

Steve, who had been silent for nearly the whole argument, pushed from his position against his desk, “We got a lead on a back end shipment of drugs—low level, nothing serious. And, we thought since Eva is so good at sniffing these things out, she could maybe stop by the bar and see if she could pin point where they were stashing them.”

“So basically,” Eva added, sarcasm in her voice, “They want me to do their job for them.”

Javier ran a hand over his face, “That’s not what we’re asking you to do.”

Eva glared at him a second time, one hand on her hip.

“You are good at it,” Horacio offered.

She turned her glare on him, “You’re on their side?”

He held up a hand defensively, “I’m not on sides, just stating facts.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Okay, listen. Eva, you just go in, look around, leave. You don’t even have to order a drink. Half an hour, tops.”

Her mouth thinned as she looked at all three men, who were apparently agreeing with one another. Although they’d had plenty of arguments, it was the first time they were all on the same side and it was...disconcerting.

Horacio slipped his arms into his jacket, “Half an hour. And, she gets the day off tomorrow. Javi, you’ll cover for her. Tell them you sent files to her apartment or something.”

Okay, maybe he was a little on her side.

Javier nodded, “Done.”

“Good, what’s the address?”

Eva blinked, wondering what the fuck had just happened. She watched as Horacio listened to the address, grabbed her purse, and guided her out of the office. It took her until they were on the road for her brain to finally catch up.

“Did you just negotiate a paid day off for me?”

He glanced over at her and smiled, “You need it. They’re working you too hard.”

“You’re one to talk about working too hard.”

This was true. Even when he was supposed to be relaxed, his mind would still wander away to work periodically. She could by the way his eyes went just a little cold. There was nothing to be done about it. This was the toll the work took on a person, no matter how strong.

“Point taken,” he retorted, pulling into a parking lot.

The bar looked like any other, populated by locals, busy. She squinted at it, wondering how they got shipments in and out.

“Listen,” she said, reaching out to touch his forearm, “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was frustrated that I keep getting pulled into these things, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, “You’re fine. And, you should be frustrated because you’re right. You’re doing their leg work.”

Eva turned her gaze back to the bar, “I don’t actually mind doing a little reconnaissance, but I’m supposed to be spending time with someone I like, not warding off advances from drunk assholes while I try to figure out where the drugs are coming in at.”

Horacio’s grip on her hand tightened a fraction, “I think I can help with that.”

She looked at him, intrigued, “Yeah?”

He hummed in assent, turning her hand over and pressing his mouth the inside of her wrist. Eva felt her breath stutter as he kissed it gently, his eyes finding hers and holding. He rolled his tongue over the sensitive skin, tasting. Her breath stopped entirely. He gave her wrist another little kiss, then reached for her other hand. He was marking her and she was letting him. It surprised her how little that bothered her in that moment. She was even excited about the thought of carrying his scent with her into that bar. There wouldn’t be a single man in there, alpha or otherwise, who wouldn’t know she was with someone, despite the fact that she was clearly unmated.

Eva shivered, her mouth parting on a soft moan. Unable to stand it a moment longer, she leaned over and kissed him. The position was a little awkward, the console digging into her hip, but well worth the discomfort. She started to pull back and he stopped her.

Against her mouth, he said, “Half an hour. After that, I’m coming in after you.”

Shaking her head, she teased, “Won’t that be a little suspicious, me coming in, looking around, and leaving with the police. You’re like a minor celebrity here, you know.”

He lifted a brow, “I’ll make it look like an arrest.”

At this she laughed, leaning back into the seat, “You just want to see if I can still get out of the cuffs. Admit it.”

Releasing her, he regarded her with a curious gaze, “I admit that I really want to know how you learned to do it.”

Eva opened the door, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll never tell.”

She caught him saying ‘we’ll see about that’ as she shut the door and headed for the entrance. The place was pretty standard, as far as bars went. There was a band playing, so she could count on almost everyone being at least a little distracted by the music. At least, distracted enough not to notice that she wasn’t drinking and wasn’t dancing. She made a circuit around the room, trying to think of how she would have hidden an illegal shipment back in the day.

It certainly wouldn’t have been at a bar. Josh had been against establishments like this, thought they were places for degenerates. Fifteen years later and she could finally roll her eyes at the hypocrisy of his entire personality. It felt like a big middle finger to even the memory of him to be frequenting bars—it was one of the first things she did when she was released.

But, where would she hide something she didn’t want to be found in a place like this. Not behind the bar. Bartenders couldn’t always be trusted, too much turnover, too easy to buy. Not in the store room, too much traffic. Eva made another lap, pretending to be looking at the art on the walls. There had to be an office.

She went to the back and had to dodge one of the staff by stepping into the bathroom. So she had time to think, she went into one of the stalls and sat. The place looked clean, at least from the outside. She couldn’t even find an entrance that would support a trailer backing up to it to move the goods. Although, it would be smart to access from underground...

Standing, she gave the toilet an unnecessary flush and left the bathroom, moving further down the hall. The office door was open a crack, and she took a moment to check to see if anyone was watching before she touched the door to open it further. Empty. Empty and boring.

With a huff, Eva stood next to the emergency exit and leaned against the wall, staring at a picture of a dog. Just an ordinary dog standing at attention. It looked...bland. Like it had been purchased at a big box store and hung without ceremony. Which, made her think it was odd. The rest of the art in the place was from local artists, price tags written in neat handwriting beside each one.

The dog was looking at something out of the frame. Eva followed the direction of its snout to...a window. It was covered in a frosty film to obscure the outside. She stood on tip toes to see if she could see where it was pointing, both hands leaning into the sill—which moved.

Did everyone have a thing about hidden doors in this country?

Looking over her shoulder, Eva stepped inside. She was not alone. The room was small, basically a cupboard, but it led to another room where a pair of men were talking. Talking and toking. The smell of weed was pungent enough that her nose wrinkled. Although Eva had been pretty well inured to pot while she was with Josh, she hadn’t had a moment that she didn’t feel watched by her superiors since she’d signed the contract. Any opportunity she had to partake was overshadowed by the possibility of a drug test. Every breath she took made her want to cough. She held it in before taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep her cover.

She couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but Eva was able to duck down enough that she could see inside the room they were talking in. They were sitting in lawn chairs, passing a blunt between them, the smoke billowing out towards her due to the fans that were running lazily nearby.

Eva squinted, they were...thawing ice. Gigantic ice cubes sat on a table, little kiddie pools sitting below them to catch the runoff. She stared at them and almost laughed. They’d frozen the weed into ice cubes in an attempt to mask the smell. That was definitely new. She sat for a few minutes, trying to see if she could spot a company name that they were shipping under. She got nothing.

Knowing that she was on borrowed time, Eva backed up and peered out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before she stepped out of the little cupboard and closed the door behind her. She exited the bar in the least suspicious way she could manage, finally giving in to the urge to cough as she made it outside.

Across the parking lot, she could see that Carrillo was watching for her. With quick steps, she headed for him, climbing up into the truck.

“You see anything interesting?” he asked as she pulled the seat belt over her torso.

Eva nodded, “Let’s maybe get a few blocks from here before I start explaining.”

He turned the engine over, “Javier and Steve are not too far away.”

“Good,” she said, wondering why her eyes were so damn dry. “They can write up the report.”

Eva rubbed carefully at her eyes, trying not to disturb her mascara. She just felt...dry. Her eyes, her throat.

“You okay?”

She blinked, “Yeah, I’m okay. Allergies.”

He was right, Javier and Steve weren’t far away, a matter of a few blocks and one four way stop. They were sitting at an outdoor cafe, drinking beer. Eva took the one that was offered to her, drinking deep. It was a moment before she realized that they were waiting for her to talk.

“Oh, right,” she said, setting the bottle down. “I mean, pretty simple operation. They’ve got a false door behind the window in the back by the picture of the dog. They’re putting the product in ice to conceal the smell, although I don’t know that it would fool a trained dog. Back room is where they melt it down, probably where they weigh it, too.”

Javier stared at her, “That’s it.”

She frowned, “I’m sorry, has it escaped your notice that I’ve now found two caches of illegal substances? I know you were looking for coke and not pot, but ‘That’s it?’ Seriously?”

Even Eva could admit to herself that she was snapping at him, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. This would have been a perfect night for a date. A little balmy, warm enough that she didn’t need a jacket. She could have gone to that bar to dance with Horacio, but no, she went to sneak around. The whole thing annoyed her.

Javier rolled his eyes, “Thank you.”

“That was really sincere. I appreciate the sincerity,” her tone was biting.

He frowned, “What is with you today?”

Eva breathed deep and dropped her head into her hands. Horacio’s scent was still there, a warm, sweet thing that mellowed her ire. She inhaled it in an attempt to distract herself.

“Nothing,” she said, eventually, “Just, forget about it.”

And, that seemed to satisfy him, if no one else at the table. Steve was eyeing her with that curious expression he used when he wanted to ask a question, but wouldn’t. Beside her, Horacio laid a hand on her hip with just the slightest pressure. She leaned into it, grateful for the support.

“We could raid it tonight,” Javier said as he lit a cigarette.

Dear God, Eva thought with ire, I might as well go home now. Any hope she might have had of picking up their date was gone. At least she’d get to sleep with his scent wrapped around her, if not his body. He’d make sure she got home, kiss her goodnight, and then go off to raid a bar. She’d be a little lonely, but that stupid hope for a better tomorrow would be there. It would have been sad, except this same situation had happened once before, over and over when she’d been married—different players, same game—and Eva found that karma was certainly one hell of a bitch.

It said something for her state of mind that she didn’t realize she was laughing until her stomach started hurting. She drew in a breath, dropping her hands to the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I’ve just had the worst case of déjà vu.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, “You want to share with the class?”

Eva shook her head, “Nope.”

It was then that Eva knew something wasn’t right. She usually wasn’t this argumentative—stubborn, yes, but not outright argumentative. She had better manners than that—oh, fuck. Eva closed her eyes and tried not to freak out. It was just a tiny contact high. She could manage it—in front of a high ranking police officer and two DEA agents. This was doable. She kept her head down, just in case.

“You want to make the call?” Javier said when she didn’t elaborate.

Horacio shrugged, “I’m off tonight. It’ll be there tomorrow.”

Eva could tell by the way Javier’s eyes narrowed that this was an unusual response. Hell, she was even surprised by it. Her sense of karma evaporated as quickly as it came and she had to keep herself from staring open mouthed at him. Javier threw back the rest of his beer and stood, walking away without saying anything.

Steve rolled his eyes, “We’ll call you in the morning to work it out. Thanks, Eva.”

“No problem,” Eva called out, waving as she watched him walk off. Then, “I think you pissed him off.”

Horacio shrugged, “I’m not wrong. It will be there tomorrow.”

“I didn’t say you were wrong,” Eva replied, “But I am surprised by it.”

He helped her to stand, leading her back to the truck, “Which part?”

“Hmm?” She was distracted by the feeling of his hand guiding her to where he’d parked.

“Which part are you surprised by?”

She leaned against the side of the truck, looking him over, “You’re a get up and go kind of guy. You don’t put things off until tomorrow.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re right, I don’t.” Then, he added, “In the interest of not putting things off, do you want to tell me what that was back there?”

Eva could feel the blush heat her cheeks, and she couldn’t keep her mouth from smiling stupidly. She looked down, trying to cover it.

“No,” he said, stepping forward and grasping her chin. “Don’t start doing that. Is it an inside thought?”

She giggled, “No. Its not an inside thought.”

“Then, what?” He caught her eye, saying her name in a slow, cajoling tone, “Tell me.”

Huffing, Eva bit down on the inside of her cheek, “They had a lot of pot in there. I mean, a metric fuck ton.”

She tried to go on, but found the explanation that formed in her mind to be too stupid, even internally. How was she supposed to verbalize it without it sounding equally stupid?

His pulled back a bit, analyzing her expression with half a smile, “I haven’t seen you this flustered since that meeting in the conference room. Its cute.”

“Oh, don’t call me cute,” Eva bit out, but she couldn’t maintain the facade of anger, devolving into little giggles as he looked at her in wonder. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

She inhaled, letting her head fall to his chest, her hands running down his arms to thread her fingers through his.

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

“I promise.”

“In the bar, while I was scoping out the back, I had to sit there for a few minutes. And… there was a lot of smoke.”

She hated the way her voice pitched upwards at the end of the sentence, as if it were a question. She hated even more that she couldn’t look at him when she said it.

It started with a blown out breath and then he was holding his breath for several beats. Even with her forehead resting against him, she knew that he was working to hold off a laugh.

“I knew it,” she cried out, looking up at him, “I knew you would laugh. I have a contact high and you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” he said as he definitely laughed.

“You are,” Eva shot back, crossing her arms.

He cupped her cheek, “Don’t pout.”

She tilted her face up when he drew her in for a kiss, arms wrapping around his middle to keep him close. He kissed her softly, and she could feel him trying not to smile into it. Feeling not a little vengeful, she nipped at him, soothing it just a little with a swipe of her tongue.

“Its late,” he said between kisses, “Let me take you home.”

Eva was grateful that she was leaned up against the truck, her balance a little off, which was par for the course whenever they kissed. It was like as soon as their lips touched, she got a sudden rush of wild vertigo that made her dizzy in the best way. She hoped that feeling never faded. A stupid, unrelenting hope.

As they drove through the streets, she watched the buildings pass by, the wheels of her mind working.

“I can hear you thinking over there,” he said at a stoplight, looking over at her.

Eva ducked her head and blushed, “Yes, I’m thinking.”

“What about?”

The light turned green, but his eyes stayed on her and his foot remained on the brake. She glanced behind them. The road was empty.

“Um,” she began, “I was thinking that sooner or later we should probably acknowledge the obvious.”

He turned a little, resting his forearm on the console, “What is that?”

“That I am an omega and that you are an alpha. That just about any time I spend with you drives me absolutely crazy.”

He observed her with a curious look in his eye, “Is this good or bad?”

She smiled, “Good, very good. At least I think so.”

He regarded her curiously, “Then, why would we need to acknowledge it.”

Eva leveled a sardonic look at him, “You marked me today, Horacio. You knew what you were doing when you did it.”

“I did.”

It relieved her that he wasn’t going to evade the conversation. She’d never done this before, and his straightforward attitude made her push forward despite the unsteadiness in her voice.

“I was brought up to believe that...meant something.”

She felt herself holding her breath a little. Eva had been out of society on and off since age fourteen, she hadn’t bothered to really learn the ins and outs of these kinds of relationships. She hadn’t thought she would need it.

The light turned yellow, then red.

“Is this the weed talking?”

Eva barked out a laugh, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, “No, no. It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

She’d given him an out, and part of her hoped that he would take it. Another part of her hoped that he’d at least give her some idea of what this was.

“Eva, do you remember what I said when we met at the church? That I couldn’t breathe when I first met you?”

Nodding, Eva kept quiet, barely managing to quash the feeling bubbling up inside her. She needed a clear head for this, needed to make sure she didn’t allow herself to get carried away.

He licked his lips, his eyes searching her face, “Do you know what I also felt? When you were telling us about your husband? I felt rage. Sitting in front of me is the most delicious omega I’ve ever met and someone thought they could lay hands on her.” His hand flexed on the wheel, his scent sharpening. “And when you said you’d killed him for it, I thought to myself, ‘she doesn’t need protection’.”

The light turned green and he let off the brake, the car picking up acceleration.

“But, I wanted to give it to you, anyways.”

Eva searched for words, finding nothing. She settled on, “Really?”

He nodded, reaching over to take her hand, “Then, you saved my ass in the bar fight.”

“I think that was more of a gunfight,” she commented, feeling warm all over.

“It was both,” he asserted, giving her hand a little squeeze, “You still kept me from getting shot.”

Eva scoffed, “I also threw a Molotov cocktail and set the place on fire.”

Horacio laughed, releasing her hand to pull into her neighborhood. He took it back almost immediately, “That was inventive.”

She shrugged, “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought the table would hold.”

He rolled a shoulder, “That table was not going to hold. It was basically plywood.”

“You’re right,” she agreed as her apartment building came into view, “It was shit.”

He parked, got out, and circled to open the door for her. She tried not to smile too wide when he held her hand up to her door. She reached into her purse and pulled out her key, opening the lock.

“Do you,” she started, fortifying her courage, “Want to come in?”

He tilted her chin up, looking at her for a few seconds. Eva’s eyes narrowed in confusion before she scoffed, pulling her chin away.

“I’m fine. I was the smallest bit high for, like, fifteen minutes. I’ve got full control over my faculties.” A moment later, she amended, “Well, as much control as I ever do around you.”

When he didn’t answer, she touched his chest, “Listen, if you don’t want to, I understand.”

His hand came up and gripped her wrist, “I’ve told you before that you shouldn’t mistake restraint for a lack of want.”

“Okay,” she breathed, “So, are you going to follow through on that want?”

Horacio pushed her back into the apartment, closing the door behind him. She went willingly, dropped her bag to the side. She sighed into a welcome kiss, draping her arms over his shoulders.

Pulling away, he held up a finger, “One thing: I need you to let me lead. I’ll make sure you feel good, but let me set the pace.”

Lips parted, Eva felt a kind of fervent gratitude that quickly morphed into affection, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

He watched her for a second before he leaned down and kissed her again, their tongues tangling together. Eva felt her body go lax, most of her weight leaning into him. She let him lead her backwards, his hands pulling her close. The steps were small and slow, interspersed with deep, lazy kisses.

As they moved down the hall, he pulled her blouse up and out of her skirt, slipping his hands underneath. Eva groaned as he cupped her breasts over her bra, kneading the flesh. He was taking his time with her, his touches patient, thorough. It was driving her crazy.

Maneuvering her into the bedroom, Horacio finally pulled her blouse over her head, tossing it aside. He gripped her hips, eyeing her skirt.

“You’ve worn this skirt before,” he said raggedly, “I’ve had dreams about this skirt.”

Hands moving quickly, he pulled the zipper down and pushed the fabric to the floor. Eva, in an attempt to quell the little bit of nervousness that she was feeling, tugged at the polo he had tucked into his pants. She struggled to get it up and over his shoulders, too preoccupied with the way he was palming her ass. Taking pity on her, he reached behind him and pulled it up and over his head.

Oh, that is not fair, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry. The man dressed like a middle aged dad, halfway to a mid-life crisis—all khakis and variations of a polo shirt—and it was hiding such a strong, sensuous body. Eva knew he was powerful, had felt the firm press of muscle when he held her, but dear God, he was gorgeous all over.

Helping her down to the bed, he knelt in front of the mattress, kissing up her stomach as his fingers unsnapped her bra. It went the way of her other clothing, followed by her panties.

“Lean back,” he said in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

She slowly let her weight fall to the bed as he parted her thighs. There wasn’t much light in the room, just what was filtered in from the open door to the hall and the streetlights from the window. But, in it, she could see him staring at her, tongue rolling over his bottom lip. More than a little self conscious, she tried to close her legs, eyes diverted.

Fingers tightening on her knees, his eyes flicked up to her, “No.”

A simple directive. An order from an alpha that Eva had no hope of disobeying. Her hips opened and her legs fell to the side. If she wasn’t anticipating his next move so much, she might have had it in her to figure out a way to wipe the smirk off his face.

It faded soon enough. The first touch of his mouth on her shocked Eva so much that she jerked, her hips pulling back. Making a sound of displeasure, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the end of the bed, hooking her legs over his shoulders. His hands pressed onto her stomach, holding her still as he laid his tongue flat against her, licking from bottom to top in one long stripe. Eva tried to calm her breathing, her fingers digging into the comforter below her. The heat of his mouth coupled with the confidence in every movement made for a heady combination.

Moaning lowly, he sucked each of her lips in turn, moving back and forth, tongue dipping inside before starting again. Over and over in slow, meticulous succession, until Eva was rolling her hips up, trying to get more friction. His thumb moved to circle her clit, rubbing around it, avoiding the tightest bundle of nerves.

She whined, carding her hand into his curls, trying to wordlessly urge him to give her more. He seemed to hear her—in the next second, he was pushing two fingers into her in one slow, careful thrust. Her breath caught in her throat, releasing on a high pitched moan when he shifted up and gave a firm suck to her clit. And then another. And another. Her eyes closed, losing all control over her body. Her heels dug into his back as she used as much leverage as she could to get closer.

Nose pushing into her pubic bone, Horacio added a third finger, the stretch burning despite how obscenely wet she was. Eva’s eyes rolled back, the orgasm clenching down on him hard. She cried out, a hoarse sound that he echoed as he buried his face deeper between her thighs, tongue rolling over her folds eagerly.

He eased her legs down, lightly massaging her thighs before he rose to lean over her. Eva was still catching her breath when he kissed up the column of her throat and over to her scent gland, sucking gently on it. She gave a reedy moan, body curling up and around him.

He shushed her, easing her back down onto the bed. More kisses, a gentle massage against her folds that had her already simmering arousal making a slow ascent upwards once more. Needy and wanting more, Eva grabbed the back of his neck, arching her body into his. It was then that she realized he was still wearing the goddamned khakis. She pulled away, pushing her fingers beneath his belt buckle, pulling the leather through the bar and managing to get the it loose before he grabbed both of her hands.

“I told you that you needed to let me lead, Eva,” he grumbled, looking down at her with censure.

She bit her lip, fingers curling into little fists as she waited for...she didn’t know what. Would he stop?

Making a soft tsking sound, he pushed her hair from her face, “I’m going to get you ready, okay?”

Eva laughed softly, “I just came, Horacio. I think I’m ready.”

Shaking his head, he pulled one of her hands down, flattening her palm against the fly of his pants. She let him hold her there, curving her fingers over the shape of him. Her smile faded just a little as the mapped him. Although she might say that he was average in length, in width—well, fuck. Her body clenched as she thought about how tightly he would fill her up, how he might not even fit.

In a rush of determination, Eva slipped the button of his fly loose and pushed her hand down between his pants and underwear. He hissed as she gave him a slow, firm stroke. Her original assessment was correct, he would fill her absolutely to the brim. The thought intimidated her as much as it excited her.

Leaning down next to her ear, he asked, “Do you understand why I need to lead this?” His grip tightened ever so slightly, “I need to make sure you’re ready.”

He pushed her hand away, resting his weight on one arm so that he could open her back up to his touch. Carefully, Horacio slipped two, then three, fingers inside her, spreading them to stretch her folds open. She groaned at the feeling, eyes closing. The gentle exploration quickly grew in intensity, his thumb giving a firm stroke to her clit with every thrust. Eva writhed in the sheets, unable to stay still. The feeling built upon itself, spiraling up and out of her. It was harder than the first, deeper in a way that had her gritting her teeth.

Sweat had pooled over her chest and hips, her heart hammering in her throat. She felt too wound up and boneless at the same time. His fingers slipped from her sopping folds as he shifted to the side. He placed little kisses over her skin, eyes looking over her body with something akin to pride.

“Good?”

She nodded, not quite able to speak, lips dry. As she gained some feeling back into her body, Eva rolled a little and hooked the fingers of one hand into his pants, tugging at them. He took her meaning and slipped them off leaving him in boxer briefs that were damp with precum. She kissed his chest, tracing the pad of her thumb over the crown of him. He only let her touch him for a short time, the muscles of his body tight with restraint. When she wriggled her hand inside to get at skin, he stopped her.

Holding both wrists down beside her head, Horacio rolled atop her, settling his hips between her thighs. Eva wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him sink as deep as possible to the cradle of her hips, a welcome weight.

He kissed her briefly, “Condom?”

Eva nodded, pointing to the nightstand. He was all perfunctory movements as he opened the drawer, pulled out the condom, shoved off the last of his clothing, and rolled it on. She was glad for it as it gave her an excellent view of him fully naked for the first time.

Wanting to touch him, she sat up and brushed her hands over his strong thighs, filing away the image of sitting atop them for later. He cupped the back of her neck, kissing her as he urged her to lay back, his body covering her.

“Slow,” he said between kisses, “We go slow.”

Eva was absolutely on board for that, still feeling a little timidity about the size of him. She hadn’t been with anyone since coming to her new assignment, so she knew she’d need a little time to adjust. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, Eva forced her body to relax.

“Slow,” he reiterated as he lined himself up.

The first push made her rethink her choices that night, and she couldn’t keep from closing her eyes against the burn. Fuck, but she wanted it. She tucked her chin into the curve of his neck, breathing long, slow breaths.

Groaning, Horacio adjusted his weight and pushed a little deeper. Just when Eva thought she couldn’t stretch any further, there was more of him easing inside. Though she tried to stop it, a little sound escaped her throat.

He stopped, lifting just a bit to check her expression, and she could see him working to make a decision, strain behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out and rolled over to his back.

“C’mere.”

Though she was still a little shaky, Eva crawled over him, straddling his hips. He helped her tilt up and then back down again. Using her hands on his chest for balance, she tried to let gravity ease her down. Despite how wet she was, she could only take a few inches before she had to stop and focus on her breathing.

“I don’t think I can,” she admitted after a few shallow thrusts.

He rose and wrapped his arms around her, “You can, you can.”

When she faltered, he buried his nose in her hair, cradling most of her weight and taking the motion from her. Up and down. Nice and easy. Just a little more every time. With every stroke, the burn eased just a little, until she was giving him tiny rolls of her hips, until tingles of sensation overcame the stretch of her body. Needing to, she kissed him, sighing into his mouth when she sank down so smoothly that the little gains that they had been making suddenly became one generous thrust.

Eva gasped, hips swiveling.

His eyes widened as he looked down at where they were joined, “Good?”

She nodded, “I’m good. So good.”

Another rise and fall, and she was gripping the back of his neck, widening her stance to take him all the way to the base where she ground down hard. He hissed, arms tightening so that there was not an inch of space between them. It stunted her movements, and Eva found herself wanting desperately to keep the steady rise of pleasure.

Small, but growing whimpers sounded from her lips, her body’s movements liquid and burning. She wanted more, and she wanted it now. Horacio’s hold on her kept the pace maddeningly slow, but so goddamn steady that it anchored her to him.

“I’m so full,” she bit out, her head dropping to his shoulder in near defeat, “You fill me up.”

Below her, he let out a harsh breath, followed by a sharp inhale and long, agonized groan. His hips pushed up hard, just once grinding into her before beginning that steady pace again, if only a little faster. She was glad he had some control because her mouth had started up and there was no hope that she was going to be able to stop it at this point.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” she said on an exhale, her voice cracking.

He kissed her hard, bracing one hand against the mattress, to get more leverage, hips arching off the bed. The release of his hold gave Eva all she needed to begin meeting him in the middle. With a low whine, she angled her hips and drove down on him, her jaw loosening when he hit every spot inside her that made her squirm.

His forehead pressed against her, nose pressed into her cheek, Horacio swallowed audibly, saying, “Mmph—fuck, slow. Eva, slow.”

The words seemed forced out of him, his voice hoarse. Eva kept going, pulling away to get a good look at his face. His brows were drawn together, mouth open and wet, sweat on his temples. He looked...fucking wrecked. She could see in that moment how hard he was trying not to come, and it made a shot of determination zing through her. He could have made that directive an order, could have asserted himself as the alpha, but he hadn’t. This gave her an opening that she was all too eager to take.

Kissing him, she pushed at his shoulders, following him down and slowing the drive of her hips. She gave him sweet, lazy kisses until the tension in his body lessened enough that she felt confident he believed that she was listening to him. Then, she sat up, and called on the last remaining vestiges of her energy.

She started with slow undulations that ended with that little grind that he favored. But, Eva was not a patient woman, and she was soon riding him as she had been before. His hands flew to her hips, but he didn’t stop her. Just the opposite. He pulled her down to meet him, head thrown back to expose the strong column of his neck—a staccato ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounding each time their hips met.

Impossibly, he hardened further, until his grasp tightened to bruising and she felt him pulse inside her. He groaned in the back of his throat, eyes shut. Eva smiled down at him, thinking that he was gorgeous even when he was coming, especially when he was coming.

After a few more shallow thrusts, she eased off him and to the side, watching him catch his breath as hers returned to normal. Reaching down, he slipped off the condom, tying it off and leaning over the bed to toss it in a waste basket she kept nearby.

Eva didn’t touch him when he laid back down, though she wanted to. She wanted to lay her head on his chest and hear his heartbeat, curl up next to him while they dozed. A much stronger part of her kept her hands to herself, not knowing what he wanted.

Horacio leaned his weight on an elbow reached out to tucked her sweaty hair from her face. Charmed by the gesture, she turned and kissed his palm, holding it to her briefly before letting go. He shuffled closer, gathering her to his body, the backs of his fingers tracing one long line down the length of her.

On the upstroke, he slid them between her legs, brushing against her, “Are you hurt? Sore?”

She mentally reached out to her body, feeling for injury, “No, but I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning.”

After a few moments of silence, Horacio helped her stand and took her to the bathroom where he turned on the hot water. They showered a little awkwardly, the space too small for both of them. His hands never really left her, though, lingering over her body in a way that spiked a surprising return of her arousal. He laid kisses all over as he dried her off, haphazardly running the towel over his hair and body before tossing it aside.

When he laid her back down in the bed, he kept her near. Naked, warm, and clean, they laid together, talking about nothing at all. And, all the while, he would lean down and press a kiss here, a lick there, just skirting the edge of what she might consider seduction. And yet, her body began to respond as if he’d just started touching her. The fog of her exhaustion gave her a temporary reprieve, lifting just enough that she felt her thighs clench together—or, they would have, if he hadn’t kept his hand right where it was.

Pushing her to her back, Horacio shifted his arm beneath her neck, the other laying across her body, fingers running up and down her slit, circling at the top.

“You took me so well, Eva. I knew you could,” he murmured in her ear. “Made me come before I was ready.”

He alternated between focusing on her clit and rubbing sensuously over her opening. The touch was light, but focused enough that soon enough her hips were tilting up, searching for more stimulation.

“Are you going to come for me again?” He asked, heat lacing every word, “I think you’ve got another in you.”

Unbelievably, it appeared that she did, in fact, have another in her. Though he hadn’t penetrated her, Eva felt the orgasm build and pulse through her. Thighs jerking, she gasped against his mouth as he worked her through it.

With a low hum, Horacio slowed his touch, kissing down her jaw to her neck where he nuzzled against her. Though she’d been granted a short respite, Eva felt the need for sleep come crashing in. Eyes drooping, she shifted to her side and curled into his body. She fell asleep to the feeling of him lazily tracing the contours of her shoulders and back.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas

And you’re getting a special gift! :) I give you one chapter of a work that I will probably not presume, it’s the abandoned “A past and future secret.” You can find the chapter below the cut. Beware: NSFW, explicit. And now have a good time.

Everything had a political dimension, at least for Emhyr, especially when it came to public events that he had to attend. The wedding had not been long ago, and appropriate to its status, it had taken place in Nilfgaard. At best, however, he had postponed the north's planned expansion, which is why Emhyr soon returned to Vizima after the festivities. There were also obligations at the court there that were directly related to his marriage. Of course, Geralt had subtly noted that celebrations did not necessarily have a political influence, but even he knew better. He suspected, not without reason that Emhyr simply liked all the effort. While he often emphasized that his status - and the current military power - alone should be enough to keep his subordinates in line, he knew well enough it wasn't. There were occasions when politics required an open display of pomp and ostentation, and there were also occasions when the court allowed itself to be appeased by festivities. And even the people appreciated this, for a prudent ruler ensured that an event such as a wedding provided certain privileges - a reduction in taxes, an extra bushel of grain in the silo, and the like.

In this case, it might have been particularly necessary to influence the nobility and the people equally, because not only was the power structure in the north still fragile, but the usual beautiful princess was also missing, with whom many a decision was easier to sell. For this, Emhyr could not bring political motives into play. Nor did he succumb to the illusion, if he would have cared, that his marriage to a witcher would somehow benefit the profession's reputation. Nevertheless, he had taken the risk even though his own reputation might suffer, or people might think he had fallen into madness. Love was rarely a motive that lasted in the long term in the political arena.

Tonight's ball was an attempt to smooth things over, and he knew that it would be successful, at least with some of those present. A kind of post-wedding celebration, if you like, exclusively for the representatives of northern kingdoms. The ball was the highlight of several days of celebration, which could only be a copy of the Nilfgaard festivities, but hopefully without scandals. That the original wedding date had been overshadowed by a perfidious assassination attempt had fueled the rumor mill. They had finally caught up with the matter a few weeks later without any further problems, but of course, the same kind of thing stuck in people's minds.

Geralt was usually not interested in such considerations, even though he knew that he could hardly ignore them now. Only little by little did he realize that in this case he was actually taking the place of the expected princess - with all the consequences. And they were often of a representative nature. Even the one or other dance could not be excluded - and surprisingly, he was not a bad dancer. Emhyr was leading, of course. This was always the only unaccustomed thing, although Geralt had no difficulty in letting him take the lead in other areas. In fact, he even liked it. There was only one thing where he always insisted on getting the upper hand, which was when it came to Emhyr's safety.

"They all think you married your bodyguard," mumbled Geralt as they led the first dance of the evening in the heated room. As far as Geralt was concerned, the only dance, but there was probably not the last word about that.

"Did I not?" Emhyr returned quietly. One hand on Geralt's back, he held with the other Geralt's hand, and perhaps they danced a touch closer than it seemed appropriate. This was not particularly scandalous for newlyweds, yet an unexpected display of emotion on the Emperor's side. In the end, however, one of the few he could afford.

Geralt snorted.

"What makes you think so?" asked Emhyr as the music swelled to indicate that the dance floor was now open to the rest of the audience. Now they could speak more freely.

"Look at them," Geralt replied. "It's just like in Cidaris."

Emhyr knew exactly what he was alluding to. Back then, however, they had only pretended to be married - it must seem all the more ridiculous to anyone who had been at the court of Cidaris then, given the enormity of the actual wedding.

"If I remember correctly, you said at the time that I could put you in these clothes, but one would still recognize that you had the witcher in you," said Emhyr, not without a slight twitch of the corners of his mouth. "Would you really mind if people thought I married you for that reason? "

"Hardly," Geralt admitted. "But who knows, maybe that was the real reason?"

Emhyr hummed.

"Maybe," he replied and pulled Geralt a little closer.

Even if it was one of those evenings that seemed endless to Geralt, at some point, the moment came when they could withdraw. Emhyr seemed willing to continue the only dance he had been given that night once they had arrived in his - well, now probably their - rooms. The door had barely closed behind them when Emhyr took advantage of the fact that he was still holding Geralt's hand: in one quick movement, he pulled him closer and pushed him against the wall. Contrary to his habits, Emhyr had drunk more than usual - Geralt clearly tasted it in the following kiss. It was only one of the reasons for Emhyr's impetuousness, with which his tongue performed a very different dance in Geralt's mouth. The fact that this was a way he got rid of his permanent tension, which one usually could not recognize, was nothing new for Geralt. And marriage - basically their whole relationship, if he thought about it - was still new, for them both. Still exciting. He wrapped his arms around Emhyr; his right hand slid up to his neck as if to pull him even closer. Emhyr pressed a knee between his legs, pushing himself tightly against Geralt. His hands gripped Geralt's face in an unusually tender gesture, reserved for the most intimate moments, something he would never show in public. His kiss, however, spoke a different language, reflecting the passion of which the bulge in his trousers expressed exact words.

As their now slightly swollen lips parted, Emhyr murmured at his ear, "Husband," knowing full well that Geralt still felt a thrilling shiver down his spine hearing this.

"If you wanted to seduce me, fine, you succeeded," Geralt murmured as he tried to win back Emhyr's lips.

"I guess it's not very difficult," his husband returned, and the little smile was unmistakable. It reached his eyes, which were dark with desire at the same time.

A quick grip confirmed the obvious: all this had been enough to make Geralt completely hard as well. The unexpected movement produced one of Geralt's little noises that Emhyr loved so much. And he knew how to get more. His mouth wandered to Geralt's throat, and purposefully found the one spot where his tongue made a deep sound elicit from Geralt's throat. With one hand, he reached up and loosened the ribbon from Geralt's hair so that it fell on his shoulders.

The loose hair gave Geralt a wild appearance. This hair seemed merely impossible to tame, just as the one to which it belonged could never be fully tamed. Nevertheless, Emhyr knew ways to wake up or contain the wolf if he wanted to. What he wanted now soon became apparent when he started to free Geralt from his pants with extremely dexterous fingers.

"Gee, you're impatient, but let's at least find a more comfortable place...", Geralt murmured between the never-ending kisses with which Emhyr covered his mouth and neck. "I'm sure that's not necessary," Emhyr returned as his mouth reached the shoulders. It was not just a touch too much alcohol that made him talk like that, not even his usual impatience. Not only, at least. What had built up in him today obviously demanded a particular outlet.

But how particular, Geralt only realized when Emhyr suddenly slid deeper until he knelt before him. This was as much a surprise as his mouth, which only a heartbeat later took up his member without prior warning. Geralt gasped. Involuntarily, a hand wandered into Emhyr's hair, although he knew that he didn't like it - but now, he didn't complain. The other hand reached for the wall behind him as if he wanted to hold on to it. And somehow, he really wanted to. It was a rare opportunity, and since Emhyr did not comment further, Geralt decided not to do so either. He just enjoyed the moment. After all, the most important ruler of the entire continent knelt before him, and he worked his cock so skilfully that he almost became dizzy. It was a shame that he showed this talent so rare, although he was always extremely skilled with his tongue.

The warmth in the room, the fact that he, too, had needed plenty of wine to get through the evening, in combination with the feelings Emhyr just caused in him by moving his tongue agonizingly slowly over his shaft... Geralt felt his legs literally become soft. A sound escaped his throat, which Emhyr did not miss. He looked up at him for a moment, and the sight brought Geralt so close to fulfillment that he sucked the air in sharply. The hand that had just been clawed into Emhyr's hair slapped audibly against the wall to find support. Emhyr also made a sound now, quite clearly a small, half-suppressed laugh. For a brief, almost painful moment, his mouth moved away from his delightful task. Still looking at Geralt, now almost provocatively - no, for sure - he put two fingers in his mouth to moisten them. With the other hand, he pushed Geralt's legs a bit further apart. In no time, the tongue was back, now much further, but he was still just playing with him.

He only teased him, his tongue playing with the wet, shiny tip of his cock at one moment, then again he licked along the shaft; only to finally take it all the way back into his mouth, which made Geralt gasp sharply. Then a hand reached back, pushing Geralt a little bit away from the wall, and the fingers looked for a way into his insides. It was almost too much, although not much had happened yet, but the prospect alone seemed to be enough. Emhyr knew that, but the soft whimpering that Geralt emitted as the first finger slowly made its way was additional proof. The smacking sound his mouth made when he pulled back did the rest. Now his other hand firmly grasped Geralt's balls, and he looked up at him and muttered, "Behave yourself, husband."

Geralt groaned.

"Me? You want me to behave?"

He made an attempt to spread his legs a little more, but Emhyr had pinned him down with his mouth again.

"If you carry on like this," Geralt gasped, "I certainly can't behave."

Then a little "Oh" escaped him, followed by a barely perceptible curse as the second finger followed the first, and both picked up a rhythm that was in harmony with Emhyr's mouth.

Finally, Emhyr let him go, everywhere, and the feeling of disappointment was almost palpable. Emhyr stood up, pushed him back against the wall, and whispered in his ear, "We really should find a more comfortable place - although I wouldn't mind having you right here and..."

There was a knock at the door.

#writing #fanfiction #Emhyr x Geralt #Geralt x Emhyr #Emralt #Emhyralt #unfinished wip #Emhyr/Geralt

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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

I’m both

Genre: One-shot | Smut Pairing: Taeyong x Fem Reader Warnings: Spanking, light bondage, unprotected Word count: 3.8K Summary: Taeyong gets invited to your family’s New Year party. Described as a sweet, caring and shy person, you underestimate him big time

Note: this was so hARD to write, these days I’m out of fuel (I respect the literate community but it ain’t me), I also went through multiple mental breakdowns lol :) so I hope it’s any good (roast me in the tags, send me a diss, fight me in a parking lot)

MASTERLIST TO-DO LIST

“He’s the kindest young man I’ve ever met; every parent would want a child like him,” said your mother while finishing to set the table. You hummed as to indicate that you were listening but weren’t that interested. Your hands were busy folding red and gold napkins for the New Year Eve party your family was hosting.

Every year your family would host a small party with all the extended family, neighbours and friends. That year you’ve been more busy than usual (mostly mentally) since your mother thought that it would be wonderful to invite over the couple that she and your father met during the summer break while being on a vacation. They are wonderful people, she’s been saying for months now, and it would be a shame to not maintain the friendship, she added. Moreover, their son was being described as this Perfect Son TM, responsible, kind, smart, funny, thoughtful and incredibly good-looking. You sighed. You weren’t a perfect daughter, but you’ve never made your parents sad or angry. People have always complimented you on what a good child you were, and the appearance of this new Good Child made you anxious and jealous. “Did I tell you he’s absolutely gorgeous?” asked your mother as she finished to place the last decorations and was admiring them with hands on the hips. You took in a deep breath trying to not roll your eyes. “Yes, mom. He’s the best-looking man you’ve ever seen in your whole life” you replied. She looked over at you while frowning a bit. “Oh, come on, Y/N. There’s no reason to feel all this dread. I’m not setting you up with him. I just think it would be nice for you to become friends” she said. As she has said in other countless situations. Every situation in which your mom tried to “befriend you with this great boy” revealed itself to be a big failure. You shrugged. “I’m not feeling any dread, mom. It’s just not necessary for me to be all that excited to meet a guy. It’s just whatever”. Oh, and you were so wrong. It was not whatever at all. Most invitees were already scattered around the house when the doorbell rang for the millionth time that evening. You were the butler for the night, so you put on your best (fake) smile to greet the new guests, again. But it soon disappeared from your face as you saw your parents’ new friends. You weren’t expecting any of it. You didn’t know what to do. First of all, he (HE) didn’t look as you were anticipating. Like, at all. Is this the good boy people were talking about? Looking like that? You tried to look over at your mom, as the family entered the house one by one greeting you, as to telepathically tell her that “Mom! He has bright red hair and 20 piercings!” but she didn’t see you. “Mom! He has a split eyebrow!” you yelled in your own head as you shook his hand. But as he looked at you, with round and innocent eyes, and smiled while saying his name, Taeyong, you got confused. He was wearing a black, velvet suit and shiny shoes. His cheeks were a little bit red, maybe from the cold, maybe from being timid, and you relaxed a bit. As he turned around and kissed your mom on the cheeks, you saw him as your mother described him, sweet and cute as a child. You closed the door behind you and followed them, quite dizzy. Grabbing a drink, as they did, you tried to not stare. He didn’t look at all like you imagined. Not that he looked bad. He looked absolutely ethereal. For once, your mom wasn’t messing around and was right. He was definitely the best-looking man you’ve ever seen in your whole life. But his looks and his personality didn’t match at all. You found that rather charming and you acknowledged that you were intrigued. Taeyong’s voice was deep and pleasant and he and his parents showered you all with compliments on the food, the decorations and thanked for the invitation. They have never visited your city and were pleasantly surprised by how pretty it was. “Our Y/N, did most of the house decorations by herself,” said your grandfather, making you jerk your head into his direction. You were probably staring at Taeyong. “You mean, handmade them?” asked him, impressed, by looking at your grans first, then at you. Your family proudly said that yes, you handmade most of them and you opened your mouth as to say something as well but didn’t know what to add. “They are very good. You might as well sell them” commented Taeyong’s dad. You smiled at the compliment and thanked him. The conversation then moved around the room leaving you alone. You walked around hoping that Taeyong would come to talk to you, but he didn’t. You could see that he was glancing often in your direction and you understood that he was too shy to approach you first. At a certain point during the evening, you managed to move finally near him, as you both were munching on food by the buffet and looking awkwardly at the older people making a fool out of themselves. Taeyong was rather endearing. His looks were so intense that you’ve gotten shy as well at first, but his awkwardness gave you a little more confidence to approach him and you started to ask questions. He answered them all and politely asked you some as well. The music was so loud that you had to almost scream into each other’s ears and being so near him made you quite excited. It was probably the champagne talking but you were really bored and Taeyong was so cute that you wanted to have some fun. It was embarrassing and probably rude to assume (even if only in your head), but Taeyong didn’t look like someone who would have had a lot of experience. In fact, he was probably a virgin. “I can show you if you want to,” you said to him as he wondered how the process of crafting decorations went. He looked at you, a little bit taken aback, but then he agreed and followed you upstairs, to your room. You entered chatting away but then stopped as Taeyong went suddenly quiet. Looking behind your shoulder, you could not help yourself but giggle a little as you saw him hesitant to enter. “What’s wrong?” you asked. He was looking around your room with his hands in his pockets, trying to give off a nonchalant look. “Why?” he asked, after finally entering with a deep breath and looking immediately at your shelves, trying to hide his face. You smiled. “No, nothing,” you said in the end. He was really busy making himself concentrate on the objects in your room so he wouldn’t have to look at you. You ended up having to talk to his very attractive backline. You looked at his hair first, then slowly at his neck, his broad shoulders and his long legs. You were about to say something flirty to go on with your plan when he talked before you could. “Like what you see?” he asked. His voice was suddenly low and deep. You winced. He was looking at you through the mirror at his right. You couldn’t believe that he caught you checking him out. How dumb could you be? You were about to laugh it off, sure that he was feeling as embarrassed as you were, but then you noticed his eyes. Those weren’t his usual eyes. The corner of his lips was lifted slightly as to imitate his raised eyebrow. Instead of looking like a deer, he was more like a predator. You gulped. He turned around. “What’s wrong?” he asked, almost lazily, just like you’ve asked just moments before that. He was very confident, almost cocky. He was another person. There was another person in front of you. Relaxed, with hands in his pockets, he tilted his head to the side, observing you. “Your vibe is totally different” you managed to say, hoping that it didn’t sound stupid. He laughed at your comment and for a split second, you could see the shy person that you’ve talked to the whole evening, before being totally overshadowed by this person that you’ve never seen before. “What do you mean? You look a little bit scared. Am I scary?” he asked. “No, not at all. You’re not scary, you’re just different all of a sudden” you tried to explain. “You’re… sexy” you added, hoping it didn’t sound weird. You thought that Taeyong would laugh and blush because you were definitely blushing and didn’t want to feel alone. He was playing. You were sure he was putting on an act to mess with you, just like you were trying to mess with him. He didn’t blush though, nor did he laugh. Or, better, he smirked, yes, he was amused, he liked the compliment a lot, but it didn’t embarrass him. You could see that. As if he knew already. You felt your heart shaking. You didn’t want to admit to yourself before, but Taeyong had such a powerful aura mixed with that soft personality of his, that it gave you confidence. You liked it when he was hesitant and shy to enter your room and you felt superior. You had no idea he had that other side to him, and you weren’t sure about your confidence anymore. “You’ve been checking me out all night. It’s flattering, coming from you” he complimented you as well. “Do you want to see how I did the decorations?” you blurted out, before realizing how stupid your change of subject was. You walked past him like wind and opened your crafting kit. He accepted the change in dialogue and didn’t add anything, he just got closer. Hoovering a bit over you he tried to look at what you were holding. “It’s actually very easy, you just have to…” you started to explain but froze as his fingers lightly brushed against your arm and shoulders. “Your dress strap fell” he explained in a low voice. His fingers were slightly colder than your body and you got goosebumps all over your skin. You forgot what you were about to say. “You just have to…?” Taeyong asked, seeing you silent. “Uhm…” you hummed uncertainly. Taeyong’s breath tickled your ear as he chuckled. “Am I making you nervous, Y/N?” he asked in vain, as you both knew the answer to that. “It’s funny how you brought me up here, hoping to make me feel nervous when in reality you’re the nervous one” he commented. You shut your eyes for a brief second trying to swallow the embarrassment of being found out. “What are you talking…” you tried to ask but couldn’t continue as he spoke over you, accompanying his voice with his hand on the small of your back. “What did you want to do to me?” he asked. You took in a deep breath. The same hand that fixed your dress strap just moments before, was the same that delicately made it fall again. Your goosebumps were back, and you shivered even more than before. Taeyong smiled. “You’re very sensitive” he commented, appreciative. “I’m curious to see how your body will react when I do this” he added as he placed the softest kiss to your exposed shoulder. You looked over it to watch him. One strand of hair fell out of his styled fringe covering his eyes that he promptly directed on yours. His gaze was dark but amused at your reaction. His plump lips hoovered over your skin for a little after kissing it. Your own lips were partially open when he quickly shortened the distance between your faces and even if you were expecting it, it still took you by surprise. It was a hot kiss, nothing to do with awkwardness and inexperience. His hands, placed on the small of your waist, slowly caressed your back up until reaching the top of your dress zip. You broke off the kiss to breathe at the same time as your dress started to fall gently off your body. The room was heated but you suddenly felt cold and tried to stop yourself from shivering. It was impossible though, as Taeyong’s fingertips were drawing intricated figures on your skin. You held firmly onto the edge of the desk in front of you, arching your back under his touch and closing your eyes. His hands didn’t stop for a second, endlessly feeling you, trying to find the spots that most make you jolt, before settling to your ass and grabbing it hard. You let out a low mm. “Do you like it rough?” he asked. His voice was low and amused. You looked over your shoulder again with a quickened breath. “Yes,” you replied. His pupils shook slightly at your honesty. Then he spanked you once. Hard. Then once again. The whine that escaped your mouth was louder than you intended so you quickly bit your lower lip. Your bra suddenly got replaced by his hands as he pressed you harshly against his body, pulling you close. You let your head fall on his shoulder as Taeyong hungrily pressed his face into your neck, kissing and biting every centimetre. His hands were restlessly squeezing your breasts and pinching your hard nipples. You could feel him pulsing against your ass, so you let your hand fall behind you and stroked him with your palm. He indulged a few seconds into the sensation before grabbing your hand by the wrist, turning you around and pushing you on the bed. You gasped surprised as you landed on the mattress, not expecting it, then propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Taeyong was at the end of the bed, smirking and taking off his jacket before delicately putting it on the chair behind him. Turning to face you again, he slowly opened his wrist buttons, almost if putting on a show for you to watch, and as slowly he rolled one sleeve first then the second, exposing his strong forearms. It was nothing, but it drove you insane as if he suddenly stripped of every piece of clothing he was wearing. Again, as slowly as before, he unbuckled his belt, but as he did with the shirt, he wasn’t intending of taking off his pants. With a fluid movement, he straddled over your legs and slowly made his way up to reach your arms. Your back hit the bed as he took your hands into his. He pressed his lips onto your wrists giving them sweet kissed before tying them up with his belt. You jolted a bit and hissed through your teeth as the rough material bruised your skin. He then proceeded to place them over your head delicately and hoovering over you he got as close as to whisper: “Don’t move”. Your chest was rising and falling quickly. You were a little afraid but so very excited by the unknown. “What are you going to do?” you asked. Taeyong didn’t reply and instead got back on his feet, admiring his work pleased. His eyes traced the line of your body, every curve, before stopping at your closed legs. He clicked his tongue as if disapproving. “Open up for me, love, would you?” he commanded. You breathed in, deeply, before slowly opening your thighs, completely exposed in front of him. He licked his lips at the view. His gaze was so strong that you were feeling as if he was already touching you. And after a whole minute of moving and fidgeting you were wondering why he wasn’t touching you already. “What’s wrong, babe?” he smiled, almost innocently. A wolf wearing a sheep mask. He was laughing at how needy you were. You puffed irritated but also amused. You had no idea how you ended up in that situation. Taeyong was supposed to lay almost naked under you while you teased him to death, definitely not the other way around. How the tables have turned. “Don’t be a coward and touch me” you finally spoke. Taeyong raised his eyebrows while pointing at his face. “Me? A coward?” he asked. You raised your chin provokingly. “Mama’s boy is afraid of some pussy? Is this the first one you see?” you teased him. He scoffed, incredulous and with a quick movement he teared up your frail, lace panties. You opened your mouth as to breath in but instead, a loud moan came out of it as he buried his face into you. He didn’t bother to get down on you and preferred to lift you up by your waist to meet his hungry tongue. You threw your head deeper into the pillows and closed your eyes. Your toes were curling at every millimetre of skin Taeyong tasted, rough and fervent. Oh fuck, you whined. Taeyong’s tongue drew quick and wet circles around your clit, then between your folds and deeper inside you, then out, then sucking hard, alternating kitty licking and hard tasting. His head then raised up from you and he let go of you. Your back hit the mattress with a muffled sound. You were out of breath and your wrists hurt badly as you tugged at the belt trying to lunge for the blanket underneath you. But Taeyong didn’t let you rest. He grabbed your legs hard and raised them up. Your thighs were touching your stomach as he roughly caressed them with his palms before directing them underneath you to hold onto you. He quickly made his way between your lips again, this time slower, sliding his tongue across your core a few times then adding his fingers to the action, rubbing onto your clit as his tongue proceeded to make you flinch every second. Your moans intensified as he switched and finally slipped them inside of you while his mouth erotically worked you up. “You’re driving me crazy with those whimpers of yours,” he said with a deep voice while following with the tongue the outline of your pussy. You moaned violently again as he arched his fingers inside of you, his mouth full of you. That sweet torture didn’t have to last long. With a last rub, the burning sensation spread across your whole body, through your blood, up to your head, leaving you all shaking and panting. With not a single ounce of force in your limbs, you looked at how your legs slid around Taeyong’s body until reaching the mattress. And that’s when you saw his smiling while smacking his lips like after a delicious meal. His eyes told you that it wasn’t over. You whined as he grabbed you by the waist and quickly turned you around. Your face was pressed against the pillows, your arms still stretched painfully over your head, your chest squished under you, your legs parted and your ass up. Taeyong hummed pleased rubbing his hand all over your buttocks, thighs and lower back. “Taeyong… I can’t take it anymore” you managed to say. He looked at you with furrowed brows as if concerned. “Oh no, what do we do?” he asked playfully. “I shall go then” he added trying to get up from the bed. “No” you stopped him. “No” you added more softly. “Please, just untie my hands” you asked. He thought about it for a second as he probably felt sorry for you. He got closer and tugged at your wrists. You rested on your side while he untied the belt looking at his face. His lips were red and swollen as he passed the tip of his tongue wetting them. You didn’t wait any longer. As your hands were free you pushed him down into the mattress and straddled him to keep him down. The surprised look on his face delighted you and made you laugh. “You’re finally mine” you whispered as you started to dry hump him on top of his pants. He looked up at you trying to talk back but the words got stuck into his throat at the sensation. He closed his eyes and started to breathe heavily. The fabric rubbing your already raw clit drove you insane and you didn’t have any force in your arms anymore. After a few seconds, you let yourself rest on his chest. Taeyong, getting a hold of himself, unbuttoned his pants, finally releasing his throbbing cock and directing it towards your core. You buried your face into his shoulder with a moan as it easily slid into you filling you up and stretching you good. He didn’t wait a single moment and wrapping his arms around your body he started to thrust hard. You let out a cry and between groans he hushed you, incessantly caressing your ass and back and pushing you against his hard body. Your nipples were rubbing up and down his shirt and you were feeling oversensitive, a whole mess. Taeyong let go of your waist and sliding his hands up he wrapped them up around your neck then on your cheeks. A few strands of his hair were stuck on his sweaty forehead as he was pounding deep into you. You supported yourself up as much as you could by placing your arms around his head making it easy for him to reach your breast. He didn’t miss the hint and started to suck on them while letting out husky moans. Eager to add to the pleasure you started to lightly tense the muscles around his cock making him swear. Out of control he threw his head on the pillows and grabbed ass hard, spanking it, leaving red marks. All your nerves were awake and burning. As you broke down, trembling from head to toe on top of him, he didn’t stop, quick and hungry until you felt his warm cum fill you up. Both panting, you slid off him slowly and rested on your back with not an ounce of force. Taeyong’s chest continued to rapidly rise and fall until finally settling down to a normal pace. He then zipped his pants and got up from the bed. You looked over at him as he walked towards the mirror and checking himself up, he tried his best to style up his hair like before. He then looked at you, still a mess, as he unrolled his sleeves and buttoned them up. His gaze was relaxed and his smile tired, almost shy. With a fluid movement he wore his jacket back and walking towards the bed, he hovered over you and surprisingly kissed your lips softly. Trying to get up again, you stopped him by lightly tugging at his collar. “Which one are you really?” you asked in a whisper. He looked at you sweetly. His cheeks were rosy from fatigue and you wondered, maybe slight embarrass. “I’m both” he replied with a smile before leaving.

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loukja · 4 years

Text

If he came back - Vexx/Reader

What if you had not tried to run, but Vexx came back for you at the day of the wedding?

The light in the hidden hallway was dim, but the music still reached your ears, reminding you of the last time you had been dancing all dressed up in fancy clothes. Back then you had also ended up hiding in this hallway, but you had not been alone. Vexx had been there with you, pressed close, his breath on your face.

Don’t think about it, you told yourself firmly. Instead you wondered how long you could stay here until someone – probably your new guard – would start to miss you. No one really needed you there, though. Nerissa was always engaged in some serious talk with important people and the rest of your siblings did their best to ignore you. Oh, damn it, damn not thinking about him, you really missed Vexx terribly and everything would be so much better if…

“Your Highness!”

You snapped to attention and stared disbelievingly at the tall figure who was rushing toward you. It couldn’t be. This was just your imagination, fuelled by longing and running wild. He could not really be here.

“What the bloody hell are you doing back here? I thought I’d never find you!”

But he was. You were still just staring at him, mouth agape, as he grabbed your shoulders, looking you up and down.

“Are you alright, highness?”

“I… yes?” you, too, looked him over. He wasn’t in his plain guard’s uniform, but in street clothes and he was carrying a rifle slung over his shoulder. His gaze held none of the warmness or mischief you were used to seeing in it, instead it was wild and worried.

“What are you doing here?” your voice sounded strange in your ears, hollow, as you lay a hand on his arm, as if to convince yourself that he was real. “Where have you been?”

“There’s no time to explain. Just trust me, alright? We have to leave. Now!” He grabbed your arm and started pulling you down the hall, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin.

Before he had left you behind, you would have followed him anywhere without question. Even now you were halfway down the hall before you started to try and pull free of his grip. “What the hell is going on, Vexx?”

“Shush,” he did not even look back at you.

He stopped at the door at the end of the hallway, tense, straining to hear what was going on behind it. His grip was still vicelike around your arm. “Come on,” he pushed open the door and then you were running. There were shouts somewhere behind you, the pounding of feet. The music was distant by now, overshadowed by the other noises. Overshadowed even by the wild beating of your own heart. Vexx pulled you into another hidden passage, this one leading outside of the palace. You had used it oh so often to sneak out into the city together. But today there was someone waiting in it. A man, not quite as tall as Vexx, but broader, his stance threatening.

“Serif?” he said, his eyes flitting from Vexx to you. “What are you doin back here? Who’s that?”

“Oh, just an old acquaintance. I thought it would be a shame if something happened to a pretty face like that, no?” Vexx’s tone, his whole stance, had changed. He seemed like a predator, his grin more like a snarl, and in that moment you just wanted to get away. From him, that strange man, the dark passage… Back to your miserable loneliness that felt, if nothing else, safe. But Vexx was pulling you forward with him, as if to let the other man have a better look at you and your ‘pretty face’.

“I dunno, man,” the guy said, frowning. “This is no shopping trip where you get to take someone home.”

Vexx did not answer, instead he unslung his rifle and hit the man square in the face with the butt of it in such a quick motion that your startled yelp only escaped when the stranger hit the floor.

You startled back when Vexx reached for you again, and a hurt look crossed his face.

“What the hell, Vexx? Who is that? What is he doing here?” your voice was shaking as you took a step back.

“Highness, please,” Vexx held out his hands in a soothing motion, as if he was approaching a spooked animal.

“No!” your gaze flickered over your shoulder when you thought you heard screams. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Vexx had come closer in your moment of distraction. “I will, I’ll explain everything once we’re safe. There is no time now.”

Desperation was laced thick in his voice and his breath left him when you cautiously laid your hand in his outstretched one. And then he was pulling you along again, his words still spiralling in your head.

“What do you mean, safe? Nerissa is back there! If it’s not safe we have to get her!”

“There is no time!”

No! There was no way in hell you’d abandon your sister if she was in danger.

“Please, Vexx, I can’t leave her,” you pleaded. “I don’t care if I’m safe, I need her to be!”

He whirled around, pushing you up against the wall. “Well, I care, and so would Nerissa. She’d kill me if I prioritized her over you. She has her own guard looking out for her, and you have me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get you to safety, even if it’s against your will!”

You could read in his eyes that there was no point in fighting him. Vexx had always been stronger than you and he looked so determined that he’d probably just knock you out and carry you if you did not come along willingly.

“Now move it,” he said in an almost soft voice, his hand squeezing yours. And then you were running again, your vision blurred by tears. Not long and you were out in the open, running down an all too familiar street.

And then there was an ear breaking crashing sound and the ground shook beneath your feet, making you trip. Everything got darker and for a moment you were sure that the sky was falling. You were hurled forward, your muscles screaming in protest. And then the sky hit, pressing the breath out of your lungs. For a moment everything went black.

“Highness!”

Vexx’s voice pulled you back. He was staring at you through the setting dust, his face oh so close. A weird vertigo took hold of you. Everything seemed to spin around you as you moved your head, and it took you a moment to realise that you were lying on the street.

Everything hurt. Something warm was trickling down your face. The street around you was strewn with debris. There was a groan beside you, pulling your gaze back to Vexx. He strained, trying to get up, his teeth gritted.

“It’s alright, highness,” he muttered, giving up his effort for a second, “I’ve got this.” He even managed the softest smile at you. “Just keep your eyes open, alright? Stay with me.”

You weren’t sure why he was saying this. Everything was so heavy. You wouldn’t go anywhere. Your eyes trailed down his body and lingered on the piece of concrete his legs were stuck under. That’s bad, you thought, in a somewhat detached way. Trying to breathe and struggling to, you realized that you were stuck as well. You watched Vexx struggle, pain clear on his face.

“Just keep breathing, highness,” he reached out to you, trailing his hand down your cheek. “We’ll get out of here. Just hang on,” a single tear trailed through the dust on his face.

“It’s…” your voice cracked, “…fi… fine.” Your vision was blurring again.

“Don’t. Safe your energy. I just have to,” he tried getting up on his elbows and did not bother to finish his sentence.

“I…” it sounded weird when you tried to breath in. You coughed. “I…” you started again. I love you. You came back for me and I missed you and I love you. You wanted to tell him, wanted him to know. It’s alright. You’re here and I’m alright.

Darkness crept into your vision. Your breath stalled.

“Highness? Look at me, please! Come on, stay with me!”

His panicked voice was the last thing you heard as you drifted away.

#andromeda six #andromeda 6 #andromeda six fanfiction #Vexx Serif #angst #fanfic #I'm sorry if it's not that good I'm not really used to writing xreader stuff

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missmeltycat · 3 years

Note

i see u have an oc for the real ghostbusters!!! i dunno if u already paired them or anything but can u do some pairing headcanons for each guy and janine maybe too??

Ohhh wow. OK. This is definitely an interesting challenge. Amusingly, waaaaay back when (We are talking a long time ago) she was paired with Egon, but I have made a number of changes since then and she’s not now.

OK, let’s do this! *Cracks knuckles*

Egon Spengler

Probably takes a LOT of time to actually get anywhere because... Well... It’s Egon!

Either happens as a moment of experimentation seeing if there’s anything between them worth pursuing or not, or part of an adrenaline rush moment.

GUILT. REGRET. “OH GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE! I’M NORMALLY SO LOGICAL!”

Sex? What’s that? Oh, that thing that only happens once in a blue moon?

Nights spent reading together. Egon tries to teach her things since she’s not a scientist like he is.

Kisses are quick and fleeting. Pecks and nips, rarely deeper unless adrenaline or hormones play a part.

Equipment experimentation made purely for Rae’s build and work method.

Love language of reminding the other to eat/drink/sleep. Cleaning of glasses. Maintaining fitness equipment.

Night’s out at the opera/theatre.

Dates at the museum. Egon explaining in great depth about everything.

Rae dragging him to the gym. He doesn’t enjoy it until she gets him to think about it from a scientific and biological standpoint. (He wears a sweatband.)

Yes. Problems with Janine. Oh boy.

Arguments are quick, never long-lasting. Usually a sudden explosion of irrational anger, followed by parting ways in different rooms and coming together with apologies laced with tremendous guilt.

Rae’s family are pretty pleased with Rae’s choice.

Pros:

Sweet and considerate pairing

Comfortable silences and just existing in each other’s spaces

Mutual respect

Maturity

Dependability

Cons:

Janine conflict

Occasional fights due to differences in interests and intellect

Late nights make for cranky people

Egon is all logic, Rae is all muscle - Technically opposites

Egon’s attitude could rub Rae the wrong way, as it can come off as slightly big-headed

Rae can be a bit rough. Egon not so much - Ouch!

Peter Venkman

Probably happens after a fight. Sudden!

Lots of angry, make up sex

Huge amount of flirting

Dates to fast food joints, pizza parlours and ice-cream shops. Possibly music venues

Fights over expenses. Let’s face it. If Peter can get out of paying, he will

Playful punch-u-punch-me matches that usually end up with Peter with bruised arms

“Goals? How many places we can do it in. The storage locker is next!”

Bets. Lots of bets. “Ten bucks says Ray can’t X.” “Ten bucks says Egon messes up.” “Ten bucks says Slimer eats X.” Occasionally “Ten bucks and I’ll eat X” and “Ten bucks says you can’t lift X, Rae!”

Gaming. Competitive gaming. Peter will sulk if he loses.

Evenings spent sleeping happily

Table hockey with utensils and condiments

Kisses are passionate, dirty, messy, lots of tongue

Love language? You mean making out lots? Yeah, that...

No shame in PDA, but not sentimental in nature. More like copping feels

No pressure. More like friends with benefits.

Arguments are usually about Peter’s flirting, or immaturity. They last a while and always end as if they never happened.

Rae is active, Peter prefers slobbing when he can. Rae tries to get him active, he tries to get her to chill more.

Creativity in the form of music. When people say they’ll make sweet music together? They were wrong in this case. Terrible music is more like it. But it’s all good fun.

Rae’s family are charmed by Peter. Wary, but charmed nonetheless.

Pros:

Fun and humour

Amazing physical encounters

No pressure or expectations

Passion

Creativity

Cons:

Immaturity

Overly flirtatious with others (Peter)

Lazy and active don’t mix all that well

Hot tempers

Trust issues

Ray Stantz

Known as ‘The Rays’

Lots of shy glances (Ray)

Self-confidence issues and inadequacy worries (Ray) because Rae works out and he’s... Ray

Anxious confessions

Sweetness, consideration, caring words and actions

Absolutely 100% serious. No room for messing about when it starts

Love language of soft touches, fingers over the hair, face cupping and cheek stroking... Oh and FOOD!

Nights spent on the sofa in blankets and PJs with popcorn

Sex? “Oh boy, are you sure? I mean, are you a hundred percent sure you wanna? I’m not hurting you am I? Am I squishing you too much? Sorry, was that right?”

Cook together a lot. Ray isn’t quite as good, so Rae (Who is knowledgeable on nutrition since she works out etc) often finishes off the dishes and lets him take credit

Dates could be anything. It doesn’t need to be fancy, as long as they’re together.

Kisses are sweet, tender, passionate without being over the top and usually combine with fingers in hair

Mutual respect and love/fascination of the paranormal, ghosts and creatures

Alternating big spoon, little spoon and always very comfortable

Fights? Not very often, but usually doesn’t last long and ends in flowers, chocolates and lots of snuggles

Soft neck kisses, breathless terms of endearment, wandering hands, confidence boosting body worship

Rae lifting Ray with one arm for training, resulting in gushing

Fawning, doodling, love-sick teen type behaviour

Comfortably discuss the future together without awkwardness

Rae’s family are surprised by Rae’s choice, but are absolutely happy with him

Pros:

Sweet and caring

Dependable and loyal

Kind to animals, ghosts and other such creatures

Willingness to always be better

Cons:

Self-confidence issues

Sometimes naive

Occasional know-it-all behaviour

Curiosity that almost kills the cat

Can’t cook so well and has questionable ingredient choices that border on imminent food poisoning danger (Ray)

Winston Zeddemore

Happens smoothly, gradually over time as the pair gain the bond naturally through companionship

Chill as fuck, but absolutely committed and serious

Love language of gifts and showing off in public

Dates at ball games and other sporting events, sometimes at sports bars showing various games

Clubs and music venues until extremely late

Workout buddies

Love to tease Peter together

Will chill out to horror movies together on the couch

Sex is passionate, but considerate, full of respect but occasionally borders on kinky. Sometimes in the shower. Did that door get locked? Oops!

Will discuss relationship stuff anywhere, no shame

Kisses are deep, long-lasting, skin-tinglingly good

Sports in the park on afternoons off

Will gladly spot Rae when she lifts weights

Games of catch with equipment and contests with how far or how high things can be thrown

Rae cooks his favourite meal every month just because

He will give her full body massage after her workouts

Arguments are strong, as they are both strong willed people. They last a little longer than they probably should, with lots of huffing and passing messages through other people. Making up, though, always the best part

Mutual enjoyment of harder music genres

Rae tries to encourage him to be more active in the group, as he’s sometimes overshadowed by the others

Always help each other out and share chores equally

Nudes exchanged. Absolutely

Rae’s family take to him quite quickly and are absolutely pleased

Pros:

Active

Mutual respect

Openly proud and shows off the other

Responsible

Loving and passionate

Open to new ideas

Cons:

Strong personalities, so sometimes clash

Sometimes shies away from challenges

Some PTSD issues (From the canonical military experience)

His passion for things sometimes trump other things, such as date nights or other promises

Janine Melnitz

This one was a random one and happened as a result of harmless flirting at the reception desk, probably as an assurance that Rae wasn’t after Egon, but it ended in something surprising for both

Bitching to each other about the guys a lot, a little club of two

Janine drags Rae shopping a lot, mostly to spend time together, but also because Rae can actually carry the shopping with no problem with her muscles

Dates at fancy restaurants and wine bars where Janine gets dressed up and Rae feels uncomfortable in a dress

Janine will offer to give her make overs, which always amuses the guys

Love language of comforting hugs, washing each others hair, giving each other shoulder massages, doing small things such as put incense on when the other is feeling stressed out and little notes left around for each other to find

Mail order flowers

Both of their apartments become used equally as bases and it’s never known which they will be at at any given point

Arguments are loud and sometimes vicious in nature, which prompts the guys to demand they make up. Usually ends with crying and hugging and huge apologies

Nights binging series or movies with pizza, ice-cream and soda

Will both kick Peter’s ass if he’s not careful

Intimacy is usually sweet and loving, but with a spark of passion. And, yes, absolutely open to others to join... By others Janine means Egon

Kisses are sudden and big smooches, or quick pecks on the fly

Janine will phone to make sure Rae is OK when out on assignment, sometimes becoming a nuisance. She will also threaten everyone to look after her, or she’ll kick the crap out of them

Rae’s family are a little shocked over her choice, but completely pleased with Janine.

Pros:

Playful banter

Reliable, responsible and loyal

Conscious of feelings

Pretty badass, let’s face it

Cons:

Cranky and overly emotional

Jealous

Sometimes clumsy to the point of endangerment

#Ghostbusters #The Real Ghostbusters #Egon Spengler #Ray Stantz #Peter Venkman #Winston Zeddemore #Janine Melnitz #Rae Taylor #OC #Original Character #Prompt #Headcanon #Headcanons #Anon

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we-justhere · 4 years

Text

Oops pt. 2 but not like you’re thinking

Before I get into this, I just want to make it clear that I am very bad at commitment. I’m not good at doing things every day, either because I forget to or lose motivation, and almost as soon as I promised to post things I fell into a bout of ‘sadness’, no further details needed. I have requests that I will fill, you have been heard, but until then.

I did a rp with @the-elusive-libbin and she gave me permission to post it. Granted there’s demand there might be a second part, but I’m posting this now because it’s starvation and the second half would be stuffing. I don’t want to subject you to it if that’s not what you’re here for, I understand. This is @the-elusive-libbin‘s own self-insert and Jakurai Jinguji of Hypnosis Mic: Division Rap Battle. Let me know if you enjoy it.

~~~~~

Exhaustion and fatigue was something Jakurai was sort of used to. He had a high stress job that squeezed the energy out of him throughout the day, and often he would be able to be just fine until he got home and he would instantly collapse after getting at least a few mouthfuls of food into his belly. But that was all granted things went sort of well.

Everything needed his attention today, and emergency after emergency forced him to go in and out of rooms without being able to even think between moments. He lost track of time and didn't exactly desire to check, but before he knew it he was stopped and told to take his lunch.

He probably did need to eat. He definitely needed to eat, but by then he was already full of adrenaline and had patients to take care of. He brushed off his breaks and his lunches and kept working, not yet feeling any sort of hunger or exhaustion. He wasn't worried about it yet.

He actually didn't have to worry about it for a long time and his body was patient enough to keep him going until his last patient. All of a sudden his body started slowing down and it took that much more effort to keep his eyes open and stay awake. He fought with his body on it for as long as he could until he was free to go, at which point he went right to his desk and fell asleep.

It wasn't as much of a 'I'm going to take a nap', it was more of a 'I'm going to collapse in the middle of work if I don't sleep'. Either way, he was completely blacked out.

Lily started down the miraculously clean corridor towards the doctor’s office. Sterile white walls surrounded her as she walked, a maze of monotonous barriers that all seemed to connect to everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Lily knew her route and hardly even had to think about where she was going or which direction to take, she had grown accustomed to it all through work.

The doctor was her higher up, that was all too true and she worked mostly for him as his nurse and organizer, in fact it was rare that she ever worked for another doctor within the practice; but today was different. She had hardly seen the long haired man with his ever present bags under his eyes and his white coat today aside from one point mid day where she had reminded him of his break, during a fleeting moment where the two passed by one another in a corridor. It had been way too busy to breathe, let alone chat and so the nurse thought it best to save discussing future plans with the older male until after the rush. The rush passed and the doctor was still MIA.

Lily approached a large, grey door that sported a miniature, frosted glass window and a small, golden nameplate. ‘Jinguji Jakurai Sensei.’ It stated in bold, black lettering. Perhaps the nurse had thought it best to check the doctor’s office last? In theory it should have been the first place she concluded to find the target. With a sigh at her own thought process, she turned the handle and entered the room What she saw left her slightly in awe. The doctor was sat at his desk, seemingly passed out, his long hair draped across the surface as his folded arms cradled his sleeping head. This was the first time the nurse had ever seen the doctor in this state. At first she became concerned that he may actually be dead but the soft rise and fall of his back as he breathed disregarded that notion.

The sound of the door stirred the doctor, forcing a quiet groan of unwillingness out of him. He hated the idea of moving, of waking up after sleeping for what only felt like a few seconds. His body was drained,, exhausted after not even finishing a full day. It was rather disconcerting.

His arms were suddenly comforting here, but once he saw who was in his office that comfort melted away into slight embarrassment. "Excuse me." He murmured as he straightened himself out, brushing out his uniform. "Our break.. is it over so soon? I only meant to be a few minutes." He combed his hand through his hair. "I'll be right out with you. I must have lost track of time."

“It’s only me.” Lily smiled, clipboard clutched close to her chest as she listened to his words carefully. Seeing him in a sleeping state like that was so out of character, so unusual, so....adorable! She wished just for a moment that he would fall back asleep. She shook the thoughts from her mind, quite literally and made herself dizzy in the process. “Hmm, sensei....you were gone for quite a while. You uhh, how do I put this? You fell asleep for longer than you may have thought. Your shift is over...you slept through.” She touched his shoulder gently with the softest smile she could muster. “You were so exhausted, I think your body may have started working against you there.”

His rest felt so short.. had he really slept that long? He glanced at his clock and felt his heart sink when it was confirmed before his very eyes. "Damn." Of course he slept through the rest of his shift. He held his hand to his forehead, cursing the time and his own body. It was embarrassing, being that reckless on the job when there very well could have been something serious that he should have been present for. Not that he seemed to mind that sort of thing, as his own stomach was one of the very things that he neglected most when it needed his attention.

"I didn't miss anything, did I?" He continued, meeting Lily's eyes. "I wish you would have woken me up sooner."

"You didn't, all of our patients remained stable after you left. We were busy but we managed to keep a hold of it all. Everything's okay. I'd have woken you up but I had no idea you were sleeping in here." She gestured to the office. "My apologies sensei, had I known where you were I'd have come to get you sooner"

It helped to know that he, at the very least, wasn't absent for something serious. He couldn't even imagine how embarrassed he would be if they needed him and he wasn't there because he was napping in his office. He would have to make it a note to force himself to sleep better at home, not that the damage hadn't already been done. "I'm glad they're doing better. Our patients, I mean." He started to trail off a bit as a growl tore through his stomach, stealing his thoughts away. He cringed at the feeling and clutched at his stomach. "Ah.. excuse me.."

Lily stared at the doctor’s stomach for a moment and then blinked. Once. Twice. Was- was that what she thought it was? The nurse’s thoughts were confirmed when she saw a hand grip tightly at the doctor’s abdomen. “W-was that your-?” A light blush rose to her cheeks as she accidentally cut herself off .

"We had an emergency during what was supposed to be my lunch." His arm didn't leave his stomach, partly out of shame and partly because the pain was somewhat lessened with the pressure. It was embarrassment after embarrassment, and Jakurai couldn't tolerate another noise like that. "I suppose that might have been a part of the problem. I didn't exactly have enough time to.." He cleared his throat and spoke in a more hushed tone. "You understand."

The nurse could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her face felt warm even without physically touching it. It took a minute or so before she could speak again, secondhand embarrassment washing over her. She had never in her life heard the doc's stomach and now she had, while they were alone....and it was fairly loud. "Y-you haven't eaten then?" A question that was more rhetorical than not.

The pause was just as excruciating for him, if not more. He was very grateful when she started talking. "Not since.." Well, his breakfast wasn't exactly outstanding either. He usually just ate whatever was quick enough to bring along with him if he even felt breakfast was necessary, as he was normally fine until lunch. Maybe 'fine' wasn't the best word, but rather he didn't feel weak or queasy until then. "No, I guess I haven't."

"Your poor tummy!" She almost cooed, accidentally using a less scientific term for stomach in the process. Perhaps she meant to keep that part in her mind bit regardless she blurted it into the open and now she felt even more warm in the face.

"It doesn't usually give me trouble." He loosened his grip over his stomach, choosing to ignore how cheery she seemed to be about the situation~ "I suppose I don't really allow it to give me trouble. We don't exactly have time to be focusing on ourselves." He was more or less speaking for himself. Obviously. "I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine when you get sustenance sensei. Your stomach is empty and you need fuel." She reached out and tentatively placed her palm against his midsection over his clothes, her hand shaking nervously as she did.

He didn't make any sort of effort to stop her. She already heard it, he didn't feel the need to pretend it didn't happen. He did get a slight tingling sensation under her palm, but that was greatly overshadowed by the dull, nigh constant rumbles that he had been trying so hard to conceal. He was sure she could feel them, but he couldn't tell how she felt about it. "I appreciate the concern."

It was then that without thinking Lily began to rub at the abdomen in front of her, setting the clipboard she held with her other hand down on the doctor's desk. She could feel harsh vibrations from palm to fingertip as his stomach clenched and spasmed under her hand. Deep yet fairly quiet grumbling came at intervals, sounding through the layers of muscle, skin and organ. Up and down, gently adding pressure as she rubbed his concave stomach, her face turning a colour that she presumed to be nothing short of crimson. The nurse could not meet his eyes and therefore could not tell his expression. The nerves were too real.

That certainly answered his question. He initially assumed it was a mistake, that her hand had slipped or something, but that proved to be absolutely ridiculous within the very same instant. He felt his breath leave his lungs once he realized what she was doing, but the more she massaged his clenched muscle the better it started to feel. Her hands felt soft and comforting even if they were above his clothes, and it really did feel like she was suppressing painful hunger pangs and making them more bearable. If not for her hot blush, the doctor would have no insight on how she was feeling or how nervous she was.

He gently took her hands into his, temporarily pausing the massage. "I don't understand where this is coming from. You have to tell me."

"I-I just-" she stammered. He was actually HOLDING her hands. Both of them. Not just one, but both! She would have flushed more if she could. "I j-just thought if I massaged your stomach it would ease the p-pain. I meant no I'll will"

"It did ease the pain." He started to let go of her hands when he saw how quickly she fell apart. "It just seemed so sudden. You're always so nervous around me." It was such a confident move. Seemed so out of place for someone so timid, especially one that was proving his point with that powerful blush. "I really didn't mind it."

"w-well I..." she hid her face in her hands and said nothing more. What if he thought she was weird now? What if he became wary around her?

"I didn't mean to embarrass you." He stopped himself from touching her hands again. "I just needed to ask. I'm sorry if I.. spoiled it for you." Whatever 'it' happened to be. He didn't think of it as a pleasure thing and really did think she was doing it to help him feel better. It was a service, more like~ "It felt nice."

Lily peeped through the fingers on her one hand and gulped nervously. Was he actually smiling softly back at her? Her heart skipped a beat and she removed both hands from her face. "W-would you like me to continue?" She fidgeted on the spot.

The massages to help with the pain ironically kept him from going home and properly eating. The irony wasn't lost on him. This was the better option though-One where he got a free massage after a long day from someone that could hardly be around him without nearly combusting before this. "I wouldn't say no to it." He agreed, a slight purr evident in his voice. "Though I imagine it will get worse no matter how much you take care of it."

“T-then...” Lily tucked her hair behind one ear and knelt down on the floor next to the doctor. She placed her hand back onto his empty tummy and began to massage once again. “Then I’ll continue a while longer.”

His cheeks reddened as she knelt next to him. He didn't get this sort of attention a lot, really ever, and especially not from her. He didn't think she was even capable of doing this. He felt like he should talk, or say something at least, but all he could really think about was her hands. "Have you thought about doing this before?"

She flinched. “What? D-do you mean massaging your belly?” She immediately flushed and ducked her head as she realized what she had said.

"Y..yes." It was strange to go from how they usually talked to each other to how they were talking now. His hand twitched, a visible effort he made to stop himself from covering his stomach as a noisy rumble sounded off beneath his shirt. It would take some time to get used to hearing that. "..You don't have to answer that."

Lily twinged as the doctor’s stomach groaned beneath her hand and was surprised at the little noise he gave off himself “Answer your question or your stomach?”

"The question." His face flushed at her statement. "I assumed that this had to come from somewhere. That you wouldn't have done this for no reason." He looked at her hand rather than her face. "I'm looking too far into it."

“M-maybe you are.....” she trailed off, letting her words linger in the air for a while. She massaged what she thought was a knot and earned a deep roar from the belly in return. Changing the subject seemed to be a good option so lily took it. “You sound so empty.”

The roar was extra painful for him, making it impossible to stop a grunt. It was bittersweet, both the pain of such deep growls with the pleasure of the massage, and he couldn't agree more with her. "I'm sure I've gone this long without eating before. I can't remember it ever hurting this much." That didn't really mean an awful lot. "I guess I stuff it when I get home on days like this before I give it the chance to hurt."

The nurse’s eyes widened. “Stuff...” it came across as a question though it was never meant to be. Her eyes met his finally as they sparkled hopefully.

"Not intentionally." He dragged his fingers through his hair, taking her question as concern or judgment. "I just try to shut it up before it gets started. I don't mean to gorge or anything. I stop before it gets to be too much. I promise." His mood shifted when he saw that glittering in her eyes. There wasn't any sort of judging to be seen on her face. "I really do try not to eat too much. Even when I'm hungry."

“I see~” she smiled, her grin showing just how happy in the moment she actually was. “But you have been stuffed before? Full of food.” She knew talking about food could possibly upset his stomach into complaining and cramping up but in Lily’s eyes that was a bonus. Regardless of embarrassment, she was finding a way to push through and talk about things she really wanted to talk about. Things she truly desired.

"I don't think I've ever needed to." He had accidentally overeaten maybe once, but he never let himself indulge. He was tired when he got home, lunch was his main meal and dinner was what he could get down before he fell asleep. Stuffing himself.. didn't seem so bad right now. It actually sounded nice, and thinking about it made his hunger feel that much more dramatic. "Maybe I will tonight.. since I've already slept plenty."

Lily fidgeted. She remembered how Hifumi tended to cook for the doctor on occasion to save time and an idea struck, sticking to her mind like tape to paper. “I....I could cook for you sensei...I-If you’re not busy.” She rambled, her face flushing. “I mean you don’t have to, it’s not weird like a date or anything....!!!Date?!? No I didn’t mean that, well I did, it’s just that you’re hungry and I have food...I mean I can make food....I’m going to stop talking now.”

Her scrambling was sort of charming. This was the Lily that he had come to know. He had somewhat expected an offer after her line of questioning, though he had to admit he didn't know what the offer was going to be, exactly. Free food was always a pleasure regardless. "I don't know how much energy I'd have to cook when I got home anyway. If it's not too much of a bother, of course, I'd love to eat with you. Ah, please don't feel pressured to feed me. I know it seems pretty bad, but I assure you I know how to feed myself.”

Lily paused, her face turning red. She stood and looked around the doctor’s chin area, again avoiding eye contact. “T-then....w-would you like to come to my house for a homemade meal? I’ll t-try to keep the portion size as accurate as possible...”

He wasn't sure what she meant by 'accurate', but he would trust her. They were both trained to take care of people, who would know better than her? Homemade sounded good anyway, no matter what it was she planned to cook. He supposed people enjoyed cooking for him, that he wouldn't have to cook for himself with all of this pampering. "That sounds nice. I wouldn't mind the company, either."

~~~~

That’s all I have for you. It’s pretty long, sorry about that. Maybe.

#hungerfic #rp #active rp #active roleplay #roleplay #hungergrowls #hunger #self-insert #jakurai jinguji

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Scooby Doo (2002) Review: The Most Punchable Fred Jones of All Time

It’s one last hurrah for Halloween as I take a look at the often derided 2002 Scooby Doo Movie! See what happens when you combine future superstar director James Gunn with .. the guy who thought directing the Smurf’s movie and Big’s Mama’s House were good ideas. Oh and with a splash of the guy who wrote the loveable family film Cheaper by the Dozen and the utterly loathed Percy Jackson film. It’s as messy as you’d expect with that.. but is it BAD? good, so bad it’s good, just sorta okay? Come with me as I try to find out under the cut with a full review.

I’ve always loved Scooby Doo. I grew up with the guy, watching reruns of the non-scrappy classic series from Where Are You to the Scooby Doo Movies, the three Superstar 10 movies (Boo Brothers, Ghoul School and Reluctant Werewolf), or the at the time brand new What’s New Scooby Doo. And later in life i’d absolutely adore Mystery Incorporated.. minus the whole Shaggy, Scooby Velma love triangle, but i’ll likely cover that at some point or sooner, you can comission reviews from me for 5 bucks each, 5 dollars off group orders if you really want to make me suffer through that that bad. But getting off self promotion point is I loved and still love the franchise. While I”ve yet to see “Scooby Doo and Guess Who”, though given there’s Weird Al, Kristan Schaal and Urkel episodes you can be sure i’m going to eventually, and Scoob was VERY ehhh even if Dick Dastardly was awesome. But despite my history with the great dane much like with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, despite my rich history with the franchise I haven’t dove in yet and with a friend who could use a nice halloween suprise and loves scooby doo, I figured now was the time to take a look at it. And since i’d been wanting to take a look at it again anyway, and decided going big wasn’t a bad way to start, i’m taking a look at the 2002 Scooby Doo movie. I saw this flim first run in a drive in, and saw the sequel the same way and loved it as a kid, and fondly remember checking out the Sountrack Preview page back before youtube existed to make checking out soundtracks easier. It was a simplier time. And even rewatching it later with my nieces, I found myself liking it. And the thing was almost every time this film comes up it’s with a turned up nose. The CGI, the confused audience, the deciding to cast Freddy Prinze Junior.. all terrible decisions that overshadow the film, when it’s not that bad. It’s not GREAT, but it’s not TERRIBLE either. So what is it then? Well i’ll tells ya. Let’s start with

PRODUCTION: Wait James Gunn Wrote This?

At the turn of the millneium Scooby Doo was back on top. After waning popularity during the Scrappy era, the advent of the warner affilated Cartoon Network meant a whole new generation of kids (raises hand) got to experince Scooby Doo for the first time. This new audeince lead to Scooby Doo on Zombie Island, the first of the franchises 80 or so DTV movies that will continue on long after the earth dies, and brought back the franchise after it’s long slumber. Scooby Doo went from dead to as popular as he was in his hey day again. Naturally Warner wanted to cash in and thus this movie was born. Originally the film was supposed to be a more adult project, a send up of the franchise with more sex jokes and what not than made the final cut according to writer James Gunn. Yes, the same James Gunn who wrote and directed the Guardians of the Galaxy movie and whose currently saving the suicide squad. It was one of Gunn’s earlier films but just from when he’s talked about it, you can tell he genuinely cared about the project. Along for the ride with our future Guardian was his co-writer, Craig Titely, who i’m convinced only came in to do punch ups as the guy has only written three other movies. One of them was being one of MANY writers on Cheaper by the Dozen and thus likely not doing much of note with that, and the other.. is being the only writer on Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief’s movie adaptation.. aka the movie the fanbase and general audiences rejected in droves yet SOMEHOW got a sequel. Which is somehow still worse than his other film, one that asks “was the moon landing a hoax?” Spoilers, it wasn’t. Point is this isn’t a resume that screams co creator and more screams “Guy brought in to kid freindly this up”. More on that in a minute. The director is another less than reassuring face: Raja Gosnell, whose credits BEFORE this film were Home Alone 3, Never Been Kissed and Big Momma’s house.. so already he dosen’t have the best track record but somehow got worse because AFTER this film and it’s sequel he directed both live action Smurfs Movies and the universally hated Show Dogs, aka the film that thought dog rape was funny. The fact this film isn’t out and out terrible is a miracle.

Even more so because naturally, as Studios tend to do they interfered: The film was supposed to be more adult, cracking jokes about common things fans of the series growing up thought like Velma is Gay or Shaggy’s a stoner, and having both be fully true. But wanting to appeal to kids, Warner gradually lightned it, hence Craig, and Raja clearly having no shame gladly took it instead of you know.. standing his ground. So Velma has a love intrest thrown in and her kiss with Daphne is gone, while Shaggy’s toke smoking was lowered to subtext.. because either of those things is bad apparently? I dunno the 2000′s were fucked.

Point is THAT’S why these films are so tonally confused and why I don’t hold it agains the film now I know: It wasn’t James Gunn or even, as dumb as he is, Raja Gosnell’s fault that the film had some tones clashing when the studio was demanding it, instead of you know, thinking this through at all and realizing more kids cared about Scooby Doo than they would’ve josie and the pussy cats instead of bringing it up DURING production, when most of the adult stuff was in there. It’s also why the sequel has no real adult stuff, though it’s STILL damn good, but i’ll get to that some other day.

The film was also shot at an actual theme park in australia. Neat.

So yeah the film’s humor kind of ping pongs between knowing adult winks and kids stuff. We get Scooby dressing like a grandma in the same film shaggy enhales his demon possed love intrests breath like weed. The jokes themselves on average are pretty good: Some of my faviorites include the grandma scene, everything rowan atkinson does, Velma getting drunk off her ass, and the instructional video bit which is easily my favorite bit of the episode and one of my faviorite scooby doo jokes period:

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This is even FUNNIER to me on rewatch, as we now know this is an instructional video for demons.. and that Scrappy clearly had enough problems with his demon horde to have to pay for this thing. It tis glorious. However there also are also a few that HAVE NOT aged well, are very creepy at best and disgusting sexual assault at worst with Daphne getting her ass grabbed by the Luna Ghost at the start being treated as a joke and Fred oggling Daphne’s body when he’s in it being treated as a ha ha and not...

So yeah the humor’s USUALLY good, but the slipups are noticable and do bring things down a bit when they come by. So the humor is decent if mixed and the production’s a nightmare, how’s the plot? The Plot: Scoob, We’re Getting the Band Back Together!

I won’t be as through as usual because this is a 90 minute movie, I’m running behind as is and it’s 20 years old,

We start with your standard mystery inc case with the Luna Goose, aka Old Man Incel who resented Pamela Anderson for not boning him. But Fred hogging the glory during the resulting News Cast leads the gang to start fighting over lingering tensions: Velma is tired of Fred hogging all the credit when she does most of the legwork solving things, Daphne is tired of being kidnapped and being mistreated by Velma and Freddy who laugh at the idea of her doing more, and Fred..

We’ll get to him later. Shaggy is the only one wanting to stick together, but no one’s having it and the group breaks apart and Matthew LIllard REALLY sells Shaggy’s heartbreak over his friends all abandoning him well.

Two years later though, with Shaggy and Scooby naturally getting stoned and eating large quantities of food on the beach, have made peace with retirement, and have apparently had to duck tons of people coming to them to solve mysteries since they aren’t about that. The latest in that line is a man representing Emile Mondovarius, the owner of Spooky Island, a vast island resort and theme park. Naturally since it has spooky in the name the boys want nothing but Mondovarius does what honestly every previous guy coming to them should’ve done: offers them an all you can eat buffet. Since they’ve done more traumatizing for Dog Treats, they agree and it soon turns out the entire gang was invited, though none of them but Shaggy and Scooby are happy to see each other. I will say one of my complaints about the film is it never tackles the emotions behind the breakup: while the teams slowly repairs there are never any outright apologizes or scenes of them recociling or scenes of Shaggy chewing them out for abandoning him due to their spat. It just skips over the emotional bits to either wave a joke for the kiddies around or scream

Really the jokes aren’t bad, the film just has trouble with actual emotion or depth that could’ve been there and tries for it once in a while, but dosen’t really do anything with it. The gang splitting up’s a good concept, and at this point on Scooby Doo on Zombie Island had really used it, and that was one where they were clearly still close friends and were still in touch they just quit mystery solving for a while till Zombie Island happened. Mystery Incorpreated would finally give this story justice later: Instead of over a petty ego squabble, the gang broke up over underlying tensions: The revelations about Fred’s dad caused him to go try and find himself, Velma alienated herself by hiding things from them, and Shaggy was shipped off to Military School and Scooby doggy prison camp... thankfully the last two didn’t last and Scooby rescued Shaggy with a tank but the tension DIDN’T go away: While the gang mostly reunited, Velma took time to forgive them and also tried bringing in the friend/girlfriend she’d made in the meantime only for her friends to isolate her and throw her out while Daphne took her time to return due to being hurt by fred. It’s complex and good stuff versus here where it’s just “WE’RE APART BECAUSE WE HATES EACH OTHER. And now we’re NOT”. It’s just a waste of a good concept and i’ m glad the franchise got around to doing it right.

But my gripes aside our heroes head to the resort and meet Mondevarious, who admits outright to having tricked then and with confronted with the gang being broken up, makes it clear he knews. “That’s the thing about broken things.. you can put them back together.”

And so he did. He needs the Gang’s help as he’s worried about the island and something going wrong there: The teens are leaving polite, well behaved. and clearly not themselves as one reacts to an old friend by neck lifting him and tossing him aside. Something’s deeply wrong here and the gang’s intrest is piqued enough to stay though everyone but Shaggy is determined to solve it themselves out of ego. Mondvarius is played by Rowan Atkinson and while I watched the bean movie as a kid this is where I fell in love with the guy, with later watches of Blackadder confirming that in my college years. Rowan just brings a fun dorky energy to the character and a nice earnestness too but when he later takes a turn for the bad, he does that well too. Atkinson is HIGHLY underated in my opinon and easily the MVP of this film’s supporting cast. So the investigation begins, and we get our supsects: The first we met on the plane, Mary Jane, a kind blonde played by Isla Fisher who got the job becasue Gosnel, in a rare good decision, saw how talented she was and while still picking Sara Michele Gellar for Daphne, made sure she had a part. She’s a nice sweet girl who Shaggy falls for and Scooby’s annoyed by it.. though unlike earlier the film beats mystery inc easily here as it’s a more understandable conflict and dosen’t act like Dog Issues is a thing people says. Again i’ll get to that clusterfuck of an arc some day. The other two are N’Goo Tuna, a shady worker at the park who spouts off the legends of the island. In a nice twist, he’s NOT the vilian, as is obvious but is his right hand man. He also has his own right hand and muscle in Zarkos a cool looking Luchador and N’Goo’s muscle. Also N’Goo may be one of the worst names in Scooby Doo History, and that includes Dabba Doo. But the legend claims the island was once owned by demons who want revenge since the resort took the island from him.

The other is probably my faviorite non Rowan Atkinson character, Voodoo Maestro, played by Miguel Nunez. He’s basically just a guy who lives on the fringes of the island and also hates the resort and tries using voodoo curses. He’s honestly a delight from his attempt to sacrifice a chicken (An already dead one at that), to his general hammy and annoyed at dealing with these teenagers demeanor. NAturally he has nothing to do with this but he’s still a fun addition and I wish he was in more scnenes than the two he gets. But with what they’ve gathered the gang all end up at a spooky castle attraction, with Scooby and Shaggy of course being bribed by daphne while Velma and Fred show up indpeendntly and end up finding the weird training video from earlier but all get caught when the traps are activiated> There’s also a farting contest which.. eh not funny to me but i’ve seen so much worse i’m not even remotely upset. But then the traps trigger though during the chaos Fred and Velma are forced to work together and finally start doing so, and Daphne finds a clue: A mysterious pyramid known as the damon righus and finally gets some, if not nearly enough, credit. So the gang is back together.. even if it’s a tenative peace, the high from solving this and relay to their boss the suspects, including him, though Fred assures Mondovarius it’s just because he’s spooky and rowan’s character’s delight over that is fucking glorious. So the gang enjoys some down time at the local bar, with Fred and Daphne doing their own look ins, Scooby and Shaggy eating and encountring mary again and Velma getting hit on by a dude while looking over the ritus, revealing it’s some sort of soul sucking aparatus, and going into their history... which is really just an excuse to bring Scrappy in who in this universe, is a horny egotistical little shit whose abandoned as a result. ANd before anyone boos he’s not a puppy here, he’s got.. dog dwarfisim.. which while .. how does that even work... means he’s a grown ass man and deserved this. We also get drunk velma and Linda Caredenlli is a delight

The night gets interupted by terrible cgi monsters, the aformentioned emon who soul suck most of the college kids present and also get fred and velma who both find out these are very much real. We also get the best song on the soundtrack, man with a hex. It slaps. But it makes good chase music as with Mondvarious, Fred and Velma captured, the rest of the gang and mary escape. The next morning we get a surreal as hell scene as everyone’s partying, Fred’s talking in slang and Velma with clevage, thank you, is chatting up.. Sugar Ray? For those younger of you they were a band at the time. They were a big thing. Not half bad but faded away. They looked as 2000′s as hell though. WHy Smash Mouth gets all the memes and not them is beyond me. Look at lead singer Mark McGrath!It’s like the early 2000′s gained sentience and took a human form. But the gang is quickly forced to run from sugar ray, though they get Daphne in a deleted scene. Why it was deleted I dunno. Point is Shaggy, Scooby and Mary are all alone.. oh and Mary’s possessed. Shaggy and Scooby argue over it because Shaggy just thinks Scooby is jealous and while he is .. why would he lie about this? He’s as cowardly as you are. But Scooby falls through the floor, and Shaggy is now going solo but luckily finds his friends souls, and eveyrone elses in a massive cool looking vat and frees them all. Velma, when the demon leaves her and confronts her, finds out sunlight kills the demons and saves Daphne from hers... only to find Fred in her body. Daphne is naturally horrified and we do get a great bodyswapping scene.

Our heroes reconvince on the beach where htey find the Maestro who explains what’s going on to a point, with the gang’s clues filling in the blanks: The ritus, which they stole back earlier, is used for a ritual that will allow the Demons to rule over the earth for “a thousand years of darkness” but it requires a pure soul to work. Cue our big bad talking Scooby into being their willing sacrifice since Scooby dooes not understand what a sacrifice is. Shaggy naturally rallies the group to go save him after their understandably worried since they usually dealt with weirdos in costumes and not the apocalypse.. well okay Velma and Fred aren’t, Daphne dealt with this kind of thing once a week back in Sunnydale. So they set up a plan to destroy all the demons at once by unleashing the soul bath, setting them all loose and then using a spooky disco ball from one of the attractions rigged up over the ritual area to shine the light in. It’s classic scooby doo.

Things naturally go wrong as while Shaggy goes to rescue scooby and makes up with him, he’s caught, so are fred and velma and they have to scramble, while Daphne looses a fight with the luchador up top while trying to let the light in to finish the trap. Meanwhile Shaggy saves Scooby’s soul just as Mondovarious sucks it out by shoving the guy.. revealing him to be a robot! DUN DUN DUN. And inside is Scrappy.. which you all probably knew already but try to act suprise who wanted to conquer the world as revenge for the gang abandoning him and because again, in this universe he’s kind of an asshole. He absorbs the souls gathered so far and merges with the damon ritus, because we’re operating on video game rules now apparently, so final boss time. But we get a great climax as Scrappy chases scooby, Daphne goes buffy on Zarkos ass , and as a result he shatters the glass and lets the light in releasing the disco ball the kill the demons.. man I love that I get to type things like that. Scooby removes the ritus and defeats his nephew and the day is saved. Velma hooks up with random guy, Daphne and Fred get together, I die inside a little and Shaggy and Mary Jane bond. At the press Fred does his good deed for the movie by letting Velma explain things and get the spotlight and the group have firmly reunited. THE END. Overall it’s a solid plot, that works well, comes together in the end and was well put together, it’s more the filling that causes it to tilt back and forth a bit, but overlal outside of the issue I mentioned it’s a good scooby doo plot. While some have pointed out it is similar to zombie island, a case reuniting the gang, the person who brought them there wanting to sacrifice them, or just scooby here, monsters being real, it works because everything else is so different. But since there’s more to break down and it’s easier to give it it’s own section let’s look at...

THE CHARACTERS: NOT HALF BAD, FRED CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF.

So we’re down to character.. and since there’s a blonde, preeening, selfish, arrogant, sleazy, sexist, obnoxious, loud mouthed, useless elephant in the room, let’s start with Fred. And to quote it’s always sunny....

Yeah so that fury of a thousand crashing waves (Cracks Knuckles): Fred is the worst part of this movie, the worst version of the character across the entire franchise that i’ve seen with the sincre doubt that there is ANY version worse than this. Everything I said above is true and THEN some. He is one of the most unlikable characters i’ve seen in a film that wasn’t INTENDED to be. There’s just NOTHING to like about him. Nothing. He treats his “Friends” like garbage, all four of them: He basically ignores shaggy and scooby at best and treats them as if they were nothing. For Velma he’s your classic power abusing douche who pushes her to the side and often steals the credit for things she did. He’s still a good mystery solver, but he acts like he does all the work to the press and takes all the credit when Velma works as hard as he does if not harder. And worst of all is Daphne, who he basically either treats like some moron who gets kidnapped due to incompetence and not because creepy old dudes want to feel her up, which given the intro is VERY likely the reason she’s the resident victim of the group, and not like a person, or like a pair of boobs and legs he wants to bang or feel up creepily while he’s in her body. For fuck’s sake his reaction to finding out he’s in her body is a creepy and smug “I can see myself naaaakeddd” If that dosen’t make you want to smack him get off my blog. And they get together in the end!

Who who wanted that. I genuinely want the presumibly original ending where Daphne and Velma hook up and Fred falls off a pier and is never seen again. The acting does not help. While the other four gang members are expertly cast Fred was given to Freddy Prinze Junior, who made a career out of playing arrogant dicks who are somehow the main character so I can’t fault the casting but I can fault that he can’t delver any line without that smug air of trying to be cool douche and it’s at it’s worst with Fred since Fred’s already written as the biggest creepiest douche in the world and Freddy somehow makes it WORSE. He also has zero chemstiry with Daphne, which would be weird given he and Sarah Michelle Gellar had dated for 2 years at this point and as of this writing have been together for 20 overall and have two wonderful kids together... but given how badly written Fred is here, I can’t blame either of them. And i’m sure FPJ is a swell guy, loves his kids loves his wife seems like a really plesant guy, nothing against him as a person, but at least at this point in his career he wasn’t very good. And I am actually planning on trying to seek out one of his later works in his career to see if he’s gotten better in recent years, and willing to give him the benifit of a doubt that he probably has. I just don’t like him here, and while the script does most of the work he only makes it worse.And works before this (Pup Named Scooby Doo) and after this (Mystery Incorperated) would prove you can give fred a personality that’s not dick tip, so fuck this character, fuck the writing.. and I hope Freddy is having a happy halloween with his loving wife and children, seriously I meant it I have nothing against him as a person. A terrible actor can still be a WONDERFUL guy.

Now that’s thankfully put to bed, let’s pivot over to Shaggy, whose easily the best of the cast. Matthew Lillard looks the part pefectly, has the right combination of heart and goofus and has some great comedic timing. Granted Scream had already proven the guy’s got genuine talent, but still he’s great here and is currently playing Shaggy in most films and productions, except Scoob which.. was far from it’s only mistake but easily the biggest. There’s not much else to say: the guy IS Shaggy and is the only person whose taken up the roll to equal Kasey Casem in it. As for how he’s written.. he’s basically the same and apart from one line of him wanting to leave everyone to their deaths, which feels like it was added later, he’s written really well and is easily the most likeable of the group.

Scooby is alright. Not the best version but funny and charming enough when he needs to be and while I hated the CGI at one point.. it’s honestly not that bad. It’s not GREAT, but time has actually been very good to it both in how it’s held up and in the fact we’ve gotten SO MUCH WORSE with so much better techlogies. I mean.. Cats exists.. Marmaduke Exists.. the Bill Murray Garfield exists. This was offputting at the time but now it’s just okay. But character wise he’s good and again not much diffrent.

Velma is the second best casting of the movie. Played by Linda Cardenelli, who i’ve harbored a crush on for a good few decades now and admire mostly for her talent and charm, Linda kills the roll and easily slips into it as easily as Matt did, and while not picking it up full time like he did, still did it a few times afterword and played hot dog water in mystery incorperated, so she did finally get to play a Lesbian Velma it just took a while. And while Velma being gay is kind of sterotyping, it would’ve been nice to have been kept in instead of edited out for bullshit reasons. But overal her character is decent: While she ALSO bullies and belittles daphne like fred, unlike fred it comes less from just being a douche and more from insecurity. As her scene at the bar makes clear she feels undervalued like the other, like the nerd who the cool kids LET hang out with them instead of part of the team. While it dosen’t make her treatment of Daphne OKAY, it makes Velma understandable. We also get Velma Clevage which.. okay not sure if the world needed that but whatever. Point is it’s throughly likeable portryal that I wish got some character growth. Finally out of the main 5 there’s Daphne, whose alright. Not as good as the other two, as it feels they lean a bit too heavily on her having taken self defense and wanting ot be tougher, but Sarah Michelle Gellar gives her a ton of charm and likeablity that her husband’s character sadly lacks. There’s just a fun, adorable energy to daph that ends up coupling with her buffy style badassery at the end and Sarah plays both beautifully. The script didn’t give her a ton to work with, though that’s the same for all four of htem, but Sarah really made the character work and made her somewhat memorable despite not being as good as Linda or Matthew. Basically not the best, but still a comfortable third ahead of scooby doo and jackass jones.

As for the rest of the cast, Rowan Attkinson i’ve covered and is utterly fantastic as is the Voodoo Maestro, and both should get hteir own hbo max spinoff together. The minons.. stupid name and luchadoor are decent enough, nothign special but they have presence and do the job of goon well. And Mary Jane is alright.. the joke is WAY too on the nose to be funny and she’s mostly just there to be sweet, but she’s harmless. Not good but not bad. So finally we have our big bad, Scrappy. And i’m.. mixed about this. On one hand, Scott Innes, who it turns out is also from Missouri good on you dude!, does a terrific job and I couldn’t tell it wasn’t don messick as Scrappy and he plays him as evil great. On the other.. it’s just kinda goofy. Out of all the tips of hte hat to scooby stuff this feels the most over the top. Scrappy was hated, including by james gunn.. so he’s the bad guy. It’s just a bit on the nose, and the twist is pretty easily teligraphed since Scrappy suspciously is mentioned in one scene so him showing up at all is pretty easy to see coming. It’s not terible but it’s not great. His demon minons also just suck.. the designs are wonky and their cgi, unlike scooby and scrappy’s, is just REALLY bad and dated, and even as a kid I never liked them.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Scooby Doo is a decent but messy movie. The clashing tones, dated humor and godawful version of fred drag it down at times, and it’s very clear this had a lot of hands in the pot. But.. I still enjoy it. It’s not the best scooby ever, tha’ts mystery incorpeated, but it has great atmosphere, some good ideas, an utterly spectacular with one exception cast, and some really funny jokes. I genuinely feel the film is overhated when it’s a unique, weird and wonderful slice of Scooby. For better or worse there’s no other Scooby doo property quite like it, and that’s what makes it so fun. And it has enough good performances and jokes to smooth out the edges. It’s not the best, it’s a mess.. but sometimes a mess is fun and I like this flim for being a fun mess I can enjoy with my nieces and talk about to all of you. And sometimes that’s all you need. Thank you for reading this. If you like this you can comission your own review: 5 bucks for a tv episode, 15 for a movie, 10 for an hour long special, and 5 dollars off when you order more than one episode of a show at a time. Just send me a direct message or ask on here and we’ll get started. Until then you can check out my backlog of reviews, check this space every monday for ducktales reviews, and VOTE DAMMIT VOTE. Until we meet again it’s been a pleasure. Play us out Atomic Fireballs, it’s been a wonderful halloween.

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#scooby doo #james gunn #shaggy rogers #fred jones #velma dinkely #daphne blake #rowan atkinson #sarah michelle gellar #freddy prinze jr #linda cardellini #matthew lillard

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ladyvader23 · 4 years

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Darth Vader’s Helmet

For El Droide. I do take requests!

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Everyone stared at him.

It wasn’t unusual to have eyes on him at all times. Ever since he’d left Tatooine at age nine, someone had always been watching him. The Jedi, the public, the Senate, Darth Sidious; and now his crew. But he’d had this crew long enough that they shouldn’t have been so open with their stares as he stormed through the corridors of the Devastator.

With each step, paranoia grew. Just yesterday, people had been pretending not to see him as he passed. Today they gawked at him as though he’d painted his cloak neon pink. So, what was different about today?

Unable to stand it any longer, he stretched out in the Force, probing the emotions of the men around him. Usually he ignored them, considering them well beneath his consideration, but if they wanted to stare, then he was more than willing to turn his own attention on them. Let them face the consequences.

As expected, there was the usual fear, but it was overshadowed by a mix of horror and--amusement?

He stopped in his tracks, his breathing echoing in the hall. Those around him began attempting to scurry off casually, pretending that they hadn’t been staring. But it was too late. Vader reached out, grabbing an officer he didn’t know or care to know by the neck, dragging him back to stand in front of him. “Why is everyone staring at me, corporal?” he demanded, loosening his hold just enough for the man to answer him.

The man’s eyes widened to a point Vader didn’t even think possible, and he gaped, his mouth moving but no sounds coming out as he looked straight into Vader’s mask. Vader shook him roughly. “Speak. NOW.”

“Y-y-your….hel--helmet, My Lord…” He squeaked.

Vader frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“What. About. My helmet. Corporal?” He hissed, moving in closer to the man’s face.

The officer had gone deathly pale. “It’s...different….”

That didn’t help. How could his helmet be different? He’d been in the bacta tank...he hadn’t bothered to check his suit when he’d pulled it back on. The helmet was always the last thing to put on, secured using a claw that lowered it snugly back into place. He hadn’t made modifications to the helmet, nor had it been damaged in battle, and Luke and Leia…

The thought stopped cold.

Luke. Leia.

More specifically, Leia.

Without another word, he crushed the man’s windpipe and dropped him, striding as quickly as he could towards the nearest port window.

No, no, no, no…

With each step, the dread grew until he was standing in front of the window, looking in horror at his reflection.

Even with the red tint of his lens, he could see that the paint on his helmet was of all different colors. There were flowers and images of what he supposed were supposed to be Tooka, rain drops, and...was that...a rainbow?

His stomach clenched, horror sweeping over him. How many people had he passed wearing this? He hadn’t even paid attention, so it wasn’t like he could accurately hunt them all down and kill them before rumors were spread--worse, he was still out on deck…

He pivoted, moving as quickly as he could without outright running back towards his quarters and the safety of his pod.

The corridors were mercifully empty. Likely, whoever had seen him stop and kill the corporal figured their lives would be forfeit if he caught them looking at him in this humiliating state. It gave him time to com Miss Laena.

“How may I help you, Lord Vader?” Her voice answered on the second ring.

“Bring my children to my quarters. I would speak with them.” His mind replayed all of the art Leia had brought to him over the last few weeks. I made this for you, daddy. The inside of his meditation pod was plastered with her art. Not because he enjoyed art, but because he’d read that supporting children in their activities helped them grow intellectually. While his children would definitely not grow up to be artists (for more reasons than one), he had no opposition to anything that would give them a better chance to grow up as healthy and intelligent as possible.

Now he was seriously reconsidering the art issue.

“It will be done, My Lord.” He hung up just as he reached his quarters, the pod opening for him automatically. He winced and groaned at all of the taped drawings that shifted as it did so.

He sat in his chair, turning around so that the twin’s nanny wouldn’t see his humiliating state as she dropped them off, and waited. Sure enough, not five minutes passed when he listened to the doors open, Miss Laena whispering to the twins to go meet with him, before she left. The moment she did, he turned back around to face his children.

Luke and Leia were in the middle of putting on the special breathing masks he’d made for them so that they could breathe easier in the pod while he spoke to them face-to-face. They paused when they saw him wearing the helmet. His eyes narrowed as Leia let out a giggle.

As if he didn’t need more proof.

He forced his voice to remain calm. He didn’t want to have to chase them down through the Star Destroyer wearing this infernal helmet. They would definitely bolt if they thought they were in trouble. “Luke. Leia. Come in.”

Only Luke seemed wary at the invitation, though he followed his sister into the pod. The doors snapped shut, and Vader reached up and removed his helmet, turning it over in his hands. His children, by this point, were used to seeing his scarred face. They had never reacted in fear. He was their father, and they knew he would give them the entire galaxy if it made them happy. That’s all they cared about.

“Would you care to explain how my helmet got this way?” Again, his voice, so different than when he was in the suit, was calm. Too calm. Luke shifted uneasily from foot to foot, glancing at Leia, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care that a storm was brewing.

“Art, daddy.” Leia told him proudly.

He clenched his jaw, pushing back the irritation. Openly fighting with Leia was like arguing with a less reasonable version of himself. It did nothing but make things worse. “How did you even get it off the claw?” He shook his head. The answer was obvious: the Force. “No, nevermind, how did you get it back….?”

Then his eyes landed on Luke. The child who had a fascination with machines of any sort. Who, whenever he was brought aboard the Devastator, took too much interest in “daddy’s machines.”

Oh yes. Leia wasn’t completely implicated in this.

“Don’t you like it, daddy?” Leia frowned. Too innocent. She was five. She knew better, and yet…

“That’s not the point.” Now his voice was beginning to rise, a fresh wave of shame and humiliation washing over him at the consequences of so many officers seeing him with a painted rainbow on his helmet. “I need this to command my men. They need to respect me. They can’t do that when I’m walking around with your latest creation on my face.”

Leia crossed her arms, pouting. “Then make them.”

He released a breath. It was the perfect answer any Sith father would want to hear. He couldn’t tell if she knew that or if she legitimately thought he could just make people respect him with childish paintings on his helmet. “That’s not how that works.”

“Why not?”

“It just doesn’t.”

“Well it should.”

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t.” His frustration was mounting. He turned his attention on Luke, who flinched. “Did you also paint something on here?”

Luke kicked his foot absently on the floor. A clear sign he was guilty. “No.” When Vader stared at him in disbelief, in a quiet voice he amended his answer. “I drew the kitty.”

Of course he did.

Vader held the helmet out to his children. “You are going to go find Miss Leana and clean this helmet.”

Leia’s lip began to tremble. “You don’t like it?”

“Do not cry. I have hung plenty of your pictures on the wall. I don’t need to wear it too…”

But tears were starting to fall. It was almost as bad as the time she’d brought him a picture that looked like a blob of squiggles and Vader had guessed wrong what it was. She’d taken that offensively too.

“Leia, I told you, I can’t wear this…”

The tears fell harder.

“Leia.”

She was outright sobbing. “You h-hate my pictures!”

How was this even happening? She was literally in his pod, a pod that was supposed to help him rejuvenate in the dark side of the Force, surrounded by her drawings. How did she even come to this completely illogical conclusion?

But, children were not logical. Especially five year olds.

He huffed. “Fine. I will keep it. But I still cannot wear it.”

“No, you hate it!” Leia bawled.

“I don’t.” He did, and he could see Luke’s skeptical expression, but the boy didn’t rat him out. His son was always more sensitive to other’s emotions. “I will place it in a place of prominence at home on Coruscant.”

“What’s prom...prom…”

“I will put it in my quarters at home in Coruscant.” He amended. He carefully placed the helmet on the armrest of his chair then scooped them up in his arms, holding them close. He sent soothing feelings specifically towards his daughter, and thankfulness towards his son for not ratting his true feelings out. “I just can’t wear it here. Maybe…” he hated himself for saying it, but he did it anyway, “Maybe I’ll wear it at home.”

Oh, he seriously hoped she forgot about that. But it did the trick. She brightened up. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ll consider it. No promises. Now can you please stop crying?” Force, he hated it when they cried. Even if he suspected she was doing it because she knew that about him and wanted to get out of trouble. One day it wouldn’t work.

But today was not that day.

As she reached up to dry her eyes, Vader turned to Luke. “Can you get me my spare helmet?” Given how often he came back from battle with a broken helmet, he had plenty to spare.

In his arms, Luke squirmed. “Um. Maybe, maybe you could...not wear a helmet?”

“That’s not possible.”

“Well. Maybe this once….”

His lips thinned. “Luke. Leia. Just how many of my helmets did you decorate?”

The twins were silent, looking anywhere but at him. He had his answer, and he made a note to reinforce some rules with Miss Leana about watching his children when he couldn’t. But, in the meantime, there was no way he was leaving his chambers. Not with a helmet like that.

“Can we stay with you daddy?” Luke asked.

He sighed. “I apparently have to work from my chamber, so yes.” Both of them brightened, but given the extent of what they’d done, he couldn’t quite let them off easy. “Oh, Luke? Leia?”

“Yes, daddy?” Leia asked, batting her long lashes at him.

It was almost enough to make him reconsider. Almost.

“You’re grounded.”

#dad vader series #dad vader #is best vader #luke and leia #vader and twins #fanfiction #fic #written by me #for a request #he just can't win

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